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the-bar-sinister · 30 days

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In Justice We Trust (144638 words) by thesavagesabretooth

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With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed. All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

December 25, 5:20 pm

So it's real. It's all real. I really am Bobby Fulbright.

It certainly puts a fresh perspective on things.

Halbicht was lost in their own thoughts as they followed Simon, Agent Ash, and Apollo justice out of the room to give Metis Cykes and her daughter a few minutes of privacy.

Agent Ash was fixing her makeup thoughtfully as she walked out of the room.

“...I’d heard about it, I’d always had a little faith in the supernatural, but seeing it firsthand like that…” She whistled. “...We’ll have to have the girl try to channel Kelso, see what happens to our suspect….or at least see if she can recognize a spirit inside someone.”

Simon was still drying his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Robert grabbed his arm to stop him, and pressed the handkerchief from his pocket into Simon's hand.

"Here, Prosecutor Blackquill."

"Thank you, detective," he murmured. He dabbed his eyes with the cloth. "That was… a powerful experience. Ash-dono, I am sure that our young medium will be able to help in some way at least."

"Yeah…." Apollo murmured. He stumbled, and caught himself on the wall. Halblicht watched him closely. He seemed disoriented. "I'm gonna go uh, I gotta– I'll be in the restroom."

As he limped off without waiting for an answer, they followed him with their gaze.

It was a shocking experience for anybody, I guess, Bobby mused.

Perhaps. At least the matter between us is settled. Of your reality at least.“I hope so.” Sheila watched Apollo slip away with a quiet expression of concern, and a murmured “poor kid” before she went back to applying her makeup. A nervous habit, maybe, given the way her smile seemed forced.

“I’m sure she can. The Small Medium at Large has quite the kick.” she looked up at Simon. “...you gonna be okay? Seeing someone you care about back from the dead…it’s..” she went back to applying her lipstick before she murmured “gotta be one hell of a trip.”

"A hell of a trip indeed, Ash-dono!" Simon barked a laugh, and Halblicht found the prosecutor suddenly half draped on their arm. Surprised, they put it around his shoulders to steady him.

"Easy there, sir," Bobby murmured. He was almost overwhelmed himself, tears threatening to spill from his eyes just in sympathy and stress at the whole event, but Robert helped hold on to him.

A regular conga line of emotional support, Robert thought dryly.

“I wouldn’t know. People I watch die? Stay dead.” Ash drawled with a dry laugh and a smirk “...except Kelso, perhaps.”

She snapped her compact shut and shoved it in her pocket. “You look like you’re about to fall over. I could get you a chair…though Detective Prime Time’s doing an admirable job.”

"I'm happy to help in any way that I can, Agent Ash," Bobby promised with a sad smile. "If you'd like to faint, I can happily catch you."

“Very tempting, Prime Time.” She laughed, pushing her hand through her hair with the old wolfish grin “Watch out, I might take you up on it.”

"Thankfully, I have two arms, ma'am!" he saluted with his free one, to demonstrate. Bobby was riding high on the emotional power of his own confirmed reality, and Robert was swimming in the backwash. Too much so to even protest his silly behavior.

Simon came through for him however. "You're ridiculous as always, Fool Bright." He sniffed into the handkerchief. "This is hardly the time for your witless shenanigans."

“Ah, and there goes my classic tv- faint.” Sheila sighed performatively, and instead dropped herself against the wall “I’d say we all earned the right to laugh while we can.”

"Well, our ghost of honor was certainly laughing I suppose," Simon admitted.

"You made it sound like she was always like that," Bobby commented, curious.

"Oh yes. She always had a very dark sense of humor. Perhaps some of it rubbed off on me."

“A woman after my own heart.” Ash put her hand to her chest “she was a big influence on you, Samurai?”

"The biggest of my life," he said. "Especially if you include the film library that she shared with me."

"Ah! So that's where your love of the samurai comes from, Prosecutor Blackquill?" Bobby beamed at him.

"It reinforced the latent urge, I'm sure," he drawled.

“Ahhhh….” Sheila snickered “it awakened the soul of the samurai in yo—-- no I can’t finish that sentence!”

She broke out laughing in another fit as the door to the private room Athena and Metis had entered opened, and a tear-stained but smiling Athena came slowly walking out with the ‘Small Medium at Large’ trailing behind her.

Bobby snapped to a salute. "Ms. Athena! And Ms. Fey– thank you very much for helping us."

"No problem!" Pearl snapped a salute back to him with a little smile, but Bobby could tell that she looked tired.

Do you think channeling a spirit is draining for her, Bobby? I've never noticed a problem like that between you and I– except accounting for the normal level of exhausted you make me.

Aw, Robert! But um, no, it seems like you're right.

"Are the pair of you alright?" Bobby asked.

Athena wiped at her eyes.

“Y-yeah. I just had to get some stuff off my chest. It was nice to speak with her again. She looked over her shoulder. “...thanks Pearl. It meant the world to me.”

"Of course, Miss Athena! Any time!" Pearl chirped out, despite her obvious fatigue.

"We'll have to plan that party for when Aura is out of jail," Simon drawled. He leaned against Bobby's arm, seemingly unconcerned with disentangling himself for now. Bobby certainly wasn't going to push him away.

"So…" the young medium asked. "What's next? Confirming possessions, right?"

“I’d say…” Athena looked at the two of them with a half smile and a wave. She’d gone a little flushed, but seemed, admittedly, happy in their direction.

“That’s right, Small Medium at Large.” Agent Ash purred. “...but you look tired, hon. You think you can push through?”

"I'm okay!" She nodded. "Seeing ghosts doesn't take energy the way that channeling them does. I can just… you know… see them. So as long as you trust my judgment, we're all set!"

Bobby and Robert were not unaware that Pearl had glanced rather significantly in their direction as she spoke.

“After that display? I’ll trust you to the ends of the earth, kid.” Sheila laughed, glancing sidelong at Robert and Bobby. “Do you boys need confirmation? Or should I take Pearl here to lockup?”

“Oh ah…and to Mr. Apollo.” Athena whispered to her– though in the empty hall it was easy to hear.

"Why don't we hear from Ms. Fey– just for the official paperwork, so to speak," Robert said. He glanced between the medium and Simon.

Wait– did she just say Apollo? Bobby blinked internally in surprise– though it may have shown on their face.

So she did.

That's not a joke? But why would he…

"Why not indeed," Simon nodded.

Pearl chewed on her thumb, and nodded. "Uhuh. I can say for sure. I noticed it right away when I came in to breakfast at the hotel this morning. I was gonna ask Miss. Athen about it."

Athena slapped her hands on her cheeks in surprise. “OH! woah, I guess we had the same idea! We were gonna come find you about it…that…”

Simon said nothing, but favored Halblicht with a rather smug smirk

"Thank you for the confirmation, Ms. Fey," Bobby sniffled. "It means a lot."

Athena glanced at them with a muted but genuine smile “...yeah , that makes a lotta sense. And…And for Apollo?”

Pearl chewed on her fingertips.

"Um…Should I wait until–" She paused as Halblicht heard the sound of footsteps coming around the corner.

It was Apollo Justice returning.

His hair's wet, Robert observed.

Maybe staring at his face in the mirror and splashing it, Bobby suggested. I know the feeling.Athena nervously tugged her ponytail with a bright smile his way. “Hey ah…Apollo? Did…did you want to hear what Pearl had to say?”

Apollo shrugged stiffly. His whole body posture was tense. "I already heard the answer from Trucy last night. I don't have any reason to doubt it now."

While Apollo didn't specifically say yes or no, the answer was obvious. If there wasn't a ghost, there was nothing to tell him. But he'd been told. Therefore.

But what ghost?

Robert– it has to be Clay Terran.

Ah.

Halblicht and Apollo's eyes met.

Simon, meanwhile, shifted his posture. "You as well, Mr. Justice?"

Apollo shrugged.

Athena clapped her hands together with a bright smile and an attempt at levity. “Today’s a rare kind of day huh? Possessions popping out of the wordwork, it’s like spirit week! Hah…haha..”

"Yeah, um, it's actually kind of been freaking me out," Pearl murmured, still chewing on her thumb. "It was super weird to see it with Apollo, but then with Mr. Halblicht too? Like, no offense Miss Agent Ash but if I see a third possessed person today, I might do a little scream."

“Whoopsie.” Sheila laughed as she leaned over and rustled Pearl’s hair. “Scream as much as you need to, Small Medium at Large– because I might have a dead agent I need you to ID just over there.” She gestured towards the hall that lead to the holding cells.

Pearl nodded, and rolled up her sleeves. "Lead me to 'em!"

"That does bring up a rather odd question, though," Simon said. "Why so many ghosts? Why these ghosts?"

"Maybe we should confirm Kelso one way or the other before we ask that question," Robert said.

She's got to be possessed though, right? How else would she know all about Kelso?

I have no idea, but I don't like jumping to conclusions.

December 25, 5:45 pm

Only Agent Ash and Pearl went into the cell with the captured asset, and that left Simon standing outside with Athena, Halblicht, and Apollo.

Surrounded by ghosts on all sides. Not what I expected when I started the morning.

He felt a little bad for Athena– he knew his emotions were everywhere, and he was sure that she could sense it. From the joy of the reunion and revelation with Bobby– and Robert– to the accompanying joy and sorrow of the brief reunion with his mentor. To confusion at this newest strange revelation with Apollo.

The girl didn’t look unhappy…she had a small and muted little smile on her face like she’d worn once upon a time…but she did look tired. The emotional bombardment of the day had clearly taken its toll.

She wasn’t projecting as much outward ‘energy’ as she leaned on the wall and watched the door with concern and curiosity.

He couldn't blame her. He didn't know if this day, or the 20th, or that day so many years ago was the most overwhelming day of their lives– but it was a close race no matter which.

They all stood quietly. No one seemed ready to start a conversation, not even Bobby. Perhaps Bobby least of all, for once

There'd be time to talk later. At least Apollo– or Clay, it seemed– hadn't assaulted him again.

Eventually, the cell door opened, and Agent Ash and Pearl Fey emerged.

Pearl held her hands up, and in a very small, deliberately indoor voice, spoke out a scream. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!"

“....Oh.” Athena put her hand to her cheek “I guess that answers that question.”

Sheila walked out with a furrowed brow and a forced smile as she let the door slam behind her. She raised her hands up, and echoed the medium’s sentiment with an “Arrrgh’ of her own.

“This is going to be the worst, strangest paperwork of my life…. And I had to write entire fake family trees.”

Simon touched his chin thoughtfully. "Just how does one do the paperwork on this? And I reiterate, why in heaven's name is this happening? Not that I'm complaining."

"I wish I knew," Pearl squeaked.

Athena bit her lip.

“...I can’t speak for Apollo’s situation, but I have a working theory on Halblicht and …ah..” She gestured to the door, “... Kelso24.”

Sheila rubbed her temples. “...whatever’s going on, it’s utter madness. Three ghosts all wrapped up in the same damned interpol investigation. Maybe more! Who knows who else is packing! At least it means Agent Kelso isn’t…gone? But still!”

Pearl nodded. "I'm sorry I don't have much more information. I really only know a lot about ghosts from the perspective of the Kurain tradition. So mostly when it comes to possessed people I only know how to, you know… get rid of them."

"Kindly don't do any of that at this point, Fey-dono," Simon said quickly. He pushed down the sting of panic that accompanied the thought of someone banishing Bobby, now, after everything.

December 25, 5:55 pm

Athena watched Bobby move a reassuring hand to Simon's shoulder as he replied to Pearl.

"Yeah," Apollo murmured in agreement. "Not right now."

“Yeah…” Sheila held her hands up. “I’d rather we don’t. Frankly, I think this whole thing necessitates a change of plans regarding Miss 24.”

Athena bit her lip, her hand going to her chest. She didn’t chime in out loud, but…she couldn’t help but agree with Simon. The thought of banishing the spirits only sent pings of worry and sadness through her muffled emotions.

If nothing else, she was pretty sure the former assets might need them to adapt and heal from their upbringing…and Apollo’s ‘friend’, who she was certain was far closer than that, shouldn’t be parted from him again so soon.

Pearl nodded, dipping into a little bow. "Of course! Um, I get the sense that this isn't your typical case, you know? I just wish I had more insight… if only Mystic Maya were here…."

“Not at all..” Athena gave her a smile. “don’t worry…I think this gave everyone the proof they needed to figure it out, Pearl! You did great!”

“Mystic Maya?” Sheila raised her eyebrow “someone who has more experience with possessions?”

Pearl smiled back at Athena, and answered. "Mystic Maya is my cousin, the future leader of Kurain village and master of the Kurain channeling technique. If anybody would know, she would– but she's in Kura'in finishing her training, so we can't talk to her…."

"That's a shame," Simon murmured. "There isn't anyone else who would know?"

The little medium chewed on her thumb. "Well…"

“Sounds like a real powerhouse…but getting a hold of anyone in Kura’in is a pain. Especially if they’re related to the monastic orders'.' Sheila hummed “there’s someone else?”

Athena gasped, covering her mouth “Woah…and I thought she was just the Boss’ legendary legal aide…the master of a tradition’s a pretty hu–” She cut herself off and looked at Pearl in curiosity.

Pearl poked her fingers together. "I could call your boss' boss, actually, Miss Athena," she murmured. "Miss Mia Fey– Mystic Maya's older sister. I don't know if she would know, because she left the tradition, but it could be worth a try."

"By call– you mean summon, don't you?" Robert asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pearl nodded. "Uhuh."

“Are you feeling well enough to?” Athena asked with genuine concern. “...you seemed pretty worn out after channeling my mom..”

She rubbed the back of her neck, and smiled. "I'm pretty tired, but… if I fall asleep, you'll carry me back to the hotel, right?"

With a salute, Athena flashed a bright smile.

“Promise, Pearly! I’ll carry you right back to your room!” Sheila chuckled “alright. Well, with that settled, let’s meet this Miss Mia Fey, shall we?”

December 25, 5:55 pm

They gathered again in the unfurnished viewing room in a loose circle around Pearl Fey, Simon having suggested that it was perhaps a little too inappropriate to have a seance right out in the middle of the hallway.

Pearl had put her hands together, and once again that strange aura filled the room, challenging Athena's senses.

And then Pearl was gone, and in her place was a tall, handsome woman with a strong face and large, dark eyes. She looked over them each, a catlike smile written on her face, and a sense of deep amusement radiating out from her.

"Well now! This certainly isn't the usual crowd that I play to," she declared. Her gaze lingered on Agent Ash for a long moment.

“Well, well. Today seems to be the day for pretty stiffs. Hello, Miss Fey.” Agent Ash commented with her wolfish grin as she crossed her arms under her chest, and stifled a laugh. “Hope you don’t mind the new audience.”

Athena’s eyes were wide– this was Mia Fey– the woman Phoenix rarely spoke about at the office, but always with hushed reverence. The one who’d told him the very advice that saved her again and again about a lawyer’s smile. Mia Fey, in the borrowed flesh.

“Uhm h-hello, ma’am!” Athena dipped into an awkward bow.

Simon bowed as well, and Bobby saluted.

"The late Ms. Mia Fey, we presume?" Bobby said with a grin,

"In the flesh!" the woman laughed. "Not mine though. Actually– whose flesh am I in? And where's Phoenix Wright? He's in trouble again, isn't he?"

“Oh no, Mr. Birdman is just fine.” Sheila started to cackle again, slapping the wall. “Is he really that accident prone? No wonder the King of Fop’s such an anxious wreck. snrk!!! ” she stifled the laughter and leaned forward. “Miss Fey, you’ve been called for an assessment with your expertise. We have an increasingly unusual situation. So we’ve asked the Small Medium at Large to help.”

Athena rubbed her neck as she attempted to translate for Sheila’s apparent love of snarky nicknames.

“Phoenix is alright, ma’am. We had Pearl summon you ‘cause she didn’t have any experience with the situation at hand…a rash of possessions in a short amount of time…and Mystic Maya is off training in Kura’in. We were hoping that you could explain some of this. Two…four? Of the parties are in this room. The other’s in lockup.”

Mia looked around at the people in the circle, her gaze lingering now on Apollo and on Halblicht. "So I see. Alright, why don't we sit down and you can bring me up to speed."

December 25, 6:10 pm

At the head of the table, Mia Fey had her hands clasped together and her chin rested on them, as everyone had explained the situation. She had been sitting with her eyes closed, taking it all in.

Finally, she opened them and looked around the table. "I see. So there's an international espionage ring that trains its spies through rigorous dehumanization starting in early childhood. We have two of them here– one in this room, and one in lock up– both who have been possessed by the ghosts of the people that they most recently killed. Is that correct so far?"

“That’s right, ma’am.” Athena nodded seriously as she leaned on the table. “Both were possessed, confirmed by Pearl, though I’m not sure the one in lock up realizes it yet. They’re both a little confused from the sound of the interview.”

Sheila tipped her chair back. “...got to love espionage rings.” she said dryly. “fucking people up so hard the dead get involved.”

"I think you'll find that I do not in fact have to love that," Mia murmured.

“Trust me, neither do I."

Mia pointed at Apollo. "And you two aren't part of this spy business, but had known one another for years, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Apollo murmured.

"Alright," she nodded. "I think I understand what's going on."

"Pray enlighten the rest of us poor souls," Simon drawled.

Athena leaned forward, listening carefully. She had a theory, herself– and she wondered if perhaps Mia had come to the same conclusion, from the spiritual angle rather than psychological.

The legendary lawyer smiled and shook a finger. "Before I do, do any of the talented problem solvers among you have a guess?"

"The supernatural isn't my forte, unfortunately," Simon confessed. He leaned a little closer to Bobby. "I'll be just as happy to have the mystery revealed for me this time."

Sheila shook her head, hands raised in the air. “I’m not the woman to ask about emotions, spirits, or attachment I’m afraid.”

Athena perked up with a nervous smile, her hand shooting up “I have a guess, ma’am!”

Mia pointed at her. "I like your attitude, red. Give it a shot for me."

“Red???” Athena squeaked “...better than Miss Edutainment at least.”

Sheila began laughing again, slapping the table with her palm, which only made Athena flush more. She pushed her hair out of her face and took a breath before she answered.

“I’m wondering if it’s because of their unique psychological profiles– 24 and Robert, I mean. They’ve had their personalities and emotions crushed since they were children so they could become anyone, anywhere, right? It’s horrible, and it makes me sick, but it also means that they’d be…psychologically and probably spiritually open with enough mental/spiritual real estate for a spirit or personality to take residence. R-right? I’d thought it just meant there was room to create a new personality, but…”

“...What, like they were some kind of spirit-trap?” Sheila asked with a raise of her eyebrow “...that explains why I never got myself possessed, despite factors.”

"Very insightful, Miss Cykes!" Mia clapped. "That's exactly the conclusion that I'd come to. The training they underwent essentially made the soul in their body small enough to accommodate another one no problem, without any of the usual difficulties involved."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I see… I suppose that does make sense…"

Mia nodded. "If there's a void, a soul can easily rush in to fill it. Especially if there's an intense enough burst of emotions at the time of death."

Athena's eyes widened, and her heart started to race.

“Like a murder-- Kelso’s burst of horror and despair that echoed again when 24 tried to kill herself…and…” She glanced at Bobby and Robert with a bite of her lip. “Thank you, though ma’am. It makes psychological sense, too.”

Sheila whistled “....who knows how many more of your fellows are walking around with confused ghosts in their heads.”

"An interesting possibility," Halblicht murmured, twisting his fingers together. "Both hopeful and grim, too…"

"Indeed," Simon nodded. "What an ironic fate for both parties."

“Very ironic…” Athena chewed her nails. “A killer and a victim sharing a body, and …if Halblicht is any indication, doing all the better for it. I hope…I hope when we find the rest we can help them too. Starting with Kelso and Miss 24.”

Sheila brushed her hair over her ear.

“Sharing space with your victim. Very interesting indeed.” She glanced sidelong at Mia. “You look young. Murder or illness?”

Mia's eyebrows raised. "Murder or illness what, ms. Interpol?"

“Your cause of death, Miss Fey.” Sheila leaned on the back of her hand.

Athena sat up with a start. “Agent Ash! You can’t go around asking people that kind of thing!”

The agent’s gaze turned towards her, the barest note of confusion in her voice. “I’m looking for an opinion from the other side of the veil on the current situation, Miss Edutainment…and I’d like to know if I’m walking into a landmine. So I felt it prudent to ask.”

The deceased lawyer sighed, and fluffed her hair. "I was murdered. But don't worry about it, just say what you want to say or ask what you want to ask."

“I’d thought so,” Ash leaned on her hand. “My question is this– emotionally speaking, do you think Sam Wan Kelso will suffer sharing a body with the woman who killed her? I know it’s seemed to work out for these gentlemen…”

Ash pointed to Bobby and Robert. “But as someone who died at the hands of another, I’m curious about your opinion. And…also, how does possession work? Have you possessed anyone? Can someone possess another down the line, provided they haven’t passed into rebirth?”

Mia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh dear, this is a lot of complicated questions. And I can feel little Pearl getting tuckered out." She sighed and took a breath. "The important question you asked is about Kelso and her killer. I know that I wouldn't have wanted to get stuck in a body with my own killer. But don't worry– possession is voluntary on the part of the spirit. If Kelso doesn't like it, she can leave any time. If you want to learn more about possession in general, there's an excellent library in Kurain village which I am sure you would be welcome to look over."

“...I’ll keep that in mind.” Sheila Ash held her hands up with a smile. “Sorry for overloading you with questions, Miss Fey. Thank you. Knowing Kelso can leave if she’s unhappy does wonders. Last thing I want is to allow someone to be trapped in a situation they can’t escape.”

Athena wondered exactly why Sheila had asked so many questions so quickly– part of it probably had something to do with the rapid fire and complicated emotions that ricocheted through her voice when she’d asked them.

But either way, she shifted nervously on her chair. “Thank you so much for your time, Ma’am! If you’ve gotta rest, we won’t keep you…I know Pearl was worried about falling asleep.”

"Wait just a minute," Apollo– no, it was Clay– said, sitting forward. "That's great for them, but what about us?"

Mia turned toward Athena's fellow lawyer and his spirit companion. She smiled a rather sad smile. "I didn't mean to leave you out. But you've already probably guessed that your situation is different from theirs."

They nodded. "Yeah, I got that sense. So… can you tell me any more about it?"

"Here's the thing. These guys–" she pointed her finger at Bobby and Robert. "These 'assets'-- it seems like they have what you might call 'bonsai' souls. They've been deliberately groomed and cut and shaped so they don't take up much space. That means there's plenty of room for a full sized soul to move in and share space without disrupting the bonsai. But you, Misters, have two regular full sized souls in you right now."

Athena got the sense from Mia's voice that that was going to be a problem.

“...and a container only has so much space.” Athena murmured quietly, her brow furrowed. “...which is why they’ve been so erratic? Maybe?”

Sheila listened with her fingers against her forehead. “...he’s not going to explode like this was some 80’s horror flick, is he?”

"Nothing so dramatic," Mia promised and waved her hand. "Have you ever seen what happens to two trees when you try to grow them in a tight space? Provided there's adequate sustenance for both?"

"They grow together," Simon said.

"They grow together," Mia nodded. "The two plants twist around one another and grow so closely and tightly as to become inseparable– even indistinguishable from one another, as if they had been one all along. And that, my dears, is what will happen to the two of you if you remain as you are."

Apollo and Clay had gone pale. "How long? How much time do I have?"

She shrugged. "It's impossible to say. A year, perhaps. Maybe two."

Athena bit her lip. “...a mingling of spirits into one. I …I guess that makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?”

She glanced at Apollo, her brow furrowed as she thought of him and Clay. A short fuse had been placed on them, a timer ticking down to decide if they had to have their final parting…or…

Sheila brushed her fingers through the strands of her pale hair. “...huh.”

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, hon," Mia said with a sad little smile. "But that's the way it is. There aren't too many ways out there to cheat death, you know."

The two took a breath. "I understand. Thank you for telling me. I–we'll figure it out. That's all we needed to know."

Athena gave them a sympathetic look and a halfhearted smile “I believe in you guys…”

“Not many ways to cheat death…” Sheila laughed, slapping her table. “Yeah, guess not, Miss Faerie Tale. “

"Sorry, Ms. Interpol," Mia chuckled sadly again. "If that's all you needed from me, then I'll say good luck, and get back to my busy schedule."

Halblicht shook his head. "No other questions from us, here."

“Busy Schedule? and here Cykes Sr. Made it sound like death was the waiting room from hell!” Sheila laughed. She saluted Mia with a grin that Athena thought looked rather forced. “Thanks. Good luck to you too, Faerie Tale. No further questions.”

Athena waved quietly at her with a smile.

“It was nice to meet you, ma’am. Phoenix talks about you a lot, so… She bowed her head “I hope I get to speak with you again someday. Good luck.”

"Knowing Phoenix, I'm sure we will, red. Tell him hello for me, will you?" She blew a kiss to the table, and then– was gone.

Pearl Fey slumped exhausted onto her arms against the table. "Oooh….."

Athena’s concern immediately reasserted itself and she hurried over to put her hand on Pearl’s back. “You alright, Pearl? That probably took a lot out of you..”

"I'm okay!" she said, raising her head a little and giving a shaky thumbs up. "Did Miss Mia help?"

Bobby was already out of his chair, and he saluted the little medium. "She helped a great deal, Miss Fey. Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Oh good! I want some juice," Pearl said. She giggled exhaustively and returned his salute. Athena could feel pride radiating from her. "And a looooong nap."

"You've more than earned both, Fey-dono," Simon nodded.

Athena nodded with a broad grin “the best juice in Cauli, even.” she playfully punched her shoulder “i’ll even carry you if you still want.”

Sheila laughed and slapped the table “bravo, Small Medium. You really were at Large today. Nickname earned. I’ll have Lang grab you an honorary badge for your service to Interpol today.”

Pearl found the strength to sit up at that. "Really? That would be so cool! Ooohg…" With a dizzy look she leaned against Athena's hand.

“Really.” Agent Ash purred, and pulled out her phone. She typed a message and winked “...sent. Stop in before you leave Cauli and I’ll ensure you get it.”

Athena rubbed her back with a chuckle. “Yeah Pearl… I’m definitely gonna carry you.”

#pearl fey #mia fey #apollo justice #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust

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lardguz · 6 months

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A Samurai's Hunger for Justice

This was originally longer, but I wasn't happy with the last part of it at all, and decided to just delete it entirely. But, I have returned with more gay fat lawyers! This time, featuring a certain samurai prosecutor and loud defense attorney! I never used to ship these two but uh, this dynamic is kind of super hot and gave me intense brainrot for months. Sooooooo I hope you all enjoy!

It was a rather nice spring day in Los Angeles, as Apollo Justice looked down at his phone’s screen. He looked back up at the restaurant in front of him, scratching the back of his head with worry. Prosecutor Simon Blackquill, the Twisted Samurai himself, had invited the young defense attorney out to lunch after their courtroom battle earlier that day, baffling Apollo. He had thought the stern former convict hated him, so being invited to eat with him was unexpected at the very least. As he walked up to the glass door of the restaurant, Apollo caught sight of his own reflection staring back at him. The anxiety plastered on his chubby face was quite apparent, so he took a deep breath and clapped either side of his face with his hands. He straightened his tie and walked in, spotting Prosecutor Blackquill immediately. The thick-haired black and white clad man was pretty hard to miss, sipping on a cup of hot tea as he shot a look at the chubby defense attorney as he entered. Apollo hesitantly made his way over to the table, pulling out the chair across from Blackquill and taking a seat.

Apollo awkwardly coughed before speaking. “So, uh, Prosecutor Blackquill! What’s, um… Why did you want to meet me?” he asked hesitantly.

The intimidating man chuckled mirthlessly. “I see you truly do assume the worst in me, Justice-dono. Why is it that acquaintances cannot just invite each other to a meal after a long battle?” Apollo snorted quietly at Simon’s ever-present dramatic and overly-traditional way of speaking, grabbing the menu in front of him and scanning it while he mulled over the prosecutor’s question. He had never really realized that Prosecutor Blackquill qualified as an acquaintance of his, mostly just thinking of knowing him as his coworker Athena Cykes’s older brother figure. Contrary to his thoughts, Apollo realized that he had fought against Simon in court a number of times now, almost as much as he’d gone against Klavier, who he saw as a close friend.

Apollo decided on ordering a sandwich platter and a large soda, and looked up at Prosecutor Blackquill to respond to him after he placed his order as well. “I guess I just never realized we were ‘acquaintances’, Prosecutor Blackquill. I kind of just thought you preferred hanging out with Athena since, well, you know…” Apollo trailed off as he saw the look on Simon’s face shift abruptly, and sensing danger, decided to drop that line of conversation. They sat in silence until their food arrived, Apollo blushing and staring at his lap while avoiding the gaze of the dark-eyed man opposite to him. While looking down, Apollo noted that the lowest button on his red waistcoat was starting to strain around his chubby gut a little. Apollo had never been a skinny man, especially during his law school days, when the stress of studying had him balloon up to 450 pounds at one point. After he got fired from his first law firm after finding his mentor guilty of murder on his first trial ever, Apollo had briefly gained some of his college weight back but he’d been working on trying to lose it again, though the strained button on his vest told him he wasn’t doing a very good job.

Apollo snapped out of his line of thought as their food arrived, and immediately he grabbed for half of his sandwich, not looking up until he had taken one huge bite. What he saw in front of him shocked him momentarily: Simon Blackquill had an entire party platter in front of him, and he was picking away at it diligently with a speed that surprised the much heavier defense attorney. “Wow,” Apollo mumbled through his mouthful of sandwich, “you must be pretty hungry Prosecutor Blackquill!”

The long-haired wannabe samurai stopped his strategic attack on his food to snap his head up and glare at the chubby man across from him. “What is that supposed to imply, Justice-dono?” he growled through gritted teeth, causing Apollo to immediately backpedal.

“W-well, what I uh, meant, was that, um…” the chubby lawyer stammered, his eyes wide as he worried that Blackquill might be hiding any number of weapons on his person at any time. He took a deep breath to compose himself before finishing his thought. “I’m sorry, I guess I just was surprised that you were intending to eat so much food.”

Simon glared at his dining partner again. “What’s wrong with how much I choose to eat to refuel after a long battle of wits?”

“Oh, nothing!” Apollo grinned awkwardly. “That’s just a lot more food than even I can eat, and I was thinking if you keep eating like that…” Simon growled again, causing Apollo to cut his thought short.

“I can eat TWICE this much, and my diligent samurai training regimen allows me to not gain a single ounce of weight from it, Justice-dono!” He slammed his fist onto the table fiercely, rattling the dishes and silverware, and sending their waiter scrambling over to see what was wrong. “Bring me another of these platters, on the double.” The waiter nodded and walked away quickly, while Simon continued tearing into his party platter with a much less methodical and calculated approach, instead just going for speed and ferocity. Apollo sat there dumbfounded, completely taken aback by the normally-stoic prosecutor’s competitive outburst. His own lunch lay completely forgotten as he sat there, transfixed by Simon’s frenzied eating.

When the second party platter arrived at their table, Simon merely gave a curt nod to the waiter, mouth too stuffed with bite-sized foods to verbalize anything. He finished his original platter and chugged the large soda he had ordered with it, draining it in less than a minute. Then he proceeded to begin attacking the new plate piled high with the tiny party sized foods, but this time noticeably slower. Simon was clearly wincing occasionally, trying to resist the urge to rub his overstuffed gut, which was just starting to look the slightest bit distended under his tailored waistcoat.

Apollo jolted out of his stunned silence. He saw Prosecutor Blackquill flagging in his consumption, his normally dark-circled eyes dropping even more underneath his thick, salt and pepper bangs. “Aw, come on, Prosecutor Blackquill!” Apollo grinned mischievously, “You’re not giving up that easily, are you?” Simon grunted through a stuffed mouth, shooting an exhausted and painted glare at the brown haired man. Apollo leaned back in his chair, and patted his tubby gut. “I was going to be so impressed if you managed to eat that much food in one sitting!” The young man sighed dramatically as he put his arms behind his head. “Oh well, I guess we’ll both just have to go home disappointed that you couldn’t keep your word.”

Simon snapped back up, ignoring the jolt of pain from his overstuffed gut. His honor had been challenged, and he would not let himself be defeated here. The black-and-white-clad prosecutor began stuffing his face with even more speed than at the start of his challenge, occasionally groaning in discomfort around mouthfuls of food. Apollo sat in his chair, grinning like a child in a candy store. It was so good to finally find a weakness in the stern Prosecutor Blackquill, and one that could be so easily exploited! Wait, Apollo thought with alarm, why do I care that I know Prosecutor Blackquill’s weak spot? I’m not fighting him or anything! We’re just legal rivals! The awkward defense attorney suddenly blushed furiously. Unless… maybe I want to see him do this more often?

Simon slammed his fists loudly onto the table, causing Apollo to leap up and yelp in surprise. The man’s thick ponytail was just slightly damp with sweat, his bangs sticking just a bit to his brow. He was panting heavily, and his face looked pained, but a smug expression was plastered all over his flushed face. “I… haah… win, Justice-dono.” Apollo looked down at the monochrome-themed outfit Blackquill always wore, his tight waistcoat straining around a soccer ball sized gut. Simon clasped both sides of said gut, running it to try and reduce the pain. Apollo coughed awkwardly. “You, uh, you sure did, Prosecutor Blackquill! I’m impressed you, um, managed it…” He trailed off once more as thoughts flooded his mind. Maybe… maybe he should start spending more time with Prosecutor Blackquill. He certainly seemed entertaining at the very least.

Apollo and Simon had been regularly meeting up for meals and conversation after their courtroom battles for about a month. Apollo found the former death row inmate absolutely fascinating, from his love of all things samurai, to his dedication and kindness towards his pet hawk, Taka. Most of all, however, Apollo loved how he reacted to being taunted when he was eating. Something about the way Simon got defensive over how much he ate, or could eat, delighted Apollo, and he thought he was finally figuring out why. He noticed that more and more often, even in court, he was able to get a reaction out of the ordinarily stoic prosecutor. Apollo would make a jab about Blackquill’s arguments in court, or his body in public, and Simon would get this look on his face that the defense attorney just loved. His brooding expression would break for just a moment, his eyes would look overcome with some strong emotion Apollo couldn’t quite identify, and suddenly it was gone again, hidden behind a burning glare of determination. He wanted to see that look every chance he could get.

The young defense attorney currently sat across from his new rival, watching him tearing into a triple cheeseburger with stunning speed. The amount of greasy meat being bitten off and swallowed so rapidly was staggering. Apollo smirked and said, “Wow, Prosecutor Blackquill, I think you might finally be wider than me now! Maybe you should cut back a little.” The defense attorney had spoken loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, causing some other tables nearby to start muttering about the display of gluttonous depravity taking place at their table. Simon swallowed his crammed mouthful of beef and cheese, eyes narrowed, as he growled back at Apollo, “You know as well as I that I can lose weight whenever I want. I am a proud samurai, descendant of proud samurais, and I am not even that large, Justice-dono.”

Apollo laughed uproariously in response. “Hahahaha, you can’t actually be serious, Prosecutor Blackquill! Have you looked in any mirrors lately? Or, better yet, try looking down at yourself! You’re clearly almost too big for that little chair, and I’m not even close to being that big yet!” Apollo felt a jolt of satisfaction as he saw the cold expression on Simon’s face melt for a second, realizing that even if he outwardly pretended to hate it, Prosecutor Blackquill enjoyed his teasing as much as he did. The portly man had recently upsized most of his wardrobe, but his steady weight gain made it very apparent that he wouldn’t be able to keep that up sustainably. His new waistcoat already strained around his new moobs at the top, and around his ever softer abdomen, his gut sitting in his lap every time he sat down. His signature long black and white coat, which was a custom piece, was the one part of his wardrobe that hadn’t been upsized because it couldn’t be modified, so it now strained around his fattening arms and shoulders, the fabric clinging to them like it was painted on. His soft fat rolls on his sides and back pooled over his belted pants, forming a pronounced muffin top. His thighs and ass cheeks pressed gently into the arms of his chair, threatening to get him stuck in it if he kept eating. The once-muscular prosecutor had undeniably let himself go, and Apollo could tell that behind all the stoic attempts to deny it, Simon was enjoying it just as much as he was. Maybe even more.

The defense attorney grinned smugly, resting his chin on one of his hands. “Well, I guess if you can lose this weight whenever you want to,” Apollo said, his tone dismissive, “you can just give up on our lunch right now…”

Simon’s head shot up, a mouthful of burger hanging from between his overstuffed cheeks, shooting a glare full of anger and something else at the pudgy attorney. He flagged down their waiter, hastily swallowing his food before speaking. “I want you to bring me three—no, four—more of these triple burger combos, and I want them on the table before I’ve finished this one. Understood?” The waiter nodded, visibly shaken by his murderous tone, and ran back to the kitchen while Simon resumed tearing into his burger with renewed vigor. Apollo watched in amused silence. There was no way Simon would be able to finish five triple decker combos in one sitting, not even at his size. He couldn’t wait to see the sinking look of defeat on his rival’s face when he realized he couldn’t do it.

Simon stuffed his face with his current burger as fully as possible, cheeks bulging as he chewed and swallowed the massive amounts of greasy beef, cheese, and buns that he loaded into his mouth. He took fistfuls of fries and shoved them into his greedy maw as well, his double chin flecked with crumbs fallen from his overfilled mouth. The waiter scrambled up with the four other plates of food, overflowing with fries, and placed them on the table before running back to the kitchen again. The portly prosecutor smirked around his final mouthful of his first combo meal, looking Apollo in the eye cockily. The brunette smiled back dismissively, silently mouthing the words Four more to go! at his dining partner. Simon glared once more before picking up his second burger and ripping an enormous bite off of it, then a second and a third. Apollo’s confidence began to waver as Blackquill finished the second plate in record time and moved onto the third without slowing down at all, though his face was covered in grease and crumbs, as was the front of his vest, whose buttons were straining ominously.

Simon finally started to slow down after the fourth platter, his movements visibly slowing down. His round gut strained the buttons of his vest to their very limit, and pressed firmly against the edge of the table in front of him. The surly prosecutor was sweating, pale face flushed around his round food-stained cheeks and his black and white bangs plastered to his forehead. He winced as he lifted the final three-tiered burger to his greasy lips, breathing heavily as he opened his mouth for another massive bite. Apollo could only look on in stunned silence, watching the obese prosecutor exhaustedly swallow the final plate of food. When Simon stuffed the last of the fries into his mouth and swallowed them, he leaned back in his chair and let out a groan of triumph, his hands immediately rubbing his straining gut.

Apollo blinked in shock, then rose from his chair to offer Blackquill his hand. “All right, fair is fair, you win this time.” Apollo smiled. Simon looked up at him, his exhausted face giving nothing away as his grease-slicked hand grabbed Apollo’s. They both strained and tugged to try and get the stuffed man out of his chair, and eventually he popped free. Prosecutor Blackquill stood up, and Apollo finally got a good look at the damage his challenge had done to his rival. The seams of Simon’s pants had started to split from the thunderous thighs straining them, his pale flab poking through like bubbles of lard, but most notable was his finely tailored vest, whose buttons looked like they were going to shoot off of his distended abdomen at any moment. Simon’s pronounced dome of a gut stuck out at least a foot from his body, and looked firm to the touch.

Realizing he might have gone a bit too far this time, Apollo offered his shoulder to the obese man. “C’mon, big guy,” he grunted as Simon leaned his considerable weight onto the presented shoulder, “Let’s get you back to my apartment to sleep this off, okay?” The chubby defense attorney and rotund prosecutor made quite a pair as Apollo helped Simon painstakingly waddle his way to the train station, the overstuffed taller man huffing and panting the entire trek. He immediately flopped onto one of the seats on the train up on entering, his thighs and love handles overflowing just slightly into the seats next to him. The pale prosecutor’s face was flushed and sweaty from the walk to the train station. When they reached their stop, Apollo helped hoist the exhausted man from his seat and once again supported him with his shoulder to help him up the stairs to his apartment. The two men were panting for breath by the time they reached the apartment door, Apollo fumbling for his keys while Simon leaned his bulk against the wall, his taut orb of a gut still straining the buttons of his vest nearly to bursting.

Apollo finally unlocked his door and led his tired rival inside his sparsely decorated apartment. Simon spotted a loveseat sofa and immediately waddled over to it, collapsing onto it gratefully. He laid down on his back and immediately began massaging his painfully stuffed stomach, groaning in discomfort. Apollo made his way to the kitchen, humming a little song as he opened the fridge. Simon was too exhausted to notice what the defense attorney was doing until he was standing next to him, holding a large white box in his hands and grinning mischievously.

“What… what do you want, Justice-dono?” Simon grunted, “Can’t you see I’m a little preoccupied?”

“Oh, I noticed, don’t worry.” Apollo responded cheerily. “I was just bringing you your dessert!”

Blackquill winced. “D-dessert?! But I… I don’t have any room left for anymore—”

The box was placed firmly on Simon’s distended abdomen, Apollo opened the top and grabbed a slice of the chocolate confection inside with his bare hands. “Don’t be silly, Simon,” he said in a soothing tone, “you can’t just ignore dessert! How else are you supposed to finish a proper meal? Plus…” Apollo chuckled. “You can’t really consider me impressed by your eating capabilities until you’ve broken out of that tight vest of yours.”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “Is that another challenge, Justice-dono?”

Apollo nodded, and silently lifted the cake slice to the obese man’s lips. Simon immediately snapped forward and took a huge bite of it, then another. In three bites it was gone, and Apollo promptly lifted another slice to his mouth. With his other hand, he rubbed Blackquill’s straining gut, trying to relieve some of the pressure inside and make more room for the rest of the cake. The sounds of straining seams and ripping fabric was slightly overshadowed by the loud chewing and heavy breathing. Halfway through the cake, the bottommost button of Simon’s struggling vest finally gave up the fight, pinging off and flying across the room at top speeds. The rest of the buttons straining around his bulging gut snapped off in quick succession, but the buttons holding back his huge moobs continued to hold on. With three slices left, one of the buttons finally broke off, with another flying off after the second to last slice. Simon’s face was covered in sweat, crumbs, and smears of frosting, his eyes glazed over from the oncoming food coma. Apollo gently guided the last cake slice into his mouth, and as he swallowed, the last button flew off. Simon was breathing heavily, his panting mouth leaving his cheeks and double chin jiggling with every breath. His chubby cheeks were suddenly grabbed by a hand on either side as Apollo straddled his enormous gut and planted his lips against Simon’s, passionately kissing his rival for the first time. Simon froze at first, but then melted into the kiss, realizing that this was all he had wanted all along: Apollo Justice‘s love and approval.

Just a few months after their first kiss, Apollo and Simon were once again back in the courtroom against each other. The red-clad defense attorney threw back his arm and pointed, letting out one of his law firm’s famously-yelled “Objection!” cries. The entire court was stunned into silence by the force behind his self-proclaimed Chords of Steel, so he had a quiet moment to piece together his argument before proceeding.

“Your Honor,” Apollo began, his voice uncharacteristically confident, “the prosecution is drawing a lot of assumptions about my client without any evidence. I would like to present my own evidence that contradicts everything Prosecutor Blackquill has been arguing so far!” He slammed his hands onto the desk for emphasis. “My client could not have cooked the seafood stew that was used to kill the victim, as he is also deathly allergic to shellfish, like the victim was!”

“Silence!” The growling shout echoed from the opposite side of the courtroom. Simon Blackquill banged his fists onto the desk in front of him, chuckling darkly before speaking. “Justice-dono, is that really your argument? Couldn’t the defendant merely have worn gloves to prepare the deadly meal for the victim?”

Apollo smirked. “Well, Prosecutor Blackquill, if you had been paying more attention to the case instead of stuffing your face with all those snacks you have hidden behind your bench, you would know that that’s not possible.” The defense attorney’s voice was smug, but in a teasing manner, like a parent chiding a child for getting into the cookie jar. Simon’s chubby cheeks flushed, embarrassed that Apollo would tease him in front of the entire courtroom. “Or,” the defense attorney continued, “perhaps your stomach might be covering up some of the files on your desk?” He grinned. “It does seem to be pressing into the desk pretty hard these days, Prosecutor Blackquill. Maybe you should consider getting a specially modified prosecution bench for someone as… ample as you.”

Simon bit his chubby lower lip to cover up the whine he almost let out in response to Apollo’s public teasing. The courtroom gallery murmured, Blackquill able to catch snippets of some of the onlookers commenting on his skyrocketing weight. It truly was undeniable now how much the once-muscular Simon Blackquill had let himself go in recent months. The former death row inmate had lost all of his once intimidating facial features, his chubby chipmunk cheeks and prominent double chin softening his usually dark expression. He had just gotten a new suit tailored to his current measurements yesterday, but his obese body was highlighted more than ever by it. His biceps were covered in jiggling, saggy fat, hiding any muscle he once had and even beginning to fold over his elbows just slightly. His wrists and hands were even getting fat now, his fingers almost akin to little sausages. His chest was already starting to strain the buttons of his tailored waistcoat slightly, his enormous moobs resting comfortably on either side of his gut, the clothes preventing them from sagging under their own weight for now. His monstrous gut, when tucked into his waistband like it had to be for court, sat like a dome sticking out almost 2 feet from his body, pressing firmly around the prosecutor’s bench in front of him and even resting on top of it in places. His love handles and side rolls bulged out over his waistband, forming a pronounced muffin top and preventing his fat arms from resting flat at his sides. His suit pants looked like they had been painted onto his legs, so form-fitting across his thighs and ass cheeks that you could practically see every roll, fold, dimple, and stretch mark under the tight fabric. His thigh fat, much like his biceps, was starting to collapse over his knees and melt into his calves, which, combined with how much he had to spread his legs apart to keep his thighs from rubbing together painfully, meant he had to walk in a pronounced waddle whenever he needed to get somewhere now. The jab Apollo had made about the snacks behind his bench was also true, Simon now notorious for “sneaking” a bite or three during his opponents’ arguments. This was, however, detrimental to his own formation of counterarguments, the once-whip smart prosecutor now more frequently stumbling through trials because he was too distracted by food to notice a contradiction. Many people were making fun of Blackquill for what they perceived as his degradation into becoming a useless fat slob, but little did they know, it was all what he most fervently desired.

After the case wrapped up with Apollo victorious, Simon sat in the prosecution lobby ravenously devouring the rest of his pile of snacks while waiting for Apollo to meet him. Just as he was pouring the last crumbs from a potato chip bag into his greedy mouth, the doors opened, and the chubby defense attorney walked in. He silently offered his hand to the obese prosecutor, helping him up off the groaning antique sofa beneath his corpulent rear. Apollo planted a kiss right on Simon’s chubby lips, still covered in snack crumbs, and began helping his rotund boyfriend waddle to the train station. The courthouse was only a block away, but that was still one block of agonized waddling for the out of shape prosecutor. Huffing and wheezing the entire way, his face flushed and his body sweating profusely, Simon had to stop to catch his breath no less than 5 times in such a short distance. Apollo teased him the entire time, calling him a pig and commenting on how far he’d let himself go since they started talking more often. Simon loved every second of it, whining between breaths as he tightened his grip around Apollo’s hand.

When they finally got on the train, Simon immediately sat down, his enormous behind requiring two seats, one for each cheek. Apollo laughed. “Oh, gosh, Simon, you’re so huge! How selfish of you, taking up two whole seats on the train! What if someone else needs one?”

Simon blushed. His breathing was still heavy from the trek to the train station, so he had to speak between wheezes. “I… h-hope… haah… that I-I… hhhh… t-t-take u-up… haah, haah… an entire… row… s-someday… haah…” He squirmed a little in anticipation for that day, making his flabby body jiggle and wobble. This made Apollo blush in return, imagining his boyfriend so desperate to please him that he became too fat to even move. He leaned forward and kissed Simon’s sweaty blushing cheek, whispering in his ear, “I’ll make sure you get that big and even bigger, you greedy hog.” The lardball of a prosecutor couldn’t stop himself from moaning when he heard that come out of his boyfriend’s mouth. Apollo loved seeing that pleading look in Simon’s eyes, that desire to eat and become as fat as he could, just to impress him. He wanted to see that look every day of the rest of their lives.

When the train arrived at their stop, Apollo once again helped hoist his boyfriend off his prodigious rear, and held his fat hand to help guide him to their apartment. Once they arrived at the building, Simon made for the elevator, but Apollo stopped him. “We’re not doing that today,” he whispered deviously. “You’re much too fat now, Simon. What would the other tenants think if they found out some landwhale broke the elevator with his fat ass?”

Simon whined, but then readapted his surly demeanor. “What are you suggesting, Justice-dono? How am I supposed to get to our home if not for the elevator?”

Apollo took his chubby hand again and guided him to the staircase. “It’s either these, or no dinner for you, Simon.” The defense attorney grinned mischievously as Blackquill stared up at the stairs, his initial worried expression morphing to determination when food was mentioned. The rotund man grabbed the railings on either side of the staircase with his soft, round fingers, and began slowly and painfully lifting his bulk up the stairs, one lard-coated leg at a time. After just one step he was wheezing and coated in sweat, and he had to take a break after three steps up the stairs. Apollo stood behind him, ready to catch his bulk in case he lost his footing or if his overburdened legs gave out on him. Thankfully that wasn’t necessary, but it did take over half an hour for Simon to get to the second floor where their apartment was.

Once Apollo unlocked the door and they were both inside, Simon immediately grabbed his boyfriend and held him against the nearest wall, his plush gut enveloping Apollo in a warm embrace as they made out passionately in the dark. Apollo found his hands roaming his boyfriend’s folds and rolls, pinching and shaking them, delighting in how soft and flabby he has become because of his encouragement. Simon, being much taller than Apollo, loved seeing his boyfriend’s body buried between his flab and the wall, his face just barely poking up between his moobs. He bit his boyfriend’s lips a bit between kisses, pressing his own bulk harder and harder against the wall. Suddenly, his stomach gurgled, and the lovestruck pair realized that Simon hadn’t eaten since court. Apollo ran to the kitchen to grab snacks, while Simon sat down on the couch to order himself delivery from a couple restaurants nearby. Apollo returned from the kitchen with his arms full of bags of snacks, dumping them on the table in front of his morbidly obese boyfriend, who immediately began ripping open the packaging and devouring the snacks in a frenzy. About 20 minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Apollo got up to grab the stacks of take out containers, leaving Simon to continue stuffing his fat face on the couch. Gently placing the towers of boxes on the table, Apollo opened one and straddled his boyfriend’s flabby gut. “Here’s tonight’s challenge,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “You rip all those clothes off you just by eating all this food, and I’ll feed you dessert in our bed.” Simon moaned, nodding frantically, reaching for the greasy quadruple decker burger in the box that Apollo offered him. His boyfriend smiled and let him take it. “Guess that’s a yes, then. All right, I’ll keep the food coming.” Apollo pulled out his phone, ordering even more food just to make sure that finely tailored suit was reduced to shreds by the time the night was done.

It didn’t take long for some of the tighter seams of Simon’s suit to start straining and ripping. After just a few of the greasy towering burgers from the nearby burger restaurant, little diamonds of soft, pale flab were poking through on the outer seams of his pants, and the shoulders of his dress shirt were starting to suffer the same fate. His fat face was covered in grease, his cheeks wobbling and his double chin budding into a triple chin when he chewed. The button on his dress pants, which his massive gut was still stuffed into, pinged off after an alarmingly short period, allowing the surge of stomach rolls to begin billowing forth onto his lap. Simon moaned in delight, the sound muffled by a mouthful of juicy bacon cheeseburger. His fat hands began stuffing his mouth at an even faster pace, the chubby sausage fingers greedily grabbing at anything Apollo held out within reach. After about an hour, all the buttons of his waistcoat had burst off, revealing the straining buttons of his dress shirt, complete with rips around his impressive moobs. The seams of his sleeves were almost completely torn apart, his flabby shoulders nearly ripping the sleeves right off the shirt entirely. Suddenly, after eating a party size tray of deep fried cheese sticks, the buttons of his shirt gave out one after the other, starting from the bottom of his sagging gut and working all the way up to his trifecta of wobbling chins. With the demise of his shirt buttons, his cascading stomach rolls surged forward with no barrier, with the largest lower roll almost flowing to the edge of where his knees once were.

Apollo chuckled, withholding the next box of greasy fast food from his hopelessly obese boyfriend, waiting until he finished his current batch to see if he noticed the food had stopped. Sure enough, Simon immediately noticed as soon as he swallowed the last of his fried chicken wings, his flabby hands grasping around desperately for any nearby food. His gray eyes suddenly locked with Apollo’s, as he saw the bag of delivery boxes dangling from his hand. “Justice-dono,” he growled, “give me that, now “

Apollo smirked. “Not until you beg for it, Simon.” He waggled the overflowing sack of food back and forth, watching his corpulent boyfriend’s glare soften into a look of desperation, his pudgy lips quivering as he unconsciously whimpered. The voracious overstuffed man raised his jiggly arms, his fat sausage fingers grasping desperately towards the delicious fattening treats he so badly craved. Apollo felt a surge of pride, mingled with desire, at seeing the once-proud samurai prosecutor reduced to a pitiful blob of adipose, too addicted to being fed to even put up a fight anymore. The chubby defense attorney never thought he could be so attracted to someone so pathetic, but something about finally being the one in control gave him such a thrill.

Apollo finally relented after watching his barely-clothed partner struggle to reach for the food for a good few minutes, placing the bag of food directly on top of Simon’s overstuffed gut. The greedy hog of a man eagerly began ripping open the takeout containers, desperately stuffing the food within into his mouth to sate his hungry stomach. The more he devoured, the more the sounds of ripping fabric and busting seams began to fill the apartment. His flabby arms and pancake stacks of love handles and side rolls reduced the remains of his shirt to shreds, and his enormous couch-filling ass cheeks and jiggling thigh rolls quickly burst out of the restraining dress pants, immediately pooling out beneath him and spreading across the cushions being crushed underneath his bulk.

As the final death knell of his tailored suit ripped through the air, Simon swallowed the last of his dinner, his entire chest jiggling from how hard he was panting. His flabby face was flushed and sweaty, but his gray eyes glowed with pride. The morbidly obese prosecutor looked over at his boyfriend Apollo, who was walking into the kitchen. The red-suited man returned with a bag filled with bakery boxes, a soft smile on his chubby face. “Well, a promise is a promise. You did great, Simon.” Apollo grabbed his boyfriend’s chubby wrists, hoisting the enormous man off of his flabby ass and helping him waddle his way into their bedroom. The lowest roll of his overfed gut loudly slapped against his thunderous thighs with every slow step he took, and Apollo kept glancing back to look at Simon’s shapeless ass cheeks jiggling and wobbling constantly the entire time. When they arrived in the bedroom, Simon gratefully collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving from the effort to walking just a few feet. After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, an exercise in futility at his size, the obese man shifted his flabby physique so he could lay on his back. Apollo straddled his boyfriend’s lap-covering gut, laying himself between his pillowy moobs, and opened the first of the white boxes. Inside was a decadent chocolate cake, with lots of gooey frosting and ganache. Grabbing a big slice with his bare hand, Apollo lifted it to Simon’s waiting mouth. “Open wide, babe. You’ve earned this.” In between stuffing pieces of the sticky sweet cake into his boyfriend’s chubby mouth, Apollo also took breaks to make out with him, caressing his jiggling jowls and chins while licking the frosting off his lips between kisses. He relished in hearing Simon’s labored breathing up close and personal, feeling his panting breaths against his own mouth as their lips met. Apollo thought about how lucky he was to have met Simon, and how much luckier he was to have discovered his softer side, as he heard his flabby boyfriend moan softly, his hunger for more cake eclipsing his lust for more kisses.

#bhm weight gain #ssbhm #male weight gain #weight gain #feeder feedee

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