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azalawa-scroggs · 5 months ago

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About Eddie Fender and why he was a dick to Miles

I first started this post in response to something, but it got so long I decided against inflicting it on OP. This is very long and very meandering and the form is kinda weird, as a warning. It's also kinda spoilery for Ace Attorney Investigations 2.

When we first start playing AAI2 and are introduced to "Ace Attorney Eddie Fender," it's true he doesn't come across as very likeable. The first thing he says to Miles is basically "Oh, look! Here comes Manfred von Karma," and the game happens three years after the truth about DL-6 came out. That's incredibly low, very petty, cruel even. He does start off as a dick to Miles, unfair on him until he gradually realises he isn't as bad as he thought, and as he starts warming up to Miles we start warming up to him.

But also... I kind of get it.

Like... Imagine you're 19 years old. Your boss just died in a sudden and shocking murder. You inherit the law firm even though you haven't even passed the bar yet. You're grieving as you keep working hard to become an attorney, now without the guidance you used to have. Maybe you even blame yourself a little - after all, you worked on that case too, you were likely there for the trial, you left both Edgeworths to take that elevator by themselves. Had things played out differently you would have been there, too.

Did you think of your boss's son, in the middle of this whirlwind? Probably a little, but you're a 19 year-old law student. You're nowhere near a suitable place in your life to even think about fostering a kid. Besides, Gregory Edgeworth was your boss. Someone you greatly admired and whose death you will never stop mourning, but still just your boss.

(It's unclear how well Eddie knew Miles. Enough for Miles to recognise him instantly, but certainly not as close as Miles and Phoenix were.)

You take it on yourself to continue the work he left behind, to help the clients Gregory can no longer help. For ten years you try your best to uphold the reputation and the values of his firm and name, and every day you witness a little more how corrupt the system really is.

Then, one day, you start hearing about this young new prosecuting upstart. Passed the bar at 20 and already has the legal world in his pocket. Rumours of forged evidence, backstreet deals, manipulated witnesses. Not only is that just like the whole lot of them, the tactics you became so familiar with over the years - no, it sounds painfully, specifically familiar to that one long, drawn-out case, the last one you worked with Gregory. It turns out the young prodigy is the student and protégé of Mr. Perfection himself, the man who never lost a case in thirty-five years, even though he should have lost against you ten years ago if the world was even a little fair. You would hate the boy for that alone, but on top of that he's also the son of the mentor you lost, the son of the man you both used to admire so very much.

And that hurts. That none of Gregory's legacy lived on in his son. That this sweet, kind boy, who Gregory always used to worry about not making any friends, became a parody of all they used to despise.

Perhaps you even get to see him. You catch a glance of him in the courthouse corridor as he passes you by without so much as a nod to acknowledge you, or you stumble upon a picture in the same paper that struck Phoenix Wright so deeply. You see that damn suit. That damn smirk. That damn waggly finger. His features may have something of Gregory but everything in him screams von Karma. He's spent a decade trying to shape himself into him, and it shows.

Prosecutors are a privileged bunch, and the Edgeworth kid grew up into a downright brat. Entitled. Rude. Arrogant. Obsessed with his fucking perfect record. You hear he goes around cutting the salaries of detectives that make a tenth of what he does and insulting the opposing counsel in court. He became the worst of them all, taught by the worst of them all, he is everything Gregory fought against and everything you hate.

Why would you want to associate with that? Why would you ever think he is not perfectly fine where he is, with his cushy office and his cushy sports car and his doubtlessly cushy pay?

A couple years later you hear he's been arrested for murder. Maybe you follow the trial, maybe you only see the headlines after everything, after DL-6 is finally solved. Honestly, that's when you start having a reason to reach out. When, had you been less embittered and jaded by the thanklessness of your job, you might have wondered what it was like for him to grow up in the shadow of his father's murderer. You might have been stricken with compassion and horror at the thought of fifteen years spent in crushing guilt, believing he killed the father he used to love so much. You might have empathised, despite your contempt for von Karma, with how his ward might feel to be so cruelly betrayed, thrice over, by the man who raised him since he was nine, who taught him everything before throwing him away like a piece of used junk.

But you still think of how he was like a son to von Karma, of how he got to spend fifteen years in wealth, following a shiny, easy, corrupt new path while you grieved and desperately tried to keep the pieces of your shared dream together. You think of how uneasy Gregory seemed with the idea of von Karma as a teacher, you think of how eager Miles seemed to follow in his footsteps and how much Gregory would have hated it. You think of the many defendants this boy callously condemned with barely a thought, just like his mentor. Of how he may not have his father's blood on his hands, but with the way he acts you'd think he had his murderer's in his veins. And you really, really don't want to deal with any of that.

You think, somewhat unfairly, that maybe Miles ought to have seen it coming. It's not like it's much of a secret that Manfred von Karma is a piece of shit, and good riddance to him.

Three years later, you actually have to interact with him again. It's been 18 years since you last saw him in his father's shadow, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, back when everything was so simple for the three of you. It's been 3 years since the truth about his oh-so-esteemed mentor was uncovered. He still wears the cravat. His brow is still furrowed, his eyes are still piercing.

But slowly, begrudgingly, you talk to him. You start realising he actually has some honour to him. That he's not really the Demon Prosecutor the papers made him out to be, that maybe you misjudged him a little bit, in you grief-stricken, angry bitterness. That maybe he can be trusted, after all, with his father's legacy.

Why would you think he ever needed saving?

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xhollowfaerie · 4 days ago

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Anticipación

a/n: ok this is by far the craziest one i've written sdufhdsfisdjfsf oh my god im so nervous about postin gthis LMAO please lmk if this was any decent bc i did my best, i was really running out of synonyms for moan/whine/cry etc tags/warnings: demi4demi inexperienced Rookanis, (very slight) soft dom Lucanis, submissive fem Rook, plus sized Rook, praising kink, Lucanis discovers edging, also Lucanis discovering some things abt himself......, squirting + a surprise at the end hehehe

Kore’s moans filled the dining hall, echoing back around Lucanis, only driving him further. Their cold coffees laid long-forgotten by their side, his fingers slowly, audibly sliding in and out of her as she held onto the front of his shirt, foreheads glued together. She was sitting on the table, legs spread apart as he dipped his fingers into her, his other arm steadily holding her waist as she trembled in his grip. He’d always wanted to ravish her in that pink chemise, driving him insane from the very first time he’d seen it on her figure. His eyes flooded with desire, watching her lashes flutter helplessly.

She was panting, inadvertently dragging her nails down the back of his neck, causing a shiver to run all the way through him. His brown eyes were trained on hers, observant, taking in every microexpression on her beautiful, round face, memorizing every freckle. The way the dim light of the fireplace hit her glossy lips imprinted itself into his mind, swallowing back the thought of seeing them wrap around him. He took in a breath to gather his courage before his fingers hit deeper inside her, feeling her suddenly clamp down around them.

“Lucanis!” Rook whined, arching her back. Fuck, she was so close-

He widened his eyes and gingerly pulled his fingers out, watching her carefully. “Lo siento, mi amor… I did not mean to hurt you.” Rook looked at him through half-parted eyelids, feverishly breathing against him, voice meek. “N-No… y-you, didn’t, I almost…”

Oh.

He flushed, embarrassed by his own lack of expertise. “I-I, I thought-”

She painfully clenched around the emptiness inside her, running her hands over his neck. Kore felt the overwhelming wetness between her legs drip down her thighs. Her pink nails held onto the lapels of his shirt, mouthing her words against his lips.

“Please.”

He closed the space between their mouths, lovingly kissing her as he slid his middle and index finger back inside - after she assured him many times that no, two were not too much, even though it had taken a bit of trial and error to figure out the best ones for the job - and she moaned into their kiss, desperately grabbing his face and bucking her hips into his hand as she started shaking.

“Lucanis, Lucanis-!”

His ears picked up a noise outside, making his heart stop dead inside his chest. He moved the hand from her waist lower, pulling her closer to the edge of the table by her ass in an attempt to cover how exposed it was, horrified that Davrin or whoever else was just about to walk in - also halting his fingers inside her.

Kore mewled in protest, collapsing her head against his shoulder as she breathed heavily.

“P-Please, L-Lucanis… you’re killing me…”

He mentally cursed himself, but something caught his attention; they had only made love a couple of times before, and while she always cried for him so sweetly - the way she said his name made it very hard to focus - he’d never seen her quite this worked up.

Almost as if…

Humming, he moved his lips to the particular spot on her neck that made her squeal, feeling her thighs tremble as he moved inside her again, gently curling his digits and quickening his pace - she shrieked and grasped a handful of his hair, her moans growing louder and louder.

“L-LUCA-NIS-”

He stopped again, smiling against her neck as she trembled from head to toe, breath hitching. The way she whined pulled at his heartstrings, but the intense influence over her was bringing something out in him that he hadn’t previously considered - that something he used in his profession could be so easily applied to pleasing her, more than he’d ever expected.

He pulled away just enough to watch her, the deliciously needy expression on her face, the blush over her ample chest and shoulders, the drops of sweat running down her forehead; the very light smears of makeup under her eyes.

Spite growled behind him, eagerly watching Kore.

“Nnnngh, Lucanis! Fill her already! I. Need. Her.”

They had convened (well, she had agreed for his sake- truthfully, she was not at all averse to the idea…) that no, Spite will not be coming out while they were intimate with each-other; frankly, after the things Lucanis had heard him say about her (the things he wanted to do to her), he was horrified of letting Spite out; not yet, at least. They’d barely begun their romance, and he was not about to let his uncontrollable demon lay a finger on his Rook.

“Ours!” Spite snarled at him, but Lucanis was easily distracted again as Kore leaned back, grabbing a hold of his tie to pull him towards her as she rolled her head, impatiently tightening around him until he felt his fingers go numb. Those eyes, the sweet, innocent expression he adored so, replaced by an uncontrollable lust, the gaze of a siren eating him alive.

Fuck, he wanted to please her until she was sick of him.

Cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, hair lighty tousled… she tugged on his tie again, biting into her lip.

“P-Plea-se?” Her voice wavered, and it was an almost impossible task for him to not just give in; but he was, quite frankly, desperate to see more of the insatiable side of her, the complete trust she had in him, the absolute control she surrendered to the hands of a trained killer.

A primal desire to dishevel her further rose inside Lucanis as he very tentatively started pulling his fingers apart inside her, making her gasp. Pleased with her reaction, he leaned in closer, his hand tracing the fullness of her shapes as he whispered in her ear.

“Beautiful, Rook” his voice rumbled lowly; the elf squirmed as her walls collapsed around his fingers, tugging on his tie more decisively than before. Lucanis very quickly discovered that he really, really enjoyed the feeling of his tie tightening around his neck, watching his elven lover tug him around as she pleased.

“Vhenan…” she croaked in response, shyly glancing away as her lips trembled. He felt her hands shake, urging him to angle his digits better and gently push them further in, inhaling sharply when she threw an arm around his neck, almost straddling him as she hung off the edge of the table.

“Oh, oh, Gods, Lucanis!-”

Swiftly, but carefully, he pulled his fingers out again, hearing her voice break into a frantic sob. Her chest rose and fell erratically. He kissed her ear, her cheek, along her neck and beneath her chin, circling his lips to the other side of her head. “You’re doing so well, my rose.”

His words made her whimper; she almost came from his voice alone, reeling from his praise, barely holding herself steady as more beads of sweat rolled down her skin; Lucanis watched as they beautifully rolled down the curve of her chest before disappearing in her generous cleavage, feeling his hands grow restless. Agile, skilled - the hands of an assassin. Cool, controlled, calculated. Twitching in anticipation.

Her gaze was fully bound to him, entranced; honestly, the pleasure was so intense, she was unsure if she was actually awake or if this was one of her many dreams of him - her heart was rattling so violently inside her ribs, she thought it would burst at any moment - especially as she watched him put his fingers in his mouth, relishing the taste of her as he licked them clean. She stopped breathing, lips agape - the smallest trickle of drool lingering around the corners of her mouth; without a second thought, he softly wiped her lips, tilting her head back.

“I must admit… I’m concerned” he whispered, holding her like that as he analyzed her, “concerned that I might grow much too addicted to seeing you like this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and squeaked in embarrassment, trying to turn away; he gingerly took her hands and motioned for her to wrap her arms around his neck, moving his own down her wide hips, the thickness of her thighs, before finally reaching behind her, grasping her ass and lifting her with so much ease, it made her heart flutter. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively, feeling his hardness brush up against her very damp core as she let out a long, sultry sigh.

He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against her; it barely took more than a few moments for her wetness to permeate the fabric of his pants, easing the friction between them. She tightened her grip on him, pressing their chests together; he felt the aggressiveness of her heartbeat colliding with his, the way she pulsated against him with lust - and almost lost himself.

“Please… Vhehan…” she pleaded, threading her fingers in his hair as she placed kisses over his face, covering his breathtaking features in a pink, shimmering shade of lipstick in the shape of her lips. He smiled between her pecks, moving his hips against her again ever so slightly. His voice was almost teasing, murmuring intimately. “Do you want me to stop?”

She didn’t answer, burying her face in his neck as he grinded against her again, grasping his shoulders and digging her pretty nails into him so much it almost pierced him through his shirt.

Maker, did that feel - incredible.

He wanted - needed her to scratch him more.

“Should I help you finish, mi vida?” He lulled into her ear, preemptively smirking as he waited for her answer. “N-not…yet…” Kore bashfully glanced at him, surprised by the confidence he exuded as he placed her back on the table and guided his hand back between her legs, slicking his fingers in her juices with one, quick sweep that made her shudder. “Mm… I thought so.”

He slowly laid her down on the table, supporting himself with one arm as he curiously explored the sweetness between her legs; lovingly watching her squirm, gasp, contort under his touch. “Eres mi vida, mi mundo, mi todo (You are my life, my world, my everything)” he purred against her flesh, feeling her grasp onto him for dear life. “Eres mi alegria, la mujer de mis sueños. (You are my joy, the woman of my dreams.)” His voice only seemed to err her further, so he kept talking. The unabated huskiness of his voice rattled her to her core. "Quiero ver como mi Rosalina se deshace para mí. (I want to see how my beautiful rose comes undone for me."

Her thighs trembled violently as he brought her close to the edge, squeezing his sides with more strength than most would give her credit for. He moved so he could hold her thigh up with one hand, pushing her leg back and exposing her to him fully as she cried out in shame, feeling his thumb agonizingly circle her.

“Sathan (Please), Lucanis!” Kore wailed, feeling a flurry building inside her so violently it almost scared her. A heat unlike any other, a pressure threatening to spill at any moment. She brought a hand to her mouth and helplessly bit into it to stifle her screams, curving her spine so much her back lifted off the wooden surface, her chest spilling out of the pink satin of her chemise.

The sheer self-control it took for Lucanis to not sheathe himself inside her then and there…

The dining room was a lewd mess of sounds; her wetness, her panting, the creaking of the table as she struggled atop; not to mention the sheer magnitude of her broken voice as she squealed and mewled for him uncontrollably, chanting his voice in between elven pet names and implorations.

“Mierda, I want to make you sing like this for me forever.” The look on his face was one of absolute focus as he drank her depravity in, lowering himself to rest his forehead in between her chest, taking a deep breath in. The scent of her threatened to make him come undone, too, overstimulated by her hoarse cries, her tantalizing appearance, her slickness on his pants and the dull ache beginning to set into his wrist - one he immediately tossed to the back of his mind as he satisfied his Rook.

Her skin, her sweat, her perfume, his scent on her intensified the yearning in his hands, finally sliding his fingers back inside her, hooking them deeply into her core as he kept his thumb caressing her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Kore got to take a single breath into her lungs before she saw white; she might have even passed out for a second as she vehemently coiled around Lucanis, thrashing under him with a high-pitched prayer of his name.

His eyes widened in surprise as a flood of liquid met his hand, squirting all over his fingers and palm, over the hem of his sleeve, the front of his expensive shirt and all over her thighs; that, and the way she twisted and shrieked in utter pleasure while burying his face in her chest, pulling his hair. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, feeling an increasingly insatiable need gnawing him alive.

He was so hard it hurt - and despite him usually being able to ignore it, this time, his arousal for her was almost unbearable.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan…” Kore panted deeply, feeling his face lift back up to hers. He kissed her, trembling fingers cupping his face as she twitched under him, intricately defensiveless.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan” he responded, lacing the Elven confession with his irresistible Antivan accent. She let out a groan, feeling herself throbbing still, jittery and breathless. “Te amo con todo mi ser (I love you with all of me)” Rook whispered, trailing her fingers down his jaw and neck, feeling him shiver. “You are a dream come true. My safe haven.”

Her eyes slid to a close, clinging to him; he more than happily obliged, rolling them over so she could rest on top of him, cradling her sweetly, holding her tight as he kissed her forehead, brushing the beautiful length of her pink hair with his fingers. “Look who’s talking” he murmured, leaning his head back to rest against the table. He adored the feeling of her in his arms…

And Spite, well, Spite found it much harder to dismiss the overpowering arousal coursing through him.

Lucanis tried to part his lips to warn her as he felt his consciousness slip - instead, his eyes overturned with a eerily incandescent shade of purple, trailing his hands hungrily over Kore’s body. A growl dragged itself out of his throat, his hands closing around her ample chest, making her weakly squirm as he played with her breasts. “Mercy, Lucanis…”

He bucked his hips up against her ass, reaching a hand between her legs and wrapping the other around her throat, baring his teeth.

“Rosalina. I. Missed you. Need you. So. So. Badly.”

“S-Spite?!”

“Nngh. Yes…”

She squealed as his grip on her throat tightened, shivering incessantly as he rubbed her clit - fuck, fuck, fuck, she was still so sensitive, she might come again right away if he doesn’t stop - his touch contrasting aggressively with her Crow’s - her demon was rough, impatient.

Starving.

Kore felt his lips curving deviously against her ear, melting a little too easily into his possessiveness… oh, Gods, she was as horrified as she was excited.

His hot breath tickled her, feeling the dam inside her close to breaking again as he spoke.

“Finally. Spite’s turn.”

#yeah idk how to tell you Lucanis but trust me bro NOBODY was going near that fucking building SJDFNSDJFSNDFJSJ #oh mygod im sweating posting this #DID I COOK? OR DID I BURN IT? AAAAAA I CANT TELLLLL #i thought it was pretty hot in my head but idk if it translated well on paper fml #sorry if lucanis is insanely ooc i tried really hard to keep him in character #dragon age #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #rook datv #named rook #datv #spite dellamorte #spookanis #dragon age fanfiction #my writing #{rookanis chapter}#{rookanis drabbles}

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