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imthepunchlord · 1 month ago

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How would you rewrite Chloe’s arc in Season 2?

So, personally, I would've just gone ahead and redeemed her. There are various reasons to do so.

She's strongly color coded for Bee, suggesting she would get it. It would be weird if she didn't (shame they didn't do the same to Nino, especially learning that Peafowl wasn't even lost originally, it was added to Volpina last minute).

There were promos and building up confirming she was going to be a hero, and implications that she was going to be part of a team and working with the heroes.

And with the introduction of Lila, and the implication that she was going to be a new antagonist, you didn't need two mean girls to be against Marinette. Much less sorta 3 with Kagami who dabbles in the mean girl trope. Only exception is to have multiple mean girls is to have them face off against other characters than just Marinette, but they're set on that so there should be some sort of change.

Chloe getting a redemption and being a hero is a natural go to.

So Chloe's redemption, I believe, should start off with a loss of power. Something that will humble her for she cannot continue as she is.

And as I've talked about using Lila to push the agenda of Chloe's redemption before, let's talk about another option: using Audrey herself.

Audrey easily could've been another means of pushing the Chloe redemption agenda. She could've been a solid foil to Chloe, by being mean and ruthless, but she's actually hard working, dedicated, and lives with integrity for her career. Things Chloe is not.

And excited to have her mom here, as this is love not freely given, making Chloe want it, it's dashed when Audrey is unimpressed and unhappy with Chloe and how she is.

For not only does Chloe not do her own work and lives live in leisure laziness, living off her parents hard earned money (at least in Audrey's case), but having the audacity to steal another inspiring designer's design and hire an designer to copy it at a competition that Gabriel Agreste hosted (Audrey's never been so embarrassed), Audrey is here to give her entitled daughter a reality check.

She cuts Chloe off on all of her enjoyments.

Sabrina is banned from the hotel. The butler is expected to go over Chloe's work to make sure it is hers and not Sabrina's.

Chloe is expected to get a part time job. She wants to spend money, she needs to spend her own. She'll get the rest of her saved funds at 18.

And, Chloe is to get involved in the fashion industry. If she's going to tarnish it with her laziness and arrogance, she's going to work to make up for it. Specifically, she is going to approach the girl she stole from and make up for her actions.

And at first, it's all terrible for Chloe.

Homework is hard. It's bad enough that Chloe has to stay after school to get a mentorship by the teachers (as no student wants to mentor her, except for Sabrina, who isn't allowed near her, and Adrien but he's busy). At first, Chloe did discover that she could trick Bustier into doing her own homework for her, but Audrey caught on quick and mean Mendeleiev took over.

The part time job was impossible. Chloe kept getting fired. But it wasn't her fault!

Most customers were beneath her service!

They couldn't expect her to touch out of season clothes!

She had to leave work early because she got dirt under her nails. A clear emergency.

There was no way she was going to wear a hairnet, that was going to ruin her hair.

Chloe was just starting to think her mother would let it go when Audrey put her foot down and had Chloe work for her own company, and Chloe was not allowed to quit or be fired, and was to do the work or else she wouldn't be allowed in her own suite. She would have to sleep on the second floor suites.

The threat was scary enough for Chloe to suck it up.

And the worse one... Chloe needed to go and make it up to Marinette. Chloe dragged her feet on this so much that Audrey dragged Chloe there, apologized to Marinette first, then pressured Chloe to apologize. She told Marinette that Chloe here was to work for her and make up for her dishonesty. When Marinette tried to back out and say it's fine, Audrey insisted.

And so Chloe become Marinette's assistant. She would model for her. She would go fetch materials Marinette needed or help carry things when Marinette went out shopping.

It was weird for both girls and neither of them liked it.

But under Audrey's critical eye, Chloe kept up with all these awful changes to her life, but at some point, there was a shift.

Chloe was able to solve a problem without Mendeleiev's guidance. She did it on her own. She... actually felt proud of that. She wondered what else she could solve without the teacher... Oh! And she'll have to show this off to Adrien and Sabrina tomorrow!

At her part time job, Chloe got her first paycheck. And that felt really good. Money she earned herself. This was hers. Not her father's. Not her mother's. This was Chloe's own money. She was so happy that she, weirdly, didn't feel like spending it. She wanted to hold onto it.

And, extra weirdly, she and Marinette are... talking. They're discussing the big name fashion designers and their thoughts on them. They share their criticisms, or the ideas of what they would like to see. Chloe is even sharing her own thoughts on what Marinette creates and Marinette listens and considers it. And Marinette has actually crafted attire and accessories with Chloe in mind, something that is just gifted away, no strings attached, given from someone that doesn't love her unconditionally like her father does. It kinda... felt like it mattered more. Daddy gifts her items so freely that many of those items she just throws away, but anything Marinette gives doesn't feel like that.

Gosh, who knew Marinette had actual tastes? And she didn't quite mind being around her.

Chloe had to wonder what was the world coming to?

Chloe though did still keep her mean streak. Anyone that irritated her or when she bored, she would pick on. Though when Marinette said soemthing, she backed off a lot more than before. She reasoned it's because technically her 2nd boss. But it did make her annoyed. And Cesaire's smug face added to it.

But one day, Lila starts to mess with Marinette and without thinking, Chloe intervened, roasting Lila while she had the chance. It ended poorly as Lila became an akuma and came after her, but Ladybug offered Chloe a lot of praise, much to her glee. And then, Ladybug presented Chloe with a little box.

A box that evidently held the Bee Miraculous.

"Honestly, you're more wasp than a bee," Ladybug said, the box still in hand.

"Excuse me!?" Chloe gasped in full offense.

Ladybug continued, "But I think you're on the way of becoming one. And maybe Pollen will help you get there."

The box was set in her hand, opening on it's own, and in a flash of light and a warming greeting from a little bee thing, dawned the day Queen Bee arose to work with the heroes, bringing her own mean sting to the team.

#ask Punchie #long post #chloe bourgeois #chloe redemption prompts

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trashyangelic · 4 months ago

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New Fic Idea! Lila Rossi Exposed!

What if there was a job for Class Representative in Francois Dupont for either Marinette or Aurore to use for proof since Damocles is too lazy to do it himself yet proclaimed that the CCTV isn't working which is not true.

As the two girls had enough with Bustier's enabler, Damocles' negligence, and Lila's lying. They found a footage of Lila Rossi grabbing an akuma but also with the exact words of that says, "Come here akuma," before grabbing the butterfly and shoving it into her earring, "yes, hawkmoth. I know you want to destroy ladybug and so do I."

Aurore thought of sending this to the authorities, School Board, Nadja Chamack, and a copy for Lila Rossi's mother for her crimes while Marinette send this footage to her classmates for them to realize that they sided Lila over Marinette for no reason minus Chloe since she skipped while dragging Adrien with her.

But Adrien and Chloe also recieved the message from Marinette on Lila Rossi Leaked Footage even though they skipped School while Adrien lied to Nathalie where he is going since he is still tired after the akuma battle last night he isn't in the mood to go to school, it made Chloe and Adrien frozed while Chloe grumbled after betting Marinet 50 euros about seeing if the CCTV is working and find a way to exposed Lila while Adrien looked at Chloe in surprised.

So they did anyway. Its not going good for the Akuma Class and Bustier after they watched the footage from Marinette but now they are angry towards Lila even though she isn't even in the class but lied to them that she went to see Prince Ali.

#no lila rossi demption #marinette deserves better #lila salt #bustier salt #damocles salt #prompt?#akuma class salt #chloe redemption #adrien sugar #bad teacher caline bustier #no pairing

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driftward · 2 months ago

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Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - Free Day 3 - 22. Caretaker Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Explicit Summary: Zoissette has many needs right now, and Y'shtola will take care of all of them. Notes: WoL|Sette timeline. CW: Frank sexual discussion, sexual activity

Zoissette was tired, but the good kind of tired. The tired of muscles that had been worked. The tired that came from accomplishment, from success. The tired that came from stretching one's limits. The tired that came from heat pumping through the heart.

The tired that came from physical therapy.

She was well on the way to recovery. Not quite yet ready to fully leave her rooms, not quite fully ready to tend to herself fully. She could, of course, she could. She wanted to, even. But she needed to rest, frequently, and she needed to sleep quite a lot, and the Scions were eager to see after her.

After she had scared them so badly coming back barely alive from beyond the edge of everything, she felt it best to indulge them.

Besides, though she did not want to admit it, it was kind of nice being taken care of.

Y'shtola helped her back towards her bed, ready to support Zoissette should she need it, and she almost might have. A small warm smile played on her face, eyes lazy, feeling languid after the day's work. Her mind played from thought to thought, free like clouds drifting through the sky. Y'shtola carefully got her into her bed, and made sure she was settled in, water and books within reach.

"Is there ought else you might desire from me, before I take my leave?"

"Hmn. Not right now," said Zoissette lazily, already feeling foggy sleepiness starting to drift in to her thoughts. She looked Y'shtola up and down, admiring her form, settling almost a touch too long on her breasts, but finding her way up to her eyes.

Y'shtola just smiled back and raised an eyebrow.

Zoissette laid down, and rolled over. "Maybe you could wear a maid outfit for me," she said, dreamily, already well on her way to sleep.

Y'shtola's ears went back.

"Not one of the traditional ones of course, all dowdy and duty," continued an oblivious Zoissette, "but one of those fancy ones that they call the Isghardian style, which is of course ridiculous, our maids look the same as anyone else's and don't have such interesting bustiers..."

"I beg your pardon," said Y'shtola, sharply.

Zoissette was suddenly very awake. She blinked and turned to see an annoyed Y'shtola.

"Oh! Oh. Uhm. Ahm. Sorry! Sorry. I forgot myself."

Y'shtola closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in.

"No. Nevermind. Forget I said anything," said Zoissette hurriedly, turning over and burying her head under her blankets. "I - I was just - after everything - very tired. Sorry. Please. Thank you for everything. I - I am going to sleep now."

Zoissette curled up under the blankets, and made a pained noise.

Y'shtola grimaced, reaching a hand out, wanting to help, wanting to do something to ease her friend.

But she held back, and considered.

"I shall see you on the morrow, then," she said gently. "Good night, Sette."

"...good night, Shtola."

Satisfied for the time being, Y'shtola headed out the door, and slipped quietly into the evening.

It was good, then, that Zoissette went to sleep early and woke up late these days. It gave Y'shtola a little bit of time to work. Not much, but enough. Tataru was willing to help, and able to keep a secret. F'lhaminn's twinkling eyes above her smile showed she knew more than she had been told, but was also an able accomplice. And so it was, that the next day, that F'lhaminn made sure the general word had been put out that this was a day Zoissette was absolutely under no circumstances to be bothered, that she needed a true rest day to herself, and would survive a day without being mothered and smothered by well meaning friends.

F'lhaminn herself saw to Zoissette's breakfast, as was expected, and Zoissette was yet none the wiser. Y'shtola had to see to some last minute things, last minute adjustments, but she managed to make it to Zoissette's door just before morning passed into noon. Putting her hand on the latch, she leaned in to listen, and then knocked.

"Come in, please."

Y'shtola teased the door open a bit, looking in to see Zoissette in bed, a book in her hand, looking towards the door. She opened the door the rest of the way, and let herself in, being sure to latch the door behind her.

She felt a thrill of delight at the way Zoissette's eyes went wide, the way she slowly looked Y'shtola up and down, taking her all in. The way the tips of her ears began to turn red, and her cheeks began to blush. Zoissette grabbed the edge of her sheet, and pulled it up to her chin, as though she suddenly had to cover herself.

Y'shtola was dressed, head to toe, in a lascivious maid outfit. The bustier pressing up at her breasts, covering them and yet also putting them well on display, the white fabric that covered them standing out against the black that followed under the contour of the swell of her chest. Puffy shoulders that ended quickly, revealing bare arms that ended in little ribboned cuffs. A skirt that was ended halfway down the leg, with the appearance of an apron sewn onto its front. White opaque stockings that accentuated the exact shape of her legs, and little black shoes with a single strap to keep them on, and a smart button to keep the strap in place.

She relaxed her usual sense of self control, and let her tail have a mind of its own, swaying back and forth, high as it was, playing with the many ruffles the outfit had. Y'shtola smiled, and gave Zoissette a deep curtsy, making sure to emphasize the movement of her bust as she did so, before coming back up to stand, one hand on her outwardly cocked him, and smiling coquettishly all the while.

"How may I serve the master?" she crooned, strolling over to the side of the bed to climb up on it. Zoissette stared at her, hands still clutching the sheets to her chest.

"You do not have to do this for me," said Zoissette.

"And yet I have," said Y'shtola, throwing a leg over Zoissette's body, coming to straddle the woman, knees on either side of her hips. She curled a finger under Zoissette's chin, trying to look her in the eyes.

Zoissette averted her gaze, staring off to the side.

"You have well heeded my no, but will you accept my yes?" prodded Y'shtola.

"You don't have to do this for me," repeated Zoissette.

"Perhaps I wish to. Though if this is your no, I shall accept it; and we needs not explore this further if you do not wish. But if you think only of my prior rejection, then set that aside. My wishes must be taken into account if this is to work, and I must needs be free to change my mind, if not yours."

Zoissette's eyes fell, and she was quiet for a moment, before looking back to Y'shtola.

"I like this," she said, her voice small.

Y'shtola made a thoughtful hum noise deep in the back of her throat.

"Then tell me what you want."

Zoissette swallowed, and then tentatively reached up, and pulled Y'shtola into a kiss. Their lips met, warm and wet, and Zoissette pulled, really pulled Y'shtola in. Y'shtola marred appreciatively as fingers wound through her hair, firm against her scalp.

It would be so easy to melt against her, to melt into her.

But instead Y'shtola placed a gently on Zoissette's chest, and gently pushed herself away. Zoissette immediately broke contact, letting her hand fall away from where it had been.

"No. I find I must insist. Tell me, Sette. Tell me. What you. Want."

She sat back, leaning back a little on her hands. She watched as Zoissette's lips thinned. As her eyes began to water a bit. As she bit her lower lip nervously. As her eyes darted to and fro, searching Y'shtola.

For her part, she tried to be as an open book. She let her tail wander free, still curious, still swishing behind her. Ears remaining forward, open. She was serious, but not angry.

She wanted to know. She had to hear it from Zoissette's mouth, in Zoissette's way.

"I want you," said Zoissette at last.

Y'shtola gave her a look.

"How delightfully detailed."

"Please, let me finish," pleaded Zoissette. "I want... I want you, Shtola. I - I want you. You're - you are - you're beautiful to me. I love you, and I want you, and I feel ridiculous. It's not like I can't, cannot, talk about sex. I have had sex! We've had sex!"

Y'shtola reached forward, and took Zoissette's hands as words began spilling out of her.

"I have talked about sex before! With others, true, but still. I mean, I remember the first man I took to bed. He - he wanted oral, and we talked about it. I remembered anticipating that talk coming, I remember reading, I remember getting advice..."

Y'shtola bit her lip so as not to laugh at the mental image of a young and studious Zoissette Vauban looking at whatever passed for what would have had to have been Ishgardian books about sex.

"And after we were done, he seemed to like it at the time. Later on he complained, though. He said - the way I spoke about it. That I was like a whore. He meant it to insult. He was trying to hurt me, and that - that did hurt. The way he said it. Not what he said, though. I was... proud of that later, to be honest. I mean, he had compared me to a professional. You know? I was rather pleased with myself. Me! A professional at sex! And I have explored such things before! I've - another one. He, uhm, he wanted to tie me up. That took a lot of talking really, a lot of work. I... I think he liked the idea of me being helpless."

Y'shtola felt a tiny bit of a warm squirm at the idea of being helpless, a tiny distant twitch. She squashed it for now.

"We learned rope work together, and that was... enjoyable enough. And I remember one, someone wanted me to use a strap-on on his ass. I had to ask him a few times to be sure, and we had to be very careful, but he certainly enjoyed it very much. And I must confess, that experience did have a certain degree of delight to it."

Zoissette was babbling, and Y'shtola interrupted her, as gently as she could manage.

"I am fair certain that I do not wish to hear about your entire tumbling history, Sette."

"Sorry! Sorry. I'm, I am, I am rambling, it's just... I didn't want them. I liked them well enough, you know. I was being accommodating, it made them happy, I was curious, it was nice. It was nice! But."

Zoissette's hands clenched around Y'shtola's, squeezing tight.

"I want you. And I can feel that. It's overwhelming. I feel it, swelling up in my chest. Pressing against my ribs. Like I am going to burst."

She was breathing hard, and Y'shtola reached up behind Zoissette's head, and pulled closer once more, touching their foreheads together, looking up at her through her bangs, sharpening her aethersight until real colour, the true deep browns in Zoissette's eyes, could be seen.

"I am more than willing to explore such things with you, Sette. But you have to tell me what they are."

"I do not want to screw this up, Y'shtola."

"Our relationship is not so fragile as to not survive a few very frank discussions."

"I do not want to upset you."

Y'shtola sighed. She had thought about this, and had ready a response.

"And I find I must needs apologize for my earlier reaction," she said. "It 'twas because I am Miqo'te. My people, fair or not, have a reputation, and as such I have received far too many propositions from those who view me as just an object for their pleasure. Little more than a thing, free for the taking. You are not the cause for my poor reception, and should not have been the recipient of my ire."

"Uhm. Wait. I'm thinking. Uhm. What if... what if I wanted to treat you like that?"

Y'shtola smirked. "Then perhaps I would acquiesce to be owned by a kindly master for a short time, if you wish to speak of such further. 'Tis different between us, as you might well guess."

Zoissette frowned, thinking. "What if I wanted to be treated like an object?"

"That's the spirit," said Y'shtola encouragingly. "There is that curious mind which I so adore."

Zoissette shifted a bit under Y'shtola, then gently pushed against her. "Please move. I think... I think I want to lay down."

Y'shtoal acquiesced, moving off of her, letting Zoissette lower herself on the bed, until she was laying on her side, facing away from Y'shtola. After a moment's thought, Y'shtola followed her.

It was a little ridiculous that she was in bed wearing her shoes. And they were not very comfortable. She would need to speak to her haberdasher if this was to be a common thing. At least the stockings were rather comfortable. It was a little ridiculous to be thinking of this just now. She pressed up against Zoissette's back, and Zoissette leaned back into her.

"I do not even mind that you got upset," said Zoissette, her breathing now slow once more. "Not really. You have a temper, but it is rarely mean. You can be blunt. Honest. I love that about you." She twisted, shifting, trying to look over her shoulder back at Y'shtola. "I do not want that to change. But I think I might be scared. You are just... I do not know."

Y'shtola gave her space, as she rolled the rest of the way over.

"I like that you're blunt. That you are blunt. Frank. But you are not always blunt. Sometimes you tease, I can tell. When you are honest, you get that stern voice. When you tease, you are charming instead. Threatening to put me over your knee."

"Remember that, do we?"

"Calling Magnai little sun."

Y'shtola allowed herself a wicked smile at that.

"And most of the time it's fine. It is fine! But it was different when I proposed the maid outfit. You were mad, and I got scared, and... maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should be braver."

Zoissette sighed heavily. "I usually am ... better. You've been mad at me before. That has never scared me. You always have a reason."

"Usually."

"You usually have a reason."

Zoissette reached out a hand, to play her fingers through Y'shtola's hair, even as she looked elsewhere.

"I would like to propose an accord," said Y'shtola.

Zoissette looked up. Met her eyes.

"You must ask for that which you desire, and ever so long as you heed my no, I promise you need not fear my ire on the matter, as I shall not allow it to turn into a true anger. I shall return to you the same courtesy. But this also means you must needs allow me my yes. You may change your mind as well, if you wish, but you must allow me space to say my own yes. Do you understand?"

Zoissette nodded, slowly, and Y'shtola reached up a hand to touch her face.

"Very well. Then tell me, what do you want?"

Zoissette's eyes searched Y'shtola's face, and she reached up to touch Y'shtola's hand in turn. She was close enough that Y'shtola could feel her tense.

"Maybe I want to ruin you," she said. "Maybe I want to take that strap on and lift your tail and find your asshole and pound until you cry. Maybe I want to see what it looks like when Y'shtola Rhul loses her composure and breaks and loses herself in the moment."

Y'shtola drew in a sharp breath, surprised, and almost drew back.

Almost.

Instead she turned to that squirming that had lit up inside of her, and seized her own fears and feelings, and sunk herself into them, claws and teeth and wickedness.

Her nails bit lightly into Zoissette's cheek. Anger turned to heat. She turned it to her own ends. Was she not Y'shtola Rhul?

"Maybe I will let you," she returned. "Or maybe I want you to force me to, oh warrior. Embrace your darkness, and let my shadow swallow you."

Zoissette's breath hitched, and the tips of her ears turned red once more, and her breath became rapid. She pulled back, sitting up suddenly, and began waving her hands in the air.

Y'shtola, feeling the tiniest bit of a smug sense of self-satisfaction at seeing Zoissette's control slip in this tiniest fraction, propped herself up one one arm to watch with a wry smile.

"Too much," said Zoissette. "Oh Fury, that was too much. But..." she turned, and her words began to spill out in a flood. "Really? Are you sure you want to try? You are willing to try? Should we try? Oh, gods. I want that. I want you. I want your everything, Shtola. Right now I have never felt more that I want everything I want to explore everything oh my gods I want to bury my fingers deep in your quim I want to hear you scream I want. Oh, I want. What is happening right now? What am I even doing? What are we doing?"

"Shh shh shh shh shh," said Y'shtola, following up after Zoissette, wrapping her arms around her and pulling close to her, holding her, rocking with her gently while her lover edged towards having a meltdown. "Take a moment. Collect yourself. Breathe. Think."

Zoissette trembled in Y'shtola's arms.

"Think past maybe," said Y'shtola. "You are curious, you are exploring, you are asking questions, but I still wish to have your answer true. Forget yourself. Let go. Be with me, in this moment. Tell me, Zoissette. Right now, what, more than anything, do you truly want?"

Zoissette looked over at Y'shtola, shaking. And in the smallest voice, she said, "Hold me."

And Y'shtola held her. As she buried her head in Y'shtola's chest, and began to cry. Her body began to shake with the force of overwhelming emotion, and Y'shtola could feel it. Could feel how her core quaked, how her shoulders shuddered.

She felt hands clutching to her as though she were a lifeline.

"I'm sorry," sobbed Zoissette.

"It's alright," said Y'shtola, gently. "I've got you."

And that set off a torrent anew. Zoissette's face scrunched, jaw tight, tried to get ahold of herself. Curling tighter. Holding tighter.

Several long minutes passed in the room, just like that. Y'shtola just watched over Zoissette. Held her. Just held her, as she processed whatever this was. Grief? Fear? Y'shtola did not know.

She just knew it was real, and that right now, there was nothing more she wanted than to be here, to help Zoissette through it.

A perverse thought passed her mind. That she may have been privileged to be here for this. To be trusted so, despite, well.

Despite being a blunt and honest and sharp-tongued kind of woman.

But Zoissette saw her as a safe haven, and she knew, in that moment, she would rather die than ever betray that.

Y'shtola swallowed, thickly. Matters for later. After the storm had passed.

And pass it did. Zoissette's tears slowed, and stopped. She got her breathing under control, first in big gasps, then in shallows, then gradually, calm, slow breaths. Her shaking became trembles became a stillness.

"Remind me," she said, her voice quiet, resting against Y'shtola.

"Sette?" asked Y'shtola, gently.

"I am tired of being tired of being this. I am exhausted. Kiss me. Feel me. Touch me. Eat me. Remind me that I'm alive. Remind me that... I am wanted."

She sniffed. "I want you to take care of me." She rubbed her face. "Fury, I'm snotty and gross."

Fortunately, Y'shtola had made sure the maid outfit had come with some accoutrements. Zoissette, after all, did still need a proper caretaker to check on her throughout the day. She reached into a pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, and handed it to Zoissette, who took it gratefully and wiped her face down before blowing her nose.

"Sorry."

"And for what are you apologizing? For having feelings? Needs? The high crime of being human, perhaps?"

Zoissette snorted a laugh, not a derisive thing, just a noise she could not help. She further made a most unladylike noise, cleared her nose the rest of the way, and then gave a warmer, clearer laugh.

Y'shtola smiled. It was a little gross.

And that was surprisingly okay.

"Feeling better?"

Zoissette nodded, setting the handkerchief aside.

"Then lay down," said Y'shtola, sitting on the side of the bed to take off her shoes. She heard Zoissette shuffle in the bed behind her.

She considered her approach, unbuckling her shoes and setting them aside neatly, one by one. She stood up, and looked over her shoulder, to see Zoissette laying down. And to see that she had Zoissette's full attention. The woman was quiet, now. The storm had well and truly passed, and she was just... attentive. Y'shtola swished her tail, and was gratified to see Zoissette's focus and attention shift. She slowly reached down, under her skirt, and hooked her thumbs into her smalls, and slowly, swaying her hips, pulled them off.

She looked again. The mood of the room had shifted. She certainly had Zoissette's full, complete, and judging from the glassiness of her eyes, lusty attention. She turned, and winked, pressing her smalls into Zoissette's hand.

"Hold these for me, master," she said, placing emphasis on the last word. And she laughed at the choking noise Zoissette made.

This was silly. She -was- silly. And perhaps silliness is what was needed, in the wake of what had come before.

"I think I shall enjoy continuing our conversation," she purred, as she put one knee on the bed, and leaned over far enough to kiss Zoissette. A soft, gentle, teasing thing that she slowly leaned into, just enough to really get the feel of Zoissette's lips, before pulling back. She pulled the blanket back, and began to reach for Zoissette's smalls.

"No," said Zoissette. "Let me."

Y'shtola nodded, and sat back, and watched. Zoissette looked down at herself, and reached down, and arched her back to lift her butt as she shimmied her smalls down her legs. Y'shtola appreciated the scene on view. Zoissette was still in recovery, technically. She still had some trouble getting around. She was having a bit of trouble now, but Y'shtola recognized the impulse for what it was, the desire to do things for oneself. And so she content to just watch.

And despite all that, Zoissette was still everything to Y'shtola. She admired the scene, as cotton slid over soft brown skin and powerful muscular thighs. As Zoissette curled, making the quietest pained whimpering noise at the effort, at having to flex so far, to get them around her kneecaps. And her heart soared as at last Zoissette had them down her calves, then around an ankle, then kicked off unceremoniously off to one side of the bed.

Zoissette laid down, throwing her head back, and sucked in a sharp breath, and Y'shtola laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you well to continue?"

Zoissette nodded. "...just not as flexible as I should be yet. Aches. I'm alright."

"Very well," said Y'shtola. She sat back and allowed herself a moment more. Her love, bottomless. Even in this state, she was beautiful to Y'shtola.

She would always be beautiful, for she was Zoissette, and precious.

And also, her quim was right there.

"You may want to prop yourself up with a pillow," said Y'shtola, and Zoissette did so. Once she was resettled, Y'shtola crawled up next to her, and threw a leg over her, straddling her once more.

Just the other way around this time. She laid down on Zoissette, finding a position to be reasonably comfortable in, and once she was satisfied, she reached down, and hiked her skirt up, exposing her lower half, to offer Zoissette something to look at. And grumbled a bit as her tail interfered with the motion, before she just sat up and pulled it to a more cooperative position. Hands on her hips, she nodded her head, and then lowered herself once more, hiking her skirts up again.

She could not see Zoissette's face anymore. But situated as she was, she could feel her, feel the way her breath was shifting, feel her stomach tightening, feel that control asserting itself.

Y'shtola was going to find each and every way past that one day.

But for now, she was at last, satisfied with the setup, and finally lowered her head, rubbing her nose in Zoissette's pubic hair, appreciating the feel of it against her cheek as she nuzzled it, and gave one of Zoissette's thighs the gentlest of kisses.

"May I touch?" asked Zoissette.

"You may."

Zoissette was still far taller than her. While she had her face in Zoissette's crotch, there was no reasonable way for Zoissette to return the favor in kind, not exactly. She did not mind. And she did not mind when she felt Zoissette's hands on her ass, and tracing the outsides of her thighs. She let her tail have its way, swishing and swaying, the ruffles of her skirt playing around her butt, bumping into Zoissette's hands and arms, and she wiggled her hips, attempting to entice, showing off.

She fancied herself a gift for Zoissette and Zoissette alone.

And she was giving a show for Zoissette alone to enjoy while Y'shtola herself built up to the main event. She continued to pepper Zoissette's thigh with kisses, finishing with just the tiniest nip, just the lightest touch of teeth to skin. Behind her, she heard Zoissette's breath hitch, while under her, she felt it, felt the twitch of her chest as she gasped. She hummed, deeply and lovingly, and she ran her hands down toned thighs, digging her fingers in just enough to find the texture of muscles. Powerful, almost like thick corded braids, and she took her time to appreciate them.

And Zoissette appreciated the attention in turn, making the most delightful soft noises, her legs slowly spreading apart as she warmed to Y'shtola's touch. As Y'shtola in turn returned to kisses, now on the other thigh. As her hands continued to explore. Pressing against the outside of a buttcheek. Playing along the upper leg. Lightly, experimentally, from time to time, touching Zoissette's outer lips. Feeling Zoissette's breathing grow deep, hear it become throaty. Buring her face deep in the woman's crotch and breathing in deep, noticing and delighting in the change in scent.

At last, however, Y'shtola grew tired of where she was. She simply could not get a good angle like this, not with the way Zoissette was sitting. She pulled away, and Zoissette made a disappointed noise as her hands left her ass. Y'shtola simply looked at her primly as she held her skirts around her waist, climbing off Zoissette and sitting to one side on her knees.

"Sit up and spread your legs if you will, master," she said. Zoissette's face flushed, and she hurried to shift position. "Knees up," she commanded, and Zoissette nodded, bending her knees. Y'shtola moved around to be between them, and rested her hands on Zoissette's knees for a moment, enjoying the sight.

And then she shifted around and made herself comfortable. She was in no rush. The only thing she wished was maybe an opportunity to pull off the maid outfit. She would need to be asking Tataru later about a setup which perhaps featured a blouse and skirt, instead, if she were to make a habit of this.

But that was a problem for later. For now, she had momentum, and she intended to capitalize on it.

But first.

"Is this still alright?" she asked.

Zoissette swallowed, and then nodded. "Yes. Please. Please keep going. I need this. I need you."

Oh, too easy.

"You need me? To what end..." and she paused, waited, luxuriated.

"...master?" said Y'shtola, voice low, dark.

"If you do not eat my quim I will explode," said Zoissette desperately.

Y'shtola laughed, and she kept laughing as she lowered herself slowly, and let her laugh trail off as she got close, and locked her eyes onto Zoissette's as she almost made contact.

Zoissette was tense, still. The anticipation was present in every ilm of her being. Her body was almost iron.

Y'shtola winked, closed her eyes, and her lips met Zoissette's, wetness of tongue meeting the wetness of Zoissette's body, and she heard Zoissette gasp with the release of the breath she had been holding.

She hummed appreciatively, and pushed her tongue between Zoissette's folds. She wanted to take it slow. To take her time. To really appreciate the moment and show her appreciation in turn. But the teasing, the conversation, the openness, the everything was upon her, and she was suddenly aware of a hunger she did not even fully realize she had.

She wanted to hear Zoissette scream, and she wanted it to be her name, and she wanted to push Zoissette over the edge, and she wanted. Oh, she understood what Zoissette meant, she wanted. And so she abandoned herself. Her tongue was in Zoissette as far as it could go, eager, hungry, licking, first one side, then the other. She arched her back and scooted forward, one hand holding her steady against Zoissette's thigh, the other finding its way in, fingers reaching deep into Zoissette's quim. She struggled to control herself, shaking slightly. She had to control herself. Her lips needed to find Zoissette's clit first. She needed to, and there. She puckered, and kissed the clit deeply, her lips around it, her tongue pressing against it, as she made space for her fingers, and pressed.

The suddenness and speed of her attack rocketed up Zoissette's body, and the hand she had on the thigh had to move to push down against Zoissette's stomach, to remind the other woman to stay in place. She felt Zoissette's body tense, felt her lock, her breathing having gone rapid.

"Oh gods oh fury oh gods," panted Zoissette. "Too much too much too much," and Y'shtola, though reluctant, relented, eased off, backed away.

"No no no more more more," said Zoissette immediately. "Don't stop don't stop please don't AH!" she screamed, as Y'shtola needed no further encouragement.

Her lips held suction tight. Her tongue pressed hard. Her fingers, curled, and she jerked her hand inside of Zoissette until, at last, Zoissette boiled over, screaming her name, hands on either side of her head and fingers clenching and clenching against her scalp, Zoissette still controlling herself. Resisting actually grabbing, resisting actually forcing Y'shtola's head to stay in place.

Not that she would have minded. Conversation for late. As it was, she was holding herself in place perfectly find, even though she well had to use her whole body to do so.

Zoissette caught her breath once more, gasping. "More," she said, hoarsely, and Y'shtola was but too happy to oblige. She pressed in again, tongue and lips and hands and face and pressure built up to release, and Zoissette's legs wrapped around her, and she surprised, near crushed by the force.

Zoissette curled tight, and Y'shtola freed herself enough to look up, to see her face, scrunched in focus and concentration as she bore down. She almost needed not do anything, as she just kept her fingers inside Zoissette, moving them rhythmically, and let another wave crash through Zoissette.

This time, Zoissette went limp, practically throwing herself back down on the bed. When she spoke, it was between gasps.

"Okay. No more. I'm done. That's it. Oh, gods, Shtola. I think I'm dead. Oh, gods, it hurts like I'm dead."

Y'shtola became aware of her own breathing, heavy, almost panting. She reached a hand up, to gently stroke Zoissette's side. Zoissette twitched, but did not pull away from the gesture, instead reaching down her own hand to touch Y'shtola's, encouraging it to stay.

"Are you quite alright?" said Y'shtola, truly concerned. That had been rather more than she had planned for for the day. And, in retrospect, possibly more than Zoissette could handle.

"My legs are killing me. My stomach is killing me. I have never been better. Let me die here like this. It's a good death."

"No such thing," chided Y'shtola, but her tone was light, teasing. Relieved, she extricated herself from between Zoissette's legs, and moved up to hold her in her arms. Zoissette, gratefully, rolled to collapse against her.

"Thank you," said Zoissette at last.

Y'shtola played with her hair, and nuzzled the top of her head.

"Have you been sufficiently reminded, my love?" she murmured into Zoissette's ear.

Zoissette looked confused for a moment, but then her face lit up, and she smiled, contented, and sighed happily.

"I am alive," she said.

"And desired," said Y'shtola, and kissed her once more.

#ffxivwrite2024 #final fantasy xiv #zoissette vauban #y'shtola rhul #caretaker #202409-23 #biot writes #cw: sex

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foundress0fnothing · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

~5.3k words, rated E (explicit)

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

This is just PWP, so be warned (and enjoy)!

Written for @elucienweekofficial Day 7: AU.

Title from “Project for a Fainting” by Brenda Shaughnessy (I’m currently obsessed with this poem and it’s a banger and you should definitely read it).

Lucien POV

“What the fuck kind of bar is this?”

Lucien stared incredulously at the scene unfolding before his eyes. The room itself—what he could see of it, anyway—was innocuous enough. It looked the part of an upscale bar: dark wood furniture and walls painted a blue so deep they were almost black, softened by warm light spilling from lamps scattered throughout and low, plush couches in jewel tones that lined the outer perimeter of the room. There was greenery everywhere—ivy climbing the walls, monsteras arching out of pots in the corners of the room, philodendrons dripping off of the bar that was tucked into the back corner of the room. Music, something pulsing and rhythmic, played in the background, not quite loud enough to distinguish words or melody.

And the scent of the space—a heady mix of jasmine and honey that Lucien could feel twist around him as he stood on the threshold, inviting him to step inside, to linger, to lose himself in the promise of the evening.

But he resisted that pull, tempting as it was, instead standing frozen at the sight of the bar’s clientele. They gathered in groups of two or three or four, most draped intimately across each other, touching and fondling and teasing their partners, not caring who might see in the public space. They were all in various states of undress as well, some wearing regular street clothes that were haphazardly hanging off their bodies after one of their partners’ ministrations, some wearing what Lucien could only imagine was niche fetish wear.

Tearing his gaze away from what he was pretty sure was seconds from descending into a full orgy, he turned to look at Vassa and Jurian who stood a few paces behind him, “I’ll ask again,” he said, flicking his eyes between the two of them. Only Vassa had the grace to look slightly apologetic. “What the fuck kind of bar is this?”

“Their drinks are really good,” Vassa started, but Lucien cut her off.

“That’s not what I asked, Vas.”

“It’s what got Jurian in the door at least.”

Jurian offered a lazy grin. “And who wouldn’t want to stay for the rest?”

Lucien glared at him.

“And we figured,” Vassa continued, drawing his attention back to her, “that after Jes and everything, it might be good. For you.”

“It might be good for me?” Lucien raised an eyebrow skeptically, even if, on some level, he could see the appeal of a night of debauchery, of throwing himself into the throng of bodies and free-flowing booze. And it’s not like Vassa was wrong about Jes. Lucien had been ready to propose, had even picked out a ring, until she unceremoniously dumped him a month ago, deciding that she was looking for something different, something—how had she said it?—“more interesting.”

And he had been wallowing in that loss ever since. He didn’t go out anymore, didn’t reach out to friends, instead moving between work and his apartment and ghosting anyone who tried reaching out. For good reason apparently, he thought to himself, daring another glance into the room where he saw a short woman wearing only a bustier and sheer tights plant herself in the lap of a man wearing an identical outfit.

Vassa clarified, drawing his attention away from his efforts to make sense of the dynamics of that relationship. “You know—to meet someone new.”

“And,” Jurian added, “you’ve fucking sucked this last month. So. This is for us too.”

Lucien flipped him off. “Thanks, asshole.” He paused. “Look, guys, I appreciate what you’re trying to do—”

“Good.” Vassa grinned devilishly. “So stay.”

“But.” He gestured vaguely into the room, trying not to let his gaze linger for too long on any single thing. People notwithstanding, the room itself seemed determined to draw him in, the light and the music and the perfume and the heat all conspiring to make him take that first step over the threshold and find something—someone.

He shook it off. “I don’t think your little…club, or bar, or whatever it is, is really gonna fix the Jes thing.”

“It’s not just a club though,” Vassa argued.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“It’s—oh, what’d they say our first day here, Jurian? When we joined? ‘A place to get in touch with both the mental and physical self, and to meet others on similar journeys of self-discovery.’ She parroted the phrase, and Jurian nodded.

Lucien looked at them incredulously, waiting for one of them to burst out laughing, to tell him it was all a prank and that they put out some sketchy ad on Craigslist to cheer him up. When neither did, he clarified. “So…it’s a cult.”

“Cult is such a strong word, Lucien,” Vassa said with a frown.

“Yeah, but is it the right word though?” Not a prank then, he thought to himself, bewildered by the fact that his friends were apparently participating members. In a cult. In this cult.

“Lighten up, Lucien,” Jurian said, rolling his eyes. “Get a drink. See if anybody catches your eye.”

Lucien laughed in disbelief. “I’m not about to join your sex cult, assholes.”

Both of them ignored his protestations, giving him a slight shove and pushing him further into the room. He could feel its pull even more strongly now, teasing and promising, and wondered for a moment how bad it could be if he just spent one night here.

“No one’s going to make you join, Lucien. It’s not that kind of group.” Vassa smiled over his shoulder at someone she recognized, holding up a finger to let whoever it was know that she was on her way over.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, super glad you didn’t bring me to the join-or-die kind of sex cult.”

“Besides,” she continued. “The head gets to make the final call about members anyway.”

“The head?” He repeated. “Sorry—are you telling me there’s an application for the sex cult?”

Vassa winked at him. “It’s a very thorough review.”

Lucien snorted, imagining it must be. He looked around the room again, trying to guess who the head of a group like this might be. Not that he was about to join. But, as he ran his eyes over the people in the room, no one stood out to him as an obvious leader—they all touched and groped and moved between each other with apparently little regard for hierarchies or rules.

Vassa put a hand on his arm. “Stay for a drink at least. They are actually really good.” With that, she released Lucien and grabbed Jurian’s hand, pulling him into the room and aiming for a hideous pink couch where a beautiful woman with long black hair sat waiting for them.

Not wanting to linger awkwardly at the front of the room, Lucien began moving toward the bar, letting the atmosphere envelop him and guide him through whatever this night was about to be.

Everything felt more somehow, as if each step forward was turning a dial up tick by tick. The lights were warmer, the music more thrilling, the perfume more heady—and Lucien took it all in, giving himself over, at least slightly, to the magic of the room and the eroticism it promised.

He had done this—well, something like it—before Jes. He could do it again. And a drink would help.

“What’ll it be, handsome?”

Lucien glanced up at the voice coming from behind the bar, honey-smooth and sweet, only to lose himself in the beauty of the woman to whom it belonged. She had wide brown eyes the color of chestnuts and golden brown hair that framed her face with soft waves that stretched halfway down her back. And her dress—Lucien felt his mouth gape slightly as he took in the tight green satin bodice lined with lace that softened into something more loosely flowing as it hit her hips.

She was easily the most stunning woman Lucien had ever seen, and he felt any lingering irritation with Vassa and Jurian bleed away.

“So—are you going to order something?” The woman was still smiling up at him, although something mischievous danced in her eyes, clearly pleased by his reaction.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the menu written in neat script behind the bar and willing himself to focus on anything but the sensual curve of her lips. Each drink was artisanal, the ingredient lists long and propriety and brimming with herbs and berries in addition to the liquor. One glance at the bottles lining the wall told him that his usual bar drinks—an old fashioned or a scotch and soda—would be out of place here, would mark him even more as an outsider to the little world of this bar that he was increasingly interested in the longer he spent in the presence of the pretty bartender.

“I’ll have a Like the Fox.” It was gin and orgeat and falernum, tempered with berries and lime and bitters—and hopefully a suitably impressive order.

The bartender beamed up at him. “That’s what I would have chosen for you too.” She started to gather bottles in front of her.

“But,” Lucien said, leaning slightly over the bar. “I’ll only have it on one condition.”

She huffed a laugh. “And what’s that?”

Giving her what Vassa and Jurian called his ‘panty-dropping grin,’ he said, “If you have a drink with me.”

She held his gaze for a moment and then deliberately began looking him over, taking in every detail from the bright red hair he had gathered in a loose bun to the scar bisecting his eye from a failed biking stunt as a kid to the way his wine-red dress shirt hugged his chest. And then her gaze moved lower. He stood still, not wanting to fidget under her scrutiny. Everywhere her eyes landed burned, and Lucien found himself basking in that burn, the painful pleasure of it like midday August sunlight—longed for and too much and slightly sweet, all at once.

He watched as the bartender flicked her eyes back to his from where they had been lingering on the long line of his legs as if she could somehow see what was hidden underneath the gray slacks. He almost hoped she could.

And then she winked, grabbing a rocks glass and placing it alongside the coupe for his drink.

Lucien grinned, pleased that she was willing to play along. “And what is my drinking companion’s drink of choice?”

Reaching for its ingredients—whiskey, berries, honey, sage—she grinned right back. “Resist the Temptation.”

Elain POV

Elain had seen him the moment he stood on her doorway with Vassa and Jurian. Lucien Vanserra, Vassa had told her: tall, with rich brown skin and vibrant red hair and a scar across his left eye. He was dressed well, his clothes expensive and tailored to fit his broad frame, and he held himself with an ease that belied how uncomfortable he must have been at his first sight of her club.

She could kiss Vassa—and maybe she would later—for bringing him. Late one evening last weekend, spent and sweaty and draped over the pink couch that Vassa and Jurian seemed inordinately fond of, Elain lamented how bored she was, how familiar everyone and everything was, how she wanted something new.

And Vassa had smiled as she ran her fingers idly through Elain’s hair, a fire lighting in her eyes when she promised that she had the perfect something new in mind.

Looking up at Lucien now as she mixed their drinks, Elain suspected that Vassa had been right.

Not wanting the silence to stretch too long between them, she said, “I should have made you guess my drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Yes,” she said, humming slightly. “I would have found it terribly impressive.” Elain tossed her hair primly over her shoulder, smiling to herself as she watched how Lucien’s eyes glazed over slightly as they tracked the movement of the honey brown waves. “You’ll just have to find another way to impress me then, Fox,” she said, placing his drink down in front of him.

Blinking rapidly as he came back to himself, he picked up the glass and hit her again with one of the rakish smiles that she imagined got him anything he wanted. “And why do I get the sense you’re not easily impressed?”

He was right. She had been easily impressed once, had almost married a man straight out of college who listened to alt-right podcasts in his parents’ basement and refused to get a job, all because he had a sweet smile and told her he loved her. But he didn’t like that she didn’t want kids right away, that she wanted to travel first or open her own business, and he dumped her, expecting her to come crawling back. She didn’t.

No—instead, Elain mourned the loss of the relationship for exactly twenty-four hours before packing up and setting off on a backpacking trip around the world, eating good food and meeting new people and learning what it was she liked. And she found she liked people. And love—but not exclusivity. So when she got back, she opened the Larkspur Room, named after a flower that could mean both strong love and fickleness, and slowly began to gather its members. They came from all backgrounds, from all walks of life, but they were hers, and she was theirs. And she liked it.

But he didn’t need to know all of that. Not yet, at any rate. So she only smiled, letting a hint of mockery bleed into the expression. “Are you not up for it?”

“Are you?” He raised his glass to her in cheers, and then, holding her gaze, took a long, slow sip.

Elain watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Yes, she definitely owed Vassa. He would do very nicely. Even if he was far too cocky—that could be fixed.

She held out her hand. “I’m Elain.”

“Elain.” He repeated her name as he took her hand, shaking it once. He didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away, savoring the feeling of his hand, large and warm and sure.

“And you?” She asked, even though she already knew, before raising her own glass to her lips with the hand not currently bound up in Lucien’s.

“Lucien.”

“You came in with Vassa and Jurian?” Lucien nodded in confirmation, following her gaze to find the pair locked in an embrace with Nuan, one of their usual partners if Elain was busy. And sometimes if she wasn’t.

He glanced back at her, flushing slightly. “Old friends. They…left out a few key details about this bar.”

Elain laughed at that. “Based on your blush, I imagine they did.”

Lucien bristled. “I don’t blush.”

“You don’t?” She challenged, turning her laughter on him. “The pink on your cheeks is just a trick of the light?” Setting her drink down, she reached up with her free hand to trace the side of his face.

He started slightly but didn’t move away, instead leaning into the contact. “I’m used to a little more privacy when I take my lovers to bed.”

Lucien’s voice was low and full of promise, and Elain smiled to herself, feeling her own heart rate pick up ever so slightly.

“What if I could offer you some privacy?”

“Well then, Elain,” he said, releasing her hand and winding his fingers through her hair and pulling it ever so slightly to tilt her face up to look at his. “Then I could show you all the things I’d like to do with you.”

She bit her lip and watched as his eyes tracked the movement. Good. “There’s a room in the back.”

“Lead the way,” he said, releasing his grip on her hair and polishing off the rest of his drink.

As she moved out from behind the bar, she surveyed the room, taking in the groups milling around, chattering and embracing. Nothing had really started yet, despite Lucien’s reactions, and it wouldn’t—not until she gave the word anyway.

As she walked over to his side, having to crane her neck slightly to meet his eyes, she asked, “They really didn’t tell you anything, did they?”

“Is there more I need to know?” He had drawn close, and she breathed in the spicy smell of his cologne, a mix of apples and woodsmoke and bergamot that reminded her of crisp fall days.

Elain smirked but didn’t answer him, instead turning out to the larger room to address her friends, her partners, her family. “Have fun tonight, all.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the groups of people stopped their idle touching and fondling and teasing and began to reach for each other with an urgency and a desire that Elain felt rush through her and settle in her core.

“Come, Lucien,” she said, turning around and walking down the hall to her office. He followed after as if in a daze.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” Lucien asked as he stepped into the room after her and closed the door. She didn’t use it for this often, but it would do—amongst the desk and the papers sat a low bed, framed by diaphanous lilac curtains and fairy lights that softened the administrative air the room would have otherwise carried.

Elain hummed contentedly. “For a few years now.”

“You run the sex cult.” He said it as a statement, not a question.

“I run the Larkspur Room. That’s the actual name. Not “the sex cult.” And it’s more a place for personal journeys and self-discovery anyway. Sex is just part of it.” She walked over to Lucien but didn’t reach out, didn’t restart her seduction. The next step was his to take.

“Yes, so Vassa told me,” he muttered, looking around the office.

“You disagree?”

He shifted his attention back to her. “A fancy motto doesn’t make it any less of a sex cult.”

“Are you complaining?” Elain could argue the semantics of the word cult with him later. After. Assuming he stayed.

He gently gripped her chin between his finger and his thumb, titling her face up and ghosting his thumb over her lips. “No. Not right now.”

“Good.” She smiled up at him. Time for something new.

He leaned down as if to kiss her but then stopped himself, pulling back slightly. “What does this mean? If we…”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it was clear he wasn’t about to, she rolled her eyes. Still hung up on the cult thing. “It can be nothing more than a night if that’s what you want, Lucien.” Disappointing as that would be. Her chin was still caught in his hands, giving her the perfect view of the effect that her saying his name had on him.

“And if I want more?” Slowly, still looking at her face, he began to run his hands down the sides of her body, rubbing teasing circles into her ribs, her hips.

“Then consider tonight your application for membership.”

“Into the cult?”

She looked at him disapprovingly. “Into the Larkspur Room. You could at least try to say the name.”

“And you’ll decide?”

“Who else?”

Lucien laughed sharply at that. “Vassa said it was a thorough review process. I assumed…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the door and the bodies thronging outside.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Why, Lucien, perhaps you’re more adventurous than I thought. But,” she continued, seeing from his scowl that he was about to start arguing about logistics and throwing around the phrase “sex cult” again, “I don’t share on the first night.” She began tracing her hands across the muscles of his chest before slowly reaching up to pull loose his hair tie, allowing the crimson waves—almost as long as hers, she noted—to messily frame his face. “Is that acceptable to you?”

He nodded, running a hand through his now loose hair, and asked, “What’s so thorough about this review, then Elain?”

She liked the way he said her name. It was as if he was offering up a quiet prayer, like she was something to revere, something to cherish. “It’s a test. All you have to do,” she said, “is make me come three times.”

He raised an eyebrow, so she clarified.

“Once on your fingers,” she listed, drawing his hand to her mouth and holding his gaze as she delicately sucked two of his fingers into her mouth, watching as his nostrils flared.

“Once on your tongue,” she continued, releasing his fingers and leaning in so she could lick up the broad column of his neck.

“And once on your cock.” Still kissing his neck, she ghosted her hand down until she could grip him through his pants, delighting in the groan he let out. He was already hard and, she noted with an involuntary whimper, impressively long.

Releasing him and stepping away, she smiled in challenge. “Do you think you can manage?”

“Perhaps.” He grinned back at her as he answered, cockily adding, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Elain huffed a laugh. “We’ll see.” But she hoped he was right. “Questions?”

“One,” he said as he started to unbutton his shirt, allowing her glimpses of his sculpted chest as the two sides slowly parted. “What does membership into your ‘Larkspur Room’ get me?”

Her mouth opened in shock. “Greedy already?”

“I just want to know if the effort is worth it.” His smug smile at the way her eyes kept catching on the planes of his chest was infuriating.

The fucking nerve of him. But Elain had an idea, smiling wickedly as she sank to her knees and said, looking up at him as she unbuttoned his pants, “You tell me.”

Lucien POV

Lucien was fucked. And probably about to join a sex cult.

Because if the way Elain was sucking him was any indication of how the rest of the night would go, he realized that he would do anything, would say anything, would join anything just to have another moment like this with her. He would worship at whatever altar she offered if it meant that she would invite him back to her bed.

Her mouth was impossibly soft and wet, and Lucien groaned at each new pass, willing his body to slow down, to let his mind catch up, to savor the experience.

But it—and Elain—had other plans, and he looked down to see the glint in her eyes as, without warning, she stopped the rhythmic bobbing of her head only to swallow him whole, the tip of her nose brushing against his stomach.

“Fuck, Elain—” he gasped out as his hips stuttered forward and she made a small choking sound at the force of the intrusion. She didn’t stop, although she glared up at him, only widening her mouth and relaxing her throat to allow him more space.

Wrapping fistfuls of her hair around his hands, Lucien began slowly thrusting, fucking her mouth as she braced herself against his thighs, still covered by his gray slacks. He laughed half-deliriously at the realization that he hadn’t even gotten fully undressed, although his laughter quickly turned into a moan, embarrassingly loud and desperate, as she hollowed out her cheeks.

He was going to come embarrassingly quickly, could feel his rhythm start to falter and his balls tighten and then—

It all stopped. Dazed and pleasure-drunk, Lucien looked down to see Elain pull away from his cock, wiping at her lips delicately.

“That,” she said, slightly out of breath, “is one of the things membership in my ‘sex cult’ gets you.” She gave a bratty tilt of her head. “Worth it?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grabbing Elain’s face in his hands and kissing her. His cock screamed at him, begging for release, but he ignored it in favor of continuing to pepper Elain’s lips with kisses. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m—yes. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.” He couldn’t lose this, couldn’t lose her.

She rewarded him with a smile. “I am. And now,” she reached between them, once again taking his cock in her hands, and Lucien gasped at her touch, overly-sensitive, the sensation almost enough to send him over the edge. “We’ll see if you are, Lucien.”

“Elain, I—”

“—have work to do. Because if you finish before you’ve completed your test,” she said, false sympathy in her voice as she continued to slide her hand absently up and down his cock, “I’m afraid you won’t be invited back.”

“Then stop that,” he said, reaching to still her movements, hoping that a reprieve from her maddening touch would give him a chance to get himself under control, to regain some kind of upper hand in this exchange.

“I was just answering your question.” She widened her eyes and blinked at him in false innocence.

He laughed at her performance, reaching behind her as he did so to find the zipper on her dress and tugging it down. “I’m not fooled by your act, Elain. In fact,” he said as the dress slipped off her frame and pooled at her feet, revealing the light green lingerie set she wore underneath. “I think you might just be a brat.”

She reached out for his clothes as well, rapidly undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt as he kicked off his pants and tucked himself back into his underwear. “Let’s hope you get to test that theory in the future, shall we?”

They stood there staring at each other. If Lucien thought Elain was stunning in her dress, it was nothing compared to how she looked now: still slightly flushed from her exertions before, her nipples hard and visible through her bra as she waited for him to make the next move.

“Oh, Elain,” Lucien said, stepping forward to close the distance between them, “that is a privilege I can’t wait to earn.”

And then he kissed her, hard and demanding. He felt her smile against his lips as she arched into him, and he slid his hands up her body to unhook the clasps of her bra, groaning into her mouth as he cupped her tits. “Fuck, Elain.”

“That’s the hope, Lucien.” Breaking the kiss, she shucked off her underwear and walked over to sit on the bed, leaning back slightly to give him a view of her cunt, bare and gleaming. “So what are you waiting for?”

“Brat,” he said, just to say something. Not that it had any bite—he had no control here apparently, no smooth words left, no final tricks, nothing but a desperate desire to see her head thrown back in pleasure, to hear her call his name, to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but this.

“Like what you see?”

He hummed appreciatively, mesmerized at the sight of her spread out like a feast before him. With a reverence that surprised even him, he asked, “Are you wet for me, Elain?”

“Come find out.”

Lucien followed her over the bed and knelt down in front of her, gently dragging a finger through the clear evidence of her arousal. He groaned at the wetness he found there as she arched into his touch. “Elain.”

And with her name on his lips, he began to circle her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves as he felt her begin to writhe against him. “That’s it, beautiful.” He kissed up her neck, sliding his finger lower and into her, pumping in and out.

“More, Lucien. I need more—” she gasped out, and he redoubled his efforts, sliding another finger into her and feeling her clench around him.

“Lucien, I—”

“Are you going to come for me?” He sucked a kiss into her neck, and her moan was like the sweetest music. “Come for me, Elain.”

And she did, clamping down on his hand so hard he swore he could feel it on his cock as she shattered, and he rode her through wave after wave of her climax. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, and nothing he had ever seen could match the sight of her like this.

And he wanted—needed—to see it again. Lucien slid down her body and plunged his tongue into her cunt as her walls continued to pulse around him. Elain moaned at the invasion, still sensitive from her first orgasm, but didn’t pull away, and he groaned at the taste of her, somehow musky and floral and sweet all at once.

He devoured her like a man starved, wet and messy and wildly lost in her. Elain, for her part, thrust her hands through his hair, wrapping it around her fist and using her hold to grind herself against his face, chasing her pleasure. Before long, Lucien could feel her start to tighten again, her climax rising higher and higher until it crested and she followed it over the peak, arching her back and crying out loudly enough that he was positive that everyone in the other room knew exactly what the two of them were doing.

She panted as she came down, blearily lolling her head against the pillow as she rode the aftershocks of her second orgasm. Her hair was messily haloed around her head, and Lucien, pleased with himself, dragged his hand through the tangled silken waves.

She turned to look at him. “Are you done, Lucien?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he looked at her skeptically. “Can you take one more, Elain?”

“Yes, Lucien. Of course.” she breathed out, throwing him a look that was probably meant to be scathing but only came across as pleasantly sated, her eyes lust-drunk. “Make me come on your cock.”

She reached out a hand to the table next to her bed, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a condom that she handed to him. Lucien pulled off his underwear and unwrapped the condom, rolling it over his length and he pumped himself once, twice to the sight of Elain, still naked and breathless beneath him.

He looked at her and she nodded, and without needing any more encouragement, he plunged into her. She was dripping wet and tight and hot, and Lucien groaned at the sensation.

“Christ, Elain,” he moaned, his hips snapping forward as he thrust in and out of her perfect cunt. “So fucking perfect. You are—”

She finished the sentence for him. “Mine, Lucien. You are mine.”

“Yours. I’m yours.” She was a dream, lurid and perfect, something he wanted every day for the rest of his life. He felt his pace stutter at the thought. “I’m not going to last long, Elain.”

She smiled up at him. “Then make it count.”

He drove deeper and deeper into her, reaching between them to find her clit and rolling it over with his fingers until he could feel her breathing hitch, her walls tighten.

“One more time, Elain. Come for me. Let me be yours.”

And for the final time, she shattered against him, and he let the strength of her climax carry him along with it as he came with a shout.

Spent and panting, he rolled off the condom and threw it away, turning to gather Elain into his arms and close to his chest. For now, nothing else mattered—only him and Elain and the absolute bliss of the moment.

She nuzzled into him and smiled. “Welcome to the Larkspur Room, Lucien.”

“Honored to be a member.”

“Want to tell your friends?” She asked sleepily.

“Later.” He gently kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, letting the room—the warm lights, the soft pulse of the music from outside that he could just make out, the sweet smell of jasmine and honey—lull him to sleep.

#elucien #elucienweek2023 #elucienweek #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fanfiction #elucien fic

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gabypigg · 1 year ago

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The way you look at me and my belly, you want to see me get fatter, bigger, bustier, I know, and the way you use me in bed makes me eager to get bigger.

You want this, don't you? Do you want to make your wife bigger and heavier to the point where she needs a couch of her own? Congratulations on the work, I believe you are on the right path.

#FATWIFE #LAZY #GABYPIGGY

#HAPPYPIGGY

#fatty piggy #fat piggy #weight gain #fat belly #feedee girl #feed me #obese piggy #submission #sexy fat

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sanaserena · 1 year ago

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“Vice Admiral Aokiji,” Wilder greeted tightly.

“Commodore Wilder,” sighed the vice admiral, his hand on the doorframe over his head. “Your men were looking for you.”

Wilder let out his own heavy sigh. “And they sent you?”

“I was bored.”

“Aren’t you usually sleeping?” Wilder sneered.

You watched the exchange with a tight interest. This was not the time to lose control. There was one thing that could be said for the vice admiral, he was not a face that had been at Corva.

Clenching your hands at your side, you wrapped more ice around your veins, sealing away the cracks.

The vice admiral didn’t notice. He just blinked drowsily. “I was curious. What hot mama has got your dick wrapped around her finger?”

“That’s none of your business,” said Commodore Wilder, stepping in front of you.

But not, you were sure, for your protection against prying eyes. There was one thing that you had learnt about Commodore Wilder. He was territorial. And right now, for some reason, the vice admiral was a threat.

You didn’t think he looked like a threat. He didn’t look as though he had the energy to be a threat. It was a stark contrast to what your observation haki attested.

His gesture had the opposite effect.

Vice Admiral Aokiji glanced at you then over Wilder’s shoulder. His shades slipped down his nose, revealing a pair of dark eyes. Shakky had black eyes, but they always felt warm. The eyes on this man were like dead coal in a field of ice. Something smouldered, but it wasn’t the coal, and it probably wasn’t smoulder—not unless the cause was dry ice.

Ice slid down your spine. The languid gaze was not unseeing, as it dissected you from top to bottom. You could see him pulling apart your wardrobe. The chic style that Castelle had wrapped you in, hiding away the bustier underneath, fell apart under his gaze.

[...]

The intensity of the vice admiral’s gaze bothered you. It lacked the predatoriness that always sharpened Diamante’s gaze. But the gaze was far from oblivious. Moments ago, it had been somnolent, now, his gaze was of lazy concentration. His eyes lingered on your collar, at the button keeping the shirt closed in a show of modesty, then the gaze slid lower to your breasts.

But the look was brief, and almost instantly he dismissed you.

How dare he?

~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~

Partial snippet of the 'how Aokiji offends the reader for the first time' scene from my ongoing canon (intended) compliant fic, Doffy's Whore, over on AO3 (Doflamingo X reader and Rosinante X reader pairing; Aokiji X reader endgame - the relationships are a little complicated, see AO3 notes, mind the warnings.)

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #corazon x reader #aokiji x reader #aokiji x reader endgame #long fic #smut fic #plot driven #mind the fic warnings #I just realised I haven't posted an aokiji x reader snippet yet

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anxresi · 2 years ago

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Okay, stop what you’re doing and watch this RIGHT NOW.

Are you telling me THIS Chloe, the genuinely remorseful girl ready to burst into tears in front of her idol, THIS Chloe who confesses to feeling ‘useless’ on a regular basis without a single trace of dishonesty, THIS Chloe, who confides it’s not even Marinette that’s her main problem, it’s her own lack of self-worth that makes her lash out at others…

…Can be the same sociopathic monster we see in S4-S5?

Because if you do, I’d go and get my eyes tested.

Just viewing this clip now brought it all home to me. How much they’ve ruined Chloe’s character, by stripping away the few layers she had to reduce her to this wretched caricature we see today.

To reset ALL her growth in one fell swoop and now pretending it never happened. To think what we could’ve got instead of this Mary Sue wannabe Zoe turning up…

…A fascinating character study of a troubled girl with major issues blossoming into a true hero, (or anti-hero, if you prefer) and the impact her new personality and outlook has on the people around her.

Nope, let’s ditch all that in favor of this perfect ‘long list sibling’ turning up out of nowhere, and inheriting everything that Chloe could’ve had after a lengthy redemption arc (true friends, a healthier relationship with her father, a permanent position as Queen Bee) all in the most lazy two-parter ever conceived.

After all, why ‘waste’ seasons worth of gradual development on an established character, when you can pluck one out of the great blue yonder as the finished article? So much more satisfying from a storytelling perspective, right??

Oh, and it forever tarnished my view of Ladybug too, that the solution for Chloe’s problem was to encourage her to be even nastier and more horrible so she could ‘bond’ with the main perpetrator of her feeling of inadequacy and self-loathing for years e.g her own mother.

Yes, let’s continue the endless cycle of toxicity and abuse because it’s so much easier than giving a traumatized teenager in need proper help and support.

This is why I laughed out loud when Miss Bustier announced in the leaks for S5 (not really a spoiler) that ‘everyone had tried to help Chloe’.

Really? Since when?! I must’ve missed an entire season of the show where this happened… (considering the quality of the writing, perhaps this isn’t a bad thing).

Anyway, thanks Ladybug. Some ‘hero’.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #chloe bourgeois #ladybug #ml salt #ml #queen bee #marinette dupain-cheng #disney #zag #chloe

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cassieuncaged · 10 months ago

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Wrapped in Plastic

A Laura Palmer Character Study

TW: drug use, prostitution, murder, death, tobacco language, etc.

WC: 1.3 K

A/N: Another I forgot to cross post from AO3. Also, Laura is 18 in this fic.

Taglist: @roofgeese, @spacestephh, @voidika, @huepazu, @quantum-lover, @chadillacboseman

AO3 Link

She was a bad influence, everyone thought so. The homecoming queen was the opposite of what that pristine picture had suggested. She’d been doped up when the photographer snapped that picture, doing a bump with Bobby in the woods before the dance.

Laying sprawled across the green sofa, Laura was entranced by the plaster ceiling. Off white, a rosy pink. Like a pinprick of blood tainting crisp water: just enough to make it dirty and undrinkable. If she were a lake, the waters would run dark burgundy. How toxic could one person be?

Sucking on a cigarette, Donna sat cross legged on the carpet. Every little puff was accentuated with a wheezing cough. Accusing eyes rolled in the periphery, sharp blue addressing her innocent friend.

“You don’t have to smoke, y’ know?” Annoyance seep into a lazy voice. Everything Laura did, Donna tried. The girl was a damn mynah bird. Then again, Laura had always been the popular trailblazer. The other was a bookworm, with those mousy curls and oversized sweaters. Donna wasn’t a risk taker; her best friend’s mere presence felt like a high in comparison.

“I know,” stifling another cough, she attempted to swallow the smoke which only worsened the situation. “My fingers smell like tobacco.”

“That’ll happen,” sinking into the sofa, she tried not to think about her mother complaining about the lingering smell. Pure hypocrisy since Sarah smoked like a chimney herself. Eyes sought the ceiling again, following a hairline crack. The façade was beginning to break and chip.

It was bound to collapse and crush her in the debris.

......

Tears rolled down ruddy cheeks. A blonde reflection shuddered in the floor length mirror, all but completely exposed in a black and red corset. The garment was stitched with ribbons emblazoned with maroon spades.

Other clients were waiting and Blackie had a temper with her girls. Leave a man waiting too long normally meant the paddle or hands wrapped your throat. Instead, she silently suffered the embarrassment and shame long after Ben Horne had sauntered out of the room.

She’d see Audrey in homeroom tomorrow, innocent doe eyes warm and blissfully unaware. This was Laura’s cross to bear after all. Maybe she’d meet Bobby in the afternoon, score some coke and neck long enough to keep the boy satisfied. Anything to dull the nightmares that came at dusk, when BOB slithered his way into her room.

Wise beyond her eighteen years, everything the young woman did was meticulously calculated. Even though that still cost her more than it all was worth. Mascara bled down peachy cheeks, tainting the dewy faced façade it had taken hours to achieve.

There was a knock on the door before it was wrenched open.

“Next john is ready and-” charcoal eyes widened as the madam saw the mess sitting in front of the vanity, “Honey, you’re a mess.”

“I’m alright,” Laura sniffled, adjusting her bustier. This was all so humiliating. Blackie took a rag to a welting face, pressing the cool cloth to her skin. One tooth snuck onto a cherry red lip, biting nervously. Watery blue eyes fell on the woman’s corkscrew curls, trying to count each ringlet to ease her mind. “I’m alright. I’m alright. I’m alright.”

“The swelling’s going down, sweetie.” The edge of a slender index finger slid beneath one eye. Laura feared she looked like a raccoon. “Let’s reapply the mascara and rouge. You’ll look good as new.”

It had only taken several minutes to restore seraphim that old perverts looked for. A pretty blonde angel that brought them heaven on earth for a couple hours. Realistically, it was a rather ordinary few minutes before she was disposed of like a used tissue.

But that didn’t much matter.

“I’ll send in your next.” Blackie announced before sauntering out the door. Blinking at her blue eyed husk, Laura took a Carnivale masque from the vanity. The garment was polish porcelain with burgundy lips. Black and red diamonds were hand painted across one eye as a matching silk ribbon bloomed from either side.

A bothersome thought kept sneaking to the forefront of her brain, the thought that she should put it on, to hide. Trance like, the object was tied into barrel curled blonde hair. The door squeaked open, announcing the arrival of the next john.

“I’ll be right there, please get comfortable.” Grateful for the silken room divider, a shadow ambled to the four-post bed.

“Take your time.” That voice sent a cold chill down her spine, gut churning at that familiar voice.

“Daddy?” whispering to her reflection, Laura quickly shoved her fist into her mouth. Biting down on one knuckle, she plotted a way to escape. Maybe it wasn’t Leland. Afterall, waspy middle-aged men all bled together: pointedly cordial and awkwardly paternal.

If it were, she’d still have to pass him to run away, embarrassing the two of them in the process. Plastering the mask to her face, Laura quickly pulled her robe on before slinking past the divider.

“I think there’s been a-” horror flashed over her eyes. Leland Palmer hadn’t been there to begin with. It was BOB. Sporting stained denim, malevolent eyes beamed at her hungrily, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

She screamed, tears flooding down her face once more. But no one would save her, not at One Eyed Jack’s. BOB screamed with her before breaking out on a fit of maniacal laughter. Then a hand was hot on her face, knocking the mask to the ground.

“I think you’re too pretty to hide.” He growled, kissing her roughly as fingers clamped around her throat.

......

“You ever think about dying?” Laura asked blankly, sitting stiffly on the picnic blanket. James lay with his head in her lap while Donna hugged her knees.

“Why do you always say dark shit like that?” James’s was soft, not judgmental yet genuinely curious.

“We’re all gonna die someday, suppose it doesn’t hurt to bring up.” Donna shrugged beneath her mop of curls. She wished to sport a wave of golden tresses like her best friend but feared she was doomed to boast unruly hair with innumerable freckles.

Laura would always be the homecoming queen, and she the homecoming queen’s best friend.

“You’re both morose. What’s wrong with just living?” James chuckled, looking up into suede blue eyes. There was trouble lurking in those waters, something he didn’t recognize.

What if I told you I don’t have much time left on this planet? That BOB’s going to destroy me and trap me in the unknown? What about that, James?

“Guess I’m just thinking about the future.” Was all she offered instead, bopping him on the nose. “Do we have any more pie left?”

“Half of an apple from The Double R. Norma said it was on the house.” Donna moved to unwrap the dessert.

“Do you think there’s pie in heaven?” Laura looked over the bluff, thinking of what her afterlife would feel like. Probably lighter, softer than the serrated edge of the inevitable end. Maybe there would rest after bone broke like balsa wood, rancid ichor staining pink silk.

Donna unceremoniously plopped a generous serving of pie onto a paper plate, sliding it across rough gingham. Shrugging James off her plaid skirt, Laura lunged forward to enjoy the delicacy as if it were her last. For all she knew, it was.

“Sure,” Donna stroked aimlessly at blonde hair, “There’ll be pie in heaven.”

......

It was lonely in The Black Lodge. Other than the real Dale Cooper, she had no allies. Only waiting with rigidity for the unknown. A part of her hated the agent, the fact that he was alive and could communicate normally.

Her own words were warped, coming out of her lips with a stilted staccato.

But one hand spread over a black velvet shoulder, golden curls cascading down her back.

Before she could even ask “rof gnitiaw ew era tahW?”, Cooper pointed to the apex of thick red curtains. Blue light exploded into the room as an angel slowly dropped from the high vaulted ceiling. A smile was plastered across cherubic features before tears flooded down her face.

Smiling for the last time, Laura Palmer had won her redemption.

#laura palmer #fanfiction #my fanfiction #oneshot #twin peaks #character study #back story

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jennrypan · 7 months ago

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Have you written that story about Chloe and Ms. Bustier yet?

Lmao no 😭

I'm very lazy-

#j.p speaks #believe me i WANT to but bruh #the motivation to write comes and goes #especially for miraculous fr

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artzychic27 · 2 years ago

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Simon in front of a camera: Hello. My name is Simon O’Connor, a student at Francoise DuPont. For… Reasons, I have been chosen to do a document in order to dispel some rumors people have heard about our school and the teachers. For many of you watching, I’m sure you know what those are. Let’s go to Caline Bustier’s classroom.

*Simon switches the camera around as he approaches the classroom*

Simon behind camera: Now, there have been rumors that she continuously coddles the rich students and forces victims to apologize. On top of that, she doesn’t see the actual victims as victims. Let’s take a look.

*Simon opens the door to show Juleka wrestling Chloé to the group while Marinette is on Lila’s shoulders and ripping out her hair, Nathaniel is facedown on the floor, and Bustier is being drowned out by the students shouting*

Bustier: S-settle down! Marinette! I taught you better than this!

Marinette: I don’t have to listen to you, lady! I’m basically the teacher! I plan every fucking field trip because you’re too lazy to do shit!

Simon: … *Slowly turns the camera toward himself as they yell some more* … Wow.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #simon o'connor #akuma class #Mme. bustier bashing #crack #science kids #mlb oc

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blackblux · 6 months ago

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Au ideas or prompts for fellow fanfic writers writers for miraculous ladybug

Killer au: so basically marinette reaches her breaking point in post season 5 and actually kills Gabriel agreste (aka hawkmoth) she takes the miraculous of the butterfly.

Adrien witnessed the murder by getting out of the room he was locked in. Adrien thinks that ladybug can make a wish to bring his father back.

Adrien: ladybug please bring him it's just a small wish right?

Ladybug: someone has to die if want him back plus it's better anyway no one can take you away from me *she says detransforming into marinette one eye of her was red and tikki and plagg looked horrified*.

Adrien: mari...marinette how are you ladybug and why father!!?

Marinette: it's me now that you know who I am we can be together!!

Tikki: adrien run away from her!! .

Adrien: marinette relax it's it was just a self defence kill hehe *he sees marinette use tikki's power without the miraculous or saying lucky charm to create a short scythe*, marinette please put your weapon down you might be akumatized.

Marinette: AKUMATIZED we are supposed to be talking about love, I see maybe you are a sentimonster made by him to trick me * she brutally sliced his hands but he fought back but in the end he lost his limbs were on the floor blood uzing out and his was smashed into a pool of bones, blood and flesh.

Bunnix: what the hell happened to this place it thought it was a default timeline *she knocked this version of marinette and set her to a white place* done.

Meanwhile the unconscious killed was dragged by what looked like an akumatized marinette through a portal after bunnix left her.

Alastor marinette au

So this starts in season 1 instead of marinette being late. She gets to school early and doesn't meet master fu on the way adrien received the black cat miraculous and another random 15 year old civilian receiving the ladybug miraculous instead. Marinette and alya become friends and marinette sees Ivan being bullied instead of helping she sees adrien the perfect boy and her future husband. They go to class and Ivan gets akumatized adrien transformed and together with random ladybug fight stone heart and win while marinette ran to the library and hid behind a book shelf a book fell on her she opens it and reads that she can sign contracts with friendly creatures or request something from them.

Marinette opened the book and saw many options:

Scarlet king

Bill cipher

Alastor

And collector (the best option).

Marinette decided to go with alastor because she could not read clearly.

Alastor: hello my dear would you like request something from me.

Marinette: well sorry for disturbing you mister well I have a crush on adrien agreste you see.

Alastor: Ok but there is a price to be paid relax it's not expensive.

Marinette: thank god it's not expensive hehe I don't have a lot of money.

Alastor uses his magic on adrian it failed due the miraculous protection but it did not matter as long he had finished his part of the deal marinette's soul belongs to him.

Alastor: I'm than I'm dear now it's time to pay * alastor uses voodoo to possess marinette body*

Alanette: this body is nice I love it.

Master fu: I sensed a demon.

Final au is DnD au

Marinette travels on crazy adventures with some of her fellow guild members of the mist hunter guild.

Marinette lawden

Class: artifacar/ chaos alchemist.

Race: arch-human (night type)

Nature: chaotic neutral

Fun fact: made a crown for evil king which when worn would shrink and crush the head with ease.

Title: the problem (by miss bustier) and lazy genius inventor.

Felix fathom

Class: sword assassin

Race: high-elf

Nature: chaotic good

Fun fact: he has started many rebellions.

Title: the rebel

Alya caisere

Class: illusionist

Race: human

Nature: neutral good

Fun fact: she is marinette's best friend

Linx (oc)

Class: blood hunter/tracker

Race: arch-dragonoid (blood type)

Nature: neutral evil

Fun fact: the he has been kicked out of many guilds but his tracking skills are great.

I hope you people have or try to make aus with this

#marinette dupain cheng #Miraculous ladybug au #Villain marinette #original character #fic ideas #Dnd au #Marinette au #miraculous tikki #miraculous adrien #Death #alastor #Alastor from hazbin hotel #ask me anything #ml au #marinette au

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pink-whiskey-woman · 1 year ago

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Happy Haunts Materialize

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receivng), fingering, creampies, heavy kissing, flirtations Dieter, no use of y/n for reader, Disney kink

A lazy hazy sunshine filtered in through the open window of the bedroom, a cool fall breeze blowing in leaving goosebumps on your naked shoulders. Arms wrapped around your west broad chest pushed smack against you, a firm dick notched against your ass leaving you with more goosebumps as a patch beard tracks kisses down your neck, shoulders and spine. Shuffling onto your side you see Dieter and his childlike smile and warm brown eyes looking back at you studying your eyes, your lips and your body, licking his lips and kissing you sweetly. “If we’re gonna get there for rope drop we need to start getting ready” you softly whisper to Dieter. “I know, I know my love just hard to get up so early but for you I’ll do anything” You both yawn and stretch and amble out of bed for breakfast. Scarfing down some toast and coffee you both get upstairs, grab your costumes for the day and jump in the shower together. Soaping each other up while hot water courses over you both wakes you up and makes you incredibly horny, Dieter’s hands massaging your ample breasts pinching and rolling your nipples as his cock grows hard pressed up against the curve of your lower back and you press yourself into him as he moves his hands lower down your hips and ghosts his fingers over your clit lightly drawing circles and whispering in your ear “If you love Disney so much just wait till we get back home you have VIP access to the best ride ever” You turn to push your fingers into solid, tan chest and soft belly behind you wrapping a hand around his semi hard cock and teasing a little yourself. “ I can’t wait, gonna ride it more than once, baby” You both chuckle and turn the cooling water off and step out of the glass doored shower to towel off. Dieter goes to get ready in his guest room and you get ready in the bedroom the outfit purposefully picked to e a perfect mix of sweet and sexy the baby pink dress and satin petticoat hitting at just the right length on your leg a snug fitting bodice and delicate gauzy straps finish the dress while white thigh highs with a pink bow and pink converse on your feet. Underneath a silk pink crotchless thong and bustier set makes you feel like the perfect coquettish princess and hopefully this outfit will do its magic throughout the day. Hair in perfect ringlets, a soft sweet makeup and a dab of your favorite perfume Gucci Guilty and you make your way downstairs and your jaw drops, Dieter who loves nothing more than his comfy clothes and crocs is in black converse high tops, black almost painted on jeans so tight you can see the curve of his sweet little ass, white button down henley sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his sexy forearms, and gray vest. Black leather fingerless gloves on his hands, his usual rings and a few chunky chains complete his look. His hair is spiky and messy and his glasses are thick black rims but look hot as hell on his face and you almost trip on the last stair.

His hand grabs you, the massive size of it alone swallows your wrist and you regain composure. You smooth out your dress and have Dieter put your necklace on that he bought you a pink opal the size of a bottle cap. Gingerly he places the chain around your neck and kisses the nape after he secures it. His cell rings alerting him that the limo is 15 minutes away to take you two to the park. You share a quick joint, slap some gum in your mouth, grab your sleeping beauty loungefly and out the door you go for Dapper Dan day and for a special VIP tour of the park and rides that Dieter secured for you as a birthday present. He may not understand the logistics of it but he knows how special Disney is to you so if it puts a smile on your face he lives for it. You and your magic self saved him from a shitty life and career so to him you're his Cinderella, Belle and every other princess he can name. The limo arrives and whisks you two away to the happiest place on earth for some much needed fun and alone time. You pass lush trees and neatly manicured houses on your way to the park. 20 minutes pass and you are pulling into the VIP lot.

The park is abuzz for how early in the morning it is with people dressed as every era and style of Disney they can muster. A soft sun hits and the sky is nothing but blue clouds. You go to the vip entrance and meet your guide for the day Sophia, a college program trainee who is sweet-faced and bubbly. She is so happy she gets to be your guide and show you all the tricks of the park. The rope drop ceremony starts Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Pluto, Donald and Daisy make their way out to greet everyone and cut the rope and confetti streamers pop as the mad dash to get on rides, shop and run in is happening all around you. Sophia takes you both for some coffee and she starts her tour. A few hours have passed and it's gotten warmer but pleasant and you two have had breakfast, shopped and went on Mad Tea Cups, Snow White, the carousel, for sweet pictures of course, Pirates of the Caribbean, Jungle Cruise, gotten dole whips, took castle pictures, gotten pixie dusted which Dieter enjoyed more than you somehow the glitter falling on his hair like snow shining in the sunlight and a few landing on his lips which you kissed off of him. Lunch was approaching and he took you to Be Our Guest for a private tour and pictures with Belle and The Beast in the library room. Sophia left to grab lunch with another vip guide so it gave you a little alone time to rest and take in the sights and sounds of one of your favorite movies come to life. After the main course was through DIeter whispered something to the waiter and off he went. Just the two of you alone the stained glass casting rainbow shadows on your faces he moved closer to you and rested his hand precariously high on your thigh drawing figure eights with his thumbs. “Are you having fun so far” he asked hoping that you were and that he did a good job with his gift choice. “Amazing, this has been the best day of my life so far, you are so thoughtful and sweet and you look so sexy” You put your hands on his chest and glided them down over the buttons on his vest, down his stomach and his belt and placed them square on either side of the bulge in his pants only lightly tapping your fingers on the outline of his cock when the waiter came waltzing back in the room with two glasses of champagne in fancy gold flutes. Dieter stared into your eyes black pupils that looked hungrily at you, down to your lips and back to your eyes again and he grabbed your hands in his and kissed them with the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. You turned to the waiter and each grabbed a flute and thanked him. He went away again to presumably settle the bill so you could be back on your way. You turned back to Dieter who still held both your hands in his massive one and swiped your thumb on his bottom lip which he grabbed and sucked on for only a second the pupils still blown black with lust. He took a sip of champagne and moved your chair close enough to his and guided you to his lap. He went to kiss you and the taste was sweet and buzzy the champagne and cookie mousse dessert intermingling with Dieter’s weed from earlier gave an interesting taste to his kiss bit you couldn’t care less. He let go of your hand and wound his hands in your curls savoring every kiss like it was his last, the headiness and the champagne made you feel like floating but you were grounded as if his lips and hands would never let go of you. When you finally took enough of a break for air you finished your champagne and his hand playfully grabbed your ass as you got up to join Sophia for the remainder of your tour. You rode more rides saw a parade, got a balloon and ended your tour at your hands down favorite ride Haunted Mansion.

You squealed with delight as you walked through the VIP line and noticed no one else was coming with you, “Why isn’t anyone else going on the ride” “One last surprise for you, I rented the ride out for our last hour of the tour so we have it all you ourselves” Dieter exclaimed You threw your arms around him face nuzzled into his neck and kissed him there “This is the craziest surprise ever, thank you love” You two walked hand and hand to the entrance where you bid Sophia goodbye and thanked her for being an amazing tour guide. The entrance was closed off and you began the pre show queue laughing to yourselves on how silly it was after all these years. You went down and entered your doom buggy, a large black vehicle and began your journey on the ride. After the third or fourth trip around you were quoting stuff to each other finding little details and sitting on top of one another practically. On the 5th time around you were making your way up the hill to enter the beginning of the ride when it lurched to a stop. Wondering of there was a malfunction you waited about 5 minutes when a voice came over the speakers ``Don't worry there's a small glitch in the track programming but we’ll get you going again shortly” Sitting in almost complete darkness except for the blue, purple and silver ride lights you peered down to watch the ballroom scene partners dancing their ghostly forms captivating you. You enjoyed the fact that the ac was working and that you were cool. Lost in your thoughts and watching the forms dance you felt large hands and long,strong arms wrap around you and pull you close. Lips found yours and the kissing began again, the pool of desire blossoming in your lacy panties, your hands finding their way through messy hair fingertips scratching the nape of his curls spurring him to kiss you harder and hold you tighter. The leather fingerless gloves making their way to cup you under your dress starting to pull off the petticoat underneath. You shift yourself enough to get the petticoat off and thrown to the side of the ride track. His fingers continue to creep upwards and you can see a surprised look when Dieter realizes he's touching bare skin, the wet fold of your sex already dripping.

He moves you onto his lap and you bookend his crotch and fingers with your thighs. One large finger at first teases you and his thumb makes steady pressure on your clit, another massive digit enters while his other arm holds you firmly in place. You rock back and forth unbuttoning his vest and throwing to the side of your vehicle and slowly unbutton the white henley more lips kissing down his neck and his collarbone and what you can reach of his chest, strong and golden and warmed by the sun earlier and your body heat now. He puts a third finger inside you and you buck your hips, moan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Illuminated only by shadows and very little lighting you see that little smirk from earlier has grown into a full shit eating grin now as if it was the Cheshire Cat you were facing. His fingers deftly work inside you, scissoring and moving with deliberate urge as he stretches you and gets you wetter by the minute. In a brazen move he puts his last finger inside you and you mewl fisting his shirt and you buck and ride his fingers with ferocity. “ That my good girl, my dirty princess, taking all my fingers inside you all the way up to the leather knuckles of his glove, his cock twitching and growing harder underneath you as you are soaking his jeans with your slick. You hold his shirt in your fists and kiss him passionately working hard to move your dress up enough to undo his belt and button on his jeans, unzipping and moving just enough so he can slide them down and you notice he's commando. You take your fingers and slide it under your dress collecting some of your wetness and wrap your hand around his thick massive shaft and start pumping and making sure he's as hard as he can be. You scoot to the side so you can bend down and take his head in your mouth, rolling the foreskin back and licking it as you do as well as scooping up the salty drips of silver precum leaking out of the slit. You tongue his head and hear him moan and push his fingers in your deeper as you continue to blow your boyfriend on a Disney ride like it was an everyday occurrence. After a few more licks and pumps Dieter can’t take it anymore and gets you in position on top of him. “This pussy is mine, get ready for the ride of your life baby” voice dropping to that low octave bedroom voice he does on the tv show he’s on.

You situate yourself and slide down his length slowly letting each inch by massive inch fill and stretch you, the slight sting making you even hornier as it drives you wild knowing he's all yours and this massive thick cock comes for you and you alone. Once you're fully engorged by him you start rocking your hips and he meets your rhythm at a steady pace of thrusts and each one feels deeper than the last, he fills and hits spots that make you see little stars each and every time. Without missing a beat he flips you onto the seat of the ride and stands behind you cock never leaving your entrance and pushes you down holding you to the seat bench with one hand the other alternates between pulling your hair to arch you even more open for him and smacking you on the ass with his hand or his belt making you scream and squirm and ask him for more. Dieter, always willing to oblige such requests, gives you exactly what you want unzipping your dress to mark you up your spine and your neck with his mouth little red marks you feel forming his hands undoubtedly will leave bruises in the same spot on your hips they always do, the slight pain becoming a badge of honor. He takes his belt and ties your wrists behind your back all while fucking into you at a hedonistic pace the thrusts making a sloppy wet sound that echoes in your buggy, his balls slapping against your ass along with his hand every once in a while just because he likes and knows what limits he can bring you too. His thrusts become harder and you know any moment now you are gonna explode the music from the ballroom dance scene below you coming to its crescendo as are you and as drums and violins hit their high notes you are exploding onto his dick fireworks are going off internally as he grabs you up by his belt and fucking gives you one of the most mind blowing knee buckling orgasms of your life and as you are trying to regain composure you feel a hot mouth near your ear face buried in your hair ready to explode as his breathing gets ragged and wth a few more deep cervix kissing thrusts your insides are being painted in white hot ropes of his cum his moans in your ear make your clit throb and he steadies himself by enveloping your breasts in his massive hands massaging them as he floats off his high and slumps onto the seat bench next to you. He takes his belt off your wrists and kisses them as you wiggle and stretch them, smoothing out your dress and hair. Lights begin to flicker back on as he’s pulling on his jeans and buttoning them and quickly grabbing the petticoat off the tracks. “ So so so sorry about that inconvenience we got the track working again so we will extend the private ride time for you. You giggle to each other as the ride starts up again and you leave your dancing ghost friends behind for the time being. You sit next to Dieter for the next 30 minutes or so coming off both your highs, fixing yourselves before the last ride loop and sweetly kiss each other the whole last go around. Steadying yourself Dieter exits the ride first and helps you off and onto the moving walkway. You throw the petticoat in the garbage and walk out of the ride into the perfect golden hour, perfect time for a Mickey pretzel and the perfect photos. As you walk to explore more of the park you think which ride you want to conquer next and think of something slow and easy, maybe like small world…

As always thank you to my magical sluts.... love yall @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @imalrightllama @redhotkitchen @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207

#juice collective #dieter x reader #disney land #if you're hot you're freaky and if you're freaky you're hot

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milarqui · 1 year ago

Text

Scarlet Lady: Despair Bear

Directory | Princess Fragrance

It had been a few days since Marinette had her epiphany, and today was her day with their teacher.

“Master Fu, have you talked about Chat Noir about reclaiming the Earrings?”

“Yes,” the old master replied. “What spurred this on?”

As the two talked, she felt Pollen doing something to her hair, but she let her do: the little Kwami was likely showing off for Wayzz.

“I've always known Scarlet Lady to be inept and lazy, but... seeing Tikki so sick, knowing Scarlet Lady let her get like that, allowing her to be stolen in that condition... she never should've been allowed to keep the Earrings in the first place!”

“Ugh!” Master Fu muttered, feeling the jab to his ego, but didn't let that affect him too much as he stood up. “As I'm sure Chat Noir told you before, Scarlet Lady has the public's favor.”

“He did mention that...” Marinette admitted.

“It's that favor that allows you to fight Akumas unrestrained,” he explained. “It will do your cause no good if people see their beloved heroes infighting.”

“And Scarlet Lady only comes out for publicity... no chance to strike privately.” Marinette grolwed at the thought.

“Also, the Ladybug is necessary to fight Akumas,” Master Fu said, sitting down again.

“Hmm...”

“You'll need to have a ready replacement when that time comes.”

“Did Chat Noir have any ideas?” she asked, curious.

“Uhhh...”

----

Of course, Marinette couldn't have known what Chat Noir said in his previous visit when asked the same question.

“Marinette, obviously Marinette.”

----

The next day was a normal day, with classes and teachers and hopefully no Akumas, but there was also something the teachers had agreed with, which was....

“Look at that emulsion!” Tom Dupain exclaimed as he showed the students the contents of his bowl.

“Wow!” Alix said.

“Oo...” Adrien was fascinated.

“I love baking class!” Nino said.

… that.

“Oh please,” Chloé started in her best 'let's complain about everything' tone. “You expect me to soil my brand new pants to cook?!”

“Chloé, shh!” Sabrina muttered.

“Hellooo? I'm complaining over here!” Chloé replied, once again blind to anything that wasn't her opinion.

“No one cares!”

Chloé moved to a side and pulled out her phone.

“Oh, I'll make you care,” she muttered with a smirk as she called a number, unaware of Marinette watching her do so.

Marinette's musing was interrupted when her father gently pushed the bowl he had been using towards her.

“Marinette, can you put this in the cafeteria fridge, please?”

“Oui, Papa!” she exclaimed, picking it up and making her way out of the class -

RIIIIIIING!

Marinette jumped in shock, and just about didn't drop the bowl.

“Wha–?!”

“The fire alarm?!”

The door opened behind Marinette as her classmates started to walk out.

“Everyone out calmly, single file,” Mme. Bustier said.

And, as Chloé passed Marinette...

“Heh,” the Mayor's daughter let out.

Marinette could immediately tell that Chloé had had something to do with this. It wasn't like she was pretending otherwise!

“... what are you smirking at?” she asked.

----

The entire school had gathered near the entrance, and for once the principal actually looked the position, as noted by his fuming face.

“So apparently one of you thought it'd be funny to prank call the fire department and waste the fire captain's time?!”

“M. Principal~!” the world's eyesore exclaimed from behind Marinette. “I saw a student leave the classroom right before the alarm went off! It was obviously her!”

“Oh? And who was that?”

“Let's see if she'll confess, ey, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette felt her eye twitch, as she repressed the desire to just throttle Chloé – just as her friends began to shout.

“Sir, Marinette didn't have her phone on her!” Alya exclaimed.

“And she wouldn't interrupt her dad's workshop!” Adrien added.

Meanwhile, she contented herself with glaring down at the person she hated the most in the world (along with Hawkmoth and Scarlet Lady, of course).

“Oh you wanna go, huh?” she muttered, eager to crush her in some way.

Then she remembered something else.

“Well, Chloé, I'd like to know who you were calling in the middle of class.”

“Huh?!”

Hah, she didn't even realize I saw her.

“Mlle. Bourgeois made a phone call?” the principal asked. Chloé turned her back on the rest of the crowd.

“M. Damocles, this is an obvious deflection! I refuse to be interrogated!”

Pretty much everyone else knew that this was as good as a confession from the girl... but M. Damocles had other ideas.

“Since no one is confessing, the entire school will be punished.”

“Awww!” everyone simultaneously groaned.

And then Chloé pulled out her cellphone, showing the contact information of her father.

“A–hem!”

“Except Mlle. Bourgeois of course!” M. Damocles instantly added, folding like a piece of smoking paper.

“OH C'MON!” everyone yelled in irritation.

----

As everybody was forced to work in cleaning up the school as punishment for something they didn't do, Adrien was let go of his part, and he decided it was high time to have a serious discussion with his oldest friend.

As it was, he quickly found her sitting on a bench, as if lording her status over the masses, while checking her phone.

“It's good to be queen,” he heard her mutter, and he decided to make his presence known.

“Chloé.” He was trying to contain his anger with her, but a bit still escaped.

Then she glomped him, once more ignoring his personal space.

“Adrichéri!” she shouted.

“Ack!” he let out as he tried to fight off the pain in his ears and push her off him, before he brought up the reason he had come here. “Chloé, did you really call the fire department just to get out of M. Dupain's baking class?!”

“Sure did!” she replied.

She wasn't even ashamed.

In fact, she sounded like she was bragging.

“CHLOÉ!”

He had seen her do a lot of things, and he had tried to make her fix them or something, but she never did. And his patience had worn thin over time.

Today she had dropped one last straw, and she had broken the camel's back.

Sabrina had done this already. He could do it as well.

He sat at the bench, and Chloé quickly followed. She clearly thought she was going to get something out of this.

How wrong she was.

“You know, Chloé, being at school has taught me a lot about what a good friend is,” he began.

“A-huh?”

She hadn't realized what was coming.

He looked away, and thought of the people he had befriended since he came to school.

Myléne. Ivan. Rose. Juleka. Max. Kim. Alix. Nathaniel.

And, of course... Alya, always full of energy. Nino, who had become his brother in all but blood. And... Marinette (whom he hoped would eventually become more, but that was for the future).

He had made so many friends...

“You watch out for each other, consider each other's feelings, and make each other feel good when you're together!”

“Okaaaay?”

… and he had realized what had been missing with Chloé, as he turned to glare at her.

“Thing is, you don't do any of those things! You do the opposite of those things! And I can't be friends with someone who treats people like you do!”

“Wuh–?!”

She was finally realizing it.

It was time to cut.

“We're done, Chloé! We're not friends anymore!”

Her devastated face hurt, he had to admit it.

But, as he left her behind, as he walked away from the bench to return to his real friends... he felt as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders.

----

He had seen Mademoiselle crying many times during his long time in service for the Bourgeois family (mostly when she wanted something and he could not get it immediately), but he could not remember a time where her crying was so intense that the tears were gushing out like a fountain.

“Mademoiselle seems sad,” he gently pointed out.

“Adrien! Says! He won't be my friend anymore! Because of one! Little! Time! I prank called the fire department!” Mademoiselle said between sobs.

“Oof,” he replied in sympathy, although he suspected there was more to this tale than what Mademoiselle shared. In order to tranquilize her, he decided to bring out the one thing that always worked, picking up her old teddy bear. “Maybe Mademoiselle will find comfort in Mr. Cuddly.”

“Oh!”

Well, it did seem to work. At least she was crying no longer.

“When Mademoiselle was a little girl, Mr. Cuddly was always nice to her,” he reminded, offering the bear to her.

“Nice... that's it!” Mademoiselle's face changed, and now she looked eager for something. “Jean-Luc, if I show Adrien I'm nice, he'll have to take me back!”

He blinked. He didn't know how both things were related, but there was little he could do now save for playing along (ignoring that she never remembered his real name was Armand was something he already did on a daily basis).

“Uh, sure.”

He just hoped this plan wouldn't eat too much into his other duties...

----

“How's the fit?” Marinette asked as Rose tried the skirt she had made for her.

“Perfect!” Rose replied, just as euphoric as ever, as Alya took photos.

“This'll look great on your blog–”

DING!

Everyone's cellphones rang at the same time, and they quickly checked over to see something none of them would have ever expected.

“What the–”

“Did Chloé just invite me to a party?” Mylène said.

“Me too. Maybe someone hacked her phone?” Juleka suggested.

“Wanna go?” Alya suggested, and Marinette looked at her best friend as if she had grown a second head.

“Seriously? It's Chloé!”

“Exactly,” Lila replied, leaning back on Marinette's bed. “Let's eat her food, trash her hotel, and leave her with the bill. It'll be fuuuun.”

“Uhh,” Marinette said, trying to process that. “Remind me not to invite you to any house parties.”

----

Adrien had invited Nino to his house before they got Chloé's invitation. Since Nino had admitted that he wasn't sure if he had the clothes for a party like that, Adrien had decided to open his (large) wardrobe and share the goods.

That was when Adrien's father entered the scene.

“Adrien, what are you doing?” he asked, curious.

“Père! Chloé invited everyone to a party.”

“For some reason,” Nino deadpanned.

“Chloé Bourgeois?” Gabriel tried to confirm.

“Yeah. We're looking for something appropriate to wear,” Adrien admitted, and Gabriel nodded.

“Very good. Let your driver know when to pick you up.”

“Yes sir!” Adrien replied as Gabriel walked away.

“Wow, he's letting you go?” Nino asked as he picked up a white vest from the pile. “Can I borrow this?”

“It's Chloé, he'd probably make me go,” Adrien said, dismissively. “Go ahead!”

----

Within the dark recesses of Gabriel Agreste's mind, a different option for his actions arose.

A party organized by the most despicable girl in Paris is a breeding ground for Akumas! BWAHAHA!

Father of the year, everyone.

----

Marinette had invited Alya to get ready for the party along with her, because that way they'd be able to help each other, and meanwhile Marinette would be able to make the last adjustments to her dress.

Then the bell rang, and both girls walked down to the entrance, where they found their boys waiting for them.

“Thanks for picking us up!” Marinette said as Alya said goodbye to M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng.

“No problem!” Adrien replied, and as he took on Marinette, he began to blush. “You look great! Did you make your dress yourself?”

“A-heh-heh, yeah!” Marinette giggled, also blushing.

“Wow!”

Seriously, those two dorks made her want to push them into a closet and lock the door until they finally got together.

But, also...

“Man,” she complained. “Must be nice getting so many compliments, ey my boyfriend, Nino–”

Then she turned around, and learned the meaning behind the saying 'be careful what you wish for'.

Because Nino was there, laying on the ground, shaking as if he was suffering convulsions... and writing 'DEAD BY BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND' on the dirt.

“Oh Lord,” she said, covering her burning cheeks.

----

Mademoiselle's guests were arriving to the hotel, and she was watching from up above as they gathered.

“Huh, they don't look totally homeless,” she declared, and he decided he had to do something to help her understand what to do.

“Mademoiselle,” he said, bringing the teddy bear with him, “Mr. Cuddly would greet his guests with a kiss on the cheek.”

“You're kidding, Jean-Michel!” Mademoiselle exclaimed. “You expect me to let these peasants touch their cheeks to mine when Adrien's not even here to see it?!”

He was starting to feel less enthused about Mademoiselle's plan, but he could still work with it.

“But M. Adrien is here to see,” he replied, pointing out the young man that had been a guest here for many years.

“Adrihoney!” Mademoiselle said, running down the stairs to meet the young man.

He worked with the tools he had, not the ones he wanted.

----

The sensation of impending doom Marinette was feeling became first realized when Chloé tackled Adrien from behind in a hug.

“Adrihoney! What do you think of my party?” she asked, while Adrien looked like all he wanted to do was to shake off some kind of parasite. “Nice of me huh?”

“Uhhh...” Adrien clearly didn't know how to take that comment (and, to be honest, she didn't, either).

“Chloé!” Rose called out, and very reluctantly she began to greet everyone...

“Salut!”

… by kissing them on the cheek?

“Hey!” Kim said.

“Thanks for the invitation!” Max replied as Chloé kissed him in the cheek.

“Eheheh. Sure.”

Then she turned towards Marinette and...

“Well, get it over with, Dupain-Cheng!”

Oh, god, she wants me to kiss her cheek?

“Why am I being punished?” she asked out loud.

----

Mademoiselle walked up to him, once again angry about something, and he braved himself for a new demand.

“Uh, Jean-Pascal, why isn't Adrien falling over himself to be my friend again? When I'm being so nice?!”

Choosing not to inform her that it would require more to prove so, he hoped she would learn to actually be the good person she could be.

“If I may, perhaps Mademoiselle could show her good will by making sure her guests are enjoying themselves?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

----

It was when they were talking about ideas on the future of their group that the strangest thing happened.

“What do you think about–?” Ivan was asking, but then Luka interrupted him.

“Whoa, Mylène, you okay?”

Mylène looked like she barely even knew what was going on.

“Chloé told me my dress belongs in the trash,” she said, much to the boys' disgust.

“Ugh.”

“Typical.”

“Then she said she was kidding and loved my style.”

“Uhh–”

“What?”

“Then she dumped a bucket of ice on my drink and I just really don't know how to feel right now.”

…

Alright, that was weird even by Chloé standards.

----

There were yet guests to arrive, and two of them were two beautiful ladies wearing very elegant dresses.

“Whoa...” some of the boys (and girls) said at the sight of Kagami Tsurugi dressed as if she were going to the opera.

“Hi Kim!” Kagami's companion, Ondine, told her boyfriend before rushing to claim a kiss.

“Didn't the invite say semi-formal...?” Lila asked a smirking Alix.

Someone who did not take it well was the usual suspect.

“Jean-Marc, she's–”

“Deserving of a compliment, non?” the butler gently interrupted. “It's what Mr. Cuddly would do.”

“Ack! Fine!” Then she shoved down the teddy bear. “But put that away!”

----

Mireille immediately noticed the moment Aurore noticed the arrival of the Asian girl. She knew of her inclinations, but, good Lord, this was pure anime-like behavior. Aurore's jaw had dropped, her face was heavily blushing, and her eyes were this close to become little hearts.

She rolled her eyes and snapped her mouth close.

“Don't let her catch you drooling, Aurore,” she told her infatuated friend.

----

Suddenly, the music switched. Those who had come here in pairs joined hands and began to sway to the rhythm marked by the notes.

“Oh, a slow song. I need a partner,” Chloé decided.

And thus began Chloé's Quest To Find A Dance Partner!

Attempt 1: Luka Couffaine.

He was playing videogames with Max when Chloé approached.

“Mon Chouka~ wanna dance?” she asked.

“NO,” he replied, in a tone that implied he'd rather eat crystal.

Attempt 1: FAIL.

Alright, that was a bust.

Attempt 2: Lê Chiến Kim.

“Well, I guess I'll dance with you, Kim,” she said, only to get bumped on by Kim – who was dancing with Ondine and, thus, barely paying attention.

“Whoops! 'Scuz us!”

Attempt 2: FAIL.

Attempt 3: Nathaniel Kurtzberg.

“YOU THEN!” she angrily shouted as she slammed her hands on a table, right behind the artist.

“WAH!” Nathaniel shouted... and began to desperately look around for a way out of this. He grabbed the hand of the person that was closest to him. “MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?!”

“Hey!” Chloé complained at being ignored.

Nobody cared.

“Huh?!” the person Nathaniel had grabbed said before they were into his embrace.

Attempt 3: FAIL.

----

“Sorry about that,” Nathaniel apologized as they swayed to the music, his eyes closed. “I was trying to escape Chloé.”

“I–It's okay,” his partner replied, and he opened his eyes. “Chloé scares me too.”

Nathaniel began to blush as he took in his improvised dance partner.

Wait, isn't this person way too cute?!

----

Attempt 4:

“Fine,” Chloé mumbled as he shoved someone aside, “who needs them when I have–”

Adrien Agreste.

Who was currently taking Marinette Dupain-Cheng's hand into his as they prepared to dance.

“ADRIEN?!” Chloé screamed, incredulous. “What's the point of being nice if he dances with Dupain-Cheng?!”

Attempt 4: EPIC FAIL.

She furiously made her way through the dancing teenagers, intent on giving her rival a piece of her mind, when her loyal butler stepped in between the couple and her.

“Mademoiselle, please consider–”

This time, however, Chloé wasn't keen on listening to anyone.

“Move, Jean-Jacques!”

----

Oblivious to the drama that was taking place behind him, Adrien basked in the feeling of holding Marinette in his arms.

“This party's pretty fun, isn't it?” he asked as they passed by Nino and Alya.

“Yeah, but what brought this on?” Marinette asked, and he gave a tight grin.

“I think it might have to do with me ending mine and Chloé's friendship,” he admitted, causing Marinette's jaw to drop in shock.

“You did?!” she asked, feeling her heart beat a bit faster for the boy in front of her. “I–I can't believe you did that!”

“Well, I can't support what she did.”

“You think she's trying to win you back?”

Adrien put an ugly face at the thought of it.

“Well, she's not making up for pulling the fire alarm,” he stated, and she smiled while leaning into him and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“HAHA!” she laughed, dizzy with the feeling he had given her.

----

“I've had enough of your stupid bear, your stupid party, and your stupid name, Jean-whatever-it-is!” Chloé shouted, with her usual lack of self-awareness and inability to accept the blame for things she did.

“The party was Mademoiselle's idea–” Armand tried to say, but Chloé, as usual, was not in the mood to listen.

“There is no 'mademoiselle'! There is no nothing! You're! FIRED! Get OUT!”

----

“I knew you wouldn't let me down, Chloé,” Hawkmoth said. If she weren't so insufferable, he might have been tempted to take her in as a minion. “Good evening, Despair Bear.”

It was time to awaken today's Akuma.

----

With the butler out of the way, Chloé walked up to her original target, ready to unleash her rage.

“And you two!”

But she was interrupted when a hand grasped her shoulder.

“Chloé,” Sabrina said, and Chloé turned around – only to see Sabrina with some rather unnatural green eyes, holding a brush.

“What do you want?” Chloé asked, either unaware or uncaring.

“Let me brush your hair, Chloé. I promise it won't hurt.”

As Sabrina attempted to brush Chloé's hair, she finally had an inkling that something was seriously wrong, and grabbed Sabrina's wrists.

“Get off me, psycho! Don't come any closer!”

And those watching realized there was a teddy bear holding onto Sabrina's leg, with eyes just as unnaturally green as those of Sabrina.

Creeper bear! Adrien and Marinette thought, before deciding to move in order to transform and deal with the Akuma.

“Err, scuz me, I think I drank too much orange juice,” Marinette said.

“Right! And I, uh, am gonna call my driver! See ya!”

Thinking they had perfectly fooled each other (and not thinking about how lame each other's excuse was) Adrien and Marinette sought the closest empty place and became their Miraculous selves.

----

“Stop! You'll mess up my hair!” Chloé shouted, and a top with a rope suddenly found its way around her, pulling her out of the controlled Sabrina's grasp.

“Get out of here, Chloé!” Marigold shouted, sending the girl spinning towards the open elevator.

“AAAAAAH!” Chloé shouted as she spun without control.

“This is an official Akuma alert!” Chat Noir shouted, and all those present quickly moved out of the way to let them work without obstacles.

----

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Chloé dropped to her knees, dizzy from spinning.

“Now my sidekicks are party crashing?!” she complained, ever the grateful, as an also dizzy Tikki flew out of her bag.

“Ugh,” the Kwami complained.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Lack of awareness was strong in her.

She stood up and moved her hair out of the way.

“I'll handle this! Tikki, Spots On!”

“HRK!” Tikki grumbled as Chloé transformed.

----

As Marigold and Chat Noir did their best to hold off the Akuma – who was much smaller than the usual and was using other people as puppets – Scarlet Lady arrived into the scene.

“Fear not, everyone, the Hero of Paris is here!”

“Scarlet Lady!”

“Scar!” Chat Noir shouted. “Did you pass Chloé?!”

“Obviously, I got her to safety!” Scarlet Lady crowed.

“Really?” Marigold asked, doubting her word.

“After all, she and I are best friends!”

Immediately, everyone else in the room began to chatter.

“Wait, for real?”

“Is she serious?”

“Best friends with Chloé?”

Unfortunately for Scarlet Lady, what she thought was something that would bring her fame instead became a petard exploding right off her hands.

“Best friends with Chloé,” everyone thought with a sick feeling in their gut at the mere idea.

----

As Chat Noir and Marigold corralled the Akumatized bear, it jumped off from Sabrina's leg and grabbed Max's leg.

“What do you say to a game of flying chairs?!” the controlled Max said, holding a chair above his head.

“Stop him, sidekicks!” Scarlet Lady demanded.

“Ugh,” Marigold growled.

The bear then jumped off Max and onto Ivan, who grabbed a table and seemed ready to throw it.

“AARGH!” the controlled Ivan roared.

“Protect me, sidekicks!” Scarlet Lady demanded again.

“Shut up, Scar!” Chat Noir shouted at her, angry with her complete lack of collaboration. Not that it was the first time, but it was still irritating.

And then the bear let Ivan go and–

“Give me your Miraculouses, sidekicks!” Scarlet Lady – her eyes unnaturally green – demanded, her hand extended as if they would fall for it.

“SERIOUSLY?!” both heroes yelled as their partner-slash-millstone got caught by the Akuma's power.

“Bad kitty! Bad bug!” Scarlet Lady admonished as she jumped after Marigold and Chat Noir, who were now retreating away from the crowd.

“Yikes!” Marigold shouted, dodging a poorly-aimed yo-yo throw.

“Uh, is Scarlet Lady always like this?” someone in the crowd asked, while Alya and Rose looked on, perturbed.

When the heroes – and the brainwashed 'hero' – reached the pool, the Akuma decided to see what Scarlet Lady could create to gain victory.

But the result was clearly not what it expected.

“A fork? What even is the Ladybug's power?” she asked, unaware of the closing hand.

“MINE!” Marigold shouted, grabbing the fork and snagging it into a loose thread on the teddy bear's body.

“Hey! Give that back!” the controlled Ladybug heroine asked on behalf of the Akuma, but Marigold wasn't going to obey.

Instead, she threw the fork at one of the sunshades that were still open now, to hook it around one of the rods.

“Wha–!” the Akuma said through Scarlet Lady's voice.

“If you don't mind, Chaton.”

“As you wish, Your Highness!”

And Chat Noir began to spin the sunshade.

And the threads that made the teddy bear began to unravel.

“NOOOO! BAD KITTY! BAD BUG! AHHH!”

But it was too late. The teddy bear was undone, and Scarlet Lady woke up from possession as the Earrings began to beep.

“What the heck– When'd we get by the pool?!” a confused Scarlet Lady asked, while Chat Noir knelt and grabbed the tiny form of the Akumatized butler.

“Don't sweat it, we took care of things,” Chat Noir replied. “As per usual.”

----

“Begging your pardon,” the butler said, confused, after he was finally freed from the yoke of the Akuma, “but, what happened?”

“You became bad but I saved you–” Scar said, but as her earrings beeped once more, Marigold slapped her on the shoulder.

“That's enough of your lies. Your timer,” Marigold interrupted her, pushing the blonde 'hero' away, leaving Chat Noir alone with the butler.

“I only wished to help Mademoiselle salvage her friendship, yet she fired me,” Armand said, downcast.

“Aw, don't worry so much,” Chat Noir tried to cheer him up. “Knowing Chloé, she'll have forgotten she fired you by tomorrow.”

“But–”

“Jean-Baptiste! Get down here and save my party!” Chloé yelled.

“Oh!” Armand said.

“Or she'll forget right now,” Chat Noir corrected himself, rolling his eyes.

----

After Armand left to see what had to be done in the party, Chat Noir found a solitary place and changed back into Adrien, ready to see what had been of the party (and see if he could find Marinette).

“Wow, everyone's still here–”

“Adridarling!”

“Gah!” he yelled, shocked after Chloé snuck up on him.

“Did you see? I totally helped Scarlet Lady get to the Akuma. Aren't I so nice?”

Adrien looked down on her as she (once again) ignored the concept of 'personal space' to cuddle up to him.

“Don't you want to forget our little fight? Don't you just want to be friends forever and forgive me for everything?”

Yes, his thoughts on the goal of this party were correct.

And he had the perfect answer for this question Chloé had made.

“No?”

Chloé's simpering face suddenly twisted in rage.

“WHAT?!”

He walked off. He had nothing else to say to her.

----

Before everyone could get back to the party, they were told it was canceled.

Marinette managed to return from the place she had chosen to change back, and met Alya, who was in the middle of a crowd of murmuring people.

“Alya, is everything okay?” she asked, noticing the downcast faces. “Everyone's acting off.”

Alya turned to look at her.

“Girl, didn't you see–!” Alya exclaimed, but stopped herself short. “Nevermind. I just... have some things to work out.”

“Okay...” Marinette replied, confused, as she followed the crowd.

----

It had taken a while, but he managed to find her.

“Marinette! There you are!” he said.

“Hey! Do you know why everyone's so down?” she asked. He noticed that she was shaking, and he felt that the air had turned cooler as the sun went down.

“No idea,” he replied, starting to take off his jacket. “Maybe because the party ended early? I know I was pretty disappointed when your dad's lesson ended early. Here.”

And he put his jacket around Marinette's shoulders.

“I was looking forward to making macarons.”

“Thanks,” Marinette said, putting the jacket on. “You could always come to the bakery for a lesson. Papa's always willing to teach!”

“Really?!” That would be awesome, learning one on one with M. Dupain!

“Sure! And I can bring some tomorrow for the class!”

“Score!”

----

That night, thankful that Mademoiselle had, indeed, forgotten that she had fired him, he checked on the lady.

“Look, Jean-Deer, Adrien is obviously just being dramatic with this whole 'not being my friend' thing! And since I'm so nice I'm willing to forgive him for teasing me like this,” she declared.

Yes... he's the dramatic one, he thought, feeling awkward at the mental gymnastics Mademoiselle was doing.

----

Sapotis

@zoe-oneesama Our two beloved dorks dorking around each other while the alpha bitch bitches around on her lonesome.

#scarlet lady #fanfiction #milarqui #long post #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #marigold #adrienette #scarlet lady is better than canon #despair bear

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 years ago

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So like, the paperwork thing is silly. Again:They could have come up with any plot, there have been WORSE things they've done! But like, when people got their schedules back and it was all wrong for an entire class? Admin would fix that. It's kind of a no-brainer. It's a prank that gets more paperwork done and maybe someone is a little stressed until it is sorted, but it's the kind of thing that isn't going to actually come to fruition.

Hell,no school in the us would allow a student to handle another student's course selection paperwork. You'd have a chain of custody from student->Staff for obvious reasons.

It's just lazy once again, which makes it so very zzz.z.zz..

Lazy is fine when it's episodic and light, but when you want it to be serious, put in effort.

Yeah the way they get the paperwork doesn't make any fucking sense either?

Everyone fills out their paperwork then hands it to the class president. The class president keeps it overnight for some reason. And then goes in to hand it to the teacher/principal the next day?

Why aren't they just handing the paperwork to Bustier?

Like it'd make sense if the trio stole the paperwork from Bustier's desk and replaced it with pre-made forged copies.

#ml leaks

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akishyff · 4 months ago

Text

Miraculous: Tales of Heroics (The Class) (BNHA AU)

Heroics Training Class Alpha (Collège Françoise Dupont)

Teacher: Caline Bustier

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 36

Registered Relatives: Giséle Rosier (Wife, Quirk: N/A), Harmonie Rosier (Daughter, Quirk: YTBD)

Hero Name: The Loving Hero, Heartner

Hero Ranking: No. 73

Quirk: Air Kiss

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can project heart-shaped projectiles using a ‘blown kiss’ gesture. Upon making contact with a living being, the projectile will induce a feeling of ‘lazy happiness’, rendering the target docile.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 15

Registered Relatives: Tom Dupain (Father, Quirk: Green Thumb), Sabine Cheng (Mother, Quirk: Gust), Rolland Dupain (Grandfather, Quirk: Hand Warmer), Gina Dupain (Grandmother, Quirk: Ripen), Wang Cheng (Quirk: N/A)

Hero Name: The Creative Hero, Ladybug

Quirk: Lucky Charm, Loveliness

Classification: E-Type Emitter (both)

Recorded Capabilities: Can conjure somewhat-random objects, large enough to hold in a single hand, but can direct the generation towards the object serving a specific purpose- ie, ‘a weapon’, ‘something to turn off the lights with’, etc. With the enhancement offered by Loveliness, can generate much larger objects, and can repair perceived damages to non-conjured objects. Conjured objects are normally red in colour, gaining patterns of black spots upon receiving Loveliness, and similar colouration and patterning are present on Loveliness-derived ‘repairs’.

NOTE: Due to lack of similarity between genetic Quirk heritage and subject’s birth Quirk, it has been designated a Class-A Anomaly.

Adrien Agreste

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Gabriel Agreste (Father, Quirk: N/A), Emilie Agreste (Mother, Quirk: Energy Well), Amelie Graham de Vanily (Aunt, Quirk: Battery), Félix Graham de Vanily (Quirk: Energy Manipulation)

Hero Name: The Destructive Hero, Chat Noir

Quirk: Cataclysm

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Constantly generates/maintains a buildup of energy in his right hand. Can release this energy into anything he touches with this hand, causing it to crumble to ashes at maximum strength. A five-minute recharge period is required to release maximum power.

Alya Cesaire

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Marlena Cesaire (Mother, Quirk: Static Electricity), Otis Cesaire (Father, Quirk: Animorph), Nora Cesaire (Sister, Quirk: Spider), Ella Cesaire (Sister, Quirk: YTBD), Etta Cesaire (Sister, Quirk: YTBD)

Hero Name: The Connected Hero, Lady Wi-Fi

Quirk: Transmission

Classification: A-Type Transformative

Recorded Capabilities: Can take on a form made of purple electricity, possessing enhanced speed and other associated abilities. When in this form, can shapeshift with relative freedom, and can enter and ‘possess’ electronic devices.

Nino Lahiffe

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Jasmine Lahiffe (Mother, Quirk: Soap Generation), Noelle Lahiffe (Mother, Quirk: Snowdrift), Chris Lahiffe (Brother, Quirk: Snowdrift)

Hero Name: The Foam Hero, Bubbler

Quirk: Bubbles

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can generate bubbles, with a variety of effects (explosive, capture, slippery, etc) and can manipulate the durability of those bubbles.

Chloé Bourgeois

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: André Bourgeois (Father, Quirk: Wasp), Audrey Bourgeois (Mother, Quirk: Golden Touch), Zoé Lee (Half-sister, Quirk: Radiance)

Hero Name: The Regal Hero, Queen Bee

Quirk: Yellowjacket

Classification: M-Type Mutation

Recorded Capabilities: Has features derived from a yellowjacket, such as wings and retractable stingers in her wrists. Stingers are capable of delivering a paralytic venom that immobilises any living being she stings for a maximum of half an hour with a full-strength dose. When under the effects of Akuma, the resultant enhancement to her mutation allows her to mentally command a swarm of wasps that carry the same paralytic venom.

Juleka Couffaine

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 15

Registered Relatives: Anarka Couffaine (Mother, Quirk: N/A), Luka Couffaine (Brother, Quirk: Rhythm)

Hero Name: The Sonorous Hero, Banshee

Quirk: Outcry

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can unleash a sonic scream of varying levels of strength and volume. When under the effects of Akuma, can produce powerful shockwaves from her hands as well.

Rose Lavillant

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 15

Registered Relatives: Mason Lavillaint (Father, Quirk: Caffeination), Antoine Lavilaint (Father, Quirk: Fog Machine)

Hero Name: The Aromatic Hero, Princess Fragrance

Quirk: Perfume

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can generate clouds of perfume in various colours that have a variety of effects, such as knocking people out, exploding when exposed to a spark, altering the way people smell, causing them to hallucinate, etcetera.

Alix Kubdel

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 15

Registered Relatives: Alim Kubdel (Father, Quirk: Speed-Reader), Talia Kubdel (Mother, Quirk: Contortionist), Jalil Kubdel (Brother, Quirk: Speed-Reader)

Hero Name: The Swift Hero, Ace Blader

Quirk: Lightspeed

Classification: I-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can move at high speeds, with her speed increasing the longer she is in motion. Quirk is consciously activated, which is signified by sparks of blue and white lightning manifesting around the subject’s body.

Lê Chien Kim Ature

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Nazaire Ature (Father, Quirk: Dexterity), Lê Lý (Father, Quirk: Furnace)

Hero Name: The Jubilant Hero, King Monkey

Quirk: Monkey

Classification: L-Type Mutation

Recorded Capabilities: Has features and capabilities associated with various species of monkey, including a long prehensile tail, prehensile feet, enhanced strength, speed, and agility, and unusually sharp teeth. A potential psychological element is suggested in that the subject rather enjoys climbing walls, trees and the like, and has a positive disposition towards bananas, but it is entirely possible that these are simply aspects of the subject’s typical behavior and have nothing to do with his Quirk.

Max Kanté

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Claudie Kanté (Quirk: N/A)

Hero Name: The Rift Hero, Pegasus

Quirk: Portal

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can create portals. Has a range limit yet to be determined due to audible distress from the subject when attempting to test it. Portals function as an ‘open doorway’- they must be walked through, and objects travelling through maintain their velocity. Precise coordinates are necessary for a successful portal creation.

Ivan Bruel

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Jacob Bruel (Father, Quirk: Cooldown), Anita Bruel (Quirk: Speaker System), Melissa Bruel (Quirk: Wall-Crawl)

Hero Name: The Immovable Hero, Minotaur

Quirk: Ox

Classification: M-Type Mutation

Recorded Capabilities: Has features derived from an ox, including large horns, a tail, and fur along his limbs. Possesses superhuman strength, durability, and stamina. When under the effects of Akuma, subject’s strength is increased and his ability to feel pain is lessened, at the cost of enhanced aggression.

Mylene Haprele

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Fred Haprele (Father, Quirk: Mime)

Hero Name: The Small Steps Hero, Petite Souris

Quirk: Sizeshifter

Classification: U-Type Transformative

Recorded Capabilities: The subject can freely alter the size of her body, with her lower limit being approximately an inch tall, and her upper limit being approximately nine metres. Subject demonstrates enhanced strength and durability whenever her Quirk is activated, which proportionately increases with her increase or decrease in height.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 15

Registered Relatives: Danielle Kurtzberg (Mother, Quirk: Projector), Aaron Kurtzberg (Father, Quirk: Colour Change)

Hero Name: The Passionate Hero, Illustrator

Quirk: Sketch

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can pull drawings and artwork that he has created off of the surface he has created them on, and can animate and control them once bringing them into reality. The subject has been able to create objects larger than he originally drew them. When under the effects of Akuma, the subject can directly draw objects into reality without need for a surface to draw them on.

Sabrina Raincomprix

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Roger Raincomprix (Father, Quirk: Armor), Karina Cartier (Mother, Quirk: Magnetism)

Hero Name: The Confiscation Hero, Deputy

Quirk: Pull

Classification: E-Type Emitter

Recorded Capabilities: Can telekinetically pull any object in her line of sight towards her. Cannot halt the force of the pull until the object has reached her, and cannot effectively pull any object anchored into the ground.

Lila Rossi

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Registered Relatives: Amara Rossi (Mother, Quirk: Empath), Priscilla Rossi (Mother, Quirk: Material Absorption), Diana Rossi (Mother, Quirk: N/A)

Hero Name: The Exquisite Hero, Nonpareil

Quirk: Flight Mimicry

Classification: I-Type Emitter U-Type Transformative-Emitter hybrid

Recorded Capabilities: Is capable of controlled levitation at high speeds, possessing an aerodynamic barrier that shields her from heat, cold and impacts, which allows her to wield pseudo super-strength Can copy the Quirk of any person she makes contact with. She can wield this copied Quirk seemingly indefinitely, but can only copy one Quirk at a time. Copies the Quirk Factor at its base level, independent of any training the original user might have carried out. When under the effects of Akuma, she can copy multiple Quirks, but can still only use one at a time.

NOTE: Due to her willingness to harm fellow classmates and her committing of villainous actions of her own free will, Lila Rossi has been expelled.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #bnha au #character profile #bnha quirks #mha quirks #Miraculous: Tales of Pro Heroics

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