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longdeadking · 23 days

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Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor, and a good one. There weren't rankings of employment in the Japanifornia District Prosecutors' Office, exactly, but it was an open secret amongst its employees that Chief Prosecutor Skye entrusted him with the most tangled, convoluted, and high-profile cases they were given. He considered it an honor, and wore the title of "Demon Prosecutor" like a crown. He refused to let the whispers in the break room get to him — the ones rumoring salacious interactions with the Chief Prosecutor, or sums of money paid to her, or forged evidence and lies in court that gave his defendants harsher punishments than they otherwise would have received. He knew they weren't true, and so it was immature to let them bother him. He would not be immature. After all, despite his requests for a name change being shot down each time, he was a von Karma, and von Karmas were perfect.

Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor, and he hated criminals. He considered them practically subhuman, and he could not find it in himself to regard them with any amount of sympathy — although, he would concede, he'd never tried very hard to. Those who broke the law were, in his eyes, incapable of being redeemed. The only recourse of justice was punishment, equalling exactly the severity of the crime committed, and no less. It was Miles' job as a prosecutor to ensure that justice was served. He could not falter, and did not; every defendant he faced was declared guilty. No defense attorney could compete with him. He was placed in a homeschooling program by his mentor and guardian, and graduated law school at only twenty. That feat alone, even without the supporting evidence of his spotless five-year record, would be enough to declare him a genius and a prodigy, but evidence was everything in court, so Miles didn't feel too badly about bringing up said record whenever he was challenged on his capability.

Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor with a spotless record, his superior's trust, and a moral rage at criminals that could not be argued against. He was perfect, unflappable, unbeatable.

Except for, apparently, when his superior handed him a case file with an apologetic smile and an explanation that while no formal charges had been made, she was going to want him prosecuting once they had been, so she wanted to give him the file now. A case file that, when opened, revealed not a mugshot or frame from a security camera, but what was very clearly a cropped Instagram post, a selfie, showing a figure clad in a garish blue-and-red bodysuit that covered every inch of their body, including their face. The figure was, as best as Miles could tell, using the hand not holding out the phone to cling to a pipe on the side of a building, at minimum twelve stories in the air. Miles studied the photo for some time, but he could not figure out how the offending figure had gotten up there. Eventually, he gave up and resigned himself to scanning the rest of the cover page.

The words typed in wide font just below the baffling photo were not a name. They were, however, words that Miles recognized. Working in the legal spheres of Japanifornia, he would have had to have been astoundingly oblivious not to.

The words, the terrible words, the words that would eventually lead to the total destruction of the life Miles had created for himself, were as follows:

The Amazing Spider-Man.

Miles felt his eye twitch. This was going to be a truly awful case.

For how little sleep he'd gotten, Phoenix Wright was feeling pretty good as he rolled out of bed. His arms were sore in the satisfying way they always were after a night on the streets, and his sheets were barely creased, since apparently he'd slept like a brick.

He ran a hand through his hair as he hobbled to the bathroom, pushing back the flattened strands until he achieved something close to his usual spikes, although this time it was sweat and grease making them so spiky, instead of gel. He really needed to shower. The Chief would scowl at him for rolling in late again, but she couldn't really scold him. After all, he wasn't exactly some entitled slacker stumbling in hungover after too many shots at the local gentrification-chic rooftop bar.

No, Phoenix Wright was no stuck-up jerk. He was goddamn Spider-Man, and Mia knew it. So she couldn't say shit about him being late.

The hot shower was bliss on his sore shoulders, and after a leisurely half-hour in the bathroom, he looked professional to head to the office.

During the day, Phoenix worked at Fey and Co. Law Offices as a secretary and paralegal to Mia Fey, criminal defense attorney. The office was cozy and low-profile, but it didn't need to be flashy. Anybody in real trouble knew Mia's name. When Phoenix first got the offer to work for her, he'd been so starstruck he nearly forgot to respond to the email. Thankfully, he remembered eventually, and now he was working comfortably under his brilliant mentor and friend, offering his perspective as an — ahem — professional to cases that smelled fishy. He wasn't in the courtroom much, but he didn't mind. He got enough attention from the public from his side job, thanks.

Today, Mia was already settled behind her desk when Phoenix walked in with a call of, "Sorry I'm late, Chief! Busy night, you know how it is."

"Phoenix…" Mia sighed. "I hope you slept well. I've got a new client I want you to look at."

Phoenix dropped his bag at his desk and meandered over to Mia, who had a file open in front of her and a few tabs up on her laptop. She pushed the paper file towards him first.

"I got a call from a friend at the PD. He said our client was asking for you, specifically, which was my first hint that this was an odd one." Mia clicked around on her laptop a bit, finally opening her email and refreshing the page a couple of times. Apparently, she was waiting for something.

Phoenix hummed. "Like, me me, or…"

"Yes, you you, Phoenix Wright, my assistant," Mia said. "I'm pretty sure my friend doesn't know about not-you. As in, he doesn't know it's you, not that he doesn't know you. Everybody knows you."

"You used you a lot in that sentence," Phoenix pointed out.

"Hush, you. Read the case."

"On it, boss," Phoenix said, giving Mia a two-finger salute.

He didn't have to read far before it shocked him.

"Larry Butz? What's he in for?"

Mia sighed and rubbed her temples. Usually, Phoenix could sort of forget that Mia had years of experience over him, but in this moment, it seemed like all those years hit her all at once. She had those moments sometimes. "Murder. What else?" she said.

Phoenix's eyebrows, already reaching an impressive altitude, climbed even higher. "Well, he's not guilty."

"You sound pretty certain," Mia said.

Phoenix shrugged. "Yeah, well, I know him. He's a ditz, not a killer. Who's the victim?"

"Maybe if you read the case file, you'd find out," Mia said, turning back to her laptop with a tiny frown. It was the most negative expression Phoenix had ever seen her make.

So Phoenix did read the case file. Well, kind of. He tried to, for sure. He was just a little, distracted.

See, there weren't many people in the world Phoenix was close to, and even fewer that knew about his secret identity. In fact, there were only two.

Mia Fey, his mentor, who didn't get told so much as she found out, after lining up Phoenix's late nights fighting crime with his late, sore, tired mornings on the job;

And Larry Butz, his best friend since grade school, who didn't get told so much as he was there for it, when Phoenix got bit by that spider while doing some light trespassing, and then when his superpowers spontaneously developed at the sleepover that night.

Larry was kind of an idiot, and he fell in love too fast for his own good, but he was kind, in his own way, and what he lacked in academic skill he made up for with his artistic talent. He could pick up any medium and his sense of aesthetic was unmatched, although you wouldn't guess it from looking at him. He was the one who inspired Phoenix to chase his dreams of becoming an actor. Although these days, Phoenix found himself regretting his decision to pass up pre-law. Still, Larry was reliable and a genius in his craft.

He was the one who made Phoenix's suits, actually. From the ground up, design to finished product. He never let Phoenix pay him, insisting that he was only helping out his "best bro." Phoenix never really pushed that hard, considering free was a whole lot better than whatever he'd be paying some tailor, factoring in the hush money. Phoenix was endlessly grateful for Larry's ability to keep secrets and his generosity. Not that he'd ever tell him, obviously. If the Butz got a big head it would be a disaster.

Mia's voice pulled Phoenix out of his reminiscing. "Are you alright, Wright?"

"Right as rain," Phoenix said automatically. It was a terrible joke he'd made the first time they met, and Mia liked it so much that it stuck. "Did you say something?"

"Just that the police are through with him, so if you'd like, we can go down to the detention center and interview Mr. Butz now," Mia said.

Phoenix nodded, scooping up the case file and grabbing his bag. Mia joined him and the pair walked out together into the streets towards the detention center.

"Was that what you were waiting for?" Phoenix asked.

Mia blinked. "What?"

"You kept refreshing your email. I was wondering if you were waiting for the go-ahead from the police."

"Oh, no, that was something else."

Phoenix nodded, but Mia didn't say any more. "Cool," he said lamely. "So. Larry. Why do they think he did it?"

"No idea, I'm afraid." The far-away look in Mia's eyes vanished as conversation came back around to the case. "I tried asking the detective in charge of investigations, but he's harder to talk circles around on the phone. I hope he'll still be at the detention center when we get there."

"Chief!" Phoenix put a hand to his heart, pretending to be shocked. "Conspiring against the upstanding members of the police force to get information? How could you do such a terrible thing?"

"Sure, because your method of justice is so legally squeaky-clean," Mia scoffed.

"Hey, I'm not a lawyer, I don't have to follow laws."

"You know that isn't true."

"Besides, if I ever get arrested, I know a top-notch attorney that'll defend me." Phoenix nudged Mia with his elbow.

"Oh, really? And who would that be? Because I know I'd be on the witness stand, hand in hand with Winston Payne to take you down, Terror of Japanifornia."

"Winston Payne! Chief, you wound me."

Mia shook her head. "I can tell you majored in theater. We're here."

The detention center was an ominous-looking gray concrete box attached to the police department. Walking past it always gave Phoenix the creeps. Something about the barred windows and blocky architecture made it feel like you were the one in prison, or at the very least, you deserved to be.

Or maybe that was because most of the times Phoenix was near the police department, he was technically doing crime.

Still, Larry was waiting for him inside, so he followed dutifully after Mia through the front office and into the visitor's room.

Larry was already there when they walked in, and it looked like he'd been crying. His hair was a wreck, and not in his usual way. He was slumped over the little table like a drunk at closing time, and when he looked up at Phoenix, his bottom lip actually trembled.

"Nick! Come on, I didn't do it! I'm too soft for prison, man! I'm too young to die!" Larry wailed.

Phoenix resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. "You're not going to prison, Larry. Unless you did kill somebody."

"I would never!" Larry, to Phoenix's shock and horror, started sobbing again, fat tears tracing well-worn tracks down his face. "How could you! I loved her, man, I wouldn't ever kill her!"

"So the victim, Ms. Stone, she was-" Mia jumped in to save Phoenix.

"She was my girl, yeah," Larry said, sobs vanishing completely as he stared wistfully into the middle distance, no doubt recalling fond memories of whoever this girl was. "She was a bombshell. Almost as pretty as you." He smiled what Phoenix was sure he thought was a winning smile at Mia.

"Thank you, Mr. Butz. I'm sure this is hard for you to talk about, but we really need all the information we can get," Mia powered on.

Larry, though, looked confused. "Uh, who's 'we?' I asked for Nick to defend me, miss, no offense."

"I'm not a real lawyer," Phoenix explained. "This is Mia Fey, my boss. She's the actual lawyer. She's good, too. A genius. And just a good person. But anyway, she's taking on your defense. I might hang around behind the bench, but I'm not allowed to do much."

"But you said you worked for a law company! You're a liar!" Larry was crying again.

"I said I was a secretary."

"Mr. Butz. Please. Could I ask you some questions about what happened on the afternoon of Ms. Stone's murder?" Mia looked tired already. Phoenix felt a little bad about making her deal with Larry like this.

Larry, though, sobered up a little bit at Mia's words. She had that effect on people, Phoenix guessed. Her energy was just so down-to-earth that everyone around her couldn't help but stay grounded too.

"Sure. Whatever you need!"

Mia nodded. "First, about the murder weapon, the statue of The Thinker…"

Miles was going to pop a blood vessel, probably. Or have a stroke. Or some other deadly stress-related injury.

The case file on The Amazing Spider-Man was, in a word, unbalanced. While the records of their many crimes were plentiful and well-recorded, and there were so many photos that they had to be stored digitally instead of kept on paper with everything else, the most they had in terms of clues towards their identity were that they appeared to have a male build and voice, and that they tended to only appear within the city. Attempts to track them had been proven useless at best and actively misleading at worst. No cops had ever apprehended them at the scene, even though they usually stayed to watch over the thugs they'd beaten up to ensure they didn't "get away." Audio recordings of their voice did exist and were on file, but they were always quite far away, and there was no guarantee that their suit didn't contain some kind of voice changer, or that they weren't simply affecting their voice naturally.

In short, the police had a perfect criminal profile for Spider-Man, but they didn't have a single lead on their actual identity.

And Miles was supposed to assist them, somehow.

Chief Prosecutor Skye hadn't said those words exactly, but Miles knew from working under her for some time that when she wanted him to "keep an eye on" a case, it really meant babysitting the paper file and staying in contact with Detective Gumshoe. He liked Gumshoe fine, when he wasn't misplacing evidence, or overlooking evidence, or giving evidence to the defense. Unfortunately, Gumshoe was essentially always doing one of those three things, which made it very hard to work with him for long period of time. At least the detective had the good sense to know when Miles was right — that was, of course, always.

Miles had since closed the Spider-Man file and dropped it into a desk drawer. He didn't want to look at it too closely, lest his heart rate rise to dangerous levels. At the moment, he was waiting for a meeting with his mentor. It was nearly thirty minutes before he was due to arrive, but he had a habit of coming early on occasion in order to make sure that his wards were perfect always , not just when he was nearby. So Miles had spent the last hour cleaning his office until it was spotless, and all the time since then sitting with perfect posture at his desk.

As he predicted, Manfred von Karma knocked on his door exactly twelve minutes before their scheduled meeting time.

"Come in," Miles said, although he really didn't need to. Manfred had the keys to his office, and even if he didn't, Miles would never be so arrogant as to lock his office when expecting a visit from his great mentor.

"Miles Edgeworth," he greeted, standing in front of Miles' desk to force Miles to look up at him. If he were anyone else, Miles would stand so they were eye-to-eye, but he would never dare do something so disrespectful to his mentor.

"I presume Lana Skye has given you the case regarding the so-called vigilante that terrorizes this city," Manfred sneered. "I do not agree with her decision to give such a trivial case to you. You will not expend any energy on such a useless task. You will focus only on your current case, as I do. My single-minded focus is what makes me so perfect. You would do well to emulate it."

"Yes, sir," Miles nodded, voice small.

"This vigilante is pathetic, like all criminals. He is nothing but a violent thug, seeking out fights in order to feel like he is worth any more than the dirt which he likely eats instead of food." Manfred's words were directed at Spider-Man, without question, but staring at him with his face twisted into an expression of deep, well-practiced disgust, Miles couldn't help but feel like he was the one being insulted.

If anyone else were saying this, Miles would correct their language, explain that despite their name, there was no way of truly knowing if Spider-Man was male, but Manfred would hear none of it anyway, so Miles didn't bother. It would hardly be worth the pain it would cause.

"Your current case is your only priority. It must be perfect, because all von Karmas are perfect. I will accept nothing less, Miles Edgeworth."

"Yes, sir."

And with that, Manfred strode out of Miles' office, shutting the door behind him.

The tension bled out of Miles' body like someone cut his spinal cord. He slumped into his chair, suddenly exhausted to the point of tears, though he had no idea where this inexplicable fatigue had come from. The Spider-Man file burned a hole in his psyche, but he did not look at it again.

He would be a fool to disobey direct orders from Manfred von Karma.

ao3 link

#the kings decrees #ace attorney #phoenix wright trilogy #miles edgeworth #mia fey #larry butz #ace attorney fanfiction #thats right baby its a SPIDERMAN AU #basically a rewrite of the original pw trilogy but if phoenix was a spider themed superhero instead of a defense attorney #itll be narumitsu eventually because i adhere to canon. but none yet bc they dont meet this chapter </3 #phoenix wright

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