#incorporating this into my brain

[gleniferskydays]

I should have been drawing edgelord dark souls guys the whole time this dude's fun as hell

[airoarts]

"yellowfang? what are you doing in bluestars den? well its none of my business" -fireheart, probably

[ID: a digital painting of Bluestar and Yellowfang, two battle-scarred gray cats, from Warrior Cats. They are cuddling in loaf positions in a den with sunlight streaming in, looking towards the entrance with slight smirks. The image is drawn in a semi-realistic art style with soft colors and shading. End ID]

[diz-eaze]

Imagine: modern yandere Scaramouche but instead of being a Nepo baby he's a broke baby and you're the rich one.

broke boy Scara banging his head against the wall when his old phone finally gives up on him. He's experiencing very heavy internet withdrawal cause he haven't checked your Instagram for 2 hours now.

Broke boy Scara trying to give you give you gifts but you either already own it or you have an even better version of the gift (He's going to cry himself to sleep tonight because you must think he's a cheep scape)

broke boy Scara wanting to go out to lunch with you but the restaurants you pick are always out of his budget so you have to pay for his meals (even though he insist he's okay with just watching you eat like the little freak he is)

broke boy Scara crying and pulling his hair off his scalp because he's forced to drop out of college cause he failed all his classes (he was too busy stalking you) and now he can't be with you anymore.

broke boy Scara feeling elated when you agreed to let him stay with you until he can get himself back on his feet and enroll again (he's never gonna leave you)

; this is a stroke of genius omfggggg,,,, broke boy scara,,,, BROKE BOY SCARA !!!!!! his 5GB worth of load data runs out one day while he's stalking your account, and his will to live dims out just like that 😭😭 thinking of this concept with a preppy, kind rich girl teehee

; yandere, not proofread i wrote this in one go, female (y/n), popular girl x loserboy trope omg,,, referred to as scara narratively but called kunikuzushi in dialogue like once.

i think the reason why broke boy scara came to be is because he ran away from his home to escape his emotionally neglectful mother (albeit she's in the process of grieving her twin sister, but it doesn't justify her actions) and sister as soon as he turned 18. he swiped his legal documents, ransacked any cash lying around, applied for a scholarship to a state university, and booked it. in this au, he never really encountered or met nahida at all.

he lives in a cramped one-bedroom apartment near the state university that accepted his scholarship application to save money. after all, the cash he took won't last him forever. having a lackluster resume is hard, he has no prior job experience so he can't apply for any decent paying ones at the moment. for now, scara settles on taking a part-time job as a convenience store cashier located on the same street as his apartment building.

before his first semester even begins, scara lives a monotonous life. he wakes up, eats a simple breakfast, advance studies to maintain his scholarship, goes to his part-time job, goes home, hangs out in his tiny balcony, and goes to sleep. he can't afford a laptop right now so he can't really game. all he has to pass time is his four-year-old phone. money is tight, but the elation of having freedom for the first time outweighs his worries.

the life he has right now isn't much, but it's undoubtedly his.

prior to meeting (y/n), broke boy scara had an idgaf mentality regarding his financial situation. it could be worse! he could have been on the streets homeless but he isn't - and that makes him grateful enough. sure, he doesn't have wi-fi, but that's not something weekly load can't fix. and maybe he doesn't have full, hearty meals every single day - but isn't that the average experience of a college student? gucci bags, caviar, diamond-encrusted earrings, etc., are luxuries for a reason! he doesn't need any of that nor is he tempted to.

predictably, his tune changes after your first meeting with him.

scara had to pick up his jaw from the floor because the whiplash of social difference he experienced after he took one step inside his university campus was jarring. of course, what did he expect? it's a state university, after all! there was no way that the place wouldn't be crawling with nepo babies and children of the country's politicians, all with dirty money paying for the full price of the hefty tuition fees.

you're one of them.

standing tall and proud with perfectly done hair, sunglasses protecting your delicate eyes from the harsh sunlight that comes with dreadful morning classes. dainty hands that have never known labour are decorated with rings topped with stones that he can't even identify. pierced ears adorned with bangle hoops made from gold, all while dressed in chanel and Burberry from top to bottom and finished off with jimmy choo heels. you are pretty, unfairly so.

you're surrounded by two other girls that are dressed in similar splendor, all smiles and giggles as you walk toward your first class.

money... talks.

to his surprise, scaramouche meets you again, as it turns out you share the same first period as him. he eyes the open seat next to you, debating if he should bite the bullet. his hesitation must be glaringly obvious as your eyes flit up to meet his. he flinches.

your nose scrunches up as you giggle, your bracelet-laden hand pats the seat as if to entice him. "come sit, i don't bite!"

he cautiously moves around your designer bag resting on the lecture room's floor, and even narrowly avoids stepping onto a gucci shopping bag just behind - it would be a great misfortune if he got himself into debt on the first day of his college semester like those kdramas he watched.

scaramouche sits up straight and keeps his hands to himself while waiting for the professor to arrive. silence wafts though the air, though he can't help but sneak glances at what exactly you were writing down on your ipad - he's reluctant to make conversation, still wary if you'd be offended at the prospect of a brokie like him (disregarding the fact that you were the one who invited him to sit).

and you seem content to be left to your own devices, so... he lets it be.

it isn't until the end of the lecture did you actually talk to him. amidst him picking up his slingbag to go to his next class, halfway through the room, a distinct voice calls out,

"hey, indigo-head!"

scaramouche freezes, his foot stilling in mid-air as he slowly turns around, unsure if he was the indigo-head you were referring to. he dumbly points to himself, and you nod enthusiastically, even giving him a big thumbs up for good measure.

he tries his best to still his accelerating beating heart.

"what's up?" he asks once you're near him, trying to play it cool.

"just wanted to say hi and introduce myself! my name's (y/n)," you reach out to dramatically shake his hands in exaggerated motions, and he hopes you don't feel the sweat that has built up in his palms.

"oh, guess you can call me... kunikuzushi. but just shorten it to kuni if you want," he shrugs, looking anywhere but you.

"got it, got it!" you let go of his hands, and the loss of your touch stings for some reason. "sorry to hold you up on your next class, see you around!"

"yeah, sure." scara cooly nods, watching you walk ahead of him until your figure is swallowed by the sea of students bustling around.

he doesn't want to admit it, but you leave disappointment in your wake. he was hoping for something more - like an offer of friendship, not an obligatory introduction of names. but perhaps that was his wishful thinking speaking - it's unrealistic to hope that would happen, you seemed to be surrounded with more than enough friends anyway.

you, with your perfectly done nails and easy confidence - evident of how you never had to experience insecurity or worry growing up, because you yourself are the person most people wanted to be.

right, right... why would you want to be friends with someone like him? realistically speaking, you're probably no different from those whiny, spoiled brats with shallow personalities. what a joke.

hah, maybe he really should lay off the kdramas.

a box of chocolate sits atop of his self-chosen desk the next time enters the class he shares with you. it screams wealth from the packaging alone, accompanied by a european-sounding brand name, and is that real gold?

"it's for you," your voice cuts through his inner monologue, and scaramouche looks up with indigo eyes wide in disbelief.

"what?"

you blink once, "i said, it's for you?"

"no, i heard you right the first time", scaramouche can't help but roll his eyes, "i meant - what for?"

"oh! it's nothing much, just a peace offering. i mean, you're my desk neighbour now, right? i don't know what you like but my dad got those chocolates from his trip back in belgium! heard it was custom-made by a renowned chocolatier or something." you smile, eyes urging him to try it.

scaramouche blinks, hesitant. "i hate sweets."

you gawk in disappointment before going back to being easy-going. "it's okay! you can just give it to your siblings or throw it away! as for my peace offering... hmm."

you snap your fingers and ask him, "what do you like?"

he frowns, "what?"

"let's go shopping after your classes ends, i'll take you wherever you want!" you excitedly explain, decorated soft hands grabbing his callous ones. "my treat!"

scaramouche stutters then, pink dusting his ears, "y-...you don't need to all this, are you insane?"

but doing all of this for him... he struggles to fight back the smile threatening to break through his face.

you shake your head vehemently, still holding onto his hands, "it's no matter for me, so don't worry! i use my dad's credit card, after all!"

reality crashes down on him... right, this is probably nothing for rich kids like you. spare change, even. going around, doing acts of kindness using daddy's card... you'd probably do this 'peace offering' regardless if he weren't seated next to you - that this is just how you are as a person. you're not doing this because of him specifically.

and that thought stings. it eats him up more than he'd like to admit.

still, he agrees. he tells you he likes to play video games in his spare time (a lie, he doesn't have the means to do so).

you gift him a ps5 in turn.

and the wealth and social discrepancy between the two of you makes it even more apparent to him. he goes to his bed that night with thoughts of 'what-if's.

by the time the second semester of university hits, scaramouche's routine have greatly been altered - all thanks to your eventual friendship with him, of course.

nowadays, he obsesses with fervor. he barely even touches the ps5 you gave him. he barely touches the things you gift him in general.

he views them as something sacred. to be touched by him is sin.

the first thing he does after waking up is opening his phone to look at your instagram account, with your wealth there's no doubt that you've probably added a new story pertaining to an impulsive purchase or impromptu getaway. next up is twitter, checking to see if your following and followers are the same or decreased/increased.

every day he worries that you might be hiding a secret boyfriend from him. someone who is able to stand with you on a podium - someone who matches you not only in terms of wealth but in extrovert nature as well. scaramouche thinks he'd die the day he finds out you've fallen for someone that isn't him.

he eats breakfast soon after, the taste bland and lacking flavor. not because of the ingredients he used but because he's not eating with you. scaramouche finds that life with you not around is boring and dull. once he's done eating, he puts the dishes in the sink to wash.

he showers, dresses up, and exits his small apartment. it's only when he's a street away from the campus does his blood start buzzing in excitement. it's only then does scaramouche start to feel alive.

sometimes, if he's lucky, scaramouche will encounter you walking in the open fields and he'll speed up his pace just so you both can enter the lecture room together. you, with long acrylic nails that probably costed more than his monthly rent, would playfully pinch him in greeting. he has to push down the shiver of delight that crawls up his spine every time.

the bad days happen when he wakes up late, indigo hues heavy with eyebags, and movements tinged with fatigue. it's rare, but sometimes he wakes up late because he was busy thinking about you the night before. and when he's late, there's a good chance that the lecture room is already packed and his self-assigned seat next to you is already taken by someone else.

he hates it when it happens.

lunch break is a gamble for him, sometimes you're spending it with your other wealthy friends so he's left eating alone in the campus cafeteria. sometimes, you plead and beg with him to let you treat him to some high-end restaurant that's 30 minutes away from campus. in the beginning, he strongly refused out of a sense of embarrassment. but now, his raw need to constantly be around you is stronger than any shame he can possibly feel.

during your lunch breaks spent with him, scaramouche can't help but hope that the people around you two thinks that you're a couple. it happened once, during him accompanying you on a shopping trip and the words still rolls around in his mind.

boyfriend.

he wishes.

after lunch, he drives the both of you back to campus (you used to have a designated driver, but scaramouche soon offered to drive instead) using your car. you go on your separate ways, different classes and all. with you gone, the world loses its color once more.

he releases a sigh at that.

after classes, scaramouche walks several blocks to his part-time job. it's night by the time he returns to his apartment, body utterly tired. still, he pulls out his phone to check on your accounts once more.

he smiles when he sees himself in your story post.

scaramouches eats his measly dinner, eyes raving at the gifts from you that he accumulated while he chews. he still ponders on how he can pay you back on your generosity. what can you give to someone who has everything?

he settles into his twin-sized bed. he wonder then, how can he seize control of your life that's so above his? what leverage can he pull for him to be yours?

scaramouche closes his eyes, letting the sleep take hold of his mind.

for now, he'll gladly play along as your university friend.

[matutito]

cant think of a caption

commissions info

[thus-it-is-proclaimed]

God but think about the whiplash Phoenix experiences between Miles and Dahlia.

When it’s said and done, and whenever they do finally cut the shit and get together, him being in the midst of feelings and it makes him scared.

Why wouldn’t it? To our knowledge he never has another serious partner (though Dahlia wasn’t exactly a serious one, it can be argued Phoenix in his Young Dumb Obsessiveness absolutely felt like it was) between her and the idea he does get together with Miles. (Kristoph we will put aside for terms of discussion.)

But to imagine an older, more jaded Phoenix who is looking at Miles Edgeworth and feeling that old swell of absurdly strong feelings. The echo of his tendency for reckless devotion, for putting the people around him on a pedestal, the all encompassing love he has inside his heart. Imagining that he feels that swooping sensation before the plummet into immersion and it. Scares the SHIT out of him.

Because realistically? He has almost only ever been hurt by this pattern. He must know it’s unhealthy and dangerous, even on a subconscious level. And despite all he has been through, it’s still there. He can still feel it.

Phoenix Wright, loving Miles so much it hurts, being for once absolutely terrified that it will all come to crash down on him again. He was almost killed, framed, and injured by Dahlia while she was alive. She came back to literally haunt him and cause havoc on his life, threatening those he loves, resulting in the situation that sent him falling through a burning bridge in effort to save his family. Because his ability to LOVE. His willingness to sacrifice everything to protect the people he clings to around him.

Just thinking of this realization, and how Miles can meet it not as a savior or a saint, but proof that even those who have hurt Phoenix at some points could still be eventually trusted with his heart. Miles, who goes through such an arc of growth and maturity, at a point he can promise Phoenix to take care with his feelings. To be able to be trusted, and trust in turn. That though they may argue, may hurt one another, at the end of the day Miles is not another devastating chapter in Phoenix’s list of reasons to never allow himself to show his full heart to another.

He is proof that Phoenix can trust someone who knows of this tendency. Who won’t use it to manipulate or gut him. Who doesn’t secretly despise every breath he takes. Maya and Pearl and Trucy and Apollo and Athena are all people in Phoenix’s growing family, who stick around and support.

But Miles Edgeworth has seen Phoenix through hell, tribulation, and devastating lows on both sides. He knows Phoenix has such intense depth of feeling. And if they come together into a relationship, Miles taking this onboard and loving Phoenix for it. His passion and kindness and selflessness and drive.

[bunnieswithknives]

CHECK OUT THIS FIC @foolish-rat WROTE FOR MY NATURE AU!!!!

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[little2nerdy]

saw this post by @moonsnqil and had to write something, disclaimer:  i wrote this while sitting through a sexology lecture so take the quality with a grain of salt.

----

Neil was exhausted. 

He had been tired before. On the run with his mother, during his 16-hour days at Evermore, when he was recovering from his stint in Baltimore, after a game, during finals season. Being tired wasn’t new. But this was different.

The exhaustion. The heaviness in his limbs and the fog in his brain. For someone who had the requirement of constant awareness beat into him, he had been increasingly unable to keep himself tuned into what was going on, and the motivation to care about his surroundings was lacking. 

After months of throwing himself into practices, developing new drills with Kevin at night practices, co-captain responsibilities, runs every morning, and socializing with the upperclassmen, he was becoming keenly aware of how tired even the little things were making him. He was slowing down.

His usually easy homework took days instead of hours, he was bumping into people in hallways, leaving movie nights with the team to go to bed early, the walks from the math building to Fox Tower took ten minutes longer than they ever had.

At first he thought he was getting sick. He’d gone to Abby and told her she'd listened to him list his symptoms, her lips turning down in the corners, as she looked at him with not unfamiliar concern for his well-being. But she’d taken his temperature and asked him the standard questions and sent him to the student health center for a round of uncomfortable swabs to test for common campus plagues. But he was fine, medically, so he kept going. For a while, at least.

Except those little things turned into bigger things. He was missing drills and tripping over his own feet at practice, he was sleeping through his alarms, nodding off in crowded classrooms, not having the energy for runs in the morning, wishing they didn't have a game on a Friday night. Which turned into skipping his morning class. Skipping lift. Then skipping his afternoon classes. Skipping practice. And night practice.

The fatigue was consuming, eating him from the inside out, scooping out everything he’d ever known and filling it with concrete, weighing down his limbs, locking words and actions out of his reach. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to get through to tomorrow. There was nothing to run from or run to, there was only him right now and cavernous freedom that he stood at the edge of, and fleetingly he thought that was the most frightening thing he had ever faced. 

----

Andrew had seen it coming. He saw the shift in Neil after the deal with the Moriayama’s had been made. Neil had been on the run his entire life. He’d been expecting to die. To have the possibility of a long, relatively safe, life laid out in front of him was something he’d never even contemplated. He had watched as Neil threw himself into anything and everything after the season ended.

He noticed the multiple runs a day, the calls with Dan about how they wanted to do things in the fall, the increase in obnoxious drill development talks between him and Kevin. He saw the effort he put in with the new recruits and the too much thought he put into his schedule. But he also saw the bags under Neil’s blue eyes, the napping without meaning to, the lack of quick reactions and spatial awareness on the court. 

“It's not uncommon,” Bee had said after he’d inadvertently spent the first fifteen minutes of his session giving her the lowdown on Neil’s declining state and his…concern… that a crash was imminent when she’d asked how the week had been. “Neil has been in a constant state of stress his entire life. But he was permitted to make a life for himself here among your team and as Neil Josten the person, not just a throwaway identity. His body can sense that shift. It’s trying to play catch up for years of trauma that he’s never had the time or space to deal with. Both mentally and physically.”

So when Neil didn’t move from bed Monday morning when his alarm went off, Andrew knew it was all coming to a head. He watched from his spot in the window as Neil lay in his bunk, unmoving, quiet except for hitching breaths that interrupted the shallow expansion of his lungs every few minutes. He watched as an hour passed. And then two. He stood to pull a hoodie and Neil’s favorite annoyingly orange sweats from their dresser, stacking them on the counter in the bathroom before he made his way to stand at the edge of Neil’s bed. 

“Neil.” He got no response except for a slight stilling of the sheets as Neil’s breath settled. “Get up. Go to the bathroom.” He watched as Neil very slowly rolled over, eyes squinted against the brightness of the window but made no further move to get up. Blue eyes tracked Andrew as he squatted so they were eye level. He reached a hand out and hovered it over Neil’s unruly curls. A scared hand appeared from under the blanket and brought Andrew’s fingers to his hair.

A few minutes of just breathing passed between them, Andrew’s fingers slowly untangling the rat’s nest that had formed on Neil’s head. “Neil.” He tugged at the strands in his fingers. Neil took a deep breath and pushed himself to sitting. Andrew held out both his hands and Neil took them so he could be pulled up. They stood mirroring each other, Neil leaning against the frame of the bunks, fatigue blanketing his frame.

“Go to the bathroom. Take a shower.” Neil nodded, moving towards the bathroom. As soon as the door closed and the shower turned on, Andrew stripped the bed and remade it. He went to the kitchen, he grabbed one of the stupid protein bars that Kevin had gotten Neil hooked on and filled Neil’s water bottle. He sat at the edge of the bed, waiting.

When Neil reappeared he somehow looked even more exhausted than he had before. Eyes empty of their usual spark, wet curls dampening the hood he’d pulled up like a protective barrier. Andrew pushed the opened bar into his hands and watched as Neil mechanically chewed his way through it, reaching for his water bottle when he was done.

Satisfied with the modicum of care he’d been allowed to push on Neil, he let him curl up under the sheets once more. Neil grabbed Andrew’s sleeve as he went to move away and tugged lightly. His eyes, on the verge of closing, flicked to the end of the bed.

Andrew nodded and Neil released his sleeve, letting Andrew slide onto the foot of the bed after grabbing his book, settling a hand on Neil’s ankle through the plush blanket Matt had gifted him. He watched as Neil’s breathing settled once more and he fell back into a stillness that Andrew had never seen from him, even in sleep. 

Hours later, when Kevin returned to the dorm, he stood in the doorway, staring for a few seconds before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“No.” Andrew’s voice was quiet but sharp. He stood from his spot at the end of the bed slowly, he knew the sleep that Neil was currently getting was the kind that shouldn’t be disturbed. He forced Kevin out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, pulling the door shut behind him. 

“He needs to come to practice. The season is starting to pick up and he can’t afford to sit out. He’s co-captain for Christ’s sake.”

“He needs this. Talk to Wymack and Winfield. They will agree with me.” Kevin glared at him before pulling out his phone and walking away. A few minutes later he came back, scowl firmly in place. 

“So?” The glare Kevin sent him was pathetic. 

“Abby says he should sit out for as long as he needs.” Andrew nodded, turning back to the bedroom, leaving a grumbling Kevin in his wake.

----

The dorm felt like a crypt, dark and eerily silent. Coaxing Neil out of bed for anything was a process, getting him to eat was harder. Neil hadn’t spoken a word, sleeping almost constantly, or just curled up staring unseeing at the wall. Despite the upperclassmen still being wary of Andrew, they all came to him to ask how they could help.

As much as Andrew was loath to admit, they all cared for Neil and he knew that he couldn’t deal with this completely alone. Abby and Wymack dealt with Neil's professors, Bee offered Andrew an outlet for his concerns and offered to speak with Neil when he finally made it through this stage, though that seemed unlikely to occur.

The upperclassmen, along with Andrew's group, worked out their schedules and took on Neil in shifts, appearing at the door when Andrew had class or an appointment with Bee or just needed a break. Neil was never alone. It settled something in Andrew that he didn't realize had been restless since Neil fell into this state of limbo. 

They all just sat sentinel keeping watch when he was asleep but when he was awake they all filled the heavy silence in their own unique ways. Allison came with stacks of fashion magazines from her merchandising class, circling things she would want to see Neil in and looking up tips for how to fix dye damage and take care of curls, a mission that she and Dan had been co-conspirators in since Neil let Allison cut his hair at the end of the season.

Matt came and sat silently with Neil, and besides Andrew was the most successful at getting him to take care of himself. Dan kept him updated on the team despite Neil's lack of response or input, and Kevin was a verbal flood of anything exy whenever he appeared in the dorms.

Renee kept the fridge stocked with fresh fruit and other foods she knew Neil liked. Even Aaron brought Neil’s notes from their shared science class. Nicky fell quickly into his parent mode that he'd been in when he'd first taken in Aaron and Andrew. Doing laundry and cleaning, but also making sure that even if Neil wouldn't respond, the silence was filled at least for a little bit. 

A week of rotating shifts passed as Neil's body tried to catch up on almost twenty years of missed sleep and repair his relationship with the concept of living past the age of 19. Thankfully, they were on a bye this week, no game, no travel. On Saturday evening, Andrew sat with his back against the wall working through another shitty mystery novel when Neil spoke for the first time.

He had been curled up around Andrew, hands grasping the hem of his pullover. Neil’s voice was rough from disuse and the tears that everyone had seen Neil shedding periodically but never addressed. It was so quiet that if Andrew hadn’t been painfully aware of Neil’s every move this week he would’ve missed it. 

“Thank you.”

[snezus-christ-risen]

I love the idea of someone with the kink who teases their partner by interrupting their sneezes, because they think it’s cute how disgruntled they get when they lose them. Then, to show how “sorry” they are, they help them induce to relieve that stuck sneeze feeling, almost as if getting to be the one in charge of when and how they sneeze had been their plan all along.

[angryricepudding]

Pretty sure at this point the Scooby Doo gang is canonically set in the DC universe (what with all the crossovers) and since we're all going through our dp x dc phase I think someone should write a lil prompt where the trio, or at least Danny, meets the gang and then they're best friends ♥️

Also the Bat Family can be there! I think It's funny to imagine Batman working with the Scooby gang and being like, "Phantom, I would like you to meet my associates, (names them all off relatively fondly)"

and Danny's like, "Cool, I didn't know you had hippie friends they look so friendly"

[deerlisteners]

thinking about “give me a hand, boar”/“i think you mean a tusk” and exploding and dying. something something dimitri always asking people to call him by his name rather than “your highness” or whatever but then the one nickname that was specifically meant to hurt him becomes an affectionate nickname. and how his supports with felix in three houses conclude with both of them coming to terms that both dimitri and the boar are the same person. is this anything

[chelseasdagger]

hello!! i'm not sure if anybody's interested but i've been trying to dust off my laptop and get back into writing! i've been going back to the old drafts i had for chapter 4 of teacher and the very, very rough outline is sitting at over 2k and it's nowhere near flushed out. i've got some good ideas for this next part and i really hope y'all will still like it!

[clownbastard]

They took a *little* souvenir from the zoo...

Only a rough sketch, but I'm not sure if I'll finish it because motivation is a BITCH-

[akimojo]

is it too niche if i say i can't stop thinking about how hope is a pretty major character in lightning returns and yet he doesn't have his own official lr theme? and how i'm 100% interpreting that as a nod to how his grasp on himself/reality was so muddled up as a result of the torture bhunivelze put him through that trying to define his lr character with a theme would've been fruitless bc of the blank slate he had been turned into?

[humiliation-doggy]

i'm a sucker for memory loss fics which, in fact, does tie into my messy ass memory and also how i have suffered from bouts of memory loss (that lasted for only 5-15 seconds but they were impactful)

now, let's wonder about my inclination for mpreg-

[sciencelings-arts]

Can’t make a fem!Phoenix without a fem!Edgeworth, because no matter what gender this prosecutor is, she isn’t allowed to even slightly come off as straight

Design details and artists commentary below the cut

She is babey, and I’m absolutely convinced that she still wore a bow tie every day to school and never learned how to tie it so her dad had to every morning. It’s also important to note that this is the most saturated her hair gets, from dl6 on it gets lighter and less brown.

A lot of my bratworth design is based on the unimplemented design for PLvsPW, and I made sure to have some hellfire imagery to poke at the demon part of her reputation. This is the shortest her hair gets to represent Von Karmas control over her, after this era she keeps it longer and after the 7yg she keeps it loose to symbolize her freedom from mvk and how she slowly got more comfortable with herself so she doesn’t have to focus on controlling every part of her appearance.

Yes, Trilogy Edgeworth and Trilogy Phoenix have matching knight earrings leave me alone.

She also gets a little embroidered sunflower/defense attorney badge in this era. It’s meant to resemble the sun and represents Phoenix’s reentry into her life and her relationship with her father before she lets go a bit and leans into the whole chief prosecutor thing.

All I have to say is that her earpiece is 100% Phoenix themed

It was very important to me that she dressed so similarly to her canon version because she just gives off those vibes, maybe she wears a skirt and black tights and high heels that could puncture a bitch but that suit jacket is so mandatory. The day you see any form of this guy in something that’s not formal wear is the day she dies. She buttons up her shirt to the very top when she’s at the beach. You will never see the skin on her legs if she can help it. She only wishes she could pull off a hat so when she goes outside once a year she won’t get completely sunburnt.

It’s also important to note that I drew her facing her right and Phoenix facing her left so they would be mirroring each other because they are gay, now I just need someone to use these as icons so I can have an Edgeworth to my Phoenix 💔