#ooh whats my little phoenix wright up to?

[shirecorn]

Tumblr keeps popping up to sell me ad free dashboard. But what it doesn't understand is that me and the ads have a sort of symbiosis at this point.

The guys from the fake gameplay trailers for a predatory mobile app are my blorbos

[heaven-s-black-box]

Embarrassment- ensemble

Return to File

Recovery date: July 26th, 2020

Description: Larry tells embarrassing stories about his friends to their subordinates

Notes: An entry from my 2020 research project into the universe of Ace Attorney. You can find the next entry here.

Word count: 740

Back to directory

“Nicky! Where are you?” Larry whined, as he barged into the Wright Anything Agency. Everyone in the office looked up at him.

“Oh! Hey uncle Larry, if you're looking for daddy, he’s out grabbing lunch with uncle Miles. Do you wanna wait here with us?” Trucy asked.

“Aww! Hey Truce! Man, Nicky and Edgey never tell me anything,” he huffed, flopping down on the couch beside his niece. He was either ignoring, or didn’t notice, the stares from the rest of the office.

“Um, hello?” Apollo asked, “Who are you?”

“What?! You don’t know who I am?” Everyone shook their heads. “I am the great artist Laurice Deuxnim, Nick and Edgey’s best friend since grade school!”

“Oh!” Athena yelled, “I think I’ve seen some of your books. Wait, how do you get Larry from Laurice Deuxnim?”

“How does one get Nick from Phoenix Wright?”  Simon asked, flipping through a case file.

“Herr samurai does have a point.”

“Oh! That’s because his real name is Larry butz,” everyone sent Trucy a curious look. “What? Not like some of your names are very normal. I mean Mr. Gavin’s name is literally piano.” Apollo and Simon both started snickering.

“Hey I have a great name!”Larry whined.

“So, Mr. Butz,” Athena said, setting down her case files.

“Call me Laurice!”

“Alright Laurice, if you’ve know Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth for so long, you have to have some good stories!”

“Athena lets not.”

“Oh come on! You have to have some questions,” Athena whined. “What about you two?” She turned to Simon and Klavier.

“I do have one,” Klavier said. “What’s with the samurai keychain herr Edgeworth always keeps with him?”

“Actually, I’ve been wondering that too. Mr. Wright has a blue one, but he won’t tell me where he got it, and he gets fidgety when we ask,” Apollo said, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh like this one?” Larry asked, pulling out his signal samurai keychain. “It was a set I won back in elementary school! It’s the signal samurai, Nicky and I got Edgey into it back then.”

“Edgeworth-dono? Watched a children’s samurai show?”

“What, I’m sure he wasn’t always so uptight,” Trucy laughed.

“Oh no, Edgey was always like this! Always going on about being a defense attorney like his father. He always wore a little bow tie and stuff.”

“Heh, that sounds like herr Edgeworth,” Klavier laughed. By now, everyone had set down their work and was listening. “Any other stories herr Butz?”

“Ooh! Wait I can do you one better,” he pulled out his phone. “I have a picture of us doing the signal samurai pose!”

“What?!”

“No way uncle Miles would do something like that,” Trucy said. As Larry scrolled through his phone, the door opened.

“What’s going on?” Edgeworth asked, as him and Wright stepped inside with two paper bags. “Larry what are you doing here?”

“Edgey! Nicky!” Larry yelled, dropping his phone and forgetting about the picture. “We were just talking about you two.”

“What were you telling them exactly?” Wright asked wearily.

“Can you guys do the signal samurai pose?!” Trucy yelled.

“Larry…” Edgeworth almost growled. “What did you say?”

“Nothing! They were just asking about the keychains.”

“He was going to show us a picture of the pose!” Athena yelled.

“Oh, then I see no harm,” Wright said, “Although I’m a little out of practise. Come on, there’s space over here.” Wright dragged Edgeworth to a clear area.

“Wright,” he hissed, “don’t humor him!”

“Oh come on Edgey!” He joined them, “ ready?” Edgeworth just huffed and looked away, standing straight with his arms crossed. Larry cupped his hand around his eyes, “Sense the enemies I do. So be careful, will you?” Everyone started laughing, even Edgeworth cracked a grin. “Signal Yellow!” He struck the signal yellow pose.

“Kick enemies to the curb, and sally forth!” Wright extended his hand, and Trucy burst out into a fit of giggle. Edgeworth’s shoulders relaxed. “Signal blue!” He struck the signal blue pose.

“Come on uncle Miles!”

“Ja herr Edgeworth, don’t leave your friends waiting!”

“Fine, but this never leaves this room!” He glared, before taking a deep breath as his face turned red. “You’re facing me, and I shall stop thee.” He went through the motions, although a little choppy. “Signal red.” He posed. Everyone began to snicker, before bursting into full on laughter.

“Hey! You asked for it,” Wright laughed.

“Again!” Trucy yelled.

[rpmemestorehouse]

Shadow the Hedgehog Real-time Fandub Starters

Change wording as needed

“It feels like every day is the same.”

“It’s so dull and...lifeless.”

“You gotta - hey, come back here!”

“Get this shit outta here!

“Dang, sucks to be those guys. Anyway, back to brooding.”

“[Name], it’s me, the Devil!”

“I’m here to convince you to do sin!”

“Come with me! Steal candy from babies and small businesses! I’m not talkin’ about Wal-Mart.”

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll sin, I’ll sin, I’ll sin!”

“I’ve outsmarted you once again. And I didn’t even have to play chess this time.”

“You better not move, okay buddy? You just stay right there!”

“If you take one step, it’s blicky with the sticky all over your goddamn body!”

“I kicked them so hard they turned into dogs.”

“You ever been to church? You ever read a Bible? I’m from that, I’m that one. I’m that Devil!”

“Dude, I’m working, I’m playin’ solitaire.”

“That guy’s playing solitaire right down there!”

“I don’t have to turn to look at anyone!”

“I let him in here as a joke!”

“I’ve eaten nothing but drywall for the past three years.”

“Sonic and Shadow would’ve answered the call.”

“I hate it here! The sun doesn’t lessen in brightness!”

“New idea: adultery.”

“[Name]. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing, but I’m gonna stop it right here.”

“My sin is about to be murdering you.”

“Do you see what I’ve become? Do you see what I’ve created?”

“Not my glock!”

“Something just happened...I can feel it.”

“Come on. Someone. Please...HELLO?! WHY WON’T ANYONE ANSWER ME?!”

“That’s like, fucked up, right?”

“You got really supple shoulders.”

“It’s my Phoenix Wright cosplay. Do you like it?”

“I like your cosplay, I-I subscribed to your OnlyFans!”

“I do tier one on your Twitch channel, [title]! Hi!”

“Oh God, not another one of these Twitch fans.”

“I need to update my audio equipment.”

“That look do be bussin’, though.”

“I wanted to kill [Name] a long, long time ago! Ever since he broke up with me!”

“Anyway, time for me to ascend!”

“I’m opening up my portal again.”

“You confused sin with legality.”

“Oh yeah, of course leave. Without giving me a goddamn answer!”

“All right, an easy entry job, just like any other.”

“They really oughta update the security around here, I’m tellin’ ya.”

“Because I came here to take money because I can’t afford it.”

“So, you wanna go find a gun together?”

“Okay, so, I’m gonna have to break down the myth of Americana, and the uh, the, you know what figure it out yourself! I shouldn’t explain everything to you.”

“Hey, that was pretty good! You got 16 sin points!”

“Why am I moving backwards when I walk?”

“That’s not gonna change, you fucking weird little rat thing.”

“Second of all - hey, second of all - would you look at me while I’m talkin’ to you?!”

“Wait, I have jet boots!”

“I think I heard I rat. I’m gonna go give him a hug.”

“Ooh, a clone of yourself, isn’t that pretty cool?”

“This movie really fuckin’ sucks.”

“Oh my God, my mustache looks like fucking grass.”

“AH, bing-bong, hey what’s up, you’re doin’ a bad job!”

“This is the coolest fucking moment of my afterlife!”

“Welcome to the casino, bitches!”

“If you live in Baltimore, fuck youuuu!”

“I just lost 300,000 dollars, but it’s okay ‘cause I won 700.”

“And then you’ll be all like.......because you’ll be dead!”

“And then, you’ll get to Hell, and look up, and you wanna know what you’ll see? My heels in your face.”

“Ding-a-ling, cocksucker!”

“That’s my house, dude! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you mad? Are you big mad? Are you angy?”

“You just turned your head around like, 360 degrees like an owl, that was fucking cool!

“You’ve been nothing but a kind soul since I’ve known you!”

“Wee-oo wee-oo, hey, I’m in your flashbacks now.”

“It turns out you didn’t save her, you did a very bad job. That’s embarrassing for you, buddy.”

“You know how much I cost? 69 cents, baby!”

“You did just waste military money, which is super funny.”

“You could get an internship at Disney.”

“...Is that an alien?”

“Thanks for going to Chuck E. Cheese with me.”

“Remember that big gun in the sky? That was crazy, right?”

“You know, [Name]  just pays me not to blow up robots. You could get in on this.”

“Look at us, we’re cartoon talking animals.”

“I love you! I’m having so much fun with you!”

“Here it is, the constitution.”

“Stupid bitch alert!”

“I know you have big ambitions, but they can’t be worth your soul, [Name]!”

“I’m  gonna kick so much of your butt.”

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that again, I’ll kill you!”

“I will kill the Devil myself and take his place!”

“All right, so it’s not that hard to right-click on all of them and just hit the save button.”

“I mean, they let me vote, like, 80 times!”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m deleting the blockchain!”

“I was flying, chump!”

“I always wanted to rig a fuckin’ election!”

“Oh, I hear someone laughing behind us.”

“I’m always laughing at you, you fuckers.”

“You’re being really rude to us for no reason.”

“The timelines are converging, just like I saw it.”

“It’s like, I try to make differences, but...”

“*laughing* You’re gonna die. Oh, my God. I can’t wait to see that, that’s gonna be insane!”

“Wait, I traumatized you as a child! That’s badass!”

“Nothing personnel, kid.”

“Do you ever get tired of complaining like a little bitch?”

“So vitriolic, my feelings are so hurt, oh no, wah, I’m crying like a baby ‘cause of your - DIE.”

“But I wanna see the life leave your eyes one last time, so say your last pathetic words.”

“Now are you ready to finally usurp your throne to me, motherfucker?”

“No! What the f - no, that was never part of the deal!”

“I’m gonna funge this bitch.”

“Ow, what the fucking - you prick!”

“You fucking little pathetic rodent.”

“Oh yeah, “good luck with that”, yeah, fuck you, you’re annoying.”

“I shouldn’t be toying with him like this.”

“What can I say, I’m a rude, edgy boy.”

“No, we’re not connecting over this. Don’t even try, no.”

“No, it’s always “[Name], you change for me!” “

“Hey what’s up, I’m completely fine, like I said, you stupid idiot.”

“You ever heard of gaslighting? That’s, like, my specialty.”

“I was gaslighting you this whole time.”

“This is the last time I fuckin’ play around with mortals.”

“Usurp these nuts.”

“Heeeeeyyyyy! Whaaaat’ssss uuuuppp? It’s meeee!”

“I don’t know how to impress upon you that physical damage done to my body does not affect me in the long term.”

“We’re here to help you, man! With what, I don’t know, but I value our friendship!”

“It’s really cute that you’re gonna ~defeat me with the power of friendship~ and all -”

“Uh-huh, go ahead - ededededede! Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up.”

“This is not - this means nothing to me! This means nothing to me, alright? You mean nothing to me!”

“I’m the good guy! Do you realize? I am the good guy here!”

“I get to kill people! I get to poke people with hot s-sticks! All day!”

“Look! I can do this! I can do this! Any time I want!”

“This is nothing to me! You are nothing to me! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!!”

“Oh my God, he’s fucking losing it entirely!”

“Why don’t you answer my chats in your chatbox?”

“You never acknowledge me, not even once.”

“I’m your biggest fan! I’ve been with you since day one!”

“I got first badge, I was your first subscriber! And you don’t pay attention to me!”

“You still just leave me in the dust every single day!”

“Jesus Christ, parasocial! You need to log off!”

“Yeah man, this is kind of really unhealthy. Set your boundaries, dude.”

“I froze him in time, he was yelling.”

“Look, would you guys stop calling me cringe, please?”

“Because I’m a bad bitch! And I’m MY bad bitch!”

“You’re destroying me from the inside out!”

“I never thought I’d say this, [Full Name]. I’m unsubscribing.”

“These hands speak louder than fuckin’ actions, and I’m about to fuckin’ action all over you, dumbass.”

“Psychic attack! Fuck you!”

“Like, [Name], do you even listen to me when I fuckin’ talk?”

“We’re gonna broadcast this cringe all across the airwaves.”

“You were never strong.”

*on the verge of tears* “So all of this, this was a big prank?”

“[Name], get up and call him a dumbass motherfucker, all right?”

“I think you should call him a bitch-ass motherfucker!’

“You don’t wanna hurt my feelings, right?”

“I’m loyal! I follow you on Twitter! Your side account and your main! I even follow your “after dark” Twitter!”

“You can’t do this me, please! It’s me! Your friend!”

“I want to hurt your feelings, SO badly. You have no idea, [Name].”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t come any closer! *stammering* Don’t, NO!”

“I just wanted you to embarrass yourself.”

“Would you get outta my head? I really don’t like you in here.”

“You know, you look like piss!”

“I wanna go home! I don’t wanna be here anymore!”

“We lived. How’s that for ya?”

“You didn’t do your job, so I’m gonna fire you.”

“We oughta open a casino after this.”

“Maybe [Name] wasn’t all she was cracked up to be.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ooh can you do character bingo for our green haired twst bois, since you recently analyzed them?

You can read my recent Sebek analysis here, and my Trey analysis here!

***Standard disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions of the character(s); regardless of what I may think of them, sharing my thoughts is NOT meant to offend or to shame anyone that thinks differently.***

***CONTENT WARNING: mentions of racism, specifically internalized racism, as well as mentions of abuse.***

I’ve said it a few times before, but I’ll say it again: Sebek is my favorite of the five first years (I’m excluding Ortho from the count since Ortho formally becomes a first year very late in the main story; if Ortho was counted then he would be my favorite 🤣 SORRY SEBEK). First of all, he looks so cool. Sebek has such a strong presence without being as overwhelming or as oppressive as Vil’s, and even though I found his eyebrow shape to be kind of weird at first, it really grew on me. A lot of Sebek (the slicked back hair, the eyebrows, the thunderously loud voice) reminds me of another character that I enjoy, Phoenix Wright ^^ so it was easy for me to like his design.

When it comes to Sebek’s personality... Well, I do enjoy it, but I know for a fact that if I knew anyone similar to him in real life, they would scare the living daylights out of me (I don’t like loud noises or being shouted at). I’d also find his unwillingness to compromise and his excessive arrogance downright irritating. An intense personality like Sebek’s only really works well within the confines of fiction, not in reality, because I don’t personally have to deal with such unreasonable behavior. Of course, one aspect of Sebek that I will never agree with is his blatant racism towards humans (and anyone that isn’t fae), but as I’ve mentioned in my Sebek analysis (linked above), I believe it is 1) intentionally written into his character so it can later be subverted or shown to be wrong in episode 7, and 2) the internalized racism completely makes sense for his character because of how the Briar Valley and fairies are in general. That internalized racism actually lends itself to some interesting dynamics with other characters; it weirdly alienates Sebek from his peers and even from his own father, but also makes it really easy to tell him off when he’s being uppity (ie when Lilia, Silver, and/or Malleus rein him in). It’s not something that I see a lot of in other media, so it’s really fascinating to see in Sebek.

Another thing about Sebek that I don’t exactly like is his blind worship of Malleus. I actually don’t have a problem with obsession itself (since I excuse Rook for his obsession with beauty), but I have a problem with that obsession being directed at MALLEUS. As someone that dislikes Malleus (yes, you read correctly, I dislike him), I can’t say that I understand what Sebek sees in him, but I can understand from an in-universe perspective why Sebek would look up to his country’s prince. It’s just annoying that Sebek keeps worrying about Malleus when he goes missing when it’s made very clear that Malleus is powerful enough to fend for himself. I really hope that episode 7 will shed some light as to why Sebek is so fixated on Malleus in particular, because that kind of obsession is not only unhealthy, but must have been the result of some major, life-altering event if Sebek acts in such an extreme manner.

That aside, I really like Sebek for the most part. The contrast between him trying to come off as mature and righteous, but utterly failing and coming across as totally pathetic instead (especially when it comes to matters involving Malleus)... It’s really funny to witness, but I can’t help but feel a little bad for laughing at him afterwards. Sebek reminds me of a little puppy barking really loudly to intimidate a bigger dog, only for him to shout so much that he tires out and ends up napping at your feet instead of fighting that other dog... BUT WHEN YOU PRAISE HIM, HE GETS SO HAPPY AND LOOKS AT YOU WITH THOSE SPARKLING EYES AND WAGGING TAIL.......................... Sebek’s smiles, man 😳 They really get to me... He also reminds me of like... a little kid that’s in a rush to grow up without really realizing what “growing up” entails; he has a very simplistic worldview that shows just how immature he still is, and that’s a situation ripe for character development.

It’s extremely easy to misread Sebek and think that there’s nothing more to him than “oh, he’s just some racist that has an unhealthy obsession with Malleus”. In fact, I feel like that’s the general consensus for him in the fandom 💦 which is a real shame, because in TWST there is almost always a reason for why a character acts the way they do. To point at what is observed at a surface level and claim they are a bad person because of it makes absolutely no sense to me. We’ll stop and forgive the OB boys for the crimes THEY commit (or come close to committing) because the game very obviously exposits their backstories to us, but we won’t give side characters the same courtesy if the game doesn’t feed us their whole life story? It does Sebek a HUGE disservice, because all people need to see is him shouting and being fanatical before they instantly write him off and don’t give him a chance. Sebek is honestly a lot more complex than people often say he is (even based just on the subtle things we know of him via side content), and I hope that when he’s allowed more screen time that people can see past the surface and recognize Sebek for the boy struggling with an identity crisis that he actually is. No one is ever obligated to LIKE him, I just wish people would be more willing to understand him on a deeper level.

Personally, I’m not a huge fan of Trey. I don’t actively dislike him, but I don’t think he’s all that interesting, especially when compared to the rest of TWST’s colorful cast. That’s probably the entire point of Trey, though (as he makes remarks in vignettes and events about how “normal” he is), he’s there to be the sane and reasonable one for everyone else’s weirdness to bounce off of. In that sense, I really enjoy Trey being the straight man in the insane funny man comedy sketch that is NRC. I don’t mind Trey being the caretaker type to Riddle (and basically all of Heartslabyul), but I wish there were more interactions between Trey and Rook. With Rook having the extreme personality that he does, it makes for very wonderfully awkward scenarios where he’s just rattling off on an excited tangent while Trey just stands there nodding and pretending like he understands what Rook is on about. MORE SCIENCE CLUB, WE NEED MORE SCIENCE CLUB 😭

I find myself relating to Trey in that I’m often roped into the role of “caretaker” for my friends and for my family. Because I tend to be serious, I also end up fulfilling that role of straight man when people tell jokes or say something ridiculous. There’s other things about me that line up with Trey too, from my enjoyment of baking, fixation on dental care, to even an appreciation for food processors ✨ (I’m not even joking about the food processors bit, those things are SO convenient to have in a kitchen.) He’s perhaps one of the easiest characters in TWST to relate to because he’s so “normal”.

The main story does not do a great job of “selling” Trey to me. Episode 1 paints him out to be a bad guy (I agree that he was in the wrong for standing by while Riddle was rampaging, but with Ace ragging on Trey as hard as he did, it unintentionally incited a lot of unwarranted Trey hate for “not stepping in sooner” in his childhood). Then Trey barely shows up in episode 2 except to show to he got injured in the beginning and to express that he wants to play against Savanaclaw for revenge at the end. All in all, Trey didn’t get to do or say anything that monumental aside from when he finally stood up to Riddle by temporarily overwriting Riddle’s magic with his own. It has the unintended effect of painting him as a character that isn’t all that complex, and not many delve into side content (at least compared to the main story) to get a better sense of his character beyond being just “a sweet and supportive older brother”.

While I don’t find canon Trey all that interesting, I like some fanon interpretations (namely the ones that imply Trey’s “big brother” persona is masking something far darker). We get Trey joking around a bit or teasing us about adding oyster sauce to his baked goods, and sometimes he pulls a devious smirk, but there’s nothing really “canon” to tell us that Trey is that dark. (I do believe that there is more to Trey that he’s not letting us in on or that we’ve yet to see though.) I also like fan works that show Trey “snapping” and stepping up to pull off something impressive! LIKE. TREY BUSTING INTO STYX HQ TO RESCUE RIDDLE 😩 PLEASE, THAT WOULD BE SO COOL................................. BUT NAH, HE’S JUST SITTING AT HOME BABYSITTING HEARTSLABYUL AGAIN (which makes sense for his character, I just wish he was more active).

Like I said in my Trey analysis, I believe he sometimes gets a bad rep for being passive when he knew about Riddle’s abusive mother and didn’t stand up for him sooner. (Please go and read that analysis (linked above!) if you want to read more about it, because I’m not going to regurgitate all of those points here 💦) I don’t know, I just think it’s self-righteous to blame Trey when he, too, was a confused and awkward child at the time. If we were in the same position that Trey was, we would NOT so readily speak up or get involved early on. The only reason we can even claim that we would is because we have the hindsight of being an outside observer to the situation, and the hindsight of knowing what Mama Rosehearts’s influence would have on Riddle in present day. It’s very unrealistic to put all that pressure and expectation on child Trey (but I want to emphasize we should definitely hold present Trey partially responsible for not putting a stop to Riddle’s tyrannical rule).

My closing remark on Trey is that I think his haircut is absolutely atrocious and it reminds me of a badly mown front lawn 😷 I KNOW SOME PEOPLE LIKE IT, BUT IT LOOKS SO WRONG TO ME I’M SORRY ASDHLBASDUOU;FBIYAUPOIFOGUADVIBBPAFPBIYADASD

[wildfey]

It punches me emotionally that Phoenix either doesn't have motivation on his own or that he lets motivations inspired by other people push away things he likes, like his art degree. There's so much issues to unttangle there, like lacking direction in his life, depression, self-worth issues, identity, and so on. Also, for Kristoph's trap, it's possible that Phoenix just. Wasn't surprised that it happened. Even without potentially disassociating, he's eeriely calm.

(continued) Like Phoenix seemed to expect it could happen that he was set up. It would have been possible to prove his innocence. He didn't. Did he fear only more attacks against him would follow?

ooh, now this is a deeply fun ask to get on my day off, thank you very much anon.

I'm gonna assume this is a reference to this post where I did some tag rambling, so I'll continue some thoughts from there.

100% agree in regards to motivation. Trilogy Phoenix is fascinating to me, I know Takumi said that Phoenix tends to be something of a self-insert for the player, as the "detective" in a mystery plot he's there to solve, not act. But when you take away that doylist perspective, and go inside the text to look at him as a character, things get interesting.

The way I always saw it, the Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney games aren't really about Phoenix Wright. AA1 dedicates its largest and most significant character arc to Edgeworth, AA2 mostly has Phoenix being pushed through cases by others (all the games do this but it's really noticable in AA2) and AA3 finishes the Fey family's 3-game arc, which is more about Mia and Maya. Phoenix has very little backstory, and very few personal goals, but that's complemented by the fact that Phoenix's characterisation explains why. His motivations, his sense of self, identity, etc. all seem to exist as projections from other people. He's Edgeworth & Larry's friend because they saved him, he becomes a defence attorney because of Edgeworth's childhood beliefs, and the turnabout terror because he's emulating Mia (this is so obvious that Godot points it out). He dates Dahlia because she tells him he's her boyfriend now, his friendship with Maya begins because Mia told her to take care of him, he's Trucy's father because she casts him in the role... this is a repeated pattern for pre 7yg Phoenix. Even in terms of one of his strongest trilogy motivations - saving Edgeworth - he's still to some extent repeating the pattern that Edgeworth unknowingly set at 9 years old.

And when there aren't people around... well that's when the inverse kicks in. When Maya isn't around, Phoenix won't take cases for months (this... has always sounded like depression to me, and I think there's a really good argument for Phoenix having some form of depression. It's how I tend to write him.) He talks about Trucy "being his light", and implies that without her, he would have given up post-disbarment. Phoenix has a VERY obvious savior complex, and it's repeatedly taken advantage of; he defines his worth by how good he is at rescuing others. Examples of this off the top of my head include apologising to Lana for not fully aquiting her when she very much did commit a crime, how upset he is during AA2 because he tried to save Edgeworth and couldn't (even though it's clear that Edgeworth needed to save himself), and wanting to defend Iris even though for all he knows, she's his evil ex (at the point he decides to defend her, he has 0 evidence this isn't the same woman who tried to kill him.) But when it comes to himself? Well, he can get injured or threatened (and he does! a lot!) but Phoenix will NEVER defend himself in the same way he does other people (there's a whole tangent I could go into about how he's a very non-violent character and the few instances in the series where he's physically violent are extremly indicative of this protective streak. But I digress).

So we come to the Zak Gramarye case - Why doesn't Phoenix react? Well, he does. But to defend Zak, not himself. I think this case would have been different if any assistant had been there, whether Maya, Ema, or Pearl, because they wouldn't have accepted it, would have taken it as a challenge to themselves, and by extention motivated Phoenix. But with Phoenix alone... he's only fighting for his client. And when his client disappears... well then, he'll take it passively (If Zak had stayed, would Phoenix have pulled a turnabout? Possibly, there may have been some way to fix the situation if he'd been motivated to do so. He's arguably fought worse.)

This is why the 7yg is deeply, deeeeeeply interesting to me as someone who loves to fill in character development, because the character development that happens in the 7yg changes basically all of this. By the time we see Phoenix again in 4-1, he has gained a decidedly selfish streak, he's out for... something, whether justice, vengeance or just stopping Kristoph from hurting people, Phoenix is finally has his own goals, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to succeed. (Thus comes the reversal, Phoenix is to Apollo in AA4 what other people were to Phoenix in the trilogy, though I'd argue that Apollo has a far better developed sense of self)

Would love to hear other peoples opinions on this one though (anon you are very welcome to come back and talk more, would love to hear ur opinions on Phoenix expecting to be set-up)

[bevioletskies]

the first time (ever i saw your face)

summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.

word count: 4.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.

“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”

“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”

“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”

“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”

“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”

Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”

“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”

“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.

“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”

“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”

“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”

Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”

“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”

“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”

“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”

“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”

“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”

“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”

“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”

_____

The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.

Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.

“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”

Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -

“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.

Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.

“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.

Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.

“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.

_____

The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”

“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”

“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”

“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”

“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”

“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”

“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”

“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”

“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”

_____

“Excuse me, coming through.”

It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”

Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.

“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”

“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?

“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”

“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.

“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.

“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”

_____

“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”

“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”

“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”

“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”

“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”

“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”

Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”

_____

Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.

“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”

“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”

Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”

And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”

“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”

“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”

“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”

“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”

“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.

After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.

“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.

Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”

“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”

“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”

“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”

“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”

“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”

“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.

Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.

“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.

_____

“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”

Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”

“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”

“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”

“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”

“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”

“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.

Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”

“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”

“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”

Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉

Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[stargazer-balladeer]

December 11: Going to a Tree Lighting Event (Ace Attorney)

Characters Included: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Franziska von Karma, Apollo Justice, Athena Cykes, Sebastian Debeste, Simon Blackquill

Notes: Time to get back to writing :D. I also realized while doing this that most of this characters have sad backstory and then there’s Phoenix- 😃😃 Hope ya’ll like this!

Warning: none

December Fics | MAIN PAGE |

Phoenix Wright

Phoenix is literally a child in a man. He would basically drag you outside when it starts to snow. You can see literal stars in his eyes whenever snow falls around you two.

Even though he might be busy with his job as a Attorney, he would always make time for you. He might overwork himself a bit during these times, though whenever you mention this, he would only say that he will finish all of his work so that he could spend more time with you-

I believe its his idea if you two go to a tree lighting event. It’s basically a tradition for him to attend one of this in a nearby town, with his family. And now, he wants to experience it with you. Because he wants to share something precious to him with you.

“Look, Nick!” You excitedly said as the tree started to light up before you. Whether it’s your first time or not, it always feels you with glee whenever the tree started to light up. Phoenix laughs as the crowd started “ooh”-ing at the sight.

Instead of looking at the lights, Phoenix was staring at you. His face filled with adoration and love. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. He pressed his lips to the side of your head. “I love you so much.”

“You’re being too cheesy right now.” “Aren’t I always?” “.. touché.”

Miles Edgeworth

Miles isn’t one for childish things, so he’ll be indifferent to things like snow. However, that was when he was still with von Karma. Now that he’s free from his mentor, he can finally relax and enjoy the simple things in life.

Miles might be very busy since he’s the Chief Prosector, but he’ll do his best to make time for you. It’s just that his work usually takes up all of his time, so it’s basically up to you to drag him away from his workaholic state-

Miles isn’t into childish things, but he enjoys seeing the tree lighting event. Him and his father usually watch this when he was young, and it was a good memory that Miles keep in his heart. So it’s mostl likely that he’ll be the one inviting you to the event.

You two watch from the distance as the tree started to light up. You were standing at the far end since you knew that Miles isn’t too fond of being in a crowded place. You don’t really mind as you watch in awe as the lights light up.

Miles have a smile on his face as he breathes out, making a puff of cold smoke. The memory of his father clouded his mind as his gloved hand tighten on yours. You noticed as you lean on him, making him stiffined. “Your father is very proud of you, you know. He wouldn’t want you to be sad on such a jolly occasion.” You softly mumbled as you gaze at the tree.

Miles looks at you in the corner of his eyes before smiling again. “Perhaps. Shall we go and walk around then?” “Are you saying that because you’re already cold?” “Nonsense. Let’s go.” “You’re blushing~.” “You’re imagining it.”

Franziska von Karma

Similarly to Miles, Franziska isn’t one to be into childish things. But unlike her adopted brother, she doesn’t have any memory of anything special. All her life, she’s been mentored by Manfred von Karma, kept inside all of the times. She was raised to never indulge in her desire. So now that she is no longer in his watch and now with you, she’s honestly lost. Though she would keep up her ‘know-it-all’ attitude.

Franziska is constantly busy with her life of being a Prosecutor and being with the Interpol. So she might not have much time with you. Whenever she’s free, she usually spends it with either still working or relaxing with you. So it’s best if you schedule when you two will go out so that she’s aware of it and can clear out her schedule.

No doubt that you’ll be the one suggesting it. Though there’ll be a low percent chance that she might suggest it, about 5%- Either way, Franziska would join you. She’s actually excited to see one, but she wouldn’t outwardly show it- 👀

You stared at Franziska as her eyes go wide and sparkle at the sight of the tree lighting up. It warms your heart to see her lowering her guard and let the child inside her run free. It’s rare to see Franziska like this so you basically bask at the sight of her awe face. (Though you secretly want to kill Manfred- 😃🔪)

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You said as you put your attention the humungous tree. Franziska blinks before coughing and looking away, with a tint of pink in her cheeks, clearly embarrassed to show such awe face- “it’s.. alright. Though I still think it’s foolish to waste time here instead of doing something else.” Franziska said. You sighed while smiling, same old Franzy-

“However, I would admit.. this is rather enjoyable.” She mumbled. You smiled widely as you intertwine your hands with hers. Even though she was looking away from you, you can tell she’s embarrassed with how red her ears are. “See~ I told you that this is enjoyable!” “Only a foolish fool would think like that.” “Then, that means that you’re a ‘foolish fool’ as well, Franzy!” “!! I- That isn’t what I mean-!”

Apollo Justice

Apollo tries to act mature but he really isn’t. He also doesn’t have any fond memories in his childhood years, but he did remembered that there was one time that Clay dragged him to a tree lighting event. He still remembers the awe as they watch the tree lighting up. Of course, when he grew up, he forget about his childish innocence. But it slowly resurfaces when he saw something related to the event.

Apollo is busy with paperwork, and heading the Khu’rain’s judicial system alongside Nahyuta. Even though his supposed uncle, half-brother and half-sister and the queen is helping him, it still result in him overworking. Nahyuta basically asks (force) you to drag his poor excuse of a brother to take a rest—

It doesn’t matter who invited who, Apollo is bound to forget about it. Can’t blame him really. This guy has a lot going in his plate so don’t fault him if he forgets about it—

You look at your watch as you frown sadly. “He’s late.” You mumbled sadly as you look up to look for your workaholic boyfriend. He promised he’ll be here to watch the event, but it doesn’t appear he’ll be appearing any time soon. And the event is about to start.

You sighed as you continued to wait, gazing at the tree while doing so. Your ears pick up some crunching noises and someone huffing, you turn around to see Apollo running towards you. You brightened up as you stood up properly instead of leaning on the wall and meet him halfway. He was huffing heavily while staring at you apologetically.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think that the trial would take so long-! Or that the cab that I’m riding would break down—“ “calm down, Apollo. It’s alright. I get it.” You reassured him as he manages to catch his breath. He looks like he was about to apologize again but you cut him off. “Look! The tree lighting is starting! C’mon!” “Woah! You almost made me fall-!” “Call it a payback for making me wait for so long!” “I thought you said you get it?!” “I take it back.” “[Y/N]-!”

Athena Cykes

Obviously, Athena is excited for this event. She never had a chance to go to one of this event, since she was basically kept inside the facility with her mother. Her childhood is basically black-and-white (similar to a certain samurai 👀). So it isn’t much of a surprise to see her bouncing up and down when she heard of the event-

Athena isn’t that busy since she finishes her work very fast. So she has plenty of time to spend it all with you. Though sometimes, she would get caught up with her work. But rest assured that you wouldn’t wait for too long since Athena is a fast reader and writer 😃

No doubt that she’ll be the one suggesting it- though she wouldn’t ask you to go with her, she drags you over there- no matter what your response is, you are going with her whether you like it or not 😃

“Are you excited to see the lights?!” Athena said as she pulls you towards the center of the plaza. You giggled at her enthusiasm as you tried to match her fast pace. “Ooh! This is my first time seeing it in person! I usually see it in the TV and stuff-!”

Her excitedness seems to radiate much more, as its started to rub on you. You manage to match her pace and walk beside her. “Well, let’s make this a memorable one then!” You were surprised to see Athena’s already wide smile widened some more as she side hugs you. “Yes!!”

“Why don’t we buy some candy first to snack while watching it?” “Aren’t you hyper as it is-?” “Nah, I mean.. a little sugar wouldn’t hurt, right?” “And when you mean ‘little’, you mean one bag, right?” “.. maybe.”

Sebastian Debeste

Sebastian would surely be surprised to hear about such event, since ya know, with his father and childhood- when he either asks you about it or research about it, his eyes would sparkle as he continued to listen/read. He would basically ask you if you two could go and see one (protecc this bby TwT-)

Sebastian is busy studying and doing Prosecutor work, afterall, he is being mentored by Miles Edgeworth. Though, Miles would grant him a vacation so that he could enjoy the holidays. However, I think Sebastian would still continue studying words and stuff so that he wouldn’t be much of a burden. It would be wise to drag him away before he overwork himself-

Sebastian would (shyly) ask you if you two could attend this event because he really wants to see one in person. Unless you don’t have a heart, your heart would melt at the sight of him. Please bring this poor child to the tree lighting event already-

Sebastian stares at the tree in amazement and awe as the lights started to dance around. He pulled your sleeves slightly. “Woah! How does the light do that?!” “Professional. Magic.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Though Sebastian didn’t hear it as he’s busy watching the lights.

You smiled at the sight as you let your hand intertwined with his. His ahoge shot upwards as he looks at you. You smiled gently at him. He blushed as he quickly revert his eyes back to the lights. You chuckled at him.

“We should do this more often.” “.. yeah, we could go kahooting!” “... you mean snowboarding?” “Oh.. um, yes! That’s it!”

Simon Blackquill

Simon is the kind of guy that looks like he doesn’t care about the holidays but he secretly likes it- even though he despises it because Taka can’t fly freely since its too cold for her/him to fly. He still likes the scenery and the coldness of it. As for the tree lighting event, it is kind-of a tradition for him and his sister to go to one. But ever since the UR-1 incident, it vanished. So he might go there in memory of the times where he and his sister fought while waiting for the event to start.

Simon is constantly busy with work. He is usually in-charge of interrogating witnesses and stuff, and he has paperwork to sign. He’s a workaholic like Miles, but he also spend his time practicing his samurai skill. But other than that two, he would find time to spend it with you.

He would not obviously say it outwardly, but he would hint about going there. So you either pick that up or you genuinely want to go there even if Simon doesn’t want to- either way, he isn’t complaining. This time, he’ll be seeing the tree lighting up with you instead of his obnoxious older sister.

“Are you sure you want to watch the tree lighting with me?” You asked as you two walk towards the plaza. He huffs before looking at you in the corner of his eyes. “If I’m not sure, then why would I be here?” You sighed. “Well, it’s hard to see if you are obligated to be here because of me or you’re here on your own free will.”

He stayed silent, so you decided to let it go. You two continued to walk, when you felt his hand over your shoulder, slightly pulling you towards him. You look up at him but couldn’t see much. “Hey, what-?” “If you don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss it.”

You blink before chuckling. “Is this your way of saying you’re here because you want to?” “Let your mind think what it wants to think.” “Then my mind is thinking of how adorable you are.” “Oh really now?” “Hmhm.” “You have a weird mind-“ “You are the definition of weird.” “Touché.”

[furimmerich]

"What do you want?"

Miles' pen halted and he contemplated brushing the question off for a moment. "What do you mean, Wright?" he instead settled on an equally curt question. It only seemed fair.

"I mean, like..." Wright only sat still, his mouth open, as he tried to think an explanation for it. "Your goal. What do you really want?"

The emphasis on the want was unnecessary, but Miles acknowledged him with a wry scoff. "...justice, what else?" It seemed he had answered a bit too slowly, as Wright was on him--metaphorically, of course--in an instant.

"Just justice? That's a bit of a meek want, especially since it's something you only recently were driven towards." The attorney's huff at the end was a bitter reminder of his still-present ill feelings towards Edgeworth's sudden 'death' several years prior. "You don't have anything else that's, say," the man's volume suddenly dropped, "more personal?"

The arrow hit its mark, but the prosecutor would not back down yet. "Seeking justice is as much a personal concern as a professional concern, mind you," Miles simply retorted, straightening his files. "I have no such of the personal desires you inquire me for, Phoenix Wright."

"Really?"

"Certainly."

Wright stared through him with pursed lips, his urge to press forward obvious and obnoxious; as always. "No...perhaps, romantic wants?"

"Had I not told you I have no interesting in being wed?" Edgeworth's own lying annoyance rang through his ears and he cleared his throat in an attempt to silence it. "I care not for romantic relationships; I keep everything purely professional."

"So, we're purely professional best friends?" The defense attorney had started to get dangerously close to the prosecutor. "I think that's a little contradictory, Edgeworth."

His tone alerted said man to keep an even voice, "I think not? We've known each other for more than twenty years, I'm sure you, of all people, understand that." Phoenix then flatly murmured something including the word 'liar' and 'locks' and Edgeworth found his own breathing had suddenly silenced. "Pardon?"

"Nothing." The response was choked out, but a response nonetheless. "But you're sure?"

"Incredibly sure, so, stop asking. I'm trying to work," the prosecutor continued to emphasize his point with a pen click. "And shouldn't you as well?" It was more of a plead to leave his office than a suggestion.

The former hummed questioningly before processing his demand. "Ooh... nah," Wright grinned, "Apollo and Athena have everything under control," he paused, "probably."

"Prob-" Miles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're too carefree. You should be more wary about your job, Wright. I'd rather you not lose it again."

"Hey, you can't joke about that!"

"I assure you, I'm not joking."

"You're cruel!" Despite his words, Phoenix laughed. Miles couldn't help as he smiled a bit, though he quickly hid it with clearing his throat. "You don't needa worry about it. You...You helped me and I'm...so, so thankful."

"I was merely helping..." the taller man blinked, thinking through his words carefully, "...a friend." The hesitation in his reply visibly displeased Wright, but otherwise the attorney said nothing else.

After a few moments, the office went silent, besides the occasional paper rustle as Edgeworth organized files. He was quite grateful for it. He would finally be able to finish these final documents...

"You look quite cute in glasses, did you know that?"

"...P-Pardon?" Miles tried to wrap his head around what he said.

Phoenix sat there with a smile on his face, staring right at him. "Glasses. You look cute in them."

"...c-cute..?"

"Attractive? ...Hm..." the defense attorney tapped his chin in thought. "One of those. I like them." He gently reached out, slipping his index under Edgeworth's chin. "And your eyes..." he didn't finish his sentence, but what he wanted to say was in the air.

"Wh-What kind of n-nonsense..." Miles trailed off into a mumble, but he didn't pull away. He only averted his eyes for a moment.

"It's not nonsense at all, Miles."

"N-Ngh...You..."

"Gimme a kiss?" Wright tilted his head, leaning over the prosecutor's desk. "Please?" Desire gleamed in his eyes.

"W-Wright..." Miles could barely breathe, and he liked it. Wright's finger against his skin was hot, and he liked it. In a moment of feverish temptation, he cupped the former's cheek and brought him into a kiss. Warmth flooded his face as he felt lips move against his and, god, it was intoxicating. And it almost stung.

After a moment, they separated, if separated meant barely centimeters apart still.. Miles was surprisingly disheveled and Phoenix looked surprisingly happy. "Holy shit...I've been wanting to do that for years," he murmured.

Despite his own joy, something still hurt. Attraction. Was it romantic? Did he only want his body?

"...please." His tone was so pathetic it hurt, but Edgeworth could deal. "Please, tell me it isn't just physical."

"What isn't just physical..?"

"Please don't just be physically attracted to me," Edgeworth practically begged. "I-I can't handle that kind of--"

"No?" Phoenix seemed to realise he sounded more questioning. "No," he repeated firmly. "God, no. Miles, I love you for you. I have for...what, since we were kids? Your courage, your kindness, your passion, your honesty; you're amazing in every single way. I'm lucky enough that you're just as handsome in and out."

Miles knew he meant it. And, god, he felt more for the man in front of him than he could verbalize. Relief relaxed his nerves and he pecked Phoenix on the lips again. "I...love you."

The other man chuckled, a smirk on his face. "I know. You're a bad liar." Though his smirk wasn't mean. Not mean like von Karma's when Miles messed up, or like Gant's when he had presented forged evidence. It was a nice smirk, because it was Phoenix.

"Maybe I am, but what does that make a certain bluffing defense attorney?" He received an indignified scoff in retort. "You're just as bad as me, darling," the nickname rolled off his tongue easily. It seemed to fluster Wright as well, as he stuttered in response. Miles decided he'd keep it.

He must've been smirking a lot since Phoenix rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "I never knew you were such a sap," he mumbled into his palm as he sat back down, "It reminds me of Larry and that's scary."

"I'm nothing like Larry," Miles retorted, "Unlike him, I have an IQ above than room temperature." The former laughed and Miles couldn't help but relish in the fact that he made him laugh.

"Cut the guy some slack, he's just...uh..."

"He's the complete opposite embodiment of someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"...kinda. But he's still our friend."

Edgeworth ignored the faint spark of displeasure in his chest, pressing the edge of his pen into his finger. "Indeed."

*

After a few moments of silence, Phoenix allowed himself to stare, his point of interest being, obviously, Miles. He figured it wasn't inappropriate, considering what had just been passed between the two of them. Over two decades of holding out his feelings, and, finally... A small grin played out on his face. It didn't go unnoticed by the perceptive man across from him.

"What're you smiling about?" Edgeworth inquired, shuffling around files, though he'd guessed that the prosecutor had long since given up his full attention to the paperwork.

"I'm just happy, that's all," Wright hummed. When the former perked an eyebrow, the latter rolled his eyes, "I just had my first kiss, let me sap over it."

And, apparently, that was enough to surprise Miles. "First kiss?" he echoed. A thoughtful look flashed across his face for a second.

It'd been a retort in the spur of the moment, so Nick hadn't really thought about it. Heat slightly rose to his cheeks. "Yeah. First. You better be honored."

The magenta-clad man smirked in response. "Well then. That certainly does please me." He gazed over him for a moment, a certain gleam in his eyes that sent a shiver down Phoenix's spine. Something in his voice stood out, too. "Glad to know I was your first, darling."

Possessiveness, that's what it was.

If he was being honest, Phoenix didn't mind. In fact, it was kind of arousing.

Blushing at his own dirty thoughts, he mustered a reflection of his partner's smug expression. "Want another one for good measure?" he offered slyly. And it would've been a successful cover up of embarassment had he not went to prop his head up on his elbow, missing the edge of the desk, and promptly slamming his nose into the wood. "...ow."

Miles chuckled. "Hm. Let's move somewhere more...comfortable for that, shall we?" He gestured for Wright to get up as he did the same. Sliding from behind his desk, he took the defense attorney's hand and guided him to the sofa that sat perpendicular.

Wright found himself flushing red at the implications behind his words.

As he went to take a place besides where Edgeworth had sat, he was stopped by a hand on his waist, which did not help the blood flowing to his face. "Uh- Er- E-Edgeworth?" There was definitely a minor voice crack in there.

"Come now, Wright, you wanted another kiss, did you not?" Edgeworth kept his gaze locked on him and he slowly pulled Wright onto his lap. "I'd say it's easier this way. Any objections?"

Phoenix would've been damned had he turned down the golden opportunity. "The defense concurs," he managed, swallowing thickly.

"Let us continue the proceedings, then." The prosecutor's hand slowly lowered to the former's thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

Phoenix let out an embarassing noise. "M-Miles!" he tried to scold, but, god, did he melt into his hand. It was just the perfect distance away from somewhere else incredibly vital that it gave him both a shock of pleasure and the want for more.

"Yes?" Miles gazed at him innocently, but his hand slowly snaking further towards Phoenix's crotch betrayed his look. "Something the matter, darling?"

Wright opened his mouth to speak, but once he felt himself being gently palmed he couldn't form sentences. He only hummed lowly, relishing the partial friction. "You...nnh..."

All the while, the chief prosecutor kept his unknowing façade. "I cannot hear you if you mumble, Wright," he smiled, as if he wasn't the one reducing the other attorney to a blushing, muttering mess with his own hand.

"You-" Phoenix gasped as he just barely resisted from thrusting his hips forward in desperation for more. "-are a bad liar." Miles' smirk deepened.

"And yet you weren't able to find out my truth." His hand stopped. Fuck.

Lightly panting, the man stared at him with lidded eyes. Nine psyche-locks had appeared earlier when Phoenix inquired him about it. It was less than surprising. "Well, let me ask you again," he paused, gathering his breath. "What do you want?"

Edgeworth was much more prepared for the question now, finally looking him in the eye while he answered. "You. I want you to be mine and no one else's, in heart, soul, and body." He cupped his face, rubbing his thumb against the outline of his cheek.

The sentiment touched his heart, and he smiled lop-sidedly, still a little pleasure drunk. "Well." Phoenix leaned into his touch. "I'm all yours, Mi."

"Would you like that kiss, now?"

"Yes. Please."

Without waiting, the defense attorney smashed his lips into the prosecutor's, a shiver running through his nerves as the latter reciprocated with just as much hunger. Everything felt so good and right and nice, and he was getting too warm-

Phoenix pulled away after a heartbeat to mutter 'jacket' as comprehensibly as he could. Thankfully, Miles got the memo and carefully slid the blue jacket off. The former relished the cooler air that seeped into his dress shirt, but he still had too many layers for comfort. "Are-Are we safe in here? N-No one's gonna...?"

"The door's locked," Edgeworth responded without missing a beat. He'd started to trail kisses down Phoenix's jawline. "I'm rarely disturbed." His lips met the attorney's throat and oh, god, Phoenix loved it. "We'll be fine."

Wright shakily hummed in response, all his senses being narrowed down to where Edgeworth touched. All his competence had been reduced to nothing as he desperately tried to balance. "Mi- Hah~"

"Say my name more, my darling."

Phoenix obliged happily, breathily repeating 'Miles.' It seemed to drive the other man past his self-control. The attorney's waistcoat was all but dragged off, his under shirt following. The former now attacked his skin with bites and the latter couldn't keep his wits about him. "Mi- Oh, fuck-"

"Language, Phoenix," the more dominant man chastised, his breath brushing against Wright's ear, his fingers lightly circling the rings around his nipples. A moan escaped from the latter, the first to have been unstifled.

"G-God- Miles~" Nick dragged out. He'd long last lost his ability to sit straight, just barely propping himself up. "Please-"

The prosecutor caught his gaze. "Please, what?"

"Ravage me."

*

Well.

It was an unexpected reaction, to say the least, though not unwelcome.

Miles made haste to uncover more of Phoenix's body--deftly undoing his belt and working down those blue jeans. It proved quite difficult when he realised the man was in such a position that prevented them from slipping past his hips. Hm. He hadn't really wanted to change their position either.

A brief, enticing thought popped into Edgeworth's head, and he thought on it for a moment.

"Phoenix, can you stand?" To that, Phoenix nodded breathlessly. "Good. Stand."

Watching his darling comply eagerly filled him with a carnal instinct. "Jeans. Off, now."

Wright was left in his boxers, allowing Edgeworth a near full view of his body. Unsurprisingly, the man was quite toned, though you'd never be able to tell under the suit. His eyes trailed down to his hips.

Seeing how hard the defense attorney was made him chuckle, though he wasn't much better himself.

Miles figured he'd admired him long enough. There would be a more "personal examination" soon, after all. He held out his finger, beckoning Phoenix back onto his lap. "Are you sure you want me to 'ravage you'?" he murmured, exhaling slowly at the friction between Phoenix's length and his own. "I may not be able to hold back."

"It's been decades of miscommunication, I sure as hell hope you don't hold back," Wright shot him a stern look, which would've been somewhat intimidating, had he not been all but naked.

"Hm, point taken," the chief prosecutor shrugged slightly, now tracing the waistband of the former's briefs to his back, taking in the slight arches of his spine. Slipping in his hand, it didn't take much for him to pass over Phoenix's ass. Miles relished the gasp and hum that came from Phoenix as he lightly massaged and groped him.

He suddenly paused, realising something. A problem. Miles sighed quietly; Not without the attentive defense attorney noticing, though. "Wh-What is it?"

"Lube. We have none. I mean, we can continue, but the strain for you..."

He heard Phoenix swear under his breath and mutter something else, scratching his chin like he always did when thinking. "...do you have any lotion here?"

"Lotion? Well..." A glance around the office confirmed it. "No."

"Hm." Wright didn't give up, though. He was quite single-minded. "Gimme your hand. Don't ask questions, don't call me gross, it's perfectly acceptable." Why he'd ever need his hand at this moment was beyond the prosecutor; He offered his other hand nevertheless.

Miles didn't know what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn't Phoenix slipping three of his digits into his mouth.

In retrospect, it should've been revolting, yet he couldn't be more turned on. There was something about how the former's tongue ran along his fingers. Something about how his eyebrows arched up, his eyes fluttered shut. Apparently Phoenix Wright could make anything look attractive as hell.

Even the way Phoenix popped off, a wet noise barely there, with a thin string of saliva still connecting from his lips to the tips of Miles' fingers-

Ah, he'd started overanalyzing things again. Edgeworth shook his head, staring at his fingers. "Saliva as lube. I guess that works."

Wright lit up positively. "Okay, now, please, pleaseplease-" he basically guided his lover's hand back to his ass. More quiet pleads fell from his mouth in anticipation. Miles found it adorable.

Now having some way of entering easier, Miles pushed his first digit into the defense attorney's entrance.The latter moaned quietly.

He made sure to go slow, just incase it still stung, which was inevitable. He paid quiet attention to the man's reactions, though.

If Phoenix was in any pain, he didn't seem to show it.

Feeling reassured, he carefully added another.

Phoenix bit down on his lip, his body arching against Miles' fingers. "Oh, god~ Yes~"

Edgeworth smirked and leaned forward to steal his lips in a kiss, meanwhile pushing in the last finger. Wright's moan in his mouth was immaculate.

The shorter of the two pulled away, panting heavily.  "Is-Isn't it...ready..."

"Maybe." Miles was then suddenly aware of the suffocating layers of his own clothes. He'd been so occupied on Phoenix's pleasure to focus on his own. He sighed, his pants feeling especially tight.

He'd taken out his fingers when he was sure Phoenix was stretched enough- and, god, the sight of the panting, blushing, moaning mess of a man in front of him would be burned into his memory for a while.

[sylvanfreckles]

Turnabout Handicap

Just resurrecting my old works from ff.net. Presented in its entirety, including original author's notes, as published on February 17th, 2015: Turnabout Handicap!

Summary: Apollo finally bought the latest edition of Rock Mix, just in time to be stuck in the office with Trucy while Athena and Mr. Wright were off on another case without him. Of course, as bad luck would have it, this would be the day Klavier Gavin stops by.

...

Babysitting again.

Apollo glanced over at Trucy, thumbing through a magazine on the couch, and let out a slight sigh. He liked Trucy all right—she was like the little sister he never had—but why did he always get stuck here while Mr. Wright and Athena were in court? It just wasn't fair.

"Didja get it plugged in yet, Polly?"

"Just a second," he called back. There was a lot of dust behind Mr. Wright's TV and he could barely see the connections, but Apollo was finally able to plug in the adapter for his GameStar. He was a little surprised they still made adapters for sets as old as this one but since his own TV was just a little bigger than his microwave he wasn't going to complain.

Trucy gave a whoop as the GameStar whirred to life. "It's starting! What are we gonna play?"

Apollo backed out from behind the TV, trying to brush the dust off his suit. "I only brought one multiplayer game, Trucy," he replied, but she was already elbows-deep in the box of games he'd brought over with him. Technically he was donating it to the office...in reality he and Athena had agreed they were tired of cleaning the toilet when they didn't have clients, so something like this would help pass the time even if he didn't play much anymore.

"Rock Mix!" Trucy shouted and held a guitar-shaped controller over her head. "I've seen this on TV! Who knew you were so musical, Polly?"

"Be careful, I had to buy the controllers used and they're not in the best shape," Apollo rescued the controller from Trucy and connected the cable with his GameStar. "I lost the memory card a long time ago, just give me a second to set up a profile."

"Aw, don't do that now," Trucy complained. "Let's just play! You can do the boring stuff later."

Apollo sighed. He'd really liked the game's character customization when he first bought it...without that they'd be playing with the game's standard avatars based on well-known rock stars. Rock stars like...

"Look, Polly, it's Mr. Gavin!"

It wasn't. Well...it sort of was. The avatar's name was Kevin Gawain, but he looked an awful lot like the rock-star prosecutor.

"Ooh, and we can play one of his songs," Trucy said excitedly, flipping through the songlist on the game's menu. "I'm playing lead guitar, of course. Would you rather be rhythm or bass?"

Apollo felt a headache coming on. "Trucy, that's not exactly what I had in mind. They have a lot of classics in there, too."

But the girl was ignoring him. "Which one, Polly? 'Guilty Love' or 'Atroquinine'?"

"Trucy..."

She jumped up on the couch, controller in hands, posing like the avatar on the cover of the game. "Love, slow-acting and new," Trucy sang, miming strumming strings over the game's controller.

"Get down from there, you could fall."

"Oh, but you have a microphone, too," Trucy scrambled back down to the floor. "What do you think, Polly, should I be lead guitar or lead vocals?"

Apollo sighed and plugged in the second controller. "The karaoke part isn't as fun. I think you should stick to guitar."

"Aw, I wish I could be both," she let the microphone fall back into the box. "Then I'd really be like Mr. Gavin."

"Look, Trucy, I get enough of him in court, can't you pick a different avatar?"

Someone on the other side of the room cleared their throat. "Did I come at a bad time?"

Both Apollo and Trucy yelped and spun around. Klavier Gavin was standing behind them, folder tucked under one arm, smirking that damned smirk.

"W-what are you doing here?" Apollo stammered, quickly setting his controller down against the couch. How much had Gavin seen and heard? Had he said anything embarrassing?

"I'm here to drop off a file for Herr Wright," Gavin explained, holding out the folder. "His case is linked to one I prosecuted last year."

"Oh, right," Apollo took the folder, glanced at it for a moment, and added it to the pile next to the phone. "He's in court now, you know."

"Ja," Gavin nodded and hooked his thumbs in his belt. "He said I could leave it with you."

"Mr. Gavin!" Trucy hopped over the back of the couch, nearly knocking Apollo aside. "You should play with us, I bet you're really good at this game."

Gavin looked over at the screen. He didn't seem to know how to answer...sometimes Trucy's enthusiasm was like that.

"C'mon, Trucy. he doesn't have time to play Rock Mix with you," Apollo interjected, uncrossing his arms to rest his elbows on the back of the couch. "Besides, I doubt he'd want to."

"Rock...Mix?" Gavin leaned over the couch to study the controllers. "The video game?"

"It's only the best ever," Trucy explained, despite the fact that this was her first time playing it. "You get to be a rock star and play all kinds of hit songs for your adoring fans all over the world!"

Apollo covered his face with one hand. He was pretty sure Gavin had already done all of that. "Trucy..."

"Ah, well, Herr Forehead's right. I don't really have time to play games with you." He tweaked the brim of Trucy's hat down to cover her eyes. "Maybe next time I'll stick around for a few rounds with you kids."

"Kids?" Apollo's eyebrows shot up. "Hey, you're not that much older than me."

"Well, experience and genius speak for themselves," Gavin said, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

"Funny, they've never helped you win a case against me."

The room went strangely silent. Apollo's eyes widened as he realized he'd actually said that out loud. "I, uh...that came out wrong. I just meant...I meant to say something else," he finished lamely.

"Really?" Gavin drawled, walking around the couch to pick up one of the controllers. "Maybe I haven't won a case against you, Herr Forehead...but maybe I don't need to. My ego can take a bruising, can yours?"

"Yes!" Trucy pumped one fist in the air. "Here, Polly, you can play bass, it's more fun that rhythm guitar."

"Huh?" Apollo found the second controller shoved into his hands. "Hey, wait, I thought you wanted to play, Trucy?"

"Ta-da!" Trucy pulled a microphone out of the game's box. "This is perfect, Polly, now I don't have to choose."

"We can't possibly lose now," Gavin commented, holding up one hand for a high-five from Trucy. "Ready, Herr Forehead?"

Apollo just gaped. How had...why had...why was he always getting in the middle of things like this?

"Polly," Trucy, hands on hips, glowered at him from her place in front of the TV. "Remember, you're representing the Wright Anything Agency with me."

Oh well. "Fine, but he has to have a handicap!"

...

"Tired?" Phoenix Wright asked the young woman walking next to him.

"Hngh...maybe a little," Athena admitted, stretching her arms up. "That last witness was really tough to get through to. I'm still not sure we got to the bottom of his emotional turmoil."

"There's always tomorrow. Gavin should have dropped off that folder by now, maybe there'll be some info in there to help you."

"I hope so," she said with a sigh. She turned the corner toward the agency but stopped as an unusual sound caught her attention. "Mr. Wright, do you hear that?"

"Sounds like Trucy's singing," he said. "Huh, that's an old one...'Mirror, Mirror', I haven't heard that since college."

"Mirror, mirror, tell me why...do I hide these tender eyes..."

Athena winced and covered her ears. "Is she singing karaoke? The guitar part's all right, but something's wrong with the bass track."

"I'd better tell her to turn it down," Phoenix commented, leading the way up the stairs to the office. "We don't want the neighbors to...oh."

Athena peered around her boss to see what had stopped him at the door. And stared.

Trucy, Apollo, and Klavier Gavin were gathered in front of the TV playing some kind of guitar-karaoke game. At least, that's what she assumed was happening. Trucy was singing her heart out, but Apollo seemed to be having trouble with his guitar. Gavin, on the other hand...

He was standing with his back to the TV, Apollo's necktie tied around his eyes, and a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves on his hands. And he was still hitting every note perfectly.

"Polly, come on! I can't believe you lost again!" Trucy complained. "Maybe we should pick something easier."

"It's not my fault he's a better player," Apollo replied, frustrated. "I think he needs another handicap, like tying one of his arms behind his back."

"Come, come, Herr Forehead," Gavin lifted the edge of his blindfold just enough to wink at Apollo. "You've already blindfolded me to see how I perform in a game of rhythm and dexterity, and now you want to tie me up? Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"I suppose we should rescue him," Mr. Wright murmured to Athena as Apollo blustered out an answer.

Athena grinned evilly. "Let me, boss," she whispered back. "Excuse me, are we interrupting?" she called.

The three players turned to face them: Trucy with a yell of greeting, Apollo with a face red enough to match his suit, and Gavin with an almost embarrassed smirk.

"Come on, Daddy," Trucy ran over to grab Mr. Wright by the arm. "You've got to take over bass for Polly, he's just terrible at it! Maybe you can beat Mr. Gavin."

"It's not my fault," Apollo protested again, relinquishing the control gladly.

"He was on expert and you were on beginner, Polly," Trucy retorted, trying to settle the guitar's strap over Mr. Wright's shoulders despite his protests. "I really don't see how we could have made it more fair."

Apollo gave a good-natured sort of grumble and stalked over to stand beside Athena. "He's got cotton in one ear, too," he muttered. "I can't believe he's just that much better than me."

Athena leaned back against the door frame and fiddled with her earring, studying the scene for a few moments as Trucy tried to convince her father to play. Something was prickling in her memory, something she really should have noticed right away. "Hey, Apollo?" she finally asked. "The gloves Mr. Gavin's wearing...aren't they the ones we use when we're cleaning the toilet?"

...

Original author's note:

Been stuck in my head for days now. What would happen if Klavier played Guitar Hero against Apollo? Yes, I understand it's different from playing a guitar, but it really does come down to a sense of rhythm, timing, and dexterity. Besides...I never said he hadn't played it before, did I?

Reminds me of my childhood. We had a winter Olympics game for the Atari, and I was so good at the bobsledding event my brothers used to stand in front of the TV to try to make me crash. I still won gold almost every time...mostly because they didn't think to cover the track map in the upper corner.

This story is not meant to be slash, but...come on, if you had the chance to tease Apollo Justice with a thinly-veiled innuendo wouldn't you take it? No matter your orientation? It's like when someone at work or school complains "I'm hot" and you say "Yeah, but you don't have to brag about it", it just has to be done.

[snezfics-n-shit]

Whumptober Day 25: Cranky

Fandom: Ace Attorney 

Characters: Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Trucy Wright, Athena Cykes, Apollo Justice

Notes: Post-DD. Established married!Wrightworth because what else did you expect? Miles has been taking time out of his schedule to care for the employees of the Wright Anything Agency after a particularly brutal cold season. He’s been doing great, he’ll swear on his life. The patience of a saint, that’s Miles Edgeworth for you. He is totally not going to completely lose it. 

     He couldn’t believe it. For the first time this week, Miles didn’t have to scrape perfectly decent breakfast, breakfast he made, into the garbage. He could have sworn it was proper etiquette for guests he and his husband so graciously welcomed in their home to at least try to clean their plates. 

“They live alone, babe. It’ll do them good for us to extend some hospitality,” he remembered Phoenix saying. At first, Miles didn’t mind at all. He may not have been any Florence Nightingale, but he saw merit in caring for his husband’s colleagues while they were unwell. He didn’t even complain when the two infected his husband with a cold that reduced his voice to a hoarse crackle and kept Miles awake with hours of coughing and sneezing assaulting his ears. No, no. It was no trouble at all, really.

He could have sworn when he first welcomed Apollo and Athena as guests, he was up for anything they asked for. He could prepare soup with his eyes closed, and by the second day of Phoenix’s cold, Miles was very tempted to do so just so he could say he got something resembling sleep. As the number of hands helping him dwindled to zero, Miles’s energy was wearing a little thin. Just a little thin, though, not too much at all.

Then there was the texting. Since Miles was the only one in the house whose voice was audible, his cell phone was constantly blowing up with short, grammatically lacking text messages. Hardly any of them allowed him time to fulfill one person’s request without being bombarded with other unrelated tasks they expected of him. He could make tea and he could check pages of calculus homework, but not simultaneously; there was only one of him. He would do it again, though, really. Go ahead, ask him to care for ten sick people, and for a month this time. Just direct a hospital’s worth of patients to his house, why don’t you?

Oh, no, Miles wasn’t losing his patience at all. He was mature and collected, so he brought anything his family and guests asked for without a complaint. That was true, wasn’t it? Or did thoughts to himself about how tired he was getting from running around the house grabbing whatever anyone wanted count? He was doing so well the first three days of the arrangement, so surely at the tail end of the week his eyes shouldn’t be twitching from exhaustion he was most definitely not feeling.

“I’m really happy to finally taste your cooking, Mr. Edgeworth.” Athena’s recovered voice startled Miles. He had almost forgotten more people could speak than just him. “Trucy kept telling me you were a really good cook, and I’m definitely not disappointed.” Something about that felt underhanded, Miles was sure of it. She was doubting his skills as a cook, wasn’t she?

“You’ve been really good to us, Papa.” Trucy smiled. “Thank you so much!” Of course Trucy was the first to verbally thank him for his efforts. She was taught manners and was clearly not raised in a barn. And no, Apollo, emojis and ‘memes’ did not count.

“You’re very,” Miles heard his voice crack and cleared his throat, “you’re very welcome, Trucy.” 

“Yeah, thank you so much, hon.” Phoenix was the second person Miles could count on for gratitude. What Miles really wanted to hear, however, was an apology for all the sleep he lost thanks to Phoenix’s poor volume control late at night. There was always something, be it sniffling, sneezing, or coughing that would start just as Miles thought he finally had some peace and quiet.

“Thanks.” Apollo said nothing besides that and continued eating the last of his toast. What a wordsmith, wasn’t he? A real Shakespeare.

“You’re both quite welcome as well.” Miles’s nose twitched ever so slightly as he spoke. “Are you all finished? I’d like to,” he cleared his throat again, “clean the dishes soon.” He knew no one would bother helping him with the task. They all had much more important things to do like watch television or play games on their phones.

Just as he thought, all responses were a chorus of confirming they were finished eating and not a single offer to help. Despite the fact they were all clearly more than ready to be back on their feet, Miles was on his own in carrying the pile of dishes to the counter by the sink. None of the dishes were his. He wasn’t hungry, and the lord knew he wasn’t about to be a hypocrite by committing the horrid act of wasting food. He would never be so ungrateful, so wasteful, so--

“Oh, I’d actually like a refill of orange juice.” Apollo asked, just as he always did since he arrived last Thursday.

“Your legs aren’t broken.” Miles snapped without even thinking about what he had just said.

“Woah, where did that come from?” Athena was taken aback by Miles’s harsh tone.

“YEAH, SOMEONE’S CRANKY!” Widget blurted in its usual loud and robotic tone, further irritating Miles.

“Would you mind telling that thing to put a sock in it?” Miles clenched his teeth, becoming more frustrated when Phoenix stopped him from reaching for his dishwashing gloves.

“Hey, if something’s bothering you, just tell us.” Phoenix wanted to de-escalate as well as he could. “Did something happen at work?”

“I wouldn’t know, Phoenix. I haven’t been in the office all week!” Miles was so caught up in the outburst he failed to hear how hoarse he sounded. He hardly thought anything when the strain caused him to cough. 

“Oh, babe.” Phoenix’s expression softened. “You’re not feeling well, are you?” He kissed his husband’s forehead. “Mm, you’re warm, too.”

“Please, not in front of guests. Not to mention-- mention, hhh…” Miles turned away from Phoenix’s concerned gaze. “Hh’uurrssSHH” He sneezed in his elbow, leaving a damp spot on his pink pajama sleeve. He instinctively pressed a hand under his running nose, not doing anything to get Phoenix off his back. He wasn’t even done yet. “Hu’RRsshhooh! HH’RSSHOOH!” How disgusting.

“We can do the dishes, Papa!” Trucy offered. She looked at Apollo and Athena, who both nodded in agreement. “It’s only right to return the favor.” What a sweetheart she was, absolutely her father’s daughter.

“You’re going back to bed.” Phoenix put his head on Miles’s shoulder and embraced him from behind. “We’re not going to let you lift a finger.”

Miles found himself spacing out for the duration of Phoenix ushering him to bed. He really was out of sorts, wasn’t he? He couldn’t even remember stepping out of the kitchen. It was almost dreamlike to find himself bundled up in bed. 

“Are you okay?” Phoenix waved his hand in front of Miles’s face. “It was way too easy to get you into bed and you haven’t said anything since we were in the kitchen.” He gently took Miles’s glasses and set them aside.

“Of course I’b dot okay.” Miles grumbled, turning on his right side. “I haved’t slept ihd days, we have the worst house guests I’ve ever had the displeasure of beetig, ahd by owd husbahd wod’t eved let be wash the dishes.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine this morning.” Phoenix brushed Miles’s hair with his fingers. “My poor sick grouch of a husband.” He cooed.

“I’b dot a grouch.” Miles frowned, hardly supporting his claim. 

“What would you call yourself, then?” Phoenix made a small hum. “With how you acted in the kitchen, I wouldn’t be surprised if you poked your head out of a trashcan and told us to scram.”  

“I wasd’t by best, was I?” Miles knew that was the understatement of the year. That tickle in his throat that pestered him, admittedly since he went to bed last night, finally became a full-fledged cough. “I feel awful.” He croaked.

“I know, babe.” Phoenix sighed. “It’s our turn to take care of you, now. You did so much all by yourself, we’re gonna show you how grateful we are. You’ll even have Apollo and Athena to-”

“Doh.” Miles said firmly. “They’re goi’g hobe. Today.”

“Alright, alright. Then it’ll be just me and Trucy.”

“That’s better.” 

Phoenix helped Miles sit up so he could fluff the pillow behind him. He gave a sympathetic smile as he listened to Miles’s thick, hardly effective sniffling. 

“You must be so tired.” Phoenix let Miles lie back down. “I’m sorry if I kept you up all night.”

“I ab ahd you did.” Miles confirmed flatly. 

Miles just closed his eyes for a moment, only to be disturbed by something poking into his mouth. He made a soft grunt, dismissing it until that horrible beeping had him opening his eyes again. He watched a blurry figure resembling Phoenix walk outside his field of vision, only for the figure to return a few moments later. He felt something cold and damp rest on his forehead and flinched from the dramatic contrast in temperature. 

“Is it too cold?” Phoenix’s voice was muffled by Miles’s congestion-affected hearing. When Miles shook his head in response, Phoenix gave a sympathetic smile and gently adjusted the cool compress in place. He looked over at the doorway and spotted Athena and Apollo watching from outside the room. He mouthed something along the lines of ‘he’s resting.’

“I should apologize.” Miles said groggily. “The way I acted was terribly rude.”

“Hey, hey.” Phoenix shushed his husband softly. “You weren’t feeling like yourself this morning. Athena and Apollo aren’t strangers, and Trucy and I definitely know you wouldn’t act like that on a regular basis.” He kissed his warm cheek. “You were just a little cranky, is all.”

“That’s dot ad excuse.” Miles closed his eyes again. “It was udcalled for.”

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Athena couldn't help but speak up. "We accept your apology, but the boss is right. We know you don't always act like that."

"You were pretty rude." Apollo muttered just before Athena gave him a light nudge with her elbow. "But, uh," he scratched the back of his head, "we probably deserved it." 

Miles refused to have a serious discussion sounding like he did, so he yanked about five or six tissues from the end table tissue box. The amount seemed to be just enough by the time he was done. He checked the remaining contents of the box before tossing the used tissues in the trash bin.

“No one deserved the harsh words I used.” What Miles’s voice lost in congestion was made up for in hoarseness. “It wasn’t right.”

“You can’t be on model behavior all the time, hon.” Phoenix massaged Miles’s hand with his thumb. He noticed Miles starting to look annoyed again. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too nice about this.” Miles grumbled. His mood wasn’t completely improved. He would come up with more excuses to wallow in excess guilt if he wasn’t so, so very tired. 

The next thing the trio of lawyers heard from him was one of his ‘world famous’ snores, as Phoenix jokingly described them when Miles wasn’t in the room. Miles was completely out cold when Trucy tiptoed in, intending on telling him the dishes were clean and put away. 

“Papa’s asleep?” Trucy whispered and Phoenix answered with a nod. “Don’t worry,” she directed her assurance to Apollo and Athena, “he’ll be in a better mood when he wakes up, I promise.”

. . .

     It was two in the afternoon when Miles finally woke up. All built up grumpiness washed away in his sleep and with a clear head, he felt as if he were in good enough shape to climb out of bed and see if his family needed anything. Just as he reached for his glasses, he found an envelope that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t sealed, so the card inside slid out easily into his hand. 

The card was handmade, covered in variations of ‘Thank You’ written in different colored pencils. It was easy to tell whose message was whose, especially Athena’s multilingual expressions of gratitude and Phoenix’s barely legible handwriting. Miles felt himself tear up a little, not noticing Phoenix and Trucy standing by the bedroom doorway.

“We thought you’d appreciate that.” Phoenix was holding a steaming mug of tea, likely made just recently. He either had very strong husband intuition or just planned on waking Miles up when it was ready. He took a couple tissues from the box on the end table to use as a makeshift coaster to set the mug down on. “You should also know our guests left today as promised.”

“Before they left, we all made that card.” Trucy had her hands behind her back. “It was Polly’s idea!” 

So Apollo was grateful after all. No, no. Miles wasn’t going to let himself fall back into that sort of attitude.

“We were going to make you soup but we didn’t know for sure if you would be hungry.” Phoenix handed the mug over to Miles, who accepted it gratefully. He watched Miles take a moment to inhale the steam with that smile he always had whenever Phoenix made him tea. There was a quality in Phoenix’s brews that Miles could never replicate no matter how hard he tried. “I’m glad to see you smiling again.”

“I think tea will suffice, thank you.” Miles’s voice was in worse shape than before. If this was how he sounded the first day into this cold, he wasn’t at all looking forward to the upcoming days that would surely go downhill from here. “I would hate to waste any of your cooking.”

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix chuckled nervously, “sorry about all that food you had to throw out. While you were sleeping, Trucy and I realized that must have bothered you a lot.” Indeed it did, as ashamed as Miles now felt for letting it get to him. 

“I accept your apology,” Miles took a sip from the mug, “if only because you make a wonderful cup of tea.” He laughed briefly, causing a vibrating sensation in his chest that made him need to cough. 

“Oh! Right!” Trucy presented what she had been hiding behind her back: a brand new jar of vapor rub. “We picked this up today! Do you want to put this on yourself or should Daddy do it?” 

“I think I can do this myself.” Miles set down the mug so he could take the jar. He had just started dating Phoenix when he first experienced the substance’s decongestant properties. Phoenix applied it the first few times, but Miles was never a fan of how Phoenix knew exactly what parts of his chest were ticklish. He did, however, like how Phoenix was not at all judgmental about his unfamiliarity with the product. 

“I did say you wouldn’t be lifting a finger.” Phoenix ruffled his husband’s hair. “I’m kidding, of course. Just know if there’s anything you need, you say the word and we’ll get it for you.”

“And I would like you to know,” Miles kissed Phoenix’s cheek, “if I’m too demanding, just tell me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

Phoenix was just going to pretend he didn’t see Miles’s devilish smirk just then.

[turnaboutimagines]

Hi yes hello kind and amazing writer I was just wondering if at all possible you could hand some sweet headcanons of Phoenix being in a relationship with a forensic psychologist. Gets called in to testify sometimes. Maybe does some counseling on the side. I'm so happy you are writing and I wish you good health and an easy modship of this blog. ♡♡♡

Ooh, psychology!!!!  Mainly focused on abnormal psych in my undergrad, so I everything I know about Forensic psychology is from research I’ve done for an OC of mine aldsjfalkdsjf.    But thank you so much for the well-wishes!!!  I really appreciate it, pal.  ;w;Reader’s a forensic psychologist who works by hire for the courthouse and attorneys.  I kept the specialization vague, though!  ^^

The two of you met through your mutual work at the courthouse.  You ended up testifying as an expert witness for the court and, ultimately, helped by validating his arguments about the defendant’s mental state of being.

He was very impressed by your performance as an expert witness… and he thought you were cute, too.

From then on, you are his go-to psychology person during his initial stint as a defense attorney!  If he has any questions, you’re going to be the first person he goes to.

During the flirting stage of your relationship, he’d often intentionally come up with questions exclusively just to talk with you.

He loves hearing you talk about forensic psychology because it’s something that you’re very passionate about.  

Plus, it’s a subject that can help him while working with his defendants and witnesses.  The extra knowledge helps him navigate things a bit more smoothly and improve his wording with questions.  

Makes a point to text you to let you know when something you told him has helped, he likes showing you that he listens and appreciates everything you tell him.

Forensic psychology isn’t something he knows a ton about outside of the bits and pieces attorneys learn in law school, but he tacks on some extra reading both for his own education… but also because he wants to be able to talk with you more about what you do.

However, he mainly looks up terms and vocabulary he can use to a) impress you, b) make bad jokes with, and c) come up with one-liners with that he may or may not actually use.

The Wright & Co. Law Offices doesn’t have a lot of extra money around to spend on hiring expert counsel like yourself, but you believe in what Phoenix does and often offer him your services pro bono.

He falls a little bit in love with you the first time you make the offer to him, very appreciative of your support.

Your input often helps him connect the dots of a case more quickly and give him something to base his bluffing off of.  

Cases that you work together always go more smoothly than his others, which he appreciates immensely.  It gives him more time to spend with you, after all!

Your job is more involved in delving into the some of humanity’s worst, having to analyze people’s mental states and provide therapeutic support and education.

Phoenix is very considerate of that side of your job and he can’t help but worry for your well-being at times.

He’s seen his fair share of breakdowns in court and he’s just concerned about you potentially getting caught up with one of the more violent types.

All you have to do is say that you had a rough day at work and you are getting a one way train ticket to the Wright cuddles express.

Vent to him as much as you need, he is always there for you!

He actually looks into self-care and mindfulness stuff after hearing you talk about it and he helps you keep up on it!

He’s surprisingly good at reading guided meditations aloud, but he’ll always end it in a silly way by coaxing you into a kiss or something similar.

Being the snarky man that he is, you may sometimes get the “Are you psychoanalyzing me?” joke at ridiculous times.

“Nick, why is the office toilet sparkling clean, but the rest of the office look like a tornado passed through it?”“…Are you psychoanalyzing me?”“What?  No!  I’m trying to point out that maybe we should spend some time today cleaning the office…”“Aha, so psychological manipulation, then?”“Nick!”

Speaking of which, after he’s disbarred he stays in touch with the legal world through you and Edgeworth, both.  

He’s glad to provide you with any support he can, returning the favor for all the invaluable counsel you’d provided him back when he was an attorney.

But you have to pay him in kisses, though!

[vonlipvig]

Top 5 movies! And top five video games

Ooh, the fact that I only watch 2 movies and play like...1 videogame dfjhdfkj but I’LL TRY.

Top 5 Movies:

(5) The Greatest Showman: WELL, I’M A THEATER GAY, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT. I’ve said everything there is to say about the Problematic aspect of it, but it’s a Banger, it makes me happy, I love it (also it’s my mom’s fave so I love that, too).

(4) Mamma Mia!: WELL, I’M A THEATER GAY, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT. Like, it’s Mamma Mia, need I say more? (I want to be back at the Mamma Mia Sing Along movie showing, I haven’t been as happy since).

(3) Death At A Funeral: I like stupid movies, and the one thing I’m gonna say is the Brits make some deliciously stupid movies. I haven’t watched this one in a while so like, whatever, but it was so ridiculous and hilarious and I just love that kind of stuff. I am Not an Intellectual.

(2) Clue: One of the 2 movies I watch over and over again. Clue is just a masterpiece of comedy, and there will never be a time where my friend and I don’t go “LET US IN, LET US IN” “LET US OUT, LET US OUT” at each other. It’s delightfully funny, incredibly quotable, and just an all around Great Time.

(1) Inception: And literally Nobody was Surprised. Christoper Nolan went my movie is gonna live rent free in your mind for the rest of your life and I went yes sir thank you sir. My most Absolute Fave Movie ever. 

(Shout out to Airplane! and Monty Python and the Holy Grail as well! I love having a laff!)

Top 5 videogames (actually video game franchises):

(5) Jackbox Party Games: Absolutely essential at any get-together (or zoom get-together now). They’re just so fun to play, and it’s always fun to invite new people into the insanity that is JB. My faves that I have are Trivia Murder Party (literally nobody trusts me with the money minigame, I wonder why...) and Fakin’ It, which is a BLAST.

(4) Professor Layton: I have such a fondness for the PL games. I used to play Curious Village with my mom, and we’d have such a great time solving puzzles together. I’ve only played the DS games, but still, I love the series a lot. Unwound Future punched me in the gut and it was wonderful.

(3) Zero Escape: And fueling my love and excitement for escape rooms is the ZE series. What a fantastic adventure it is, I wish I could go back and play them for the very first time again. My fave of the three is Virtue’s Last Reward, it really blew my mind also i’m sigma kin lmao joke or nOT.

(2) Trauma Center: TC slaps so hard and Atlus is a little bitch. But yeah, the TC games are so much fun but also DAMN HARD, I have never been able to beat UtK1 up to this day. I love them a lot, I love the characters dearly, and although I’m more of a TC person than a TT person, I love them all and I just wish we could have a nEW GAME, ATLUS, GODDA-

(1) Ace Attorney: GAY LAWYER SIM! Ace Attorney has been in my life for over 10 years now, and it’s one of my most beloved interests ever. Before I knew what fandom was, I had my friends to joke around with and do mock trials with yes i was the resident phoenix wright and like, I can’t really imagine my teenhood without AA. It’s so much fun, so delightful, so full of amazing characters and stories and excitement, I reccommend everyone to play it!

Ask me my Top 5 Anything!

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

11 & 18 for Percival, 3 for Ray, and 8 & 9 for Floyd ❤❤❤

Ooooh thank you for all these Nemi!

11). Does your OC have any phobias?

Unfortunately, I don’t believe that Percival does! He’s got his fair share of fears and insecurities, but no outright phobias. Ahaha and dang, really coming at Percival’s fears tonight judging by the next question.

18).  Did your OC have any strange childhood fears?

Ooh, strange by most people’s standards you mean? Because Percival was so scared of water wells when he was younger. Heard a very fake story about falling down one and took a while to get that out of his head. Living on the ocean has definitely helped that one, though.

Hmmm other things? Well, the rational fear of being murdered was certainly enough to keep him up at night, make him scared of falling asleep too. Hot drinks made him uneasy at the very least. That’s about all I’ve got for the moment.

3). What sound makes your OC want to burst their own eardrums?

Not what this question is looking for, but for Ray the first thing that came to mind was people talking while he’s trying to say something. He tries to be nice and patient, but when people talk right over him that just really grinds his gears. He wants to get information out once without repeating it, and interruptions don’t help that. 

As for general sounds, squeaky hinges or those kinds of high pitched sounds tend to get on his nerves. Especially on a rocking ship, if there’s a door that creaks then it’ll be shifting with the waves and constantly making some kind of noise. He makes sure to keep something around to grease up hinges whenever it’s needed.

8). What is your OC’s least favorite food?

Oh hmmm okay so I’ve never had it myself, but I feel like Floyd absolutely despises curry. He’s not used to more flavorful foods in general and most of them he can handle fine, but curry just. eugh. He can’t stand it. Also, I don’t think he likes a lot of things with tomatoes in them either, so there’s that. Otherwise, I don’t know a whole lot about Floyd’s food preferences. He’s open to most anything.

9). What is, or would be your OC’s favorite video game

Okay, so I’m actually making myself really emotional over this for no reason. I was just thinking about how Floyd would probably appreciate more mundane games, especially if this was post-recovery Floyd. He’s already lived enough excitement. Video games would be somewhere he’d escape to, a different world to lose himself in. 

My first thoughts were games like Stardew Valley and Harvest Moon, and while I think he’d appreciate them, the lack of a driven plot may make him less interested. While he’s not in this for the stress and action, Floyd needs a bit of push and motivation to do things. So, my brain switched tracks.

I was considering the Professor Layton series (a puzzle, adventure, visual novel sort of series for those who don’t know), and I think that’s a very viable choice for Floyd. It would take a while for him to get a hang of it, and he’d definitely struggle with all the puzzles, but he’d have a lot of fun thinking through them, and roping everyone around him into it too! Yes, I am dragging everyone into a modern AU setting so Floyd can curl up in their little base, play DS, and run around to each of the other crew members to ask their individual opinions on different puzzles until they work out a solution together. After a while, he’d know who was best with which kinds of problems and went to them when he got one he thought they’d enjoy. And everyone would love this! So much! I’m gonna cry I maybe actually have to formulate a proper modern AU to flesh out ideas like this.

But wait! There’s more! My thought after Professor Layton was to jump to other visual novel-ish games, and that landed me at Ace Attorney. While I’m unsure just how much Floyd would like Ace Attorney, especially with the stress and darker themes of murder and moral questions, I had a Thought. Professor Layton VS Phoenix Wright. This is the Floyd game. Oh my gosh. Graphics and design he’d appreciate? Totally. A good mix of casual puzzle solving and more high-octane court sequences that push him to solve the mystery? Yes! The satisfaction of feeling like he’s helping people just by solving puzzles for them? Yeah!!!! This is ringing all the bells for Floyd and I just. Also. Think he’d be in Love with the voice acting and cutscenes. And he’d relate preeetty heavily to Luke, and just fall in love with Luke the professor in general. And I!!! Think this game would just spark a lot of joy for Floyd!!!!!

[gottagobuycheese]

Tag Thingy

Thanks @silent--sonata for indulging my terrible sleeping habits XD

(fyi this will probably be unnecessarily long and rambly, so it’s going under a cut (EDIT: whelp the song list got a little out of hand, I’d apologize if I were even remotely sorry)) 

Rules: Answer 17 questions & tag 17 people you want to get to know better  

Nickname: Cheese (or Lactose Wedge, or Dairy Product of Unspecified Origin and Purpose)

Zodiac Sign: Gemini! 

Height: 160.5 cm/5′3″ (Bubbles I refuse to believe you’re actually that much taller than me) 

Hogwarts house: Somewhere between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff allegedly, both of which I’d be honored to get sorted into, but honestly I’d just be stoked to get sorted at all 

Last thing I googled: I think it was something along the lines of “how to speed up audio playback in GarageBand,” but but my train of thought was derailed before I actually looked at any of the results so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (and on a related note, thanks again for the magical audio editing @imperiousheiress!)

Song stuck in my head: The end credits to Legacy of the Wizard (which is SUCH a jam, thank you for enlightening me @jessicafish) Following and followers: 227 (goodness just looking at that number is stress-inducing) and...104?! When the HECK did you all get here??? I think just last summer I was happily floating about in the 50′s. Anyways, to anyone I have not said hello, hello! Hope you enjoy your stay, and I am sincerely sorry if you expected Quality Original Content, or even just regularly scheduled other people’s content. Sadly, neither of these things tend to happen here. 

Amount I sleep: During the school year it’s usually anywhere between 30 minutes and 6 hours (DON’T EVEN START BUBBLES YOU HAVE NO RIGHT), usually landing in the 3/4 hour ranges if I’m smart about it, but now that I am on Unofficial Break, it’s usually at least around 6 hours (except today was 3 because Avatar is an excellent show and the weirdos in this house have regularly scheduled breakfast at 9-something every morning). Sadly my sleep schedule can only be forced to tolerate normalcy for so long before careening back in the other direction, so we’ll see if this is just a blip or if we’re back to normal mid-Atlantic Ocean hours!

Lucky number(s): I wouldn’t say these are necessarily favorite numbers, but I do like 2 and 9. But come to think of it, second attempts at Official Things do tend to go better for me than first attempts, so maybe there’s some merit there after all! Dream Job: Don’t think I’m really cut out for dreaming anymore, haha (unless you are a theoretical future employer in which case I am Extremely Full of Ambition and Passion). The bed-adjacent metaphor has been made, and not to brag, but I can sleep on pretty much any surface. Currently studying my Not Favorite aspect of STEM (was there ever a favorite or did I just like being good at things sometimes) and learning how to People™ properly (and also learning a gazillion convoluted drug names like what the heck dude, did you just fall asleep on your typewriter coming up with these), so I’ll take whatever place hires me and pays me enough not to depend on my parents for everything, I suppose. In an ideal world, that would entail a job where I could make friends, and even more importantly, a job where my shortcomings would not cause Massive and Irreparable Harm, but I don’t think this line of work really meshes with that last one, so I guess I’ll either have to get my shit together™ extremely soon or fake my death, adopt an alias, and flee to a completely new place with no ties whatsoever before trying to get another, less high stakes job. 

(Though I guess, less cynically, I like helping people well enough? And stories are fun! Maybe there could’ve been something with that. Not that there still can’t be, mind, but there’s still a long way to go between Here and There)

Wearing: Black shorts. Navy t-shirt. Brown some-specific-kind-of-jacket-I-forgot-the-name-of jacket. Is it summer? Is it fall? Am I in middle school? Who can say, but they are COMFY so sadly I have no cares to give

Favourite song(s): way way WAY too many to list here, and I do not have them all organized in a handy playlist separately, but to name a few (and these are not necessarily the MOST favorite okay, it doesn’t mean I don’t love stuff not on this list, it means you can’t force me to pick between my children and I am going to find at least one quick thing from a few things I like before I need to hit post and go back to looking like I’m being studious, and also things I think you should listen to right now, but for everything I’ve linked assuming I mean the whole OST), here’s a spam of links in no particular order: 

LoZ Wind Waker - The Great Sea (aka the epitome of optimism) 

Undertale - NGAHHH!! (I was about to link more but then I realized it’d be the whole soundtrack lol) 

LoZ Breath of the Wild - Hateno Village (Night) 

A:tLA - Peace (bad call BAD CALL NOW I HAVE EMOTIONS) 

Legend of Korra - Final Scene/Ending Theme (MISTAKES WERE MADE MISTAKES WERE MADE) 

Kung Fu Panda - Oogway Ascends (I feel like I’m taking you on a whole little album journey now XD) 

PMD: Explorers of Sky - Dialga’s Fight to the Finish (aka the Gotta Shower Fast song) 

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Pursuit ~ Cornered (aka the HURRY UP AND PACK UR SHIT YOUR FLIGHT LEAVES IN THREE HOURS song) 

Apollo Justice: A New Trial Is In Session (very underrated soundtrack imo) and also Apollo Justice: Telling the Truth (because these two are very closely associated in my head and it’s getting harder and harder to narrow things down so maybe I should stop lol) 

Your Name: Katawaredoki (in which I am forcibly thrown heart first into the bedroom of my second apartment at approximately 12-something A.M.) 

Digimon Adventure 01: Butterfly (MASSIVE 90′s childhood anime feels, and also Last Summer Before Everything Went to Shit feels (on a general scale I mean, not personal)) 

Pokémon: Lugia’s Song multitrack cover by Jordan Moore (would that I could have a talent of that musical talent) 

Pokémon the First Movie: Tears of Life (great now I’m on a Pokémon music spiral GUESS IT’S CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA HOURS NOW) 

PMD: Blue Rescue Team - Farewell and Run Away/Fugitives (you CANNOT make me choose between these guys okay, my brain WILL explode, and whoops now I want to link the whole ost) 

Palette by A Dear Friend (wink wonk) 

Pokémon: Alpha Sapphire - Fortree City (wow talk about mood whiplash)

Detective Conan: Main Theme (I can’t find the specific version since there are so many, but it’s a Good Theme) 

Super Smash Bros.: Brawl - Opening Theme 

Pokémon Colosseum - Relic Forest 

Song for Lindsay by Andrew Boysen Jr. (oh great now it’s time for marching band feelings I guess)

Mt. Everest by Rossano Galante 

Deltarune - Field of Hopes and Dreams and A Town Called Hometown (orchestrated) (aka the Lots of Work To Do song) and You Can Always Come Home and Don’t Forget (hey guess what I wrote a bunch of fake extra verses for) (also it looks my pathetic attempts at narrowing things down are getting even more pathetic so I’ll wrap up soon XD) 

 Guild Wars 2 - Fear Not This Night (never actually played this myself but my friend got me addicted to the music) 

Lord of the Rings - May It Be (Enya) (aaaand now I miss choir, THANKS BUBBLES) 

Lion King - Can You Feel the Love Tonight (Multilingual) by Travys Kim (aka how I remembered how fun these things are) 

Original Song by Anonymous  

(The urge to add all the other songs I’m not adding is so strong but I’ve got so much work to do so just assume I mean all Nintendo music from any game I’ve played, all Ghibli movie music, every musical I’ve ever heard, and even more) 

Random fact:

Apparently as early as the 17th century, you could guess that a child would have a shortened life span if their foreheads tasted salty. Yes, there is a specific reason, and yes, you may already know what it is, and thankfully no, that life span projection no longer holds true, assuming access to Modern Medicine! 

Favourite Authors: Okay I have not read enough various books of enough various authors to be able to answer this, so I’m just gonna go with a few books instead. They are not necessarily all-time favorites, but I enjoyed reading them very much at the time and more often than not go back to them for comfort reads: The Martian, any of first three Harry Potter books, and The Rise of Kiyoshi. (That last one’s not really a comfort read but I am drowning in Loving Kiyoshi juice so here we are)

Favourite Animal Noises: Certain kinds of birds (UNLESS it’s some ungodly hour of the morning and you’re trying to sleep)? Ooh, and crickets! 

Aesthetic: A slob, but like...a comfy slob. An incredibly disorganized hermit who is happy to mill about in the uncontrolled entropy. (Are we talking about what aesthetic I give off, or what I like to look at, visually? Because I like space, and water, and mountains, and forests, and forests ON mountains, OOH and forests on mountains at night where you can see space, perhaps reflected in a body of water. Or just water, idk. Different things are pretty to look at at different times)

WELL THAT ONLY TOOK FOREVER SORRY FOR THE OBSCENE LENGTH 

@pachelbelsheadcanon @averybritishbumblebee @shingeki-no-korra @sailorlock @yeswevegotavideo @soultheta @queenerdloser @ifeelbetterer @rogueofdragons @peppervl @amadness2method @mutalune and anybody else who wants to do this! This isn’t seventeen, and I don’t know if any of you have already done it/been tagged, but I hear people moving around upstairs so that means this break is over XD. And ABSOLUTELY no pressure to actually do this, this is pretty much just me wishing you well! (and YOU of course, my dear reader! I hope everything’s going all right, or if it’s not, that it does soon)

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Chapter 18: Klavier and Phoenix both know weird people, and Apollo is always suffering for it. also, there is the inescapable passage of time.

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

In four successive days, Apollo spots crows following him on six different occasions.

The first is sitting at the kitchen window the morning after his conversation with Klavier. It watches him with a critical eye, and remembering that he has the magatama sitting on his dresser needing to be returned to Phoenix today, he goes to get it. Just out of curiosity, really; but the crow is gone when he gets back.

He counts as part of that same occasion the crows digging around in the dumpsters around back of the office when he arrives. After Klavier mentioned a witch and a crow hanging around bothering him, he doesn’t think he won’t be able to notice crows, but the trash seems like normal crow behavior. He knows they’re smart, but there was something very uncomfortable about the staring of the one earlier. He doesn’t bother with the magatama in his pocket.

Even though Phoenix did imply that he did want Apollo to go chase down Klavier, he doesn’t know whether that was supposed to be in the middle of a Thursday, without preamble, and not asking to take the magatama on the way out. Biking over, he prepared excuses. Phoenix enters the office around 10 am and Apollo, offering the magatama, cannot even get through “Sorry—” before Phoenix cuts him off.

“No worries. How’s Klavier doing?” Phoenix flips the magatama over in his hand the way Trucy sometimes spins playing cards.

“Not good,” Apollo says, because he simply wasn’t, “but I don’t think going for ‘spiraling off a cliff’, either.”

“That’s good to hear.” Phoenix is still fiddling with the magatama. “If you can, keep an eye on him still, would you?”

“Uh,” Apollo says. “Yeah, okay?”

Trucy shows up in the afternoon, her arrival heralded by her outside yelling, “Stop eating trash! You’re better than this!” and Apollo counts that as Crow Encounter 1.5.

-

The second is in the building lobby when he and Clay head out grocery shopping over the weekend. All three of them freeze and stare at each other. “You see it, right?” Apollo asks. Clay nods.

Apollo holds the door open for it on the way out and it squawks at him.

The third is at the kitchen window again that evening, every time he looks. He doesn’t have a magatama this time, can’t do anything but glare back at it. It flies away, croaking loudly, when he brandishes a barbecue wing (Clay ordered them and invited Mr Starbuck over to watch hockey) at it. He doesn’t answer the two of them when they ask what he’s laughing at when he returns to the living room, not really wanting to talk about witches right then.

By the fourth, he’s figured out how to distinguish one of them. If there are several together, if he looks closely, one of them looks almost blue – a dark, glossy navy blue, but still blue – compared to any other. There’s no apparent pattern in the next crow sightings whether the bluish one is there or not. After the sixth, when it is there on a bench in People Park and doesn’t fly away when he and Trucy and Vera approach to eat, but instead just hops around his feet, he offers it an egg and gives up both on counting and on pattern-searching. That one is probably the familiar, he thinks, harassing Apollo whenever it can be spared from its work – though what use a bird is to a prosecutor, he has no idea.

The crows, he doesn’t mention to Klavier. He’s not sure if he should say something like “you should go say hi to your witch coworker so that I stop being stalked by birds as your one apparent human contact” when, since having seen each other in person, since that last thanks, their texts have not strayed from light, stupid remarks. Klavier complains about Vongole’s shenanigans (having apparently not yet hellhound-proofed his fridge) or passes along the weirdest out-of-context statements he hears in the halls (if that implies that he has rejoined office social life, Apollo doesn’t know); Apollo relays Trucy’s best and worst jokes or sends a snapshot of Vera’s latest painting. Phoenix catches him texting and asks, every time, if it’s Klavier. He does this every two days, then every three; then every week, like he’s willing to lengthen the leash with the consistency of the knowledge that – Klavier is alive? It’s a bleak thought, that Phoenix might be expecting otherwise.

October slips into November. The office gets colder; more blankets manifest on top of bookshelves and on desks and chairs and are thrown at Apollo’s head. He’s almost grown used to Phoenix’s constant presence, is used to, to the point of sometimes forgetting, Vera’s. Trucy starts a Youtube channel and makes getting work done in the afternoons difficult recording videos of little sleight-of-hand magic tricks, drags the wifi to a crawl uploading them. She records a cover of My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness, and then another one where she changes all the pronouns, and Apollo sends both to Klavier. She doesn’t talk much about fae magic anymore, tries to get Apollo into professional wrestling, and sometimes he pretends he didn’t see her sitting at Phoenix’s desk with the mitamah cradled in her hands. Vera tries to paint her nails in the office once and Phoenix gags on the smell. He asks Apollo what he’s been talking to Klavier about lately.

Toward the end of November, Apollo is alone at the office, reorganizing some paperwork for the little cases he’s managed to pick up, when he hears the front office door loudly creak open and someone yell, “‘Sup, Mia! Eyyo, Niii-iick!”

Apollo pokes his head out, not sure what or who he will find, and certainly not expecting a man wearing red skinny jeans and a blazer jacket so orange that Apollo feels compelled to tell him that Halloween was last month. The beret doesn’t really help the costume effect. “Hello?” Apollo calls. “Do you need something?”

(He’s learned from Iris’ warning.)

“You must be Apollo! Nick’s told me about you, like, once, but he’s pretty shit about keeping everyone up-to-date, so I figure that’s good. Is he around or am I gonna have to camp out here until he finds his way back?” The man wanders in past the couches to examine Vera’s smaller paintings propped up on the piano. “Ooh, nice.”

“Um, who are you?” Apollo asks.

“He hasn’t told you about me?” Apollo shakes his head. “‘Course he hasn’t. Nick’s useless. The name’s Laurice Deauxnim, call me Larry. Everyone does, except everyone who doesn’t.” He extends a hand and Apollo stares stupidly at him for a few seconds before he realizes that he should shake it. “Nick didn’t tell you I’d be coming around?” Apollo shakes his head again. “Seriously, Nick, c’mon.” Larry turns his eyes to the ceiling and spreads his hands wide. “Useless, am I right?” he entreats the ceiling, or maybe Mia, considering that he had mentioned her name on arrival. He must know Phoenix well, to know her. “Anyway, I’m an author-artist, I was off on a book tour-new inspiration tour-vacation kinda thing when he talked to me about your changeling friend, but now I am back, baby.”

A pillow hits Larry in the face, and not softly lobbed the way blankets hit Apollo or Trucy, but like it came straight from an air cannon.

“Uh,” Apollo says.

Larry tosses it back at the couch. “Good talk, Mia.”

“I have no idea when either Mr Wright or Vera are going to get here,” Apollo says. If he thinks back, he can remember Phoenix saying that there was someone he had to introduce Vera to – but he can’t imagine this man, orange and red to Vera’s blues and purples, in any way having any way to relate to her. He can imagine Vera retreating back somewhere into the kitchen and not coming back out. He also can imagine purgatory, which is what waiting around for Phoenix in the same office space as this man will be. Iris may have been cryptic and terrifying, but she was quiet.

It’s about ten minutes of some chatter that Apollo tunes out, Larry examining Vera’s paintings and brushes and talking probably mostly to himself, occasionally looking to Apollo like he expects a response he doesn’t get. They both turn expectantly to the door as it opens, and Trucy wanders in with some boxes of Eldoon’s stacked high. “Uncle Larry!” she yelps. “You’re here!”

Uncle, huh. The last one of those was Valant, and this Larry seems to be at least at that level of eccentric, but on Phoenix’s side, not Zak’s.

“Sure am, kiddo! Where’s your dad? He still sleeping, or he finally quit that stupid club?”

“Yeah, he just didn’t go back after the murder trial,” Trucy says. Her smile takes on a bit of a plastic quality as she says the last three words. Who else knows about her father’s murder, who outside of that courtroom; who has she or Phoenix told? “He’s really bad at keeping people up-to-date, huh?”

Larry looks at Apollo and says, “It took him four months to tell me he had a daughter, y’know? And we live in the same city!” Trucy giggles.

Apollo wonders if Larry was ever told that Trucy was adopted. Somehow, he wouldn’t put it past Phoenix.

“Trucy, what exactly is your school schedule?” Apollo asks. He gets the same answer every time, but he still feels obligated to ask, if her father won’t seem to.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says.

“Oof, don’t let Edgy hear that.” Larry rescues Trucy from beneath the noodles and puts them on the coffee table. “Y’know you’re in for another five-hour lecture about ‘the importance of education’” – he throws his voice to some weird accent that sounds nothing like anything and makes Trucy laugh harder – “and how ‘you don’t want to end up like some certain particular orange man who’—”

“You’re not a good example for the perils of flunking high school,” Trucy says brightly. Apollo has a sudden parental urge to ask her what her report card looks like. “You’ve turned out fine, Uncle Larry!”

“It’s all sheer dumb luck and he knows it.” And there’s Phoenix, strolling in with his hands in his hoodie pockets like he knew exactly the timing of when to best appear to make the best joke. “Hey, how’s it going, you sorry bastard?”

Larry gasps in a comically dramatic way, clapping his hands over Trucy’s ears. “I’m fifteen, Uncle Larry,” Trucy says tiredly. “I know what swear words are.”

“Oh.” Larry removes his hands. “Right.” He stares at Phoenix with a glare that keeps turning halfway into a grin before he can fix it. “Well, dumbass, you wouldn’t have to ask how I’m doing if you’d pick up the phone once in a while! Edgy’s better about chatting with me! Edgy is!”

“Sure he is,” Phoenix says with a lazy wave of his hand. “He’s not the one who the fae have banned from getting a new phone that texts faster than a brick.”

“So you two are old friends?” Apollo asks.

Larry gives him a thumbs-up. “Right in one,” Phoenix says.

“Yeah,” Apollo says, “that’s kinda how I greet my best friend, so.”

The three of them chatter over each other, chaotic snippets of conversation burying themselves beneath each other and beneath the weight of obvious years that Apollo is not privy to. Trucy is scolding Larry for forgetting how old she is, and Larry is saying that he just doesn’t have the brains to keep track of the ages of all his friends’ daughters’ cousins’ in-laws, and Phoenix is telling him that he unlike some people doesn’t even have that expected of him and still can’t manage friends’ daughters, and then Trucy has her laptop from somewhere and is pulling up her Youtube channel, and her hat is hovering in midair obviously balanced on her wisp, and Larry elbows Phoenix into a bookshelf.

It’s weird – it’s far more than weird – to see Phoenix on that level of familiarity with someone. With Iris, the history between them, obviously deep, was obviously a gulf that they weren’t trying to, or couldn’t, bridge. But today, Apollo thinks he almost sees a hint of the man Phoenix was before, and not just before the disbarment.

He can’t exactly get away from them; the filing cabinet is in the back room where they settle, Larry lounging in Phoenix’s desk chair with his feet up on the desk, Phoenix sitting on the desk, and Trucy bouncing about all over. He listens to some gossip about mutual friends of theirs – which includes Prosecutor Edgeworth, somehow – and Larry’s career, learning that he’s a picture book writer and artist. A quick search of his name, on Apollo’s fourth stab at how to spell that surname, turns up that he is probably about as successful and well-off as a picture book writer can get. On his wikipedia page – personal life section incredibly short – there’s a note about a woman named Elise with the same surname, another author-illustrator, many less books under her belt, all more than seven years ago, and even less about who she was behind the books.

If Larry wasn’t a friend of Phoenix’s, Apollo wouldn’t think that anything about that was really a mystery. Some people prefer their private lives.

As it is, Apollo tries to dredge up anything from his memory of that month-old aside. It was the same day as his conversation with Klavier, which pushed just about everything else out of his head and didn’t let it back in. “Are you the friend whose mentor was one of the fae?” Apollo asks at the closest thing to a lull in the conversation; Trucy is laughing while Phoenix and Larry glare at each other in mock anger about a joke Apollo didn’t catch, off a discussion about shapeshifters. (Apollo desperately doesn’t and wants to know more about what they know about shapeshifters. It’s the way he feels about most new magic concept. He hasn’t braved asking Trucy more about kitsunes.)

“That’s me,” Larry says. “Unless you’ve made other unfortunate artist friends while I’m not looking, and that’s unlikely, since the only friend you’ve made in the last seven years was a mortal enemy.”

“Look at you,” Phoenix says dryly. “You’ve learned how to use logic, even though I have made friends, thanks.”

“You haven’t told me about any new friends, either,” Trucy says, pouting.

Larry pantomimes stabbing Phoenix in the leg with a pencil. “Anyway yeah,” he says, still gesturing with the pencil but now like he’s a professor lecturing with an imaginary blackboard, pointing to concepts visible only in his mind. “That’s me. Her name was Elise, or at least that’s the name she went by at the end.” He is quiet for a few seconds. “I found her art at a low point in my life, which I guess that low point was ‘most of my twenties’, there Nick I said it before you could, and was so inspired that I reached out to her and I worked with her up until she died.”

“You forgot that the ‘worked with her’ part involved swearing your apparent ‘undying fealty’ to her teachings and ‘everything she could provide you’,” Phoenix says, making a few quotes with his fingers, again with that deep dryness to his voice, not quite sarcastic but plainly amused. “Which – Apollo, tell me the problem of using that phrasing to one of the fae?”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Phoenix says.

“Shush, Nick,” Larry says.

“I haven’t heard this one,” Trucy says. She perches herself on Apollo’s desk and puts her chin in her hands.

Larry groans. Phoenix’s expression is positively gleeful. “So he’s talking to her about learning painting and publishing from her, in his overdramatic exaggerated way that he says everything,” he says, more animated in his manner of speech than he has ever been before, “and she’s hearing from that ‘oh, he wants to gain magic from me’ and that’s one way how you can accidentally become a witch.”

Does Phoenix know anyone whose life isn’t a fae nightmare? “They don’t make you draw up a meticulous contract beforehand?” Apollo asks.

“They hold the cards in that setup – if you, human, the one at risk, don’t ask, I can’t imagine many would suggest it.” Phoenix snatches the pencil out of Larry’s hand. “Again, sheer dumb luck for it to turn out all right. Be careful swearing oaths to people – you might end up bound and magic for it.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” Apollo says, and Phoenix nods like he has imparted some sort of sage wisdom instead of saying something that should, by every right, be obvious.

-

He isn’t around for wherever and whenever Phoenix introduces Vera to Larry. Their conversation about her assuages some of Apollo’s fears about Larry’s exuberance; Phoenix becomes a human thesaurus but only for the words “sheltered”, “quiet”, and “shy”. “Sorta like Pearls was when we first met her,” Phoenix says, another glimpse of their depth of history, and Apollo wonders about who this girl is before Phoenix adds, “Except Vera grew up here, and Pearls on the other side of the veil.”

Ah. One of the fae. Go figure. How many of them does Phoenix know, anyway, and how is he not dead from it all yet?

Over the next week, Vera’s art supplies begin a slow migration out of the office. She leaves some pencils and sketchbooks around, shows up whenever Larry is meeting with his agent – apparently he hasn’t been home in a while, has a lot to catch up on, drags Phoenix along to anything dealing with a contract while they argue about something pro-bono a decade ago that Phoenix is trying to collect on. Apollo and Trucy leave the office that Friday evening, leaving Vera the only one there, her head in her sketchbook, not even looking up to tell them that she has found the zone and she doesn’t need them to wait around to walk her home.

“I’m so proud of her,” Trucy says, skipping down the sidewalk beneath the spotted streetlights. “She’s come so far since we met her!”

“She’s older than you,” Apollo reminds her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be proud of her,” Trucy says. “I’m proud of you when you win a case. I’m proud of Daddy that he’s getting his life back together. And I’m proud of Vera for how she’s doing with everything she found out about herself and her family.”

“And how are you doing with everything about you and yours?” He hasn’t asked her, because she has never drawn close to it, seems to have chosen pretending nothing is wrong as her coping mechanism, which Apollo understands. He’s tried forceful repression and almost succeeded at it. He can’t blame her for not wanting to face all that is behind her. But it seems like a better time than any, the distance of nearly a month and a half, and in the dark Trucy doesn’t have to look at him, doesn’t have to work to hide her facial expressions from him.

After a short delay, her face turned from him under the lights, Trucy says quietly, “Mia had some old grimoires. Daddy’s up late reading all of them, looking for stuff about mitamahs. He wants to help, he always wants to help, but he’s so busy, he’s got court stuff and Court stuff and he was talking about taking the Bar again and now this and I wish sometimes for his sake that we hadn’t ever gone and found any of it at all.” Even in the dark, he sees her shadowy figure slump. “And I wanted to be magic like my grandfather and now I don’t know what to be, but I do know I’m a Wright, and Wrights don’t run from the truth even when it hurts or just kinda sucks.”

In spite of himself, Apollo laughs, and Trucy does too. “Your dad has a real way with words,” he tells her, and she laughs again. “But I mean – if you want to learn about magic, you can learn about magic. It doesn’t have to be like anyone else. You can be magic like you.”

(Like Apollo is a defense attorney not like Dhurke, but like Apollo, and he wants to tell her he understands but like every time before, he doesn’t allow himself to form the words.)

“I guess,” she says. “I guess I can.”

-

His Saturday plans to sleep in and stay in bed for longer end with his phone’s incessant buzzing. 8:36 in the morning, and he is being called by the number that is saved in his phone as the Wright Anything Agency, the ancient desk phone that Apollo doesn’t know exactly how to make an outgoing call from. He’s not sure he’s ever taken a call on it, either; clients just seem to walk in or be handed to him, and he goes from there.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Trucy,” Apollo says, “this isn’t really funny.”

He hangs up and plants his face back into his pillow.

Buzz buzz buzz.

Wright Anything Agency.

“Trucy—”

At the loud burst of static, Apollo tries to jerk away from the phone in his hand, rolling halfway out of bed in the process. “What the hell,” he says, at some distance to the phone with no idea of whether he can be heard. “Can we not do something weird for one weekend?”

Again, he hangs up, but this time he does not move. His phone barely has time to return to its lock screen before there is a third incoming call from the same source.

He puts it to his ear and waits. The static is back, soft enough to listen to. Its hiss isn’t constant but has peaks and valleys like a hum, like a whisper, like if he just listens hard enough he would swear that it has the same pulse and rhythm as speech. Blinking at the wall behind his bed, he cautiously asks, “Mia?”

The crackle in response is loud, but not painfully. If he had to classify it as anything, it seems like an affirmation, not the scolding of the static of the second call. “Okay,” he says. “You win.”

He hangs up, waiting for a fourth call to chase him down, and it doesn’t.

“Dude.” Clay slumps into the kitchen, yawning, to take in Apollo dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and shoving a granola bar into his mouth. “Where are you going?”

“I’m getting crank-called by my office’s ghost and I’m presuming it’s for something important,” Apollo replies, through a mouthful of granola, and the words come out such a mess that he has to repeat them after he swallows. At Clay’s dead-eyed expression, he adds, “She’s a benevolent ghost, mostly, I think. Mr Wright said.”

“Yeah, call me if you want me to start looking into exorcisms,” Clay says. “Otherwise” – he throws a thumb over his shoulder – “I’m goin’ back to bed.”

In the gray morning, the streets are sparsely-populated and about as quiet as it gets, restless night over and day not quite begun. The office, when Apollo reaches it, pops the door open before he can even try the handle to see if, like every morning, it is unlocked for him. “Hello?” he calls. The room is empty. No one responds. “Who am I even looking for?” he mutters, and in response, the last of Vera’s paint cans rattle. “Vera?” The lights blink and a book falls, almost in slow-motion, from the shelf next to the far door. “Okay.”

How did he not notice Mia’s presence before Phoenix pointed it out? Had she left him alone to flounder before then? Had everything weird just faded into the background weirdness of his life? He opens the door. The lamp on his desk flickers on, a spotlight twisted to point at the bathroom door. In the quiet, the sound of soft sobbing reaches through the door. “Vera?” Apollo repeats.

Abruptly, the sobbing stops. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice raised as much as it possibly can be, soft as it is through the door. “You can go home.”

“You’re crying,” Apollo says. “I’m not going anywhere.” He slumps against the wall and slowly folds down to the floor. “I didn’t have any plans for today, anyway.”

“Please go home.” Vera’s voice emerges closer, from the crack along the wall. She might have moved, too. “You don’t need to see me.”

See her? There’s something he can work with. “What happened, Vera?”

A second passes, an audible sniff, and then several more seconds. “I don’t know how to go back,” she says, fainter again. The lock clicks open. Apollo scrambles to his feet as the door opens. His breath catches.

Something broke, and it isn’t just the cracks in the center of the mirror.

Vera doesn’t look like she was the one who opened the door. She sits on the floor, hugging her knees, and her fingers digging into her jeans are too long, ending in what looks like sharp bony claws. The skin on her hands and face is variegated, patchy, blue a few shades light than her hair and pale lilac mixed across each other like they were sprayed and splattered down onto a canvas. Her ears end in points and curve near their tips but are surprisingly short, ending at least an inch before the top of her head and instead hooking outward. It reminds Apollo a little of a bat. Her red eyes are a little too big for her face, blinking furiously, and she quickly reaches up to rub away the tear tracks down her cheeks. Apollo almost jumps forward, terrified by those claws going so close to her eyes, but he holds himself back and then realizes, with the iron ring on his hand, he would just make things worse. He shoves it down into the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh,” Apollo says.

Why did Mia call him and not Trucy? He’s no good at this.

“Mr Laurice told me all about his mentor.” Vera’s voice, now that she isn’t raising it through the door, drops to a raspy whisper. “And how he didn’t know what she looked like. He showed me a picture of her how she looked as human, but... “ She sniffs again. “I wondered what I look like. So last night I tried and…” Another, louder sniff, and then a sob that she doesn’t choke down. “I can’t go back. I’ve tried and tried and I... And I can’t go out like this.” She chews on the end of one of her thumb-claws and he can see several of her teeth end in long points like her ears and fingers. “People can’t see me like…”

“You’ve been here all night?” Vera nods. “Did you – did you have dinner?” She shakes her head. Apollo fails to conjure a memory of whether she had anything substantial for lunch or was absorbed in her work that early, too. “Okay, um, here’s what we’ll do.” He extends a hand to Vera. She stares at it for several seconds – maybe she can See some lingering effect of the ring – but accepts it and he helps her up off the floor. “I’m gonna call Trucy because she knows a little more about magic, and I’ll run out and get you something to eat, and we can all figure this out together, okay?” She nods. “Okay.”

He tries his best not to sound frantic when he explains the situation to Trucy. Can a glamour just go away, forever? Vera can’t go back to living like a shut-in, not like this, not when she’s been learning not to shy so far away from the world, not when she’s been introduced to a mentor who can do more for her than just let her hang out in a cramped Anything Agency. “I will be there in five minutes,” Trucy says, hanging up immediately after, not letting Apollo ask how she intends for that impossible timetable, since she said she was at home, to work.

Five minutes later, a void-portal opens near the bookshelf – Vera screams – and Trucy stumbles out with a makeup compact mirror in her hand, and Apollo wonders how he forgot about that Gramarye trick. “Got it the first time this time!” she announces proudly, holding the mirror aloft and then letting it fall from her fingers, slumping over as though exhausted. Her hair is tangled, obviously unbrushed, and she doesn’t even have her hat, probably having thrown on the clothes closest at hand, jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt and her white boots. She flings herself over the back of the couch and stays as she lands.

“You didn’t need to exhaust yourself to get here immediately,” Apollo says. Vera puts her face in her hands; maybe it would have been better for her to take longer to arrive, give Vera more time to accept that someone else was going to see her now too.

“I did.” Trucy rights herself and leans forward. “Vera!” She grins. “You’re so pretty!”

Vera moves her hands apart to look up at Trucy with one big red eye. “Those are such good colors for you! You look just like a pretty painting!”

That’s Trucy, good at this, and Apollo, only a comfort to someone who is a thousand times more willing to talk than Vera is. “I’ll go get you something to eat,” he says.

“Not Eldoon’s,” Trucy scolds, turning a frown and furrowed brow up at Apollo.

“I know, and I wouldn’t anyway. No one should have Eldoon’s at nine in the morning!”

Trucy’s expression tells him that she has definitely had Eldoon’s this early in the morning at least once before.

He makes a run to the source of their other dietary staple, Kitaki Bakery, instead. Mr Kitaki knows by now what the Anything Agency tend to get and doesn’t bat an eye when Apollo asks for whatever they have that is minimal salt. Halfway back through People Park, his thoughts bouncing between that first case and Vera’s situation now, he realizes that he and Trucy aren’t the only ones who could help with Vera’s situation.

Hey so, weird question about glamours Is it possible to like get it stuck and not be able to use it again

That doesn’t make any sense when he retreads after pressing send, so he tries again, stops walking to concentrate on whatever the hell he’s trying to convey. Context. Context would probably help.

Vera’s at the agency and she looks not human and she wants to change back and can’t and she’s freaked out Is it possible that she’s just stuck forever or is there some way to go back And how Trucy and I know nothing

He doesn’t know what rock star prosecutors do with their Saturday mornings – it probably depends on what they do with their Friday nights, and Apollo has no clue about that either – but the message is out there, if Klavier is awake to help.

Maybe that’s why Mia called Apollo.

The TV blares the opening theme of the Steel Samurai on Apollo’s return to the agency. Vera, still blue and purple and fae, at least no longer hides her face, and Trucy flings herself into the couch next to Vera. “We’ve got a game plan,” Trucy announces. Apollo hands her the pastry boxes. “Chill out, eat food, relax, and maybe it works better when not stressed.” She pats Vera’s hand, apparently unfazed by her claws. “We’ll just have a chill day in today!”

“I’m sorry,” Vera whispers. “I know you both had better things to do.”

Trucy looks at Apollo. Apollo looks to the ceiling. “Nope,” Trucy says.

“Not really,” Apollo agrees. “You should’ve called, Vera – called last night, especially, really.”

She ducks her head. Her ears more a little, flaring out and moving down. “I didn’t want to be a bother,” she says. “Since I said I would be okay… And then you were all home again, and I would call you back…”

“You’re not a bother, Vera! You’re family!” Trucy grins at her and squeezes her hand. Then the smile falls off her face. “Wait, Polly, Vera didn’t call at all? How did you know…?”

Vera blinks at him, her big eyes making her resemble some sort of owl, if owls had demonic red eyes. “I got a series of calls from the office phone,” Apollo says. “No voice on the other end. I think it was Mia.”

“Oh,” Trucy says, sinking back into the couch. “I bet it was, too.” They watch the Evil Magistrate make a long villainous speech before he flees, and then Trucy adds, “I always wish I could’ve known her while she was alive. ‘Cause I always think I do know her, and then I think – do I, really? How do you get to know someone from her ghost? And why wasn’t I allowed to know her? Why’d some stupid bastard who thought he was hot shit take that away from us?”

The office is silent until the next episode starts and Trucy launches into a story about how Phoenix defended the original Steel Samurai actor. It seems like a diversion, a distraction, from the way the air hangs heavy after Trucy’s outburst, the way the audio from the TV sounds thinner and hollow. He doesn’t mind it. Vera listens to her unblinking, hypnotized, though it is impossible to tell where exactly her eyes are focused, on Trucy or on the television; there is barely a change in the hue of her eyes where the light hits them, no apparent pupils in her ping-pong ball eyes.

They make it through that episode and half of the next, Apollo still puzzling over the apparent circles of people that Phoenix knows, and all jolt at the sound of knocking on the door. Phoenix doesn’t knock, and it’s still barely 9:30 on a Saturday morning. Is the agency properly open on weekends? What are its hours? Apollo has never had a clear idea. The three of them sit frozen for several more seconds, time enough for the knocking to start again. Trucy vaults the back of the couch. “Coming!” she calls, smoothing down some flyaway hairs and yanking the door open. “Oh! Prosecutor Gavin! Hi!”

If Apollo is surprised – and he is, frozen in place and staring in confusion at the back of Trucy’s head as she continues to frantically comb flat her hair – then Trucy, who has no idea that Apollo contacted him, must be shocked as all hell. He checks his phone to see if he hadn’t missed a text in response, some advance warning, finding nothing. He just showed up.

Something thumps to the floor. Apollo finally turns his head. Vera flees over the back of the other couch, landing heavily and slamming the door to the other room hard enough to shake the coffee table. “Vera! Wait—!”

“I see I’m already not helping the situation,” Klavier says dryly. Apollo expects to see the tired-eyed man he last saw over a month ago – has it been that long? – and the plastic smile that paired with that bitter tone. But Apollo doesn’t have the magatama on him, and Klavier is Klavier, insufferably glamorous (in every sense of the word), and he’s grinning at them both with his spotlight smile, like even just in a t-shirt and jeans with his hair pulled back low, he should only be at home on the stage.

Apollo hates him again, though he can appreciate that he isn’t wearing that stupid necklace.

“You could have just… texted back.” Apollo scrambles to his feet as Klavier enters the office, as out-of-place as he was the first time he dropped by. “Or – or just called if it was too much to write—”

“Oh,” Trucy says. “You texted him? That explains – anyway, ignore him, Prosecutor Gavin.” She pats Klavier’s arm. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I could hardly ignore a distressed damsel, ja?” Klavier asks. “And besides, I haven’t seen my favorite Fraülein Magician in a hot second.”

“Vera tried to hide from me too when I showed up,” Trucy says, trailing behind Klavier as they pick their way through the usual office mess. “It’s not just you. And she—”

Klavier yelps and jerks his hand away from the doorknob. Still at some distance to it, Apollo can feel the cold radiating from the metal, an unequivocal warning. If it’s Mia not letting them in, she must have reason; there must be something—

“Your rings,” Apollo says.

“Huh?” Trucy asks.

“Prosecutor Gavin – those are iron, right? And Vera—”

Klavier’s eyes widen. “Ah,” he says, immediately plucking them off of his fingers. “Of course.”

“What happens?” Trucy asks. Klavier, reaching for the door again, a little more hesitant than before, freezes. “Like is it like magnets that it just repels, or…?”

“Like most magic, it depends.” Klavier’s eyes have a vacant, absent look, one that glamour can’t hide. “The scar on Kris’ hand, though – that was iron. I don’t suppose he ever forgave me for it.”

He obviously braces himself before touching the doorknob again, shoulders slumping with relief when nothing happens. “Vera!” Trucy calls, ducking in under Klavier’s arm. “It’s okay! None of us are mad at you, Vera!”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in court,” Klavier says. “That was unbecoming of me, and you undeserving.”

The bathroom door is open, the kitchen door is nonexistent, and Vera’s voice rises up from somewhere in the room. “I did deserve it,” she says. Trucy makes a beeline for Phoenix’s desk. “You can be mad at me. It’s okay. I screwed everything up, and I’m just like your brother--”

“Nein, Fraülein, let me stop you there.” Klavier walks to the desk and leans against it, his back to Trucy attempting to drag Vera out from underneath. “The only thing you have in common with my brother is that you are both changelings, and I can hardly hold a grudge for that, ja? I do not fault Herr Forehead for being human when many heinous criminals I have prosecuted are also human.”

Apollo decides not to acknowledge that.

Her work done, Trucy hops up onto the desk. Vera stands there, her head ducked, her ears flattened out to the sides and drooping further. Klavier glances back over his shoulder and grins at her; unlike Apollo or even Trucy, he doesn’t have to hesitate a moment. He would have Seen her before, wouldn’t he? “There we go,” he says. “No need for pretty little Fraüleins to hide their pretty faces like that, ja?”

Vera lowers her head further, her eyes almost frantically avoiding Klavier’s, her clawed fingers tugging her hair down around her ears. It doesn’t help. “I would still rather look like me,” she says softly. “I want to be me again.”

Klavier sighs heavily. “Well, that’s the first part of your problem, Fraülein: this is you, much as anything else is.”

A soft sob escapes Vera’s throat. Apollo glares at Klavier. “Like I am Prosecutor Gavin and Klavier the rock star; I am not me if you cut away either. Everyone has different faces for the world at different times, ja? Yours and mine, Fraülein, are just a bit more literal than most.”

Vera sinks down into the desk chair, her hands spread out in front of her, the white hooked claws splayed apart. “I’m afraid I have no answer that will be like—” Klavier snaps his fingers. “I’m not very good at teaching magic, I’ve been told.” His knuckles pale on the hand that he doesn’t have in the air, tightly gripping the edge of the desk. “But I can promise you only more hurt in trying to bury half of yourself.”

“Turn your thinking around!” Trucy says brightly. Klavier looks relieved, probably that they aren’t going to dwell on what he said, read into it everything that is definitely there beneath the surface. “You’re not trying to – to change yourself or anything, just be a different self for the situation. Like how I’m not allowed to wear my top hat to school, or Polly – well, I guess Polly’s only got one face and it’s loud.”

“Hey!”

“There you go proving her point,” Klavier says with a smirk.

“Daddy says that magic is all about being sure,” Trucy continues, content to ignore that which she has sparked. “That if you don’t think you can, you won’t. So you can! I know you can!” She beams at Vera. She’s a good cheerleader; it’s part of what makes her such a good counsel in court. (The other part is that she’s smart as hell, but sometimes Apollo needs someone to believe in him when he doesn’t believe in him.)

Vera stares at her claws, visibly uncomfortable with the attention all on her. “Why didn’t my father tell me?” she asks. “I could have figured this out a long time ago.”

Apollo, thinking about someone else who wasn’t told, who also found out in a bad situation, fails to not look at Klavier, who glances away. Trucy turns to look at him as well. “There’s hardly a guide for how to raise a changeling, ja?” Klavier drums his fingers on the desk. “Perhaps he hoped to stop you from being torn in two like this. Perhaps he worried that once you knew, you would try some sort of dangerous magic. Perhaps he was afraid to face it, too. Who knows? I have wondered often myself, much as I know it is far too late to ask.”

Apollo thinks, if not quite that question, he and Trucy just as well have questions for their parents, far too late to ask them. And Trucy’s face falls, her eyes cast down toward her boots, undoubtedly thinking the same. There’s one other question Apollo has, one he could ask, one that isn’t too late, and doesn’t: why Klavier didn’t tell anyone what Vera was. Was he afraid to face it, for fear of facing that echo of his brother?

For several minutes, the only sound in the office is the faint rumble of the TV from the next room over. Trucy is the first to move; she doesn’t speak but instead gasps and smacks Apollo’s arm. “Vera!” she says, fortunately excited, not horrified or afraid. “Your hands, look!”

And she grabs one of Vera’s hands – still mottled like paint splashes, but purple and blue the whole way up her fingers, ending with silver nails and stubby human fingertips. “Good work, Fraülein!” Klavier says, leaning halfway over the desk to look. He grins at her, another one of his flashbulb smiles, and Apollo would swear that the skin on Vera’s cheeks, even the blue part, takes on a purpler tone. Is that how she blushes with this face?

“I thought glamour was just illusions,” Trucy says, still holding Vera’s hand and studying it like it is a piece of evidence. Vera for her part at least doesn’t seem to mind. “But like…” She taps the end of one of Vera’s fingers. “There’s obviously not an invisible claw here. So it’s like a kind of shapeshifting?”

“It’s magic, Fraülein,” Klavier says. “It is a glamour. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’m an artist,” Vera says softly. “Whatever face I have… I’m an artist. And I’m not trained to hold a brush with claws, so…” She shrugs. Trucy finally drops her hand. “They went away.”

Magic is about being sure, and if she’s sure of anything, it’s that.

Klavier offers her a high-five, which she accepts. “You’ve got it, Fraülein.”

“Just not…” She frowns. “The rest.”

“Ach, don’t doubt yourself now. I’ve no doubt before long you’ll be able to show off either of your lovely faces whenever you choose. And all without my poor advice.”

Vera starts to giggle and then hastily presses her hand over her mouth. “It helped,” she says.

They can’t hear the front door open, but it is apparent when the murmur from the TV is added to. Phoenix’s voice drifts in, half a conversation, starts and stops, and like no one else is with him. They all look to the door and Phoenix enters, phone in one hand, two heavy-looking leather-bound books balanced in his other arm. His eyes pass over the four of them, flashing blue and black, but his part of his conversation doesn’t falter. “Okay, but there’s absolutely no need to have a midlife crisis at seventeen,” he says. He drops the two tomes on Apollo’s desk.

“I did that,” Klavier says quietly. “Wouldn’t recommend it, either.”

Phoenix stands with his hand still on the books, shaking his head at whatever is being said on the other end of the line. He rolls his eyes. “Well first I’d take a breath, and then – no, they’re not going to discriminate based on your birthday, I know a kid – not really a kid anymore, she’d kick my ass if she heard that – who got her badge at thirteen so you are – take a breath, please.” He drags a hand down his face. “Yeah, words of wisdom still aren’t really my forte, so I’d hang up the phone and go study some more – yeah.” He laughs. “And I do kinda have to cut you off, sorry. Got some kids here in local time I gotta check up with.” His eyes flicker between colors at them again. “Of course there’ll still be room for you here. Just maybe not as much space as I thought a year ago. Talk to you later, kiddo. Right,” he says, shoving the phone into his pocket and spinning on his feet a little to properly face them all. “Someone wanna give me the opening statement?”

“Glamour’s stuck,” Trucy says.

“I panicked,” Vera says, sinking down a little further in the desk chair.

Phoenix nods. “It happens. Even some friends of mine, they’ve known their magic their entire lives – still, they get hurt or tired or hungry or upset, and they’ll end up stuck for a bit, too. Which – checklist.” He holds up two fingers and taps one for each question. “Have you eaten recently?” Vera nods. “Sleep okay last night?” She shakes her head. “That’s not gonna help, for sure.”

“I feel a little better now,” Vera says, staring down at her hands again. They are still clawless. “Trucy and Apollo helped. And Prosecutor Gavin too, a lot.”

“Good to hear.” Phoenix takes a few steps toward his desk and stops, raising his voice without turning his head. “Speaking of, Prosecutor Gavin could at least stand to say goodbye before he sneaks out.”

And Apollo turns his head and Klavier simply isn’t there any more. He made the joke – probably not a joke – about being seventeen and now Apollo scans the room and he is simply gone. Gone, and knowing the sensation to expect, Apollo can’t make his eyes focus on a space next to the door.

“You don’t have a magatama on you,” Klavier says. He doesn’t really reappear, like he was invisible and now isn’t. “How did you…?”

“I’m a father,” Phoenix says, “of a daughter with a will o’ the wisp that, when she was littler, she liked to use to distract me while she stole cookies out of the pantry.” Trucy’s face turns pink; Phoenix grins unrepentantly. “I know when you kids are trying to make me look somewhere else.”

“Ah,” Klavier says.

Phoenix waves over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says. “Door’s usually unlocked.”

Klavier nods once, wide-eyed, numbly, and he slips through the door.

“Still didn’t say goodbye,” Phoenix mutters.

“I don’t think he likes you very much,” Vera says quietly, staring intently down at her nails.

“No,” Phoenix says. “Not really. We’ll work on that, but you first, kiddo.” He claps a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “One worry at a time.”

“Daddy,” Trucy says sharply. She has gone to Apollo’s desk, paging through the thick volumes that Phoenix deposited there. “You said you were running errands when you left.”

“That was my plan,” he says, dragging his hand down his face, but nothing about his movements appears like a lie to Apollo. “Then I was handed possible new leads and got waylaid.”

Trucy’s frown deepens. “Daddy…”

It must be about the mitamah again, like Trucy said last night. “I’m not overworking myself, sweetheart, I promise,” Phoenix says.

And that isn’t a lie, either, not to Apollo’s eyes, but the dark shadows under Phoenix’s eyes still contest that truth. He can’t actually be managing just one worry at a time.

-

I’m pretty sure Mr Wright doesn’t hate you You didn’t have to run out like that 

-Ah, you had all your agency people there -I didn’t want to impose 

You’re like the least imposing visitor to ever show up here tbh Not like the fae woman who just showed up and then told me to watch my phrasing on how I ask clients if they need help 

-the what

Yeah

-You’ll have to tell me about that sometime

[digital-dragoon]

and so begins more of my descent into wolf lawyer hell..... nah but i had this idea in mind for a little while and wanted to work out some more of nick’s dynamics with larry and miles when he was younger so! here it is:

“Alright, fine,” Phoenix said, “I’ll give it a try.”

“That’s the spirit! I bet you’ll blow these humans socks away looking like a regular one of the crowd!”

I doubt I’ll even manage to kick off their shoes.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Sure, I’m sure! Don’t I look any more surer than this?” Larry posed, straight backed and cross-armed with a grin, his human visage sharply crossing over the top of his skinny wolf form. It looked... weird. Seeing his smug familiar looking friend hovering between two different identities at once.

Phoenix sighed, fluffing out his fur habitually with a quick shake of his body, before glancing from Larry to Miles, who was hanging back, regarding all of this in silence. Still his wolfy self.

For a moment, Phoenix caught his eye, then ever so subtly, Miles flicked his ear.

“Alright, fine,” Phoenix said, “I’ll give it a try.”

“That’s the spirit! I bet you’ll blow these humans socks away looking like a regular one of the crowd!”

I doubt I’ll even manage to kick off their shoes. But Phoenix closed his eyes and... tried to envision having hands and feet, instead of a set of four paws.

Then, when he next opened his eyes.... there they were! Actual human looking hands! In surprised awe, he began to examine them, then automatically ran a hand through his hair. “Ha! It actually worked!”

“Knew it would! Didn’t think it wouldn’t!” Larry cheered, slapping a hand on his shoulder whilst simultaneously bumping his rough-furred side against Phoenix’s own. 

“Not too bad,” Miles added, stepping forward now in his own guise. “It took Butz a few tries before he could master it himself.”

“Hey, says you, Edgey!” Larry grumped, throwing him a look. “I wasn’t the only one that had troubles with it earlier, ya know!”

“Uh, what’s with the... Butz and Edgy things?” 

Larry raised an eyebrow at Phoenix, then snorted. “It’s this whole thing Miles told me about. You see... these humans all have those last name things, yeah? So, if we want to wander around amongst them - all incognito-like - we have to use last names too! Mine’s Butz,  his is Edgeworth, not Edgy. I just think it’s funny.”

Miles rolled his eyes. 

Phoenix just stared at him for a few moments. Aand Butz doesn’t? 

“Alright... So, I guess that means I’d need one too?” Already he was regretting taking Larry up on this whole thing. It was getting far too complicated.

“Oh, yeah! Without a doubt! How about Spikealots? Orr Hedgeman?”

“I’d prefer to not have a name that makes me sound like some kind of porcupine, thanks.”

“Wright,” Miles said.

“Right?” Phoenix blinked. “Whose right about what?”

“You, with a ‘w’.”

For a few seconds, both Larry and Phoenix looked as nonplussed as each other. Then, “Ooh, I get it!” Larry chuckled. “You mean like... his last name, yeah? Because he thinks he’s right about everything!”

When do I ever do that?? But... actually.... He rested one hand thoughtfully against his chin. “That... doesn’t sound that bad.”

“See? See? It’s cool, right? We get to be the Human Trio together!”

“... Do you mean the Three Musketeers?” Miles said, raising an eyebrow at Larry.

“Yeah, right. That’s what I said.”

“... No you didn’t.”