#I GAVE SHADOW THE EDGEWORTH CRAVAT

[blu-ish]

Okay so I may still be thinking about Tides of Chaos...

(outfit and character design inspo here if you wanna check this amazing artist out xD)

[turnaboutimagines]

Hey I really liked the hananaki disease one shots,, do you think you could write an alternate ending for them where the reader recovers? As much as I love angst I also love happy endings, I hope it’s not too much to ask!💕

That’s very valid, pal!  These are honestly just alternative versions that can stand on their own, more than an alternative ending.  The language in this is just as flowery too though because it’s fun to write.  ;-)  Similar situations to the OG post, but the boys get their happy endings here.[The OG Post, is ANGST and features both Reader death and major character death.]Content Warning: Mentions of coughing up flower petals with blood and pain as per Hanahaki Disease’s premise (tl;dr, you start coughing up flower petals that slowly gets worse due to unrequited love.) 

Miles Edgeworth.

It’s hard not to fall in love with Miles Edgeworth.  While he may remain oblivious to it, you see the longing looks people give him and hear the hopeful flirtations in their voices.  But you know him too well, better than any of them, and watch all of their hopes wilt.  

He’s not malicious, you know, but relationships… well, he doesn’t think they’re his style and romance in general is a ‘nebulous concept’ to him.  You’ve heard as much for yourself over late night cups of tea.  “You aren’t missing out on much,” you’d laughed at the time and earned a rare, appreciative smile in return.

It’s the kind of smile that made warmth blossom in your chest, longing for seeing more such smiles on him.  Happiness and acceptance truly do suit him well, he deserves them and so much more.  And you want to continue to help provide those things for him to the best of your ability at his side as he continues to move forward.

You just happened to get unlucky that evening, finally coughing up a white rose petal flecked with crimson blood.  You’d spent too many evenings with him, bonding over tea and games of chess…  You’d fallen too deeply and there was no going back.  

You resign yourself to your fate.  He’s worth it, even if your wish won’t be able to come true.

The thorns dig into your lungs more with each breath and flurries of petals now coming up instead of just the single ones…  It all points to one fact: Your time’s running out.  So, you choose to spend as much of your time with him as you can.  Perhaps it’s selfish of you, knowing that it’ll hurt him all the more when you’re suddenly gone.  Yet he’s looking so haggard from how hard he’s running himself in the name of his work, it’s hard to stay away from him when you can be there with him to encourage him to take breaks and eat well.  

It’s a good way to spend your final days, at his side as you try and make him as happy as you can—wanting to see more of his elusive smile before you go.

You just so happen to get unlucky once again on one such evening, it happens while you’re playing a chess match with him as you discuss each of your days.  The coughing fit descends upon you too quickly.

You can only cough into your hand, wrapping your fingers around the red and white petals stained with your blood to hide them from view.  It’s a good thing, too, because by the time you’ve cleared your lungs, his hand’s on your shoulder as he looms over you—worried.

“Are you all right?”

You’re tired, you realize as you stare up at him with the proof of your illness in hand.  More importantly, you decide on a whim that he deserves the warning.  You unfurl your fingers and hold up your palm to him, refusing to meet his eyes as regret quickly blooms in your chest.  He grows as pale as a lily, eyes flickering nervously between you and the petals while his grip on your shoulder turns into a death grip.

“…Who is it?”

You spare a sad smile in his direction, torn between not wanting to place this particular burden on him, but also not wanting to lie to him.  You’d already done enough damage with your first impulsive action, another one may break him.

“Please… tell me.  I need to know.”

He releases your shoulder and instead hesitantly places a finger underneath your chin, tilting your face toward him to make you look at him.  You’ve never seen this expression on his face before, there’s a strange combination of hope and dread he presses the issue.  It’s all it takes to crumble your resolve…

“You, Miles.”

The single word hangs in the air.

He laughs, equal parts disbelief and relief with a light wheeze making it rough around the edges.  You can only blink up at him, shocked at hearing such a sound come from him (as adorable as it is), but especially in this context.  He clears his throat, a crimson blush spread across his cheeks as he averts his gaze and crosses his arms back over his chest.

“Ngh, I, um, apologize.”  He looks back to you, gaze intense as ever as his finger taps nervously at the crook of his elbow.  “I just… recently, I’ve… also had it… because of you.”

“Because of…?”

When the realization hits, you don’t hesitate pull him down to your level by his cravat and capture his lips in a gentle first kiss.  He freezes for a moment, but quickly relaxes into it as his lips fumble a bit awkwardly against yours.

You both smile into it, not minding the slight metallic taste in the slightest.

Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix never fails to make you laugh or feel special, drawing you helplessly into his gravitational pull of non-stop trouble as he does with so many.  The way he looks at you shines with life and his smile is pure and utter sunlight.  Everything feels different with him, more vivid and just… special.  There’s simply no other word that will do for him.

You’re just friends, though.  Or you were.  Now, you’re best friends and always will be… which is even worse.

Yet he says as much with such brilliant happiness that it should make you feel warm, too.  But it doesn’t.  Each time he says that dreaded word, it feels like a cold shadow’s cast over your heart.

It should be enough to prevent anything from growing, but… it isn’t.  Not for you at least.  These cursed feelings have only flourished in-spite of it until they came to bloom in a violent fit of coughing.  The single yellow petal, long and slender, stares up at you from its place on your desk—the red drops around it reminding you of what is to come.

However, it is not yourself that you think of first, but Phoenix.  Perhaps it’s because the sunflower petal reminds you of him or, maybe, you truly have fallen in too deep.

As hard as it is, you tear yourself out of his orbit, wanting to minimize the damage you do when you disappear from his life.  You want to preserve that precious smile of his as best you can and that means absolving him of any guilt he may feel from learning the truth.

The yellow petals are coming more frequently, now in clusters, and you can feel the stalks taking hold in your lungs—breathing is becoming harder with each passing day.  Perhaps that’s why you finally respond to one of Phoenix’s texts and agree to stop by the office to have a talk.  He never gave up on trying to contact you…as lucky or unlucky as that may be.

It’s at least an opportunity to grant him some closure.  A proper goodbye.  You should give him that much… it’s kinder in the long run.

Yet it’s excruciating for you, just sitting beside him on the sofa.  There’s no light in his eyes or beaming smile on his face, then, and his hands are jammed into his pockets.  He’s worried and it’s all because of you.

But it’s kinder in the long run.

“Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

“…I’ve just been busy.  It’s got nothing to do with you.”  A lie said with a smile is still a lie, 

He purses his lips, eyes darting around you at invisible objects.  And he is.

The magatama… you’d caught him using it before and he’d trusted you enough to tell you about it.  He doesn’t need it to know you’re lying though, he knows you too well, but still… you can’t help but bristle at it.

“Phoenix—”

“—Please, you know you can tell me anything.  Just… don’t lie to me.  Not about something this serious, especially if I’ve done something wrong.”

“I… you haven’t done anything, Phoenix.”

He frowns at you and takes your nearest hand, making your heart lurch its way into your throat.  “Then… what is it?”

“I—”

“—can’t tell you,” is what you want to say.  But you choke over your words, face losing all its color as you seize up.  You hear him call your name with worry, but you descend into a coughing fit and hack up another cluster of yellow petals into your hand.  There’s no point in hiding them.

He stares at the yellow petals in growing horror, too clever for his own good as he rapidly connects the dots.

“…that’s why.”  You work up your courage and smile at him.  “Because I love you romantically, Phoenix… not platonically.”

Suddenly, you’re pulled into a tight embrace, and after a few moments you hear him sniffle quietly.  You sigh and try and reach around to rub his back to comfort him, but your hands trapped firmly in-between your chests.

“I love you, too.  Romantically.”  He tightens his grip around you further.  “I realized and I’ve been meaning to tell you, but you’ve been… avoiding me.”

Now it’s your turn to make the connections.

“You…you’re not just… saying that, are you?”

It would be just like him to try and pull something like that just to try and save your life, trying to bluff his way into requiting your romantic feelings… his loyalty is one of the many things you love about him, though.

He pulls back and shakes his head, looking serious.  “I wouldn’t bluff about something like that… and let me present some evidence on the matter.”

The smile returns to his face as he closes the distance between the two of you and steals a kiss.  

His lips feel so soft and warm and you can’t help but melt into it as the flowers within you wither.