#I hope I still answered them kind of!!!

[dootznbootz]

For the writer's ask game: 15, 18, 19, 27 :)

Thank you for the ask!!! :D Some of these questions I had a hard time answering so I'm sorry for that!

15.) Quirks I love to write about

just all around fidgets and messing with hair probably!! bouncing knees and just all around wiggling.

18.) What are some writers you are inspired by? What are some of your fave quotes?

I guess Homer?? I don't really know. I have a weird thing where anybody's writing makes ME wanna write no matter the genre. It's kind of like "Oh wow they created the vision they wanted me to see! I wanna do that too!" but then it'll be Tolkien who I write nothing like and dn't try to be like. I guess maybe a bit of Rick Riordan, as I tend to write "silly". I can't think of any big quotes that make me really go crazy other than the "Joy, joy like a drowning sailor feels" as that just makes me go feral. (that COULD be because it's recent AND because it's the fanfic I'm writing for) In some ways, I don't think I really try "to be like" any author other than myself if that makes sense??? Actually, when I try and "get in my writing groove" I try and read my old works to kind of remember how I write you know?

19.) "For fans of ____" What works are similar to yours?

"For fans of simps and tooth-rotting fluff with fucked up angst on the occasion with some fluff in the center to give hope"

Again I can't really think of anyone to compare myself to? I know there probably is some out there but I usually don't read things to think "Oh my! I wanna write like that!" I just think "Oh wow, I sure hope eepy deepy gets a happy ending...If they can create something, so can I! I'm going to make something that has nothing to do with whatever I just read!"

27.) Do I have playlists for my wips?

Not for my specific wips, as honestly that;ll take forever, and I doubt I'll find what entails in my fics in songs xD but I DO have like, "OTP playlists"! Probably the song that matches what I plan for the fic the most is "Fair" by the Amazing Devil, which yeah, cliche but with how it's a sickfic and it's all about "I don't care about your flaws; I love you as you are" stuff that I just EAT UP EVERY SINGLE TIME

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[canisalbus]

i find it so funny how people have basically loss.jpg’d your guys so they’re recognizable as things like a crumpled ball of tissue and a loaf of bread.

look at these two characters i love them: 🟠 △

.

[vigilskeep]

me and the 4 other da2 fans have been in a drought when will keir return from ostagar

every week i play ostagar again with a new warden and he has to go through that again because he’s also there. sort of a time loop situation . sad really

[namu-the-orca]

Do you have any advice on how to begin drawing a cetacean? When I'm drawing terrestrial animals, I can break them down into simpler shapes pretty easily, but cetaceans are just Big Tubes and I'm completely stumped on how to start

(Disclaimer that my work is rather stylised, so I'm not looking for advice on photorealism! Just any advice you have in general. I admire your ability to understand and render these sausage-bodied beasts)

Hi! That's an interesting question. I have to admit I had to draw a couple of dolphins first to see how I actually deal with them when free-handing lol. So much of my work as of late is scientific illustration, where in many cases I can build upon my own older illustrations. The new pieces are always 100% new, but correcting a base - however poor - is easier than starting from scratch.

Before I go any further let me stress the eternal importance of references. I can draw a dolphin fine from memory but for it to be actually accurate I need references. I always use them. Especially when it comes to weird poses or angles, but even for illustrations I will reference 25-50 photographs. Use them, study them, find them. They are a resource not a cheat.

Also, years ago I actually started work on a whole series of dolphin drawing tutorials. Or rather, collections of notes and tips for different topics (anatomy, differences between males and females, colouration, variation). Looking at the files now I see I had actually written and drawn a frightening amount already. Perhaps I should try to finish them? Is that something people would be interested in? Anyway, it starts off with a word of encouragement, which I do want to share here:

Actual advice is below the cut:

ONTO METHODS - illustrations

I found that for me, my method depends on whether I'm making an illustration or a full scene painting. For illustrations - which are in flat side view - I actually embrace the sausage. I drew a dolphin for you and saved the steps of how I go about it.

And this is the first. I start with a sort of flat-bottomed airfoil shape, and then add fins and a beak in approximate locations.

Next is refining the appendages and giving a face. Shape and placement of appendages as well as eye and mouth line is all experience and/or reference work.

Then comes fixing what I messed up lol. I always make the head too big first try (would have been good for a baby dolphin though!). Using cutting/transforming/moving selections around I correct proportions to what feels correct to me (again, that part comes from having seen and drawn a lot of dolphins).

Add some markings and hooray we have a spinner dolphin! This is the part where I would seriously start consulting references to check all the details and proportions are in order. If you don't need (photo)realism you can skip that step and use refs further back in the process just to get the shape/idea/colour of the species you're trying to paint right.

MORE METHODS - for different poses

When it comes to dynamic poses, my workflow is completely different. I just start from the nose and build my dolphin from there. Because as said above, they do have anatomy. And I think the way the beak flows into the cheek, the eye bumps connect, then the curve of the throat, the attachment of the pectoral fin, the way the belly curved up towards the genital region, the slight bulge behind that, then the muscles of the peduncle which flow into the flukes - I think the relations between those separate parts are enough for me?

These are the little dolphins (and a porpoise) I sketched from memory. In all cases I started from the tip of the nose and built from there, with minimal or no adjustments/erasing along the way. It was very much outline work. Details on eyes, mouth, etc, would come later. The killer whale is a bit different and got way more detailed than the rest. With such a front view angle I do use some spherical shapes to break it down for the body and face.

Otherwise I've never really liked or used the method of breaking an animal down into shapes, it never felt logical or intuitive to me. My "method" (if you can call it that lol) just comes from having drawn a lot of dolphins. I don't know if it is necessarily helpful when you want to get a grasp of them when starting out. Regardless I do hope this answered your question somewhat and you could get something useful out of it!

Also, I realise now I mostly talked about "standard "dolphins - for whales/short-beaked smaller cetaceans/etc my process is mostly the same, except their heads just have different shapes.

[barcodenumber00]

although I enjoyed season2 I missed the unionisation themes that were being set up at the end of the first season. lumon presenting a history of conflict between departments to incite separation, MDR and O&D choosing to bridge the gap of distance anyway. The unfinished map Petey made suggesting that the severed floor was larger than they initially comprehended, the anti-severance protest groups outside of lumon fighting for workers' rights. we had a brief hint of that at the start of the season with lumon assimilating the MDR uprising into its incentivisation methods, the implication of lumon as an international enterprise with the new characters that were very quickly dropped and forgotten about, and it was interesting to see the background contextualisation of lumon's industry being propagated by child labour (especially considering the severance procedure in effect makes the adult innies like children, tabula rasa innocents).

but the majority of the characters became incredibly isolated this season anyway and the show became less of a satire of workspaces and more about the way severance as a procedure complicated their romantic relationships. I was kind of hoping this season would lean into some more consequences with regards to petey's legacy in mark's mind post reintegration, and also the mapping out and unionising of other isolated departments on the severed floor beyond the oddity of mammalians nurturable.

[dreamerdrop]

Are u a jezri shipper genuinely i see so little of it in the fandom but i love the ship so much. And so much of the content i see is just people saying ‘Garashir is better Julian should leave Ezri’ it makes me so sad 💔💔 I would love to follow more jezri fans on here

Uh, well… Sorta depends how you define “shipper”, hah. ^^;;

TL;DR is I would say I ship Jezri in that they have an interesting dynamic I would want to see explored, but I am also a diehard endgame Garashir shipper so... =w=;;;;

I don’t dislike Jezri, I think that Julian & Ezri have a lot of narrative parallels and thematic elements in common, and that they aren’t… bad for each other, to the degree some people seem to think they would be.

However, I am… very much a Garashir endgame sort of shipper. I can’t really write about Julian or Garak in relationships with anyone else without thinking about their relationship with each other, even if it’s only a background element. My brain sort of defaults to Garashir above all.

But, I don’t like… hate Jezri. I think there is a lot of potential between them and an interesting dynamic to explore! I don’t personally see them having a long term relationship, but… I think the short term romance they could have would actually be important for both their character growth…

I don’t want to go into detail because you ARE a Jezri shipper and I don’t want to sound like I’m uh, bashing your ship or anything? But my thoughts on them having a longer term relationship are… not entirely uplifting for either of them, sorry!! (<- to be completely fair though, my thoughts on Garashir having long term relationship also involve no small amount of turbulence, so… I’m just not a “happily ever after” style shipper in general tbh lol.)

And uh… well, personally, I don’t think it’d be *Julian* who leaves Ezri anyway lmao. I think Julian would stay with Ezri until he dies if it was up to him, for better or for worse. Like, he seems very much the type to stick with a relationship until it completely implodes unless there’s an external force ending it.

(With Palis it was joining Starfleet and the way he describes it sounds like he was basically waiting until there was no choice except breaking up left, with Leeta it was her idea to break up so she could pursue Rom… so yeah, I don’t think Julian is ever leaving ANYONE unless his hand is forced.)

[akkivee]

AND THE WAY!!!!!! THE BOYS COVERS ALL HAD THEIR 2/3 GUMIS IN FRONT OF THEIR LEADERS BUT!!!!!!

ITS ICHIJIKU IN FRONT OF OTOME!!!!!! ITS OTOME IN FRONT OF NEMU!!!!!!! YOU COULD EVEN SAY OTOMES STOPPING OR SHIELDING NEMU WITH THAT POSE OTOME IS BACK FR I FEEL!!!!!!!!!!

[spookythesillyfella]

Happuh Epster

Eggie :3

tysm for the wish . apolo !! right back at ya !! <33

the gift waz certainly appreciated ¥_^

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[canisalbus]

The love and care that you pour into your characters is so palpable that I can feel it cumulatively breaking chunks of slag off of my hardened heart. It makes me want to feel again, and make art again. It makes me remember what it's like to have passion about anything. So even though we're strangers to each other, thank you. For everything that you do. Your art reminds me what it means to be alive.

.

[hideyseek]

i know how the distance i run to you ends now :)))))))))

[capricioussun]

Luck and Cue!! I love those guys!

I'll start with what they do! Cue handles the more professional stuff, and inner workings of the family, while Luck is more like an ambassador, checking in on local business they're "partnered" with, befriending even those they're not, doing his best to make Aster a name with predominantly positive association for most.

Honestly not too dissimilar to how the Mafiafell brothers' work dynamic functions, too, except Cue handles the more official publicity type of stuff, and Luck usually handles the, uh. "Sensitive matters".

As for their relationship, it's still pretty good, if maybe a bit more distant than classic US. They do still look out for each other, that loyalty is absolutely still there, but things are just...a little stilted between them. Almost not as close as brothers, sort of more like very good old friends, but not entirely. A little hard to explain, but they do know each other very well, even with the rift that'd grown after having the torch passed to them.

Luck is a bit of a brat and loves to do things for the sole purpose of annoying Cue, however he learned very early on Cue wouldn't bail him out if he really wanted to teach him a lesson and is careful about taking things "too far".

Cue, while caring deeply for his brother, feels like entertaining his more rebellious nature is just coddling or humoring him, and he doesn't want to encourage that, so he can be a bit hard on him, but whose to say that isn't deserved?

They tend to step on each others toes, and neither really wanted to live this kind of life and sort of had it forced on them unexpectedly, but they cope with that in entirely different ways. Though it's still significantly better for both than it'd be if either had to do it alone, that's for sure

[kh-daybreak-cult-au]

*crawling out of my cave* Hi

I'm planning on starting this up again (hopefully for longer than like a week this time lol), so if y'all have any questions shoot 'em

[persephoneflouwers]

🌷

[japanifornication]

oh man oh man. im always fond of phoenix w a praise kink and just. overwhelmed by love. miles fucking into him while whispering sweet nothings until he’s shaking from his orgasm after orgasm. make this slut cry from being loved and fucked! that one fic you wrote, “late night” was RIGHT up my alley and i swear i go back to it often

rubbing at the bags he can feel setting in beneath his eyes, phoenix has never been more tired in his life. not when he stayed up all night studying to get through law school. not the time he didn't sleep for three days a week before the bar and had to be forced to rest by mia. not when she was murdered, not even when he spent a night in city jail accused of that very murder.

the clop of two pairs of sandals patter into the distance as he watches maya, holding onto pearl's hand like a lifeline, head for their train under the flickering lights of the station. as they board, any remaining energy phoenix had escapes him and he sags back against the wall he's been leaning against, arms crossing over his chest as a sigh slips out of him.

it's hard to watch them go when they've only just got maya back, but with morgan headed to prison, they have a lot of things to sort out back in kurain, like packing up belongings and figuring out where they'll stay when they're there for training.

"it's getting quite late, wright."

he'd almost been falling asleep where he stood and the voice startles him, making him stand up straight and snap to attention. for a few minutes, he'd almost forgotten edgeworth was there. it's easy to forget, when it's quiet—he was dead for an entire year, after all.

"yeah. sorry to keep you waiting. you didn't have to do this, you know." phoenix says it automatically, like it's an obligation, even though he's not quite sure he is sorry after what the prosecutor did.

"i'm aware," is all edgeworth says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and then just briefly gripping at his elbow.

it's almost funny. when phoenix first met the man again on the other side of the courtroom last year, he looked like hell barely warmed over. edgeworth was the one with dark circles around the eyes, a permanent scowl affixed to his face. now, he looks oddly tranquil, if just a bit fatigued, and phoenix is the one who feels like garbage. things can change a lot in a year.

he clears his throat. "well. i won't keep you here any longer. let's get back to the car." he lets edgeworth lead the way back to his car—new since phoenix last saw it during state v. skye—and climbs back into the passenger seat, rattling off his address. it's a wonder he can even remember it in his current state.

it only gets darker as they head back through the city and by the time they make it to phoenix's apartment it's well into the night, not a hint of sun left in the sky. the car idles in the parking lot. neither make a move to leave or encourage the other to do so.

"so are you back living here?" phoenix finally gathers the strength to say. he means is he back residing within l.a. but the way it comes out almost sounds like he's asking if edgeworth is really, truly back from the dead and not just a spirit. "in l.a. i mean, not here obviously," he clarifies, as though there were any confusion whether or not edgeworth lived with phoenix. haha, very funny.

there's a slight squeak of leather as the man's hand shifts on the steering wheel, uncomfortable but not angry. "ah, i've only been back for a few days. i'm in a hotel, currently, but yes, i intend to find a new apartment."

"gotcha," phoenix says with an absent nod, chewing the inside of his mouth. "hey, um. i'm sorry about what i said, about… about you staying dead."

"wright, don't," edgeworth scoffs. "it's too late to take back words we've regretted, if anyone knows that it's me. don't waste your breath."

an exasperated laugh bursts out of the defense attorney. "okay great, because i'm not actually sorry."

edgeworth huffs at that with a slight shake of his head.

"but… do you want to come in for a beer or something? because this has been the longest day of my life and i'm sure even underneath that perfectly logical, stoic exterior, you can agree it's been exhausting." phoenix raises an eyebrow.

"a beer? tch." edgeworth's lip curls in distaste at the idea.

"what, not a beer drinker? i don't keep much in the way of wine or anything but i might have some whiskey," he offers instead.

edgeworth tilts his head, considering the offer with a slow blink. "i'm not sure you can afford my tastes, wright, but i'm intrigued." he unbuckles his seatbelt, indicating he's taken phoenix up on it.

"great." phoenix climbs out of the car and leads the way into his apartment building. he lives on the second floor, and they take the stairs up. it's faster, and he's not going to ask the man to take an elevator. it might have been a year, but he hasn't forgotten everything.

"sorry about the mess," he apologizes as he unlocks his front door. the last few days have been so long—he's been sleeping in his office and almost forgot about how much of a disaster his apartment is. he haphazardly tries to clean up before edgeworth can take in too much of the surroundings, scooping up dishes to bring to the kitchen and stuffing trash in the bin and kicking dirty laundry out of the way.

edgeworth is busy removing his shoes at the door and he manages to get the place looking a little less gross by the time he's done, then stops to take off his own shoes and jacket. he heads into the kitchen to see what he's got as far as alcohol, searching through his cabinets until he finds the bottle of whiskey he promised.

"how do you take it?" he asks.

"neat," comes the reply, edgeworth having followed him into the kitchen. he waits as phoenix pours them each a glass, then takes the bottle himself to inspect it. his eyebrows go up. "perhaps you've come into some fortune in my absence."

staring down into his rocks glass, phoenix tries to give a smile. it comes off weak. "if only. i inherited mia's liquor collection. went through most of it between you choosing death and now, if i'm honest."

adjusting his glass on the counter, edgeworth frowns down into his own drink. "ah. i see. ms. fey had good tastes, then?"

"i think she was gifted a lot of it, i'm honestly not sure." he lifts his glass to his lips, taking a deep swig. it burns on the way down. "sometimes i wonder… if i even knew her that well. if i'm doing any of this right. if she'd be proud of me. after a case like today, i'm not so sure."

"you saved her sister," edgeworth points out, palming his own glass and drinking from it absently. "i imagine that would mean a fair amount to her."

"yeah, i guess so. but i almost pinned a murder on an innocent woman. just feel like i should have figured out it was engarde a lot sooner, you know?" phoenix stands up straight, the tension awkward, and downs the rest of his glass in one go so he can pour himself another.

"i can see your point, though i believe you’re being a bit harsh on yourself. anyone under those circumstances would have struggled. i certainly fared no better, and i wasn’t the one whose loved ones were being held hostage for the majority of that case.” the words are mumbled thoughtfully over the rim of his glass before he takes another drink.

“why are you being so nice to me?”

his question obviously catches edgeworth by surprise, and the man finishes his whiskey before answering. “after hearing you be so honest about what you thought of my absence… i suppose it feels like obligation.”

the thought of any more drinks is immediately abandoned, because in the next moment, phoenix is grabbing edgeworth by that stupid cravat and pulling him close and smashing his mouth against his.

there’s a noise of protest, an initial objection, from edgeworth that seems to be more out of shock than anything, and then edgeworth’s arms are around his waist, crushing him close; he’s kissing phoenix back and he tastes like the whiskey they’ve been drinking and mint—toothpaste? breathmints? something else?—and phoenix sighs almost angrily against his mouth, furious he could have had this so much sooner if not for everything that had happened.

except that then edgeworth stops kissing him, to ask “wright, should i be doing this? surely you’re not drunk after a drink and a half.”

“i’m sober. kiss me, you son of a bitch.”

“it’s a bit rude to speak so poorly of the dead, you know,” he huffs in jest.

“good thing you’re not really dead.” phoenix’s hands fist in his hair as he tugs him back in for another kiss, and it’s all tongue and teeth and desperation, wanton for more.

before either of them knows what has happened, they’re standing in phoenix’s bedroom next to his bed. neither of them is particularly good at kissing and it doesn’t matter, because they’re kissing like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do and it’s driving phoenix insane.

unfortunately, edgeworth seems reluctant to do anything more than that. phoenix keeps trying to move things along—attempting to kiss down his throat, to bite him, to grab at his ass or unbutton his waistcoat—and edgeworth keeps grabbing at his wrists, moving them back to more appropriate places, kissing him like he wants to savor it rather than do anything else.

“just fuck me already,” phoenix finally groans, drinking in the way edgeworth laughs in response. when was the last time he even heard him laugh? not just a condescending chuckle from the other side of the courtroom, but actually laugh like he does now? when they were nine?

his back hits the bed as edgeworth shoves him away roughly. “fine. i’ll give you what it is you’re so desperate for.” he watches as the prosecutor tugs open his nightstand to survey the contents, and apparently finds what he expected to, retrieving the box of condoms from within and setting it atop the surface. “but i’m not doing this without some sort of safe word in place. it’s clear you’re not in a state to be taken at your word.”

“stoplight system,” phoenix replies, without hesitation.

that earns him a raised eyebrow, and for a moment it seems like he might be rejected, but eventually, edgeworth shrugs a shoulder and nods. “i’m familiar. that’s acceptable, can i trust you to actually use it?”

“funny of you to be asking me about trust right now.”

“wright.” there’s an obvious warning tone in his voice. “yeah. yes, i will use it correctly. green means go, red means stop, don’t stop unless i actually say that.”

there’s a hunger underlining edgeworth’s voice when he next speaks that makes all of phoenix’s skin prickle with desire. “alright. get on with it, then. tell me what you want.”

“god, thank you,” phoenix breathes. he sits up and grabs edgeworth by his belt, yanking him forward so he can undo it. “just want you to hold me down, make me take it.”

edgeworth blows out a long breath, but phoenix doesn’t look up, single-minded in his task now as he moves to unbutton the man’s slacks. the zip comes undone with relative ease, but the prosecutor’s shirt is long and held down by stays, partially blocking access to what he wants. it’s dark, and he’s a little drunk, and undoing the smaller buttons here is a bit harder, so he fumbles around with them as he talks. “you know. give it to me hard, don’t hold back, no matter what i say.”

edgeworth sheds his jacket and waistcoat and works his cravat free, discarding them on the side of phoenix’s bed before loosening the buttons of his shirt sleeves to roll them up. like this, phoenix can see the light hair that peppers his arms, usually hidden by clothes or distance across the courtroom or the fact that he thought the man was dead for a year. “is that how you normally prefer it?”

opting not to answer that, phoenix finishes unbuttoning the bottom of edgeworth’s shirt, giving him access to his boxer-briefs beneath. his fingers hook into the waistband and stretch it away from his skin, freeing the arousal steadily growing within and shoving them down as far as he can with the stays still hooked around his thighs.

he leans forward, gently cupping edgeworth's cock in one hand as he trails his lips down the side of it. the skin is so soft under his touch, but he doesn't get even a second to enjoy it; immediately, there's a hand in his hair, forcing his head back and away. he grimaces, baring his incisors but flooding with heat at the simple movement.

"someone's a bit overeager," edgeworth admonishes.

"yeah, well, when you've spent a year fantasizing about something you're positive you'll never get…" he steals a glance up at edgeworth's face, his chest starting to heave even though they haven't even started yet.

the man clenches his jaw, like the reminder hurts, but he feigns it away with a roll of his eyes. it doesn't fool phoenix, but he doesn't call it out. again, phoenix is pushed back to the bed like it's effortless, and edgeworth moves back to the nightstand to retrieve a condom from the box.

phoenix takes the opportunity to undo his own belt and slacks, shimmying them down along with his boxers around his hips. his thighs and hair are already slick with moisture, his dick swollen and begging to be touched.

he doesn't want to bother with the effort of fully undressing, so instead he rolls over while edgeworth applies the condom, ending up bent over the edge of his bed, ready and waiting.

he hears edgeworth spit into his hand, stroke it along his length then feels that hand on him for a brief, thrilling second, but he's already sopping wet, so it's unnecessary.

phoenix scrambles up the bed a little further but before he can really get anywhere, there’s a strong hand on his hip as the body behind him thrusts forward against him. with that one, swift movement, edgeworth is inside him, and he cries out, writhing against the sheets and trying not to just melt into uselessness.

a hand comes down against his shoulder, holding him down just like he'd asked for, but edgeworth leans in close and the other snakes over his mouth, preventing him from further cries as each snap of his hips makes phoenix want to scream. "is this what you wanted?" the man breathes hot and low in his ear.

he can only nod desperately, tears catching in his lashes as that cock rams into his g-spot and makes him quiver.

edgeworth doesn't stop. each thrust comes unbelievably hard, a loud slap of skin echoing through the room, but there's a pause between each one, and phoenix is grateful for that because otherwise he doesn't know how he would breathe. beads of sweat are already forming on the back of his neck, rolling down under the collar of his shirt. he quiets down, just panting against edgeworth’s palm, tasting the salt of his flesh, pushing back into each stroke and closing his eyes to bask in the feeling of him, to know it’s edgeworth pinning him down and spearing him open.

he's slick and needy and hasn't been so close to satisfied in what feels like forever.

he rocks his hips forward instinctively, trying to get friction on his own dick against the bed, but failing. edgeworth huffs out a condescending laugh in his ear. "not enough still? what are you, wright, a dog? must you hump something just to get off?"

phoenix whines at the suggestion but nods again against edgeworth's hand.

"yes?" he sounds mildly surprised, but not put-off. "alright." he straightens for a minute, pulling phoenix up so he can slide a folded pillow between the man's legs—phoenix's head is spinning and he lets himself be maneuvered bonelessly—before pushing him back down into the position they'd been in.

"are you sure this is how you want it, though, wright?" he asks in his ear again as they return to that pace of steady slams. "I'm happy to fuck you as hard as you'd like, but i had something a little different in mind." he slows down further, the thrusts turning into a sensual grind, no longer ramming into him with each one.

a sob leaks out of phoenix and he ruts against the pillow, mumbling against edgeworth's hand. his mouth is freed so he can speak. "please," he gasps. "tell me you're here to stay. that you won't leave again."

an anguished sound chokes out of the prosecutor. "i am not going anywhere, phoenix," he says after a moment of hesitation. there’s an edge to his voice, hurt but on the verge of something almost tender, and phoenix easily needs more.

"just need to feel it. need you to show me you're not going anywhere," phoenix begs. “just prove it to me, fuck me like you mean it.”

"oh, darling, i'm not leaving you." the term of endearment seems to slip out of edgeworth like it’s an accident, but he doesn’t take it back, and it feels like it stabs right through phoenix’s back and pins him to the mattress as much as the man himself is doing physically. edgeworth's hands reposition themselves to the bed on each side of his shoulders for more leverage and his cock grinds deeper into phoenix, forcing a strangled moan out of him. "i'm here to stay, and i'll prove it to you just like this whenever you'd like. that's it, open up for me, i want to hear you."

phoenix doesn't try to hold back his sounds anymore, more moans and whimpers and sobs escaping him in escalating volume as edgeworth fucks him and as he humps against the pillow. edgeworth has picked up the pace again, strokes coming faster, and phoenix's brain is dissolving into a puddle.

"harder, please," he whines.

"i'll give you harder, darling, but i want you to come first. you're doing so well," edgeworth murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of his ear. "i know you can do it. it feels good, doesn't it? to grind on your pillow? be a good boy and come for me, phoenix."

a harsher sob is ripped from his chest. his hips roll against it more desperately even as edgeworth doesn't stop pounding into him. "i'm so close," he whispers shakily.

"i know," edgeworth reassures, lowering himself to further press into phoenix, more grinding into him again which just forces him more into the pillow. "does this help? if i drive you into it?"

"yes, yes, oh, miles…"

"come for me, phoenix, then i'll give you that hard, unrelenting fuck you want, to prove i'm not going anywhere. come on. come for me."

and phoenix does, rocking forward against the pillow one last time and causing his orgasm to explode through him. he clenches around miles and his cock twitches with each pulse and miles is still rolling his hips, forcing him into the pillow, and he can't come down, and he's fully crying.

"good boy," he hears from edgeworth, and the praise is music he never imagined he'd hear. "are you ready for more?"

he hasn't even stopped coming yet, he's not ready for more, but god does he want it anyway. "no," he offers unhelpfully.

"no? color, wright."

"green," phoenix spits, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to the bed where he was accidentally drooling against his comforter.

"good, so let me ask again. are you ready for more?"

having no intention of changing his answer, phoenix repeats himself. "no. it's too much."

he can almost hear the smirk in edgeworth's voice, and is glad they're both on the same page. "and you think i have any intention of stopping simply because it’s too much? how quaint. you can handle more."

another hard slam of his hips has phoenix shaking, pressing his face back into the softness of his comforter to muffle a yelp, but as quickly as it was given, it’s taken away as edgeworth pulls out.

“roll over, wright. i want to see the moment you break,” he’s commanded, and phoenix doesn’t make any rush of moving to do so. edgeworth grabs his shoulder and pulls, rolling him over anyway. hands grab his slacks and yank, and phoenix kicks to at least help get them off, along with his boxers.

arms hook under his knees and in an instant edgeworth is back inside him, making phoenix’s back arch against the mattress. the pillow is still under him, but now it's providing support, and edgeworth is still hitting all the right spots, and he blearily opens his eyes to find the man looking down at him.

the way edgeworth looks at him is almost reverent, quicksilver eyes soft but dilated with pleasure, hair disheveled and hanging in his face, sweat beading on his forehead. it's different from how phoenix imagined it might be, when he thought he was dead. then, he hadn't known this edgeworth so desperately trying to redeem himself. he'd only known the angry, spiteful one, full of loathing for everyone and everything, especially himself and especially phoenix. he'd thought his eyes would be hardened, creased between the eyebrows, a permanent scowl fixed upon his face. he can see a slight divot between his eyebrows, but it looks more in concentration, and there's no scowl.

"miles," he breathes, just a whisper on his breath. he's struggling to even catch it with the force he's being fucked with, knocking the air out of his lungs, but he gulps down another breath and tries again. "m-miles. take off the condom."

a dry laugh huffs out of edgeworth and he hesitates. "are you delusional?"

"i promise it's safe. please…" he's crying again and he hates that he's crying again but he can't stop the tears from leaking down his cheeks. "please. i need you to prove you're not going anywhere. need you to fill me up and make me yours."

again, edgeworth blows out an affected breath, this time much more obviously struggling with the decision. "you're sure?"

"yes, i'm giving you the green light, please, god," he pleads.

"fuck, phoenix." in an instant, he pulls out again, looking down as he uses one hand to attempt to take off the condom. it takes a minute to get it off, but eventually he does, and it gets tossed in the trash beneath the nightstand before the man drives back into phoenix's hot cunt, filling him now with no barrier between them.

there's no way to prevent the flood of tears now, no longer just a trickle but practically a waterfall. he pushes edgeworth's arms away from under his knees to adjust, instead hooking his legs around the man's waist like he can draw him in deeper if he tries hard enough, like he can just pull edgeworth into his body and keep him there forever.

for edgeworth's part, at least, he grips a hand under phoenix's thigh and with a slight grunt helps shift them up onto the bed properly, and then they're chest-to-chest and the prosecutor is kissing down his jawline, tongue delving out to lick up the salt of his tears and god, phoenix is so overwhelmed.

"how long have you been dreaming about this, wright?" that deep, sultry voice mumbles right against his ear.

phoenix answers honestly, and he's not just crying from the overwhelming amount of pleasure anymore. now he's ugly crying, and it's embarrassing, and his hands find the front of edgeworth's shirt and twist in it, holding on to it like a lifeline. "a long time but—but i thought you were dead," he chokes out. he can feel alarm crackle through edgeworth like ice underfoot, but it's too late, they've already plunged through. "i th-thought you were fucking dead, that i'd missed my chance—"

his words are muffled by a kiss, one that's just as desperate and hungry as phoenix feels. he half-sobs, half-moans into it, clumsily attempting to reciprocate as best he can.

"i know. i'm so sorry, phoenix," edgeworth hisses against his mouth when they part for air. his movements have slowed, this thrusts languid but striking deep, and phoenix just encourages him, heels pressing against his ass with each inward stroke. "shh, you're alright. i'm not going anywhere." the words sound like a promise.

another pathetic mewl bleeds out of phoenix, energy sapped from him at the apology. his legs fall from around edgeworth's hips, coming to rest on the bed, because he can't hold them up anymore, and it just spreads him wider, lets the man fuck him deeper. he sniffles and presses his face into edgeworth's shoulder to hide his tear-strewn face.

"there you go, darling. relax. i'll give you what you need. you're being so good for me." edgeworth's breathing is labored and phoenix can feel sweat through the man's shirt.

his hands let go of the front to wrap around his back, crush him closer. it's too slow, too intimate, it's not what he asked for or wanted, but somehow it is what he needed.

the rhythm of edgeworth's thrusts start to falter and suddenly there's a hand on phoenix's jaw, turning his face towards his. "look at me."

phoenix does. the expression on edgeworth's face is so hard to read, but it seems almost close to adoration, or maybe obsession, and a shiver runs down phoenix's spine.

"i'm here, phoenix. because of you."

those six words are phoenix's undoing. his hands claw for purchase against edgeworth's back, fingertips catching in the folds of his shirt as his whole body tenses, pleasure slamming into him like a fucking freight train and forcing an orgasm out of him unlike any other. he feels edgeworth jolt against him and knows the man is coming too, leaving that tangible evidence that he's here, he's alive, he's alive he's alive he's alive, i'm alive.

for the first time since prosecutor miles edgeworth chose death, phoenix wright feels alive.

spent and exhausted, phoenix can't even complain when edgeworth collapses atop him. instead, he hugs him close, albeit weakly, eyes falling shut and just cradling the man against him, reluctant to let him pull out or leave just yet.

when they finally do part god knows how long later, no words are exchanged. edgeworth painstakingly withdraws from inside phoenix with a grimace, then helps him clean up in silence. he doesn't say anything as he removes the rest of his clothing, leaving phoenix to extract the implications from that action himself and disrobe as well, tossing the rest of his clothes to the floor.

they climb back into bed and phoenix finds himself hesitating to get closer until edgeworth draws him in himself, an arm sliding around him possessively.

before phoenix can drift off, he clears his throat and asks hoarsely, "should we… talk about what just happened?"

edgeworth dismisses it with a half-hearted shrug. "if you'd like. in the morning, perhaps?"

fear grips phoenix immediately and he swallows, looking up at the man. "will you still be here? in the morning?"

a long, tired sigh hisses out of edgeworth's chest. "i may have nightmares still, and may not be in bed when you awake. but yes. i will be here, in the morning."

"you promise?"

edgeworth searches his face for understanding. he doesn't seem the type to promise things, and perhaps that's why the response is delayed, but after a long moment, he nods slowly. "i promise."

phoenix buries his face against his chest, and in a few minutes, he's asleep.