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manias-wordcount · 1 month

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Show 'Em How (Phoenix Wright x Reader x Miles Edgeworth)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺, 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯 𝗱𝗮𝘆. 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗷𝗼𝗯, 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

When you were younger, you had a crush on two boys.

The type of crush that left people with heat stuck in their cheeks and eyes casted down at the ground. The type of crush that left people like you stammering and stuttering and trying too awfully hard to look cool yet cute in every moment they’re in view. But they grew up. So did you. Though those feelings you had for the now-grown men didn’t completely disappear. You’re not even sure if they lessened enough for you to no longer feel embarrassed about it all.

But for the longest time, you just didn’t get what you saw in both of them. After all, you thought that they couldn’t be any more different from each other aside from their shared strong will. So what made you like them still after all these years? What made you linger around like a ghost- hoping and hoping for the one who sees you. Despite knowing they would never see you as you’ve always seen them. Someone to love. Someone to adore. Someone to hold tight and want to protect for as long as they live. But that’s the thing.

“You’re getting so good at this, aren’t you sweetheart?”

You only thought you knew that.

“Mmm,” You make a quiet hum with the back of your throat as you look up at one of the men before you. “Mmm…”

You always thought of Miles Edgeworth as a gentleman- even when you both just attending grade school. You thought of him as refined and forever poised- even in the trickiest of situations. And now, you’d admit that some of that holds true. He’s still oh-so gentle as he cards his fingers through your hair and keeps the loose strands out of the way. He’s still oh-so kind as he looks at you with eyes that hold emotions so far away from disgust and malice that you could easily forget if you wanted to. If you tried. But most of all? He’s still oh-so-sweet in the way he calls on you- insisting on sweetheart even as you wrap your lips around his dick and suck him off while free hand focuses on his rival.

“I could have told you that,” A voice from your side grumbles. Some that have your heart thumping out of your chest and shivers running down your spine at the exact same time. It’s the same Phoenix Wright that you’ve always been smitten with. Though it’s admittedly more charming now that you’re able to hear him talking so casually. Without stress about investigations. Without drama from court cases. None of that stuff. Although… “And quit hogging! It was my turn to get sucked off ages ago!”

You suppose nothing can be quite drama-free with those two. But you suppose it’s your fault, isn’t it? It started with you getting a little bold one night. A little brave. Then suddenly, you’re writing love letters. Love confession with the hearts and the secrets and the obvious embarrassment dripping from every single word. But this running off of a courageous high (or rather, a steep amount of liquid courage), and suddenly yourself with new emails in your outgoing mail folder. And two emails in your ingoing mail folder- each agreeing to the time and the place that drunken you had asked to meet.

Truthfully, you don’t remember how exactly your confession went. Maybe you blocked it all from memory. Maybe you didn’t. But whatever happened must have been a good thing between all three of you.

Because why else would Phoenix be wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling you off of his rival’s cock all so he could lead you and your puckered lips toward his?

“Pay attention to me too, okay?” He reminds you gently as he gives you a big smile. Instantly, you’re enamored again now that he’s the boy with your most direct attention (even though Miles’ huff is very clearly an attempt to get your eyes back off him). But Phoenix doesn’t pay him any mind- instead, he’s too busy pushing your head closer and closer to him as his free hand holds his fully erect cock out for your to slide into your throat. “I’m willing to share but you can’t forget about me, alright?”

You’re barely registering his words. Just giving him a simple nod before your back up and sitting on your knees and wrapping your lips around the pretty dick in front of you. It stands tall and proud in front of you with quite a few noticeable veins decorating it in its entirety. A small bead of precum has been spilling from the top. But you don’t waste another second on dumb thoughts and inaction. Instead, you’re flattening your tongue and taking the thing into your mouth easily. Completely. Happily.

The salty taste hits your goosebumps a second later, but Phoenix is quick to ease you into taking his entire length all at once. He coaches you into breathing the way he knows you should, and you focus on relaxing your mouth the same way you did for Miles so he slides right in with little resistance. But Phoenix is thicker than Miles. Not as long, but much much thicker. And so the instant you feel him start to fill up your mouth in a way that feels like too much at once, you cough. Just a little.

Even so, it’s still enough to get Miles to hurry out a call of “Be careful” to the other man, much to his displeasure. But it’s not your first. It’s far from it and everyone in the room knows that by now. So you’re quick to right things yourself. To adjust so that you mouth things about fitting Phoenix inside rather than Miles. And all too soon, you’re bobbing your head up and down and up and down and up and down. Letting it glide through your warm, wet throat as the man you’re sucking off balls his hands into tight fists and leans back into his chair.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Phoenix all but groans as he closes his eyes and tosses his head back. His voice is much lower than what you’re used to. Softer. Quieted. More controlled even. Not that you really mind it though. As much as you love your Phoenix- the one who’s bright and loud and only just a little dumb at times- you like the way you’re making him come undone like this. Making him count his every breath. Making him rise out of his chair and curse under his breath. Making him feel good. All because of you. All because of you. “Keep going- keep sucking like that. And- and do that thing with your tongue again. Okay, baby?”

Your heart melts at the nickname. Baby. You’re so soft for these two it’s ridiculous. But perhaps it’s more ridiculous how soft they are for you. How willing they are for you. Most men would hate sharing a lover. And yet, here comes Miles- reaching over and pulling back your hair again so you can continue focusing on running your tongue against every vein on Phoenix’s dick again and again and again.

And sometime later, you’ll start stroking Miles’ cock again, not wanting him to lose the pretty hard-on he brought out just for you. Pumping your fist up and down and up and down- in time with the way you bod your head on the other man’s cock. But pretty soon all of Miles’ sweet little compliments will draw your attention away. Pretty soon, you’re pulling your mouth off of Phoenix’s dick and wrapping your lips around Miles’ once more- pulling out all the moves you know he likes. Playing a little with his balls. Sucking a little extra hard on the head. And looking up at him through your eyelashes all pretty like when he started mumbling all kinds of selfish yet adoring words towards you.

And at some point, the other man in the room is going to feel content will sitting and watching anymore. At some point, he’s gonna want a hand or a mouth or that pretty little hole that’s been hiding between your legs all this time. At some point, he’s gonna want to make you do the squirming. Just like your other lover is gonna want to make you squeal and feel good. Feel oh-so ridiculously good. But he can wait. They both know how to wait at this point. And frankly, you do too.

Because you waited so many years to confess. You waited so many years to know if they liked you back. And you waited so many years before realizing that the answer had to be both or absolutely nothing at all. But they’ve made their decision. And you’ve made yours.

You know they know how to wait their turn. You know they know how to play nice. How to share. And you know they know how to do that with each other. Because you were there when they learned those things. And if they refuse to do it now?

Well, you’ll just have to show them how it’s done.

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tacobellabeanburrito · 3 months

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Anybody know that Narumitsu fanfic were Miles and Phoenix are connected by the Gay Golden Chains Of Fate and where Phoenix can see these chains and also other peoples relationships through different colored strings? I need to find it soooo badly.

Edit: Fanfic has been found, and they actually use the phrase “Gay Golden Chains Of Fate” which I think is hilarious. It’s in the replies if anyone wants to read it! It’s very good and cute!

#Narumitsu #mitsunaru #Wrightworth #edgewright #worthwright #bro they have so many variations #gay chains of fate #love that #so much #ace attorney #ace attorney anime #miles Edgeworth #ace attorney fanfic #Phoenix wright #edit because auto correct went and said #oh yeah that guy Phoenix weight

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floorpillow · 27 days

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I'm gonna share some of my fav ace attorney fics with y'all please enjoy. It's mostly narumitsu but there's some klapollo there too

@girlanachrotism sent me all but one? Two? Of these btw. I just think I should say that

A brief for the defense by Ophelia_writes (18 chapters, ONGOING, one of the most well-written fics I've ever read. Takes place during the first trilogy with the last few chapters taking place during Bridge To The Turnabout. This fiction gave me whiplash genuinely I think it did something to me. Highly highly recommend even though it's still ongoing)

Pressure (pushing down on me) by ApprenticeofDoyle (7 chapters, COMPLETED. A few different cases, all original trilogy. This one's real good)

If I woke up (next to you) by ApprenticeofDoyle (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Same universe as Pressure ^. Takes place after the engarde case, love confessions between phoenix and miles. Implied sexual content but nothing explicit)

You ever been in love? By hechima (6 chapters, COMPLETED. Apollo justice trilogy. Slow burn, miles and phoenix are so in love)

Things are as they are by hechima (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Same universe as You ever been in love?. Miles sets Apollo and klavier up with a cabin for a few days. Love confessions)

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to) by sondersunrise (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles brings phoenix to a wedding as his plus one. Love confessions)

kick up the dust as we dance in the sun by whackamacka (11 chapters, COMPLETED. alright trust me on this one guys - 1930s dustbowl au narumitsu. Phoenix is an orphan farmboy who works ad a farmhand for the von karma estate. This one is so fucking good please try it I'm begging you)

come find me south of heaven by whackamacka (2 chapters, ONGOING. Sequel Fic to Kick Up The Dust. Phoenix as a defense attorney in Chicago)

i always want you when i'm finally fine by whiskeydmay (6 chapters, COMPLETED. This one's a hanahaki fic I am so weak for hanahaki. Five chapters from Phoenix pov and then one from miles pov.)

love most definitely requited by The_Eclectic_Bookworm (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Another hanahaki piece. Phoenix adopts trucy, and miles contracts Hanahaki. Franziska and Kay insist he confesses to Phoenix, so he does. Love confessions, fluff)

In The Dead Of Night by Harrowdeon (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles invites phoenix and trucy to Europe for a bit. Trucy wakes up from a nightmare and miles comforts her)

i'm getting so tired of coughing out my lungs by heiiskltchen (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Phoenix wright and his relationship with food after dahlia. This one is so heartbreaking tbh I fully agree with this concept)

#ace attorney #wrightworth #narumitsu #apollo justice #klapollo #fanfiction #ace attorney fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #my post #fav #a brief for the defense #abftd #ace attorney abftd

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axolotlsupremacyowo · 3 months

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Klapollo: Dissecting a song and talking about it's meaning

Franmaya: Snowball fight

Narumitsu: Edgeworth tries pie for the first time

BESTIE!!!!! HI BESTIE! So, all three of my fave ships, huh...? I can do that! Easy peasie!

Klapollo, 135 words

“Come now, Herr Forehead! You must admit, it’s the pinnacle of songwriting!” Apollo wasn’t sure how they had gotten into this discussion. One moment they were in bed together talking about music, and the next they were discussing song lyrics. Which then led to this ridiculous discussion. “Really, Klavier? “She’s indecisive, she can’t decide” is peak songwriting to you?” Apollo questioned with a brow raised. “Ja, of course! Is it not to you?” “Of course it isn’t! It’s repetitive! He already said she was indecisive, why would he explain what it means-” Apollo stopped as he saw the huge grin on Klavier’s face, shooting him a glare. “Wait, you’re just fucking with me!” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Herr Forehead.” Klavier laughed as Apollo hit him on the head with a pillow.

Franmaya, 240 words

One of the downsides of living in Los Angeles was the fact that it didn’t snow very often. Franziska missed it sometimes, the way snow blanketed the whole world in its pure white sheet, how brisk and cool the winter air was on her skin, the comfort of wearing winter clothes. Her and Maya Fey had decided to visit Franziska’s family in Germany, and Franziska had to admit, it was nice. It was nice getting to see the snow again. She still remembered when she hated the snow, and thought it was foolish. They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Franziska smiled at the sight of it, her aunt’s backyard covered in snow. That was, until she felt a snowball pelted at the back of her head. She turned around to the source of said snowball, smiling when she saw Maya grinning at her. “Gotcha, Franzy!” Franziska smiled, a plan forming in her head. “I really do love you, Maya Fey.” “I love you too Franzy- WOAH!” Maya yelped as a snowball hit her right in the face. Franziska snickered. “NOT FAIR, FRANZY! That’s cheating!” Maya said. “And so is hitting someone distracted with a snowball, Maya Fey.” Franziska replied. “Oh! You’re gonna get it!” The two laughed as they engaged in a fierce snowball fight. And as Franziska pelted a snowball at Maya’s face again, laughing when she pouted, Franziska knew that she was in love.

Narumitsu, 290 words

Phoenix could bake. That still surprised Miles to this day, even when Phoenix had baked cookies and brownies for him. Sure, Phoenix was a pretty good cook, but baking was different. Baking required an intense and meticulous precision, and that bluffer of a man was the opposite of precise. And yet, Phoenix could bake. There was no denying that. And he was a pretty darn good baker, too. Phoenix was just perfecting his recipe for strawberry pie, and he had asked Miles to taste test it for him. Miles was more than willing to, he was his boyfriend after all, and he always liked to see what Phoenix had in store for him. Besides, Miles had never tried strawberry pie, and he thought it’d be nice to finally try it. After hours of work, Phoenix was finally able to show Miles the pie that he had just baked. He carried it over to Miles, setting it down the table. Just by the way it looked it was already delicious, though looks really weren’t everything. “Here it is! And if it’s trash, please be honest with me. I wanna know what I’m doing wrong.” Phoenix said. “Of course, Wright.” Miles replied. Miles took a bite out of the pie, and his eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. It was incredible. The crust was perfectly soft and flakey, but not overpowering the sweet tart of the strawberry. Even if he’d never tried strawberry pie before, he knew this was the best pie in the world. Phoenix was staring at him, with wide eyes and flour on his clothes, face, and hair. “How is it…?” “It’s incredible.” Miles said with a smile. Phoenix grinned, Miles fell in love with that grin.

#ask game #fanfic ask game #ace attorney fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #apollo justice #klavier gavin #maya fey #franziska von karma #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #klapollo #franmaya #narumitsu #wrightworth #klavier x apollo #apollo x klavier #franziska x maya #maya x franziska

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defectivevillain · 4 months

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professional courtesy

pairing: Miles Edgeworth/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

*reader is racially ambiguous, pronouns are unspecified, and physical descriptors aren't used*

summary:

Miles Edgeworth always has the most recent evidence and an updated autopsy report when he prosecutes a case. His secret? You: a talented LAPD detective with no honest concept of “time off work.”

word count: 3.5k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sleep deprivation, fatigue

This snippet is focused on Miles Edgeworth/Reader and the dynamic can be perceived as romantic or platonic. The reader is a detective employed at the LAPD. The reader is also racially ambiguous and gender is unspecified.

Since this fic is, well, fiction, some parts may be unrealistic. Keep that in mind before you read. (For example, this takes place in a rather unrealistic universe in which Miles Edgeworth isn’t in love with Phoenix Wright. lol.)

You’ve been working in the Criminal Affairs Department at the Los Angeles Police Department for a few years now. You started out as a wide-eyed rookie, but within a few weeks, you quickly learned that detective work isn’t the perfect, harmless job you thought it was. You still love your position, of course, but you’ve investigated rather gruesome cases in your time at the LAPD. Now, you find yourself accustomed to the scent of formaldehyde and the sight of blood splattered across skin.

Through your position at the LAPD as an investigator, you’ve met your fair share of interesting characters—namely, defense attorneys and prosecutors. Unfortunately, interaction with legal professionals comes hand-in-hand with your investigations. You can’t remember the last time you had the pleasure of performing an independent investigation. You’re almost always hindered by a prosecutor breathing down your neck or a defense attorney frantically pressing you for evidence you don’t have. The constant presence of overbearing lawyers is just something you’ve grown used to.

They aren’t all so bad, you think to yourself. Miles Edgeworth, Klavier Gavin, Simon Blackquill, and Nahyuta Sadmadhi are all rather unique individuals, but they care about justice and aren’t falling prey to the dark age of the law. You enjoy working with all of them, even when Klavier can’t shut up about his latest concert or Simon’s hawk constantly uses your head as a perch. Truthfully, Miles Edgeworth is the most tolerable of the group—but you’d never admit that aloud.

You’re in your office one night, reviewing some paperwork and thinking about the recent case you were assigned, when you hear a knock on the door. You give the person permission to enter and the door falls open, revealing Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth himself. He’s wearing his typical prosecutor garb—his burgundy-maroon suit and cravat. Glasses are perched on his nose and he pushes them up a little. “Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth,” you remark, blinking at him. “Good to see you.”

“And you.” The prosecutor responds, his arms crossed over his chest as his gaze flits about your office. You suddenly feel strangely self-conscious, despite the knowledge that your office is very sparsely decorated. There’s an award mounted on the wall from last year and a small photo of you and your friends on your desk, but that’s about the extent of your decorations.

“Are you here for the updated autopsy report?” You ask, deciding to cut to the chase. From what you know of the prosecutor, he doesn’t quite enjoy small talk. Indeed, Edgeworth looks relieved at the thought of being spared from casual conversation; he then nods at your question. You sigh and open your desk drawer, procuring the newest autopsy report. You hold it out to him and he takes it with a murmured thanks. The prosecutor’s eyes are locked on the paper as he takes in the new information. You watch him for a few seconds, before taking the opportunity to rub your eyes roughly. You’re rather tired, you have to admit. You should’ve gone home hours ago.

“Detective.” You flinch, opening your eyes to find Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth staring at you with a blank expression. You’re briefly hit with an intense wave of embarrassment at the thought of zoning out in front of the Chief Prosecutor himself. “The commissioner didn’t send you home,” the prosecutor remarks. You think his statement is meant to be a question, despite the fact that his tone doesn’t fluctuate from his typical flat affect.

“Well, he did,” you grimace, remembering his demands for you to return home immediately. He’d be furious with you right now. In fact, the commissioner pulled you aside a few weeks ago to inquire about your “workaholic tendencies.” You meant to take him seriously and even assured him that you’d start to leave work on time instead of staying late. But here you are—sitting in your office late at night with your findings from your after-hours investigation.

“Yet, you’re still here.” Edgeworth remarks with an intent gaze. Somehow, his frown only seems to deepen.

“Yes, well, I… felt like something was missing,” you decide to admit. The prosecutor is trustworthy. Besides, you’re sure he has much better things to do than report you to the commissioner. The notion then reminds you of Dick Gumshoe—particularly, a conversation you had with him the other day about his much-to-be-desired diet of instant noodles. You shake your head in a half-hearted attempt to clear your thoughts. “Here, look at these.” You pull papers from the file on your desk and extend them to him. Edgeworth’s gaze follows your gesture and his eyebrows furrow.

“The suspect’s fingerprints on the corpse,” Edgeworth remarks blankly. “Yes.” His eyebrows furrow. The prosecutor is evidently wondering why you’re pointing that out, considering the evidence is extremely self-explanatory. You take a deep breath.

“Look at the edge here,” you suggest, pointing to the very edge of the photo in question. It’s just barely visible and you watch as Edgeworth squints at the photograph for a long moment. For a second, it looks as if he’s not seeing it. You’re close to pointing the area out again when his eyes widen in realization.

“Powder,” Edgeworth realizes aloud. He crosses his arms over his chest and falls back into his unusually straight posture. His fingers tap against the crook of his arm rhythmically, in what you guess to be a restless gesture. “The prints were transplanted.”

“I believe so.” You nod.

The prosecutor frowns and looks askance. He seems to deliberate for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure…?” You respond, thrown off by the ambiguity of the statement. The prosecutor explains the task he’d like you to perform and you begin to understand. Acting on his orders shouldn’t take too long, hopefully. However, you are in a time crunch—what with the trial being scheduled for tomorrow morning. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth leaves you with a murmured word of gratitude and a quick farewell. You stare at your closed office door for a moment, wondering if you dreamt up that interaction. The handwritten note sitting on your desk—created mere moments ago by Edgeworth—is proof that the prosecutor’s request was all too real. You don’t waste any time after that, immediately walking out of the police department and getting into your car. The Chief Prosecutor’s request isn’t too difficult—you simply need to revisit the crime scene and make sure everything is in order. Then you’ll return home, eat something, take a quick shower, and go to sleep. Everything will be fine. You won’t overwork yourself. You certainly won’t stay at the crime scene late into the night, until the point when you bear witness to the sun rising in the morning sky.

These promises fade into obscurity the moment you reach the crime scene. Your investigative mind turns on and all you can think about are fingerprints, footprints, and murder weapons. You meticulously review each piece of evidence for forensic data, in addition to reviewing the entire scene in your head several times. Your efforts are far from a waste of time, as you manage to tie up some loose ends and even determine that the murder weapon carries multiple sets of prints. Your knees are aching as you bend down towards the ground and survey anything of consequence. Time is entirely inconsequential. All you know is that the flashlight you had needed when you arrived is no longer useful, as hints of the sunrise begin to illuminate the area in a hazy dawn glow.

When your morning alarm goes off as you’re standing at the edge of the crime scene, you’re able to recognize that you may have gotten carried away. Just maybe. You sigh and trudge back to the car, before driving to the courthouse. When you arrive, you’re able to take a quick nap in the car and eat a protein bar you find in the console. Unfortunately, your nap is more than quick—it doesn’t last more than three minutes before you hear a knock on your window. It’s your least favorite defense attorney, Duff Endyu.

“Well, hello, Detective!” Duff remarks as you roll down your window, his cheery smile immediately ruining any of the rest you acquired from your brief rest. “Catching up on some Z’s, are we?” His grin seems to have a mocking edge.

“Yes,” you sigh, unwilling to entertain his attempts at provocation. “Are the doors open?” You look over to the courthouse entrance.

“I believe they are, sport,” he responds, patting a hand on the area where the unopened window rests and pacing towards the building. You take a deep breath and pinch the bride of your nose. It takes you a few moments to cross the parking lot and make it to the doors. Once you do, you find that the waiting room is blissfully empty. You sigh in relief and take a seat on the armchair, crossing a leg at the knee and pinching the bridge of your nose. You want nothing more than to fall asleep, but you know that would be rather unprofessional. Besides, you have a job to do.

You spend your time reviewing the information you gathered throughout your investigation, before preparing your statements and testimony as the detective on the case. You’re typically the first person called to the stand, so that you can explain the case to the judge and shed light on the evidence.

“Detective.” You flinch and look up, only to find Miles Edgeworth staring down at you. You resist the strange urge to get up from your seat and instead greet him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you respond, pretending that you don’t need to blink the traces of exhaustion from your eyes.

“Did you have a chance to do what I asked?”

“Yes, I did,” You’re about to explain when the bailiff interrupts and asks you to go into the courtroom. You send an apologetic smile to the prosecutor, before slipping into the empty courtroom. The judge is the only person in the room, and he seems to be frowning at something on the surface of his bench. When he notices your entrance, he motions for you to come closer.

You’re familiar with this judge and have worked with him several times before. The thought reassures you, as you know you won’t have to sugarcoat your words or pretend to be someone you’re not on the stand. The two of you have formed a surface-level understanding of one another, which makes your job that much easier.

The judge asks you a few questions about your investigation and you answer them to the best of your ability. Eventually, he seems satisfied, because he nods and dismisses you. You never get the chance to speak with Edgeworth and brief him on your findings before the trial, but you know he’ll learn more once you take the stand.

The judge begins the trial with the standard procedure, questioning both the defense and the prosecution before Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth makes his case for the conviction of the defendant. Not for the first time, you find yourself impressed by how succinct and persuasive the man’s argument is. Endme, the attorney for the defendant, seems a bit intimidated. You think you would be too, if you were going up against the chief prosecutor himself.

The judge then calls you to the stand. You explain the crime and describe the crime scene in detail, before Endme, the defense attorney, cross examines you. His cross-examination isn’t super thorough, and you suspect it’s because your claims are all backed up with at least one piece—if not multiple pieces—of evidence. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth seems to have quite the easy time with dismantling the defense’s argument. However, since you never got the chance to brief him before the trial, you’re forced to step in and correct an assumption when you hear it.

“Actually,” you break in, wincing at how everyone’s gazes lock onto you. You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth is right, but… an investigation earlier today revealed that the murder weapon actually contained the prints of the witness, in addition to the defendant.”

Edgeworth’s eyebrows steadily climb up his forehead. You want to feel guilty, but you know you didn’t leave him out of the loop on purpose. In fact, you were about to relay your findings to him when you were swiftly interrupted. Instead, you allow yourself a brief moment of pride. You caused that disbelieving expression on the chief prosecutor’s face. You found that evidence…!

The trial, understandably, is suitably affected by that revelation. You’re soon dismissed from the stand, as Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth calls the witness to the stand. You get the feeling he’s going to absolutely grill them—to see if they play a more active role in this case.

Truthfully, you want to leave the courthouse and go to sleep, but you know you should stay to see how the trial plays out. Thankfully, Edgeworth uses the forensic evidence you found to bolster his argument and, after only about an hour, the courtroom doors swing open and the chief prosecutor appears. His eyes narrow in on you immediately and there’s a frown on his face. You feel any good karma you may have accrued earlier completely dissipate.

“Detective,” Edgeworth says with a sigh. This can’t be good, you think to yourself. “I appreciate your efforts, and the fact that you did what I asked you to do.” He pauses. But…? “However, I do not recall telling you to avoid sleep entirely.” His eyes meet yours and you realize he must’ve noticed your fatigue earlier or the dark circles that currently reside under your own eyes.

“I know,” you acquiesce. The prosecutor nods knowingly, and you suddenly feel the need to defend yourself. “Still. I had a gut feeling there was something missing—and I was right.” Edgeworth sighs loudly. You raise your eyebrows at him knowingly, inviting him to argue with you. Fortunately for you, there’s not much of an outlet for him to argue—since your choice to continue investigating procured decisive evidence for the trial. The prosecutor evidently comes to that realization, because he crosses his arms over his chest and levels you with a furious gaze that spells you silent.

“Come on, Detective,” he remarks. “Unless you’d like the budget cut that Detective Gumshoe is so fond of.” You sigh deeply and follow after the prosecutor. This is the first time he’s threatened to reduce your salary. You certainly hope it will be the last—you’d rather not rewrite your budget for the coming month.

You follow after Edgeworth, who has yet to offer an explanation for why you’re supposed to follow him. The prosecutor paces out of the courtroom and walks through the lines of cars in the parking lot until he reaches a red sports car. Your eyebrows climb up your forehead as you see him unlock it.

“This is your car?” You hear yourself ask.

“You seem surprised,” Edgeworth notes with a tinge of amusement. He opens the door for you, allowing you to enter, before closing it behind you. The prosecutor then walks around the car and gets into the driver’s seat. Edgeworth looks at you expectantly, evidently waiting for elaboration.

“Sorry, you just didn’t seem the type,” you say. You quickly regret uttering the statement aloud after seeing the prosecutor raise an eyebrow; thankfully, he lets the comment slide. Instead, you get into the car and awkwardly stare down at your hands. You feel intensely out of place in this car, sitting next to the Chief Prosecutor himself. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to notice your internal panic, instead beginning to pull out of the courthouse parking lot and drive down the street. “Where are we going?” You eventually find the courage to ask.

“My office,” Edgeworth responds. You feel your heart stall in your chest. He isn’t going to fire you, is he? You’re not sure if he has that power… but you wouldn’t be surprised if he did possess that kind of administrative authority. Your fear must show on your face, because the prosecutor huffs in amusement before turning to look at you for a brief moment. “Lighten up, Detective.” Contrary to your expectations, you aren’t given any more explanation than that. Instead, you’re left to sit silently as Edgeworth

He’s taking you to his office. Oh no. You’re really going to get fired, aren’t you? Your heart races in your chest and you feel your hands twitching at your sides. Edgeworth leads the way to the Prosecutor’s Building, walking through the underground garage before reaching the door and opening it for you. You’ve been to the building before, but you’ve never been to the underground garage—which leaves you feeling a little turned around. You suspect there’s an elevator that will lead to Edgeworth’s office. However, the chief prosecutor walks past it and instead ascends the staircase next to it. You shrug and follow after him. One flight of stairs won’t be too bad.

One flight of stairs passes in the blink of an eye. However, Edgeworth doesn’t exit as you expect—instead he continues climbing up the stairs. Are you going to be taking the stairs all the way up to his office? From what you remember, quite a few of the offices are on the higher floors. You decide to keep quiet and follow his lead.

If only you had known that Edgeworth’s office number was on the twelfth floor . By the time you climb up the last set of stairs and reach the twelfth floor, you want to collapse on the ground and never get up. Edgeworth, on the other hand, isn’t even winded. You manage to catch your breath on the short walk from the staircase to his office, but you know your legs will be sore tomorrow.

You’ve never been in the Chief Prosecutor’s office before. It has more life than you thought it might, with a burgundy couch off to the left side, an ornate wooden desk in the center of the room, and rows of files lining the walls on the right. There’s a small figurine of the Steel Samurai and an award that you recognize to be the Prosecutor Trophy. The space looks like a good mix of professionalism and nonchalance that you think you’d like to emulate in your own office.

Despite your expectations, Edgeworth still doesn't give you an explanation for why you’re here. Instead, he settles into the chair at his desk and opens his computer. He’s quiet as he types on his computer. After a few moments of standing awkwardly, you decide to move and sit on the couch.

You don’t know how long you wait there, anticipating a remark from the chief prosecutor. Unfortunately, now that you’re left here with nothing to do, you feel your energy slipping away. Your exhaustion is beginning to catch up to you. You didn’t get much sleep ( read: any sleep) last night, thanks to your impromptu investigation. Despite your fatigue threatening to knock you out, you know can’t fall asleep in front of the Chief Prosecutor. You have to stay awake.

Surely, there’s something you could be doing right now. Your eyes are stinging from exhaustion and your blinks feel twice as long as normal. You rub your eyes roughly and pay a glance at Edgeworth, who is scrawling something down on a piece of paper.. Just what are you supposed to be doing here? The prosecutor hasn’t spoken since you left the car. Edgeworth isn’t shy about assigning you work to do, so why is he suddenly so silent?

Despite all these recognitions, and the intimate knowledge that it will not look good if you fall asleep, your exhaustion wins out. One moment, you’re staring blankly ahead at the wall of files; the next, your eyes are slipping shut and you’re falling asleep.

Your sleep is remarkably undisturbed, despite being in the company of another person. You occasionally hear the scrawling sound of writing or the pattering sounds of typing, but otherwise, the office is blissfully silent. Your head rests on your hand and you exhale slowly, feeling the day’s stressors slowly slip away.

You don’t intend to sleep for long. But, when you wake up, you find that it’s dark outside. There’s an added warmth that you didn’t have before. Upon further investigation, you find that there’s a familiar burgundy jacket draped over you. Is this… Edgeworth’s jacket? Your eyes widen as the characteristic burgundy color.

Your phone pings, drawing you out of your thoughts. You reach towards it and power it on, only to find that it’s nearly 6 p.m. The trial ended hours ago! You look around for Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth, but he’s nowhere in sight. All you see is the familiar wall of files, the chessboard in the corner of the room, and a mug of tea with a note next to it.

Wait. A mug of tea with a note? You frown and look down at the coffee table, finding a mug of warm tea with steam rising out of it and a handwritten note. The note reads:

Visiting the department. Expect a more strictly enforced schedule in the future. -M. PS: Stay as long as you need.

You smile to yourself.

“Duff Endyu” → “defend you.” lol.

hehehehehehheeeee… I just want to fall asleep in Edgeworth's office and for Edgeworth to look down at me and be filled with an inexplicable burst of fondness. is that really too much to ask?>??

Did “a more strictly enforced schedule” make sense? I was trying to find a characteristic way for Miles to say that your overtime would be prevented (aka that you’ll have to “clock out” and actually leave, instead of staying for hours after).

I just realized Miles’s initials are M.E.. Lollll.

anyway, thanks for reading! <333

TAGLIST: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall

#miles edgeworth #Miles Edgeworth x reader #edgeworth x reader #gn reader #male reader #transmasc reader #Miles Edgeworth x male reader #gay as hell #edgeworth x gn reader #ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney fanfic

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ivy-saurs · 1 month

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Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright

Characters: Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth

Additional Tags: Post-Seven Year Gap (Gyakuten Saiban), Post-Gyakuten Saiban 5 | Dual Destinies, Fluff, Established Relationship, they're husbands your honour

Summary:

Miles Edgeworth just can’t seem to win today. Fortunately, he’s greeted by a familiar face at the airport.

#just leaving this here 🧍‍♂️#narumitsu #wrightworth #ace attorney fanfic

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artsietango · 5 months

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Do you guys like this meme I made? XD I’m busy this weekend so y’all can have the chapter now, as a treat. :3 Enjoy your weekend, and enjoy this chapter!

[Ao3 info under the cut.]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright Characters: Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Itonokogiri Keisuke | Dick Gumshoe, Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma, The Judge (Gyakuten Saiban), Original Characters, Pandora Crane, Yolanthe Lovelace, Weiss Von Stein Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Phoenix Wright, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, tags will be updated as i write more

#ace attorney #ace attorney fanfic #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #wrightworth #narumitsu #narumitsu fanfic #wrightworth fanfic #fanfiction #woe be upon ye meme #vampire au #vampirism #vampirism au #vampire phoenix

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transtrucy · 22 days

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red tape and the pieces of youth

chapter three: emergency exits and the distance below

By the time there’s a knock at Phoenix’s door, Miles has been sent out multiple times for boxes, bags, and pizza. At this point, it would be easier if Phoenix just told him to get lost for the day. Miles had tried to pay for the pizza himself, but Phoenix had stared him down until Miles took the cash. And not without a reminder of how much Miles was doing for Trucy and how Phoenix had to be able to pull his own weight. Miles bought his own food. Phoenix can’t complain about that. (He probably could. The man can complain about anything, and Miles almost wants to see him try. To feel that rush from arguing against him again, as if they’re standing across a courtroom again, as if Phoenix’s badge hasn’t been—)

[continue reading on ao3]

#my fics #red tape #ace attorney #ace attorney fanfic #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #trucy wright #narumitsu #nrmts #nrmt #maya fey #pearl fey #ten years later here i am

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cowabungaits-drshrimppuertorico · 23 days

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Uh, explicit fanfic under the cut.

Summary Of Fic: Phoenix and Miles are pretty kinky while in the bedroom, and they have a safeword because of this.

Chapter Summary: Miles ties Phoenix up and fucks him like there's no tomorrow. Phoenix is very, very ok with this until he isn't.

So basically the idea for this fic is them using their safeword in the bedroom when they feel uncomfortable. I hardly ever see any fics of them using their safeword when they are having hardcore sex. I know that that's because nobody's reading fanfiction smut for fluffy safeword usage but I wanted to write a fic like that because we need more safeword usage in fanfiction when it involves sex yk?

#Ace attorney #Ace attorney fanfiction #Ace attorney fanfic #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #narumitsu #wrightworth #worthwright #edgewright #mitsunaru #aa

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nemaliwrites · 3 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ayasato Chihiro | Mia Fey & Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey & Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando, Ayame | Iris & Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey Characters: Ayasato Harumi | Pearl Fey, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Ayasato Chihiro | Mia Fey, Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando, Ayame | Iris (Gyakuten Saiban) Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Post-Case 3-5: Bridge to the Turnabout, POV Pearl Fey, Minor Diego Armando/Mia Fey, Family Dynamics, Complicated Relationships, Family Fluff, Found Family, Morgan Fey's Bad Parenting, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Coping by Seeking Relationship With Someone Who Directly or Indirectly Caused Your Trauma, Sister-Sister Relationship Summary:

In the days after her mother’s arrest, Pearl thinks a lot about respect, family, and Mia Fey.

Or, five times Pearl learns about Mia from other people, and one time she talks to her directly.

#ace attorney #ace attorney fanfiction #ace attorney fanfic #aa fanfic #pearl fey #mia fey #maya fey #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #diego armando #aa godot #sister iris #my fics #okay i DID IT and it's not on anon #i am...literally dropping this here and sprinting away goodbye

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theredcuyo · 3 months

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For the sumpie little things that happen while i write a fanfiction based on AA i decided to headcanon that Miles was the prosecutor who went against Dahlia after she was accused

And while he read the acusations, a familiar name made him annoyed

A familiar name, that sound just like the one from an old memory

A familiar name in the list of victims

And he feared the worst, until he kept reading and the fear was replaced by anger

And for some reason, the whole trial he felt like he had to make SURE she got her punishment

#ace attorney fanfic #ace attorney #aa #miles edgeworth #dahlia hawthorne #phoenix wright #implied wrightworth #wrigthworth #narumitsu #headcanon #aatat #just me wishin bratworth had a little bit of that man moments #ya think phoenix ever found out #cuz if he did he mightve had confusing feelings

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manias-wordcount · 2 months

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Something Worth It (Dick Gumshoe x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛 (𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗽). 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗶𝗺 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗳𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗻𝗼 𝗕𝗝 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲- 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It’s getting a little on the later side of the day. The sun has already set. And the nightly new cycle has already started to show repeats of the highlights from earlier today. You had been waiting for him to come home all day. Wasting time. Killing time. Waiting on time. And yet, funnily enough, you don’t even hear the door opening.

Oh, but you feel it.

You feel it when he comes sliding up behind you. You’re gasping and nearly jumping back as you react to his touch. But that doesn’t slow him down. That doesn’t stop him from stepping in all nice and close to you. Pressing his chest to your back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Squeezing once. Squeezing twice with a heavy sigh. If you had any thoughts of this being someone other than your husband- they were dashed in a second. You know your man too well. Just like he knows you too well.

“Dick! I thought you were coming home later!” You exclaim, unable to keep the smile off your face. Even for the light scolding you were about to give him. “I was supposed to still have more time!”

At that, your husband chuckles- the beginnings of a growing five o’clock shadow tickling your face. His laughter comes out as a low, warm sound right by your ear. Something pleasant. Something that makes you shiver. Something that makes you just want to turn around and wrap your arms around him properly. Squeeze him as nice and tight as he’s holding you. But unfortunately for the both of you, your hands are a little full.

“Missed you too much,” He murmurs in response. His hands place themselves on your hips, letting you have a little more room to work and breathe. Still, he clings to you like it’s nothing. Like he’s white on rice. His fingers draw shapes into your body overtop of your apron as his lips start to press behind your ear and on your jaw. Loud, yet soft, needy kisses. Here, there, wherever you let him in this moment. As if he didn’t kiss you goodbye on his way out from work this morning. As if the last time he saw you was many, many, many mornings ago. But as sweet as it is, all of it serves as a distraction. A big one. One that you know he’s aware of- especially after you feel his smile widen against your skin after a frustrated huff passes through your lips. “Whatcha making?”

You turn your eyes towards him. And the curious look on your husband’s face trying to peer over your shoulder without toppling with his big frame is a bit of a funny sight- even if it’s the same thing you’ve been seeing for the past couple of years. But you suppose there’s no point in hiding it. He’ll find out eventually if he keeps lurking around and hanging off of you. Whether it’s through his nose or his eyes, at some point, he’s gonna ruin his own surprise. Well, ruin it more than he already did. He was supposed to come home much later- after you were done cooking- then he did, after all.

“Frying up some steaks,” You tell him, and it’s nearly impossible to hide your giggles as you watch the expression on his face morph from surprise to complete joy and excitement. You flip the current steak you have in the pan to show it off to him. It side that’s just been flipped up is now a beautiful brown color- a little bit of charring but nice and thick and juicy. Just like he likes it. And while the strip steak in your pan is just one of many, but you swear, the look on his face made you think that this was the only steak left in existence. Some guys say more with their eyes and their stomachs than their mouths, huh? “Thought you might need some after the day you had.”

At the slight mention of work, his face falls. Just a little bit, but it’d be impossible not to tell.

“Oh…you heard about all that?” He mumbles absently. You nodded solemnly but didn’t say anything more. You know things down at the station haven’t been going too good. The news has been covering the current homicide case that he’s been working on quite a bit and the pressure put on him and the other members of his force seems astronomical. Especially now that it’s come out that the culprit is someone Dick has worked with in the past and trusts with all his heart and soul…

But you don’t want to talk about his work. You don’t want him to think about it anymore. At least for the night. Because you know in the morning, he’ll be waking up earlier than you and kissing your goodbye before your alarm goes off to get you up for your own job. In the morning, it’ll be back to work- back to paperwork and fieldwork and meetings for him. But for the night?

Tonight is just for good food and sweet kisses.

“Go wash up sweetie,” You tell him gently, before turning your head and placing a kiss on his cheek. Instantly, he’s blushing and looking a little more like the young, bright-eyed boy you were always crushing on rather than the hardworking, handsome man you fell in love with. But you suppose, with him, it’s always going to be the little things that you love most of all. The morning kisses. Cooking each other favorites. Holding each other tight and never letting go. It’s always going to be the little things. “Dinner will be done before you know it.”

And because it’s the little things- you don’t even grumble or complain when Dick starts making a fuss about you putting him out. You just call him sweaty and tell him he smells like whatever lake he’s been poking around in. But you do it all with a laugh in and a smile, even long after he’s disappeared down the hall and out of your view. Because not every day is promised in his line of work. Not every night he’s gonna come home early and ruin his own surprise.

So that’s why everything has got to be seen as special. So, so special. After all, you still have him. And he still has you. And you’d like to think that’s something worth fighting crime for. Something worth coming home to. Something worth staying alive for.

Something worth it- for both him and you.

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