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phoenix-downer · 3 months

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Secret Wish Chapter 2

Secret Wish: ~1110 words. Tifa keeps thinking about the nameless soldier who protected her and wonders if he's okay.

Story Info: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart. Set during Crisis Core. Canon Compliant, Alternating POVs, Missing Scenes. Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Tifa’s thoughts were elsewhere as she tossed and turned in bed that night. Fluffy was perched on the windowsill, her red bandana vibrant against her soft white fur, her eyes as big as saucers as she stared out the window and made chattering sounds at whatever creature had caught her fancy.

There was something about the Shinra soldier that wouldn’t leave Tifa’s thoughts. He was just a member of Shinra’s Public Security Forces, going by his uniform. He wasn’t a SOLDIER, 1st Class like Zack was, and yet he’d protected her on Mt. Nibel from that creepy masked giant and his goons.

Why some random infantryman would do that for her, she wasn’t sure. His brave actions had saved her life and had gotten him wounded in the process. Why would he do that for her? They didn’t even know each other.

Something about the way he’d protected her…she couldn’t shake the feeling that…that it reminded her of Cloud’s promise.

No, there was no way. The hunch that had flitted around her mind for a few seconds was gone as soon as it came, banished by how silly it was. She’d meant to ask Zack about whether or not Cloud had made SOLDIER, 1st Class yet, but it had slipped her mind. She could ask him tomorrow.

And the mysterious soldier was just doing his job, right? That shouldn’t come as a surprise. Protecting people was what someone like him was supposed to do. But she also knew that donning a military uniform didn’t automatically make you brave or caring. Zack’s constant, puppy dog-like enthusiasm was a little much for her tastes sometimes, but she could tell he was a decent guy. He cared about the mysterious soldier, even though he far outranked him, and he cared about protecting her, some random villager from a backwater town, that much was clear. He wouldn’t have fought wave after wave of monsters and masked men to get them back to Nibelheim safe and sound if he didn’t.

Some of the other Shinra-affiliated people she and her father had come across…they gave her the heebie-jeebies. They were the opposite of Zack and his nameless companion, who made her feel safe. Protected.

Especially the nameless companion. Zack was SOLDIER, 1st Class, and yet her thoughts kept wandering back to the mysterious infantryman. He hadn’t made a single noise, hadn’t once complained about his injury. The way he’d leaned against her, trusting her completely to help him down the mountain, moved her. And the soft smile on his face after she’d given him water from her canteen…she hadn’t imagined that, right?

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and sighed. It was too late to email Zack now and make sure the mysterious guy was alright. But she couldn’t sleep until she did.

Sighing, she pulled her phone out. “Is that guy alright? I’m a little worried, because it looked like he got hurt pretty bad. I’m glad you were there. Thank you, Zack. I had heard of SOLDIER and how tough they are. I hope we can talk a little bit more about SOLDIER one of these days, because there’s something I want to ask you.”

With that, she pressed “Send,” hoping that Zack had either put his phone on silent or was so tired he would sleep through any notifications. With that, she tried to sleep, a fitful rest marked by strange dreams of Mt. Nibel, of falling, falling, falling, of someone crying out her name…

When she woke the next morning, the sun was streaming through the window, and Fluffy was long gone. The errant cat had probably slunk downstairs the moment she’d heard Tifa’s father stirring to beg for food. Tifa was stiff and sore from yesterday, but not as sore as she would’ve been pre-Master Zangan’s training.

Checking her phone, she saw a little notification message. It was from Zack.

“Hey Tifa! Thanks for checking up on him. He’s doing just fine, and I’ve included a photo as proof. Thank you for helping him get down the mountain. I was just doing my job, but you went above and beyond, and he really appreciates it. And sure, you can ask me questions about SOLDIER. I can’t answer anything classified, but other stuff, sure.

P.S. Any word on Sephiroth yet? If you hear anything, let me know.”

She opened the email attachment, and sure enough, a smiling Zack was giving the camera a thumbs up from his room in the inn. The nameless soldier was in the background, helmet still on, sitting up on his bed but with his lips parted. Like he hadn’t quite been expecting the photo and Zack had taken him off guard. But it was clear from his posture that he was doing better, and Tifa was glad to see it.

Surprisingly glad to see it. She was shocked to feel tears blurring her eyes.

“Why…?” she asked no one in particular, touching her face.

Well, he had saved her life. She would’ve been upset if he’d died or if he’d succumbed to his wounds after what he’d done for her. This was a normal reaction to someone doing something so brave and heroic.

She stared at the photo for a few more moments, taking in every inch of it. Her eyes just kept being drawn to the nameless soldier, to his quiet bravery and steady determination. She’d fantasized about Cloud being a strong, fearless SOLDIER, and yet this infantryman was more impressive to her than any of her fantasies because he’d really, truly put his life on the line to save hers.

No, she couldn’t compare him to Cloud like that. Her heart belonged to Cloud and always would. Cloud would prove himself when the time came, she was sure of it.

Still, looking at this goofy photo of Zack and his nameless companion, she couldn’t help but smile fondly. The mysterious soldier probably had a lot to handle with Zack’s boundless energy and enthusiasm. They seemed good for each other, and they clearly cared about one another. And…she cared about them too. Maybe it was because they’d been through such a harrowing experience yesterday together, but she wanted to help them with their mission. Which meant she had to find more leads about Sephiroth’s whereabouts.

As she got ready for the day, she found herself hoping she could see the nameless soldier again and thank him for saving her. Surely that was alright. Cloud would understand. And helping Zack with his mission might give her more answers about what had become of Cloud, too.

It was time to start the day’s adventures.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! With that I am going into hiatus mode now that the final trailer for Rebirth is out (which I am avoiding because of how spoilery it apparently is lol). Hope everyone enjoys the demo!

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thebuttsmcgee · 3 years

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#anyways hiya yall!#the butts chronicles #honestly today wasnt that great but hey. hey~#hm. oh yea thats what I was gunna rant about. so I really do love how Crash 4 looks!#the style brings the whole series to a zany but not too wild take while looking cartoony in a eye pleasing way #but I have a certain gripe with Crash's design in particular.#I get that the N Sane trilogy had that weird (but imo cool) realistic look but they had the right idea with keeping his #skin mouth. like that area around his mouth is just peachy skin and with the one pupil thats slightly bigger than the other.#like I love when designs use old cartoon elements and the mouth piece thats just skin but in a uncreepy way is a favorite.#like Sonic! or mitchell mouse. or Banjo! kinda like Bugs and Conker but they have fur on their mouth places. tho its still differentiated.#also there were little nuances with Fake Crash's design that are just like. gone in 4. his ears were droopy and his eyes were the same #but were creepy! he also hunched a little. and sometimes his fur was just a little shade darker.#but oh well. cant win em all. at least mostly everyone else looks great! especially Cortex like man he looks so much better.#not to shit on N Sane Trilogy but yea he looks a whole lot better.#anyways again. I drank milky and ate goldfish today. hrm. honestly probly shoulda ate more.#also was thinking about my honest faith in humanity and how so much of it selfish and while it's important to balance out selflessness with #selfishness it's even more important to realize that sometimes that selfishness can literally cause the suffering of others.#Its been so noticeable due to the pandemic. I still feel the weight of everything crashing down if it kills one of us. I feel the unease.#The reality that if one of them dies then thats it. If I die then I'll at least want them to be okay and they should be. Only if its me.#If one of them died then honestly bad things will happen. My mother could die we could then lose the house #A lot of bad things basically. but enough about that last night I saw the funniest fuckin meme #it was megatron related lmao. but yea hope yall had a great day tho!!!

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citydreamgrls · 3 years

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a simple favour - part one

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 3,371

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part two here

It had started off out of the blue one morning, a letter waiting for me in the great hall when I came down for breakfast. I had been fixing my hair when multiple heads turned towards me, I frowned as I sat down.

“What?”

Hermione held a letter in her hand, passing it over to me with a weirded out look on her face. I shrugged, recognising my name on the front but not the hand it was written in.

I laughed to myself as my eyes scanned over each carefully thought out word, describing my appearance and how ‘entrancing’ I was. Whoever had intended this letter for me was confessing their feelings in an oddly poetic and creepy way, my only conclusion being that it had to be one of the others playing a trick on me.

“Very funny guys, which one of you wrote this? I can’t recognise the writing.” I threw the parchment down carelessly, letting expectant eyes read over it as Ron grabbed it for himself.

“Doesn’t it say?” Hermione asked me, trying to read it over Harry’s head. “It was already here when we came down.”

“Yeah… this isn’t any of us.” Ron scoffed.

“I think you have a secret admirer y/n.” Harry added, handing it back to me.

I squinted, drinking some of my coffee and eyeing up their faces, expecting one of them to snap and laugh. But all I got was stone cold confusion from each of them. If only the letters had stopped there, then I may not have minded. Little did I know, it would only get worse.

The letters came every single day, sometimes multiple times. What once was harmless words of my beauty and desire turned sinister, now whoever was writing also seemed to know my whereabouts every day. He would depict times when I thought I had been alone, or claim he’d watched me go for my morning shower. My every move was documented, all with a perfect description of what I had been wearing even days after it had happened. The most disgusting part was the anonymity, the knowledge that this person was getting away with being a massive pervert and torturing me with it day in and day out. Whoever was obsessed with me was keeping it a secret and successfully stalking me from the sidelines.

The day that I found flowers on my bed I screamed like I’d been stabbed, making Ron and Harry quickly race up to the dorm thinking that I’d been attacked. Both of them had cringed at ‘gift’ with the realisation that he’d been in my room, sat on my bed and possibly done worse.

“Make sure nothing’s been taken.” Ron had said grimly, making me shudder at the fear that they could have something of mine.

“Jesus what a creep.” I’d whispered, stomping over to the bed and throwing the flowers out the window with a furious shout.

Since that day Hermione tried putting a curse on the bedroom door, meaning that only those who knew the counter-curse could enter, and those who didn’t would be blown all the way back down to the common room. Poor Ron had ended up being the test subject, which he wasn’t happy about in the slightest, but we had to make sure it worked somehow.

However, even that didn’t work. The letters kept arriving as usual, and the gifts would still appear neatly in my room every day. Not that it stopped me from discarding them in the most public way possible. My anger was growing by the second and throwing them away didn’t feel finite enough, so one night after watching the boy’s quidditch practice when Hermione and I found a teddy bear on my pillow I finally lost my cool.

I could hear voices in the common room, but that didn’t stop me. With the bear in one hand I stormed down, pushed past the small crowd of people laughing and chatting, and threw it into the fire with a grunt. They all fell into silence, Hermione catching up just in time to see its fur crackle away.

I sighed in relief, it felt good to watch the flames engulf around it. Whispers started up from behind me as my friend came over, her hand holding mine gently as we both just stood there. The bear's eyes began to melt, the plastic dripping down its face.

“Come on,” She murmured, taking me back upstairs where I screamed about how horrifying it all was and whether this ‘sick fuck’ thought he was being genuinely romantic.

“Who do you think it could be?” Hermione asked me the next night, as I ripped up yet another letter. The sight of my own owl was beginning to instil fear within me.

“At first I thought it could’ve been the twins, but even they’re finding this too much.”

Fred and George knew pretty much everything about everyone at Hogwarts, but when Ron had shown them the extent of this person’s doing, they too drew up a blank, mentioning how weird all of it was.

“They’re not like that,”

“This isn’t a harmless prank anymore is it?” I asked the girl, who wanted desperately to help me solve this twisted mystery.

“I don’t think it ever was,” She hummed to herself, sighing in defeat at the knowledge that the letter I was destroying was in no means the last of its kind.

It quickly became common knowledge that I had a stalker after my meltdown in the common room. Professor Mcconagall even offered to help, but there wasn’t much she could do without knowing who it was. Honestly I was weirdly glad she couldn’t, all this frustration had made me determined to deal with the fucker myself.

Hermione didn’t let me go anywhere by myself anymore, with the fear that the creep could pounce while I was without one of them. Most of the time it was fine, I had classes with at least one of them at all times and we had meals together as it was. But it meant that whenever I needed to study, one of them would have to go with me to the library. Hermione also made the rule that she’d sit outside my cubicle every time I showered, especially since the stalker had mentioned it before, keeping watch in case he tried to show up while I was vulnerable.

Despite it making my life a little more complicated, I was glad the others were so willing to look after me. If it wasn’t for them being with me 24/7 who knows what could have happened?

It was Harry’s turn to be on y/n watch, as he and Ron had called it, when Fred and George came running into the common room breathless. We had been looking over the most recent letter and discussing more theories on who it could possibly be when they’d burst in. We let them get their breath back, Fred hunching over as George did his best to get his words out.

“We know who it is y/n..” He’d just about managed. I jumped up, letting him sit down.

“Wh-at? Really? Who- how?” I stuttered.

Fred stood up straight, having finally gotten his heartbeat back down.

“Katie bell said she’d seen Cormac Mclaggen writing some letters this morning, then Lavender said something about him buying a teddy in Hogsmeade last week.”

“But they both saw him coming down your dorm tower last night.” George finished, cutting his brother off from the kicker of the story.

“Oi I was getting to that.” Fred grumbled, but I had zoned them as soon as I’d heard Cormac’s name mentioned.

My fists clenched up with absolute aggression, I could kill him. Now I had a disgusting, smug face to put to all the fear and loathing he’d caused and all I wanted to do was break said face.

“That fucker!” I shouted out into thin air, heading for the door. But Fred was the one to catch me before I reached it, dragging me back again without a second thought.

“Y/n it could be someone else,” Harry tried to reason, but it had to be him. It only made sense. The twins didn’t seem too convinced but argued another point against me going to find him myself.

“Besides Mclaggen is a big guy, if you go alone there’s no saying what he’d do to you.” George nodded in agreement with his brother and, as much as I hated to admit it, Fred was right. Cormac had been keeper on their quidditch team for a while now, and didn’t hide how much he liked to work out when flirting with girls. So why was he choosing me to be so creepy and mysterious to, not that I would’ve appreciated him doing it face to face either.

We decided to have a secret meeting later that night with everyone after telling Hermione and Ron what we’d learnt. Ron was mad, wanting to confront him immediately similarly to how I had reacted, but like the others Mione agreed that we should plan something.

“Guys like that are too proud, he won’t listen to y/n if she rejects him in person,” She had explained, cross legged at the end of my bed. I was propped up against my headboard, my knees tucked up to my body with multiple means of murder running through my mind.

“Not to mention you’d be giving him the satisfaction he’s always wanted,” Fred added, sitting on the windowsill beside me. One of his feet was hanging off the edge near me, swinging ever so slightly. Some weird part of me wanted to reach out, just for something to hold onto.

In the end it was decided that Ron, Harry and the twins would go and talk to him in the morning while they were at quidditch practice. This meant that I could go down to breakfast without the worry that he would be there, watching me from down the table. I tried to hide my fear of him, but with so many of them looking after me that night it was inevitable that at least one of them saw the tears in my eyes, if not all of them.

Hermione, Ron and Harry needed to go to the library to do homework after we discussed Cormac, leaving me with the twins as bodyguards which could have been worse. They did their best to take my mind off of the boy who had been writing to me about his deepest fantasies, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.

George played around with the perfume bottles lined up on the dresser, using his wand to make them dance. He had always been good at keeping himself amused. Fred had remained on the windowsill the whole time, his foot still going back and forth even when I laid on my side and found it right in my face.

He laughed lightly as I poked it away wordlessly, only to push it back into my face again. Admittedly, our little game of him swinging his foot to me so I could gently hit it away kept my mind busy for a while. Obviously it had sent me to sleep too, as I woke up when Hermione came back to let the twins go. Half asleep I groaned a thank you to them, Fred rustling my hair as he passed by and George slapping my leg in recognition.

Breakfast the next morning felt tense, Lavender had told people she thought it was Mclaggen which meant everyone kept coming up to ask if it was true. Some of them even tried to convince me how nice he really was, and that I was lucky to be wanted by him. Hermione of course sent them all on their way, keeping a hold of my hand as I struggled to finish even one slice of toast. All the while, my eyes remained glued to the great hall doors, hoping I wouldn’t see him turn up early from practice. The thought of seeing him at all had kept me away from the common room, a sickly feeling bubbling in my stomach knowing that the boy’s would probably be confronting him right about now.

I felt like throwing up on the spot, my friend’s hand getting crushed in my own as I saw him saunter in, his eyes immediately catching mine and giving me a smug smile. All I wanted to do was go over to where he sat down without a care and break his nose off with one punch. That would stop him from smirking so much like a pervert.

“What happened?” Hermione asked the boys when they finally arrived.

“”He’s a huge git you know.” Ron grumbled, glaring the boy down but the whole time it was me he was watching. I stopped looking after a while, my eyes glossing over as I listened to the twins explain how he’d reacted.

“I don’t think he even cares that we know,” Fred said.

“He’s proud of it really.” George added, making that sickly feeling somehow intensify.

“Even with these two around he wasn’t bothered,” Harry pointed to the older Weasley brothers with a huff.

“Yeah, and we were threatening him quite a lot.” George laughed, no one else really responding to his attempt at a cheery comment.

“We better go,”Hermione said, checking the time and taking my hand “Come on, if we don’t go now he might wait all day.” She whispered to me and I nodded, standing up with her. “Just ignore him.” The girl reminded me as we got nearer to his end of the table, his eyes following my step.

I broke from Mione’s grip, leaning across the table to him with a glare on my face. The fear had turned into anger all over again now that he was in front of me.

“You’re vile Mclaggen.”

“What’s wrong y/n?” He asked, that smirk never faltering. “Didn’t you like my love letters?”

People around him were confused, now learning that he’d been the one to stalk me these past couple of weeks. While some of them were his friends, none of them jumped to his defense.

“You need to get a fucking life, and leave me alone you freak.” I spat, standing up straight again to see a shocked Hermione waiting for me. I just smiled and took her hand again, leading her out of the hall as if nothing had happened.

“Christ y/n..” she scoffed “Well done.” I leant against the windowsill in the hallway, laughing hysterically into my hands.

“God that felt good.” I breathed a sigh of relief, not sure whether it worked or not but glad that I at least got to embarrass him for just one moment.

It was my mistake to let my guard down and expect nothing more from Mclaggen that day. Because what happened that very night still is the very reason people check that every door and window is locked before they go to bed.

The commotion had woken me up first, shouts and panicked scuffling coming from two different people. Then the lights were turned on, dragging me out of my sleep in a single second just to see Hermione standing in the middle of the room with her wand outstretched. At the other end, Cormac Mclaggen was backing away slowly with his hands in the air, finally a frightened look on his face. He looked over at me, now awake and frozen with fear, giving Mione a chance to shout out for help.

“RON! FRED!” she screamed, knowing just one of them had to have heard from their beds. With this Cormac ran off, Hermione shooting stunning spells after him but he dodged every one of them as he descended the tower.

“Oh my god,” I finally gasped, swallowing down hard. I broke out into a burst of tears just before the boys turned up at the door George and Harry with them, all of them with wands out for whatever was going to be inside. Hermione wrapped her arms around me, looking up at the boys but still reassuring me that it was all okay now.

“He was in here,” She said slowly, making Ron and Harry race down to the common room to see if they could catch him.

Fred and George came to my side, each taking one of my hands and holding it tight. They sat with me all through the night, letting Hermione sleep for a while. Neither of them dared drift off themselves, certain that this wouldn’t be the creep’s last attempt to get close to me.

“You can sleep if you want,” Fred whispered to me, my head leaning on his shoulder. I shook it slightly.

“I can’t.”

{third pov}

When y/n whispered to him that she couldn’t sleep, despite all the people there to keep watch for that dick Mclaggen, Fred decided he wanted to see him dead. There had to be more he could do, something that would make him leave her alone for good. Threats hadn’t worked on him, neither had the girl he wanted so badly confronting him. So the boy felt at a loss, yet fuelled to stop the onslaught of fear that y/n felt.

So he waited until his brother was in the shower to sneak off to the courtyard, hoping to catch the pervert on his way to his daily run by the lake.

“Oi, Mclaggen!” He called across the empty bridge, seeing him appear from the castle.

“You alright Weasley?”

“It’s Fred. And I know what you did last night?” He stood tall over the boy, but nothing seemed to waver his confidence.

“And what would that be?”

“You were there, in her room. You sick fucker.” The boy huffed, feeling himself growing more and more frustrated at Cormac’s arrogance.

“You missed quite a party,” he scoffed, raising his eyebrows. Fred reached forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to his chin.

“You listen to me, Okay? Leave y/n alone.” The boy swore that the pervert’s smile grew.

“And what’s it to you Weasley.” He all but hissed.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

The words had come out quicker than he’d really had time to think over their repercussions, but seeing the look on Mclaggen’s face drop in shock made up for whatever he was going to have to do from then on.

“She.. l-likes you?” Fred dropped him again, making him stumble slightly as he thought it over.

“Afraid so buddy.”

“How long has she been yours?” He hated the way it was phrased as if y/n was a possession for one of them to own.

“Two weeks.” Fred lied yet again, the anger he’d felt pushing him continue this story. At least it seemed to bother the other boy enough.

Cormac had sent one last glare at the ginger, before going off in a huff. Finally something had worked, maybe not for good, but it at least had gotten a reaction out of him. As Fred headed back inside the castle he realised that the only way the creep’s obsessive ways could be stopped, was if y/n’s attention was somewhere else.

Now he just had to find a way to explain that to her, without her getting too mad.

My room was now my safe place, somewhere he couldn’t turn up without consequence. Harry had brought me some breakfast from the great hall, and Ron was doing his best to keep what little spirits we had amongst us high. Hermione and George had given up trying to convince me to tell Mcgonagall, as I assured them nothing could be done unless he was caught inside the dorm.

“It’s just our word against his,” I huffed. We were all sitting around wondering where Fred had disappeared to when he appeared at the door, an awkward smile on his face when we all looked over at him.

“So…” He started, his voice wary as if we all might snap at him for what he was abou to say. “I might have done something bad.”

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

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Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 | AO3 link

After a gruelling afternoon of dealing with an akuma that turned its victims into puffs of sentient pink smoke – not devastating, but certainly annoying – Marinette’s about ready to thank whoever’s out there that it’s the weekend and pass out until her mother comes to wake her for dinner. But just minutes after she faceplants on her bed with a groan, when she’s drifting off into the sandman’s realm, there’s a knock on her hatch door.

“Huh?” She looks up, blinking blearily, but there’s nothing there. Huh. Maybe a bird had divebombed into it or something. But before she can bury her face in her pillow again, there’s another knock. Definitely not a bird. What the hell could be knocking on her hatch door, then? The answer turns out to be a stray cat with drooping ears, who’s perched himself on one of her chairs when she sticks her head out to investigate.

“Hey, Marinette.” Chat Noir grins but it’s hollow. “Remember how you said I could drop by anytime? You mind if I take you up on that offer?”

“Yes! I mean – no, I don’t mind! Come on down!” Marinette ducks back into her room to let Chat Noir slip inside and close the hatch after himself. He shuffles to the end of her bed and then just sits there, cross-legged, trying to smile but only managing to look anything but happy.

“Shoes off inside.” Marinette blearily blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind.

“I would, princess, but the boots don’t exactly come off,” Chat Noir shrugs. Then he winces. “Sorry. You look like death warmed over. You were trying to sleep, right?”

“I’ll be fine.” Marinette immediately betrays herself by letting out an enormous yawn.

“I can go –”

“Don’t even think about it.” Marinette waggles a finger at him. “That offer is redeemable at all times. No exceptions. Even if I’m not here, you’re more than welcome to come in and curl up like a kitten, so long as you don’t go through my stuff. And just don’t tell my mum about the shoes thing.”

Chat Noir just stares at her with glistening eyes. Shit. Did she say something wrong? Before she can ask what she’d done, her vision is cut off by the dark leather of Chat Noir’s suit as he hauls her in for a tight hug.

“Thanks, Marinette,” he says into her hair. “Just…thanks. That means a lot.”

“Breathing also means a lot,” Marinette says into his shoulder, her voice muffled, so he lets her go and shuffles back. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“Not really?” Chat Noir says. “I’m happy to follow the lead of my princess.”

“You know, I don’t know why I never told you to stop calling me that,” Marinette says. “And it’s too late now, isn’t it?”

This time, Chat Noir’s smirk is genuine. “Damn right, princess.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, sitting on the bed together, until Marinette figures that she’s never going to get to sleep now and it would be a little creepy to try and sleep with a guy in magic black leather and spandex in her room.

“I might as well keep working on one of my designs,” she says. “Unless there’s something you want to do…?”

“Nah, I’m happy to chill here,” Chat Noir says. “Actually…I never really get to chill. There’s always something to do in my room. And my life.”

“Eww.” Marinette wrinkles her nose. “That must suck. There’s nothing better than just…doing nothing sometimes. Okay, if you’re sure.” She slides down the ladder to the floor, then pads over to her desk to grab her sketchbook and pencil so that she can sketch in her bed. It’s just a hunch, but she strongly suspects that Chat Noir doesn’t want to be alone right now, even if they’re still in the same room.

Once she starts sketching, she loses herself in her own world of colours and patterns and fabrics, drawing something and then erasing it and then testing out something else and nodding in satisfaction when that something else meshes and flows. When she blinks and looks up to give herself a little break, the first thing she sees is Chat Noir just…staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she says. “Are you hungry? I can go get you some food. Or if you want to do something –”

“No, no,” Chat Noir says. “I’m fine. It’s just…relaxing to watch you. You’re mesmerising when you’re designing.” He mutters something else that could be, “Unlike Father,” but it’s so quiet and his lips don’t even move, so Marinette just brushes it off as her imagination.

“O-Oh.” Her cheeks grow warm. “Thanks? I don’t usually get in the zone like that when others are around. I’m so…hyperaware of them.”

“Well, I’m honoured, princess,” Chat Noir says with his toothy grin. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve just relaxed like this.”

“Good,” Marinette says. “Between superheroing and whatever it must be like when it’s tense at home, you deserve the break.”

“Oh, superheroing isn’t stressful at all,” Chat Noir scoffs. Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe not for you. You’re not the brains, after all.”

“I know you’re trying to offend me but you’re right.” Chat Noir shoots her finger guns. “Ladybug is the brains. I’m just the cunning, ultra-charming Chat Noir.”

Marinette can’t help but snort, though she manages to disguise it as a rather loud cough that has Chat Noir narrowing his eyes at her.

“Got something to say, Marinette?” he says.

“No, no.” This time, Marinette can’t hold back her laughter. “So long as you’re happy with the clown suit, who am I to judge?”

“Excuse me? The clown suit?” Chat Noir jabs a finger at her. “I sure wasn’t a clown when I was saving you from Evillustrator.”

“Mhm.”

“Will you just take me seriously already?”

“Why? You already admitted that Ladybug’s the brains.”

Chat Noir glares at her, though not with any heat, and then his bottom lip sticks out and he honest to god pouts. That’s when Marinette loses it and doubles over with laughter at the sight of her sulking kitty, pouting like a little kid.

“It’s not funny,” he says sullenly.

“Are you sure about that?” Marinette wipes the tears from her eyes, careful not to get her sketchbook pages damp.

“Hmph. Fine. I see how it is. I bet you’re just a Ladybug fangirl and she’s drafted you to make fun of me!”

Oh, if only he knew the truth. “Actually, I’m much more of a Chat Noir girl,” Marinette says, and Chat Noir’s cat eyes widen.

“What? No, no, I was kidding. You should totally be a Ladybug girl.”

“Too late,” Marinette sings. “I’ve been a Chat Noir girl from the start.”

“But why?” Chat Noir tilts his head. “Ladybug’s so cool. She’s gorgeous. She purrifies –”

“Chat, I swear to god –”

“– the akumas and fixes everything with her cure. All of Paris loves her. Why don’t you?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t love her,” Marinette says. “But she wouldn’t be half the hero she is without her Chat Noir there to have her back. And I’d think exactly the same thing if the roles were reversed. I guess you could say I’m a Lady Noir girl – and no, not the ship, so don’t get any ideas.”

There’s something akin to awe in Chat Noir’s eyes. Has…no one ever told him that he’s just as important? Sure, he may not take things seriously and leave the weight on Ladybug’s shoulders, but Marinette’s a hundred percent not lying when she says that she wouldn’t be able to do it without him.

“And why exactly do you think Ladybug wouldn’t be able to do it without me? Bugaboo is so ingenious that she can manage even when I’m brainwashed.”

“Sure, she can hold her own when it comes to the fighting,” Marinette says. “But what about everything else? What about the moments when there aren’t akumas and you two are on patrol? Remember that picture that Alya got of you two the other day? Where you two were goofing around on the rooftops? You really think Ladybug could handle all this alone without someone by her side to shoulder the emotional weight? I mean, sure, you could focus a bit more on the akumas instead of clowning around –”

Chat Noir sticks his tongue out at her.

“– but you’re there for her in a way that no one else is. You’re her partner, Chat, and she needs you. Maybe she even appreciates your goofiness when she’s not in the middle of trying to take down an akuma. I know that facing destructive akumas like Green Giant or brainwashing akumas like Princess Fragrance couldn’t have been easy, especially with the weight of fixing everything on her shoulders. But don’t you dare think that you’re not valuable, kitty cat. Ladybug loves you, even if it’s not romantic. I’ve seen the way she looks at you in pics and videos.”

Chat Noir doesn’t say anything after Marinette’s speech, leaving Marinette to squirm under his bright green eyes as he stares at her with a slightly agape mouth. Then he’s leaning over and grabbing her in a hug, squeezing her just like Adrien had done the other day, murmuring, “Thanks, Marinette,” into her hair while she pats his back awkwardly.

“Alright, alright, you’re getting fur all over me,” Marinette says, slightly breathless with how tightly Chat Noir’s hugging her. With one last squeeze, Chat Noir pulls away and pouts at her again.

“Excuse you, princess, but I happen to be very well-groomed,” he says, and Marinette snorts. “I totally am. You’d eat your words if you knew who I was under the mask.”

“Aww, but what a pity, you can’t tell me!” Marinette says with a sweet smile. “So, I guess I won’t have to eat my words, as delicious as they are.”

“Sugary sweet just like the little baker’s princess, huh?” Chat Noir says. Marinette reaches out and flicks his bell, her smile widening when he yelps and scowls ay her.

“Damn right, kitty. I’m sugar and spice and everything nice.”

Chat Noir doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead choosing to stare right at Marinette with his intense green cat stare. When he’s quiet for too long, Marinette opens her mouth to ask what’s up, but he gets in first.

“Thanks, Marinette,” he says. “Really. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I think I do,” Marinette says, but Chat Noir shakes his head.

“You really don’t. At home…I can’t tell you, you know, for identity reasons, but just knowing that I’ve got an escape…I mean, Chat Noir’s always been an escape, but running around alone in black leather only helps so much.”

“I can imagine,” Marinette says softly. Sure, putting on red spandex and swinging around Paris is a fantastic way to just get away when she needs it, but it still doesn’t fully help with her mad, swirling thoughts. Not like Chat Noir does. “Well, if you really want to keep yourself occupied, how about helping me with my Physics homework?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the smartest kids in that class?” Chat Noir says with a suspicious little squint.

“Well, yes…but I could use a little help brushing up on a few things,” Marinette says. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Chat Noir raising an eyebrow informs Marinette that she’s very much not fooling him as to the true purpose of asking him to help: to keep his mind occupied. But considering that it’s just as much for his benefit as it is for hers, he apparently chooses not to call out her horribly flimsy excuse.

“Sure thing, princess,” he says. “Grab your stuff and this dashing cat will help as best as he can.”

“That’s it, my grades are gonna drop,” Marinette says as she slides down the ladder to fetch her homework, stumbling on the last rung.

“Wow,” Chat Noir says. “Okay. Tell me how you really feel. Weren’t you the one asking me for help?”

“Only because I took pity on a poor stray,” Marinette says. As soon as she’s back up on her bed, Chat Noir shoves her backwards and plants a black-gloved hand on her chest.

“Say you’re sorry for hurting my poor feelings,” Chat Noir says with his roguish smile.

“Um…no.”

In response, Chat Noir’s hand applies more pressure, but not anywhere near enough to even begin to cause pain. It’s firm, albeit loose enough that Marinette could probably wiggle out if she really wanted to, but the playful light in Chat Noir’s eyes leaves her pinned to the bed far more effectively than his hand.

“And here I thought you were a pure princess,” Chat Noir says with a tone of exaggerated lament.

“Lucky me,” Marinette deadpans. When Chat Noir’s hand shifts ever so slightly, her brain makes itself very aware of the fact that the only thing separating his hand from her skin is a thin shirt and a black leather glove that seems to be radiating heat against the white material of her shirt. And yes, she doesn’t like Chat Noir as anything more than a friend…but try having a cute guy in black leather pin any teenage girl to her bed and expect her not to grow warm and fuzzy. She’s just going to choose to not acknowledge the fact that her crush on Adrien has been violently shoved to the backburner in this very moment, since she’s not too sure she wants to explore the implications of that.

“Oh.” With pink cheeks, Chat Noir releases Marinette, allowing her to push herself up and hastily fix her messy pigtails. “Uh – Physics! Right! Help you!”

“Very eloquent,” Marinette says, willing her racing heart to slow down already. Chat Noir gives her another roguish, lopsided grin.

“That’s me, princess. Eloquent as hell.”

“Sure,” Marinette drawls, then opens her notebook and flips to the worksheet of questions. “Now, how about you put that big brain of yours to good use?”

Chat Noir bows his head mockingly. “As you wish.”

“Oh my god, you did not just do what I think you did.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #aotq fic #aotq: hold me #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #marichat #oops #yeah marinette you just don't think about that #dorks

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

Text

Marigold Fever (Last Part)

She sleeps for a long while and Sokka is hesitant to leave her. At the very least, her sleep look peaceful. She lays on her back, clutching lightly at the sheets in her sleep. Every now and again she utters a soft cough. He watches her roll onto her side before Zuko beckons him out of the room.

“She probably won’t appreciate waking up and seeing someone staring at her.” Zuko comments upon re-entering the hallway.

Sokka imagines a fistful of fire in his face and nods, “yeah, you’re probably right.” He decides to wander off to his own room. He has to admit that he is still rattled from almost having someone die in his arms. Someone who he is growing fond of at that.

He lays upon his own bed, one arm behind his head and the draped over his middle and stares at the ceiling. It had been too close a call for him to rest easy. And there is something else. Something he can’t place that bothers him.

Though he isn’t sure that bother is the right word.

He tries to put it out of his mind and think of something more pleasant. Evidently his mind doesn’t leave the slumbering princess. Azula isn’t exactly the sort of person who he’d have thought that he’d find pleasant. Yet, he has grown comforted by her presence and her snide remarks, accompanied by chipper comments from TyLee. Before her health had taken a sharper decline, Azula almost seemed to be in good spirits.

Perhaps it is bizarre given the circumstances, but it had been nice to hold her so close.

He hopes that she will recover soon.

.oOo.

She doesn’t know what time it is but she does know that it had been early morning when she’d…

Her head is fuzzy and her thinking is still jumbled. Light streams over her face, it is warm and consoling. A tingle prickles in her belly at the thought that she might be dead. Didn’t they say something about light and warmth in dying. She writes that off relatively quickly. She can’t imagine that she’d be seeing the light side of the spirit world, in passing.

She sits up and tries to rid some of the haze in her head. For a moment she holds her position with her head dipping and her eyelids drooping. She thinks that she may fall asleep again.

She must have briefly nodded off because her head is against the pillow once more and the sun is hanging lower in the sky. The rays it casts on her floor have shifted some.

This time, Azula forces herself out of bed. She still feels light-headed and the room sways some. She puts her weight against the wall and waits for the spell to pass. She utters a few coughs, a residual lingering irritation in her throat.

It takes her another cough and a moment to realize that the petals had either withered and shrunken or retracted and disappeared altogether.

She doesn’t feel like wandering back across the room to check the mirror, but she brings her fingers to her neck. It is smooth. Still somewhat swollen, but free of the bulging impression of the vines.

She isn’t one for crippling emotions but it is a fight to keep herself from collapsing in sheer relief. Azula wanders into the hallway with the last of the fog in her brain clearing. It has cleared enough for her to put two and two together and her stomach lurches.

She had anticipated a slow and agonizing death.

She had made plans for that.

She hasn’t made any regarding what she would do if her love were to be reciprocated.

.oOo.

Sokka frowns, his drawing is not going how he wants it to. His lion-turtle looks more like Appa, but if Appa was having really bad fur day. His skin prickles, at first he can’t place why. He looks up and jolts, nearly toppling his chair.

Azula stands in the doorway, still in her night robe--he supposes that, at this late in the evening, there is no point in her changing out of it. She regards him with languid gold eyes. He doesn’t know what she is doing here but he doesn’t intend on shooing her away.

“What are you drawing?” He can hear the strain in her voice.

Before remembering that he is not satisfied with his art, he pridefully holds up his masterpiece and declares, “it’s a lion-turtle.”

“I hate it.” Azula comments dryly and with all of the social elegance he expects of her.

“Actually, me too.” He admits rubbing the back of his head.

“Can I set it on fire?” She holds her hand out.

Sokka holds it protectively to his chest. “No!”

She laughs, but this only irritates her throat and she is hunched over coughing. The fit passes. It must have depleted what little energy she had left, because the firebender sits herself on the floor.

“Here.” Sokka gets up. He helps her into the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“I suppose, fine...for having almost died.” She flips the lion-turtle drawing over with a matter-of-fact, “his intense stare was creeping me out. Seriously, can I burn that monstrosity?”

“Kozu didn’t do anything to you.”

Azula crinkles her nose. “Did you really name that thing after my brother?”

He realizes that she has just changed the subject.

“Any more petals?”

Azula shakes her head.

Perhaps he is absently putting the pieces together because it dawns on him that he is probably the first person she visited after waking. And she is in his room, she has sought him out in particular. She has her head down, face buried in her arms.

If the petals are gone then that means…

Does he really love her?

He peers at her, meeting her gaze when she turns her head up.

He thinks that he does.

.oOo.

Azula supposes that she has her victory.

The flowers are gone and she hasn’t had to utter a word of confession.

She is under the impression that Sokka will coax a vocalization out of her anyways. Likely after she has recovered. That is if he can put two and two together. She believes that he already has, he is giving her the stupid lopsided grin.

“Stop that.” She murmurs.

“You like me don’t you?”

Foolish of her to assume that he would wait. “Less and less every time you speak.”

He wasn’t supposed to smile more. But he does. He isn’t making things any less awkward for her. She longs to avert her gaze, but she holds it. He loses the shit-eating grin and pulls up a chair for himself. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Azula shrugs.

“You said that you would if he was single. I have a whole folder of heartbreak art to prove it.”

Azula shrugs a second time. “Didn’t want to make things weird.”

Sokka blinks. “Spontaneously dying in the middle of the floor kind of makes any situation weird.”

“Yes, well, I’d be dead so I wouldn’t have to deal with any of the awkwardness.”

He laughs. “You’re incredible.” She can’t tell if he means so endearingly or incredulously or some hybrid of the two.

“Yes.” She agrees. Truth be told she also didn’t fancy the idea of rejection. Not after having received it from her father and at one point her uncle, mother, and ex-friends. It still clings to her even with most relationships decently patched up.

But he hasn’t rejected her. She feels her neck again. The vines would still twitch there if he had. Still, she has no idea what to do with that.

He sighs, “you really aren’t good at this romance thing, are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Well good thing that you have found yourself a professional.”

“Zuko told me that he walked in on you with a rose in your mouth and…”

Sokka’s face grows red. “Well that makes two of us!”

She blinks twice. He isn’t wrong. “I didn’t put mine there.” Technically she had though, in some sense.

He knows it too. He stops laughing again. “It’s not as hard as you think.” He flashes her a reassuring grin.

“You’ll find that I’m not the cuddly, clingy sort.”

“That’s the beauty of love!” Sokka sweeps his arms out in a grand arc. “You don’t have to be. For some reason, I like...I love you anyways. I’m kind of tired of clingy anyways. Suki is great, but sometimes a man needs his man time.”

“As long as I never find out exactly what that entails, have at it.” She comments with a wave of her hand. She puts her head back against the table, feeling drowsy all over again.

“Besides,” Sokka continues, “I think that this is rather romantic don’t you think.”

She cocks her head.

“Stumbling upon a heartbroken man doing art.”

Azula rolls her eyes. At this he grows serious again. “What I mean is, I don’t need you to be a Suki. I don’t need you to be fluffy or cuddly. I think that I’d probably hate that actually, it would be a little creepy. I just need you to be…”

“Alive?” Azula fills in.

“That too.” Sokka chuckles. “I just need you to be Azula. Just do what you usually do. I fell in love with that, so...uh...keep doing it I guess.”

She hides her face in her arms, under the guise of not feeling well. At least the fading disease has given her a subtle means of hiding an absurdly flushed face. She can’t recall a time when anyone has said something like that to her.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” He asks. “Your bed is probably more comfy than this desk.”

Azula picks her head back up and then stands up, simultaneously pushing her chair out. She motions for him to follow.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat or drink? You missed lunch.”

Azula nods. “Let Zuzu know that he’s not safe from me yet. I’m still going to kick his ass at kuai ball this summer.”

“I’ll deliver the message.” Sokka promises once they reach her bedroom. He leaves her in the doorway with a parting kiss. She brings her fingers to her lips. She supposes that she hadn’t entirely hated it.

No, she rather liked it.

#Avatar #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Hanahaki #Fanfiction

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animal-guardian · 6 years

Photo

IDENTIFICATION Name: Phantasma

Age: She is ageless, being a ghost and all. But! She did die when she was 32 years old.

Cause of death: Arrows to the back.

Gender: Female

Species: Flower Type Yokai

Height: 0% Form stands at 3’00

50% Form stands at 4’00

100% Form stands at 5’00

Weight: ????

Scars/Deformities: Has no Eyes but that doesn’t mean she can’t see.

Theme song(s):

Blooming Spring, by Go raibh maith agat orchestra (From the game Deemo

Rainy Memory, by Rabpit (From the game Deemo) —— Family Relations Parents: Dead Siblings: None Friends: Has none yet.

Lover: None currently. (Had one in past life)

Offspring: None currently. (Had one in past life) —- Personality

(List at least 3 positive, 2 neutral, and 3 negative.)

Loyalty: She has a strong sense of loyalty, her parents got sick with the wounds they got from an attack from their used to be allies. Using poisoned weapons. illness followed, she was heartbroken at her parents demise and she wished she had been stronger…and after the betrayal she swore to be more loyal than her traitorous Ex-allies showing them what loyalty could have given them. Observing: While her eyes are empty sockets, that doesn’t mean she can’t notice slight changes in behavior and body language. Seeing inner turmoil is a speciality of hers, giving her hunches on what might be working with the individual.

Open minded: Phantasma is open to suggestions, ideas and opinions, and try’s to look at them from different angles so she can understand where they stand. —- Quite: This flower ghost doesn’t like to talk if the situation doesn’t call for it.

Mothering: She can be very motherly to children, She can sometimes be seen with them during any spare time she has. —— Stoic: She isn’t exactly open, in the emotional way, she made walls around her emotions to keep from getting distracted, and at times this becomes a issue with others. And if she endures pain without complaining this can become deadly if the medic doesn’t find her and make her show her wounds.

Eerie: Now this isn’t exactly her fault, Others find her creepy and strange, this makes it hard for them to trust her. And this becomes a problem with the workings of the groups. Because if some don’t trust her it could cause problems with Negotiations or fighting, this also can be a problem in finding a lover.

Strengths: -Gardening- Phantasma is an amazing gardener, true you may think this isn’t a strength. But don’t be so quick to judge! She uses this ability in one of her attacks which summons a large flower bud that sprouts mini Orochi’s across a small area around her. And this comes in handy when she deals with poison from plants.

-A mother’s ferocity- This seems strange as a strength, and true while it’s less affective with her older team mates, it can become a force to be reckoned with! And trust me, her mothering instinct gives her an edge when dealing with others who’ve had emotional scarring.

-Inner Workings- Now this means she can feel and see other people’s auras, seeing if they are depressed, angry, happy and ect. This helps her get a good guess on what her opponent might do.

-Training animals- This comes from her past life, she had a way with animals and this carried into her ghost state. She trains animals to become message carriers and spies. She cares for each one she has, which includes a Dove called Mu, a Python called Mobby, and last but not least a Shiba inu named Maple Leaf.

Weaknesses:

-Her Back- She may be a ghost but she can be injured by magic based weapons, some can be cursed or holy she’s affected by both…but her back is where her weakness lies. And again her back is her bigger weak spot she can still get injured everywhere.

-Her flowers and mini orochi’s- You see, they are not obvious weak spots. But when hit you can see small little marks show up on her chest. Those little love’s are connected to her and hurting them in turns hurt her but she can sacrifice power to make them stronger so beware!

-Cursed or holy weapons- As explained above, she can be injured by magic infused weapons.

—– Sexual Orientation: Bi-Sexual Status: Single.

Turn On’s

-Accepting- Phantasma wants some one that accepts her personality, and not be put off by her personality or her looks.

-Open minded- She also wants some one who is open minded as well. She hates the thought of someone being to narrow minded to think about the pros and cons.

-Love’s to garden- She would like to have partner that likes plants and gardening. She loves to spend some time on her garden which grows herbs to help with some illnesses and annoyances.

Turn Off’s

-Narrow Minded- Phantasma will NOT tolerate behavior that could damage another’s feelings or ideas. She will not hesitate to smack some sense into the narrow minded being.

-Aggressive- She also won’t stand for a aggressive partner, because to her this means the other won’t leave her be if it is necessary for her. And that will not do.

-Un-loyal- She doesn’t want a partner that will date her and then go off and date some one else just because they think they can while still dating her. This will most likely lead to the ex-partner being spade or nurtured.

-Lazy- She doesn’t want to have to drag the other around, this makes her think that they wouldn’t be able to provide or protect children if they had any. And will make them very un-attractive to her.

Current Crushes: None Past Crushes: Morrow ��– History -Past- Phantasma was once a charming young women living with her family in Japan. Being mostly in the mountains she spent her child hood there and it was peaceful for a time. Until she met a strange Yokai known as a Kappa, living in the river near her home. Now she knew of their scary reputation, but she wanted to know if the horror stories were true. She got her chance when the poor Young Kappa was near drying out trying to get back to the river but his foot was caught in a bear trap. She went and helped him, getting his foot out and then helping him into the river to gain his strength back. That’s when they began talking, and talking after a few years she grew to love the Kappa known as Marrow. Her Parents were of course terribly worried how this would work so they seemed aid and found what they thought were their allies in helping their daughter raise a Kappa and human child. But a few days after Phantasma gave birth to the special child, she went to the River Only to discover her beloved had been murdered. She hears screams and yells from her home and with child in her arms she cradled them and ran back home.

Smoke and fire filled her vision as her house was set a blaze, she cried out for her family, for ether of them to answer. But it was in vain attempt as the House was engulfed in flames, she ran as she heard footsteps her parents voice call out and she was relieved to see them. Thanking whichever deity saved them, The family ran off together and the Parents soon explained that they don’t know what caused the blaze. Phantasma soon spoke about her dead beloved Marrow and she cried that night with her child, they met up with their allies telling them what’s happen and they helped give them a new home to stay in. A few weeks pass and on one moonlit night while Phantasma was feeding her child she could faintly hear noises from outside and she at first ignored it. But when her pet Shiba inu started to growl and it’s fur standing on end she looked to her door and could see shadows moving around. She held her child close fearful for her child’s safety. The dog moved forward in a stalking motion growling louder and before she knew what happened her room was under siege.

Phantasma was thrown into a panic as she stood up and bolted as her pet attacked one of them men distracting them long enough for her to slip out the door. She went to find her parents and warn them but, found them dead and cold on the floor, she saw some liquid pushing from their wounds and she could tell they were poisoned. She ran out of the house crying in distress and fear going to a field of red flowers, the sky clear above her the moon shining down lighting her way but the attackers followed her to the field were she couldn’t run any further and collapsed to her knees panting desperately to get air into her lungs. She looks to her tormentors and one took off his mask and she was mortified to see the commander of the party that was supposed to be her allies. She cries out why they would betray her family, he said for the riches they would achieve to turn in a hybrid monster. She crouched over her child hoping to shield them but that’s when they fired, Arrow slicing through her delicate pale skin. One stabbed her through the heart and she bleed out on the field of red flowers, Her child brutally killed and taken from her corpse leaving her their to decay the only person who came to her was her pet Shiba inu. Who howled into the night in sorrow having been injured. As her blood stained the flowers below her a red mist began to seep from the earth and a ghostly wail came from it as it began to take shape…And so Phantasma was born from the spirit energy from the flowers. —– -Powers-

Flower pollen: She exhales a red mist like cloud which is actually flower pollen of the red flowers like the ones in her hair. They bloom in a circle around her, they are poisonous so standing in them to long can cause damage to the attacker.

Orchid Buds: A few larger flowers bloom and small orchids heads come from it to strike at nearby enemies.

Lashing threads: Her long sleeves actually can expand and contract, making them like whips she can even make her poison pollen come from them. ——-

Question: Why is your character needed in the guild? Answer: She can be useful when dealing in herbal medicine, quick field first aid, A decent long ranged defense, A on the go spy and a suitable therapist if needed. And this is more of a bonus in a way, she doesn’t need to eat, or drink…all she needs is sleep she is EXTREMELY low maintenance. And has a good amount of incite into the spirit world and magical items.

Phew! I’m done! Now this character I hope to enter into the group know as the @black-suit-justice ! X3 also if you see her 0% form that was done by Piranhartist on Deviant art! And I developed her from there!

Now hopefully she’s adequate to join the group!

Please don’t steal the art or characters!

#Phantasma #black suit justice #animal guardian

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