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1sentence unofficial claim: Phoenix Wright series: Edgeworth/Phoe
Title: Rising Above the Intended
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Genre: Romance with a few flavourings of angst.
Rating: G to PG-13
Themeset:1sentence, Beta.
Words: 2276 for all fifty sentences.
Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright.
Summary: Fifty small snapshots of the lives of a defence attorney and a prosecutor.
Spoilers? To the end of Justice For All.
Author's Notes: These were surprisingly hard to write. Phoenix Wright is the first fandom in years for which I've read copious amounts of fanfic, and so I had to work very hard to keep to my own interpretations of the pair. In particular, I've been influenced by the writings of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rallalon, croik, and dante_a1ighieri, so, uh, if I didn't totally succeed in keeping true to my own interpretations, that's where the added stuff came from.
Not all of these are completely focused on Phoenix and Edgeworth, by the way--there are mentions of Maya, Larry, Gumshoe, and Pearls, as well. It may not be a hundred percent kosher, but I think the themes are more interesting that way.
Walking
Edgeworth's stride was a little different nowadays, Phoenix mused; while it was no less brisk and efficient, the prosecutor no longer moved so tensely that Phoenix half expected him to shatter when someone brushed against him in a crowd.
Waltz
It was a bad habit of Wright's, waltzing into his office while he was trying to get work done, a habit he presumably had picked up from that assistant of his—although Edgeworth privately decided he wouldn't be breaking Wright of it anytime soon.
Wishes
“Make a wish, Mr. Edgeworth!” Maya urged him; Edgeworth just shook his head and blew out the candles (feeling six years old again), really preferring to just get a start on the cake Wright had baked for him and get this whole birthday foolishness over with.
Wonder
The look on Wright's face as the two separated, breathless, made Edgeworth wonder why he hadn't done this sooner.
Worry
In those days after Edgeworth's return, Phoenix made certain to keep an eye on the prosecutor; he knew Edgeworth would deride him for fretting so much if he found out, but Phoenix couldn't shake the feeling that if he looked away for too long, the man would melt away again like morning fog—this time, forever.
Whimsy
Phoenix couldn't say why he stopped in a toy store on his way home to Edgeworth's place, but the look on the other man's face when presented with an Evil Magistrate action figure was well worth the cost of the impulse buy.
Waste/Wasteland
Edgeworth was spare with his words, in court and particularly out of it, not given to speaking about frivolous topics; Phoenix assumed he was bothered by the waste, but wished he was just a little better at ordinary conversation.
Whiskey and rum
Edgeworth preferred a glass of wine above every other kind of alcohol, and while Phoenix agreed that wine was well enough in its way (particularly when shared with a certain tired prosecutor at the end of a long day), there were times when a man wanted something with just a little more kick.
War
While it always felt like World War III in the courtroom, no truce was ever sweeter than theirs.
Weddings
Whenever either of them were invited to a wedding nowadays, Edgeworth always got a meditative look on his face, something that filled Phoenix with both painful hope and fear.
Birthday
His twenty-sixth birthday was accompanied with a surprise party, and no matter what his lover might say, that irksome grin of Wright's told him quite clearly it wasn't entirely Butz, Gumshoe, and Maya's fault.
Blessing
Meeting Wright's parents had been a thoroughly odd experience, and though they had been puzzled by the fact that their son and his lover called each other by their respective last names, Edgeworth thought they approved of him anyway.
Bias
Looking back at his opinions on prosecutors in the days he thought Edgeworth was dead, Phoenix was embarrassed; he didn't want Edgeworth to find out what his feelings had been at the time and hoped Pearls or Maya wouldn't bring up the subject at an inopportune moment.
Burning
Phoenix, his ears burning from a murmured suggestion from his lover, thought that he never would have guessed that Edgeworth could even imagine such things back when they had first met again as prosecutor and defence attorney—let alone do them, and do them well.
Breathing
He always knew whenever Edgeworth was having one of his nightmares: his breathing would speed up and his body would tighten; Phoenix pulled him close whenever he noticed and would pretend to be sleeping once Edgeworth was finally released from his torment, saving the other man's pride.
Breaking
Phoenix knew he was just a little overprotective of Edgeworth nowadays, but he couldn't help himself—Edgeworth had been pushed to the breaking point once before . . . who was to say it couldn't or wouldn't happen again?
Belief
Wright always believed from the bottom of his heart that his clients were innocent, even despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary—it was something Edgeworth simply couldn't fathom, no matter how often he put his mind to the task.
Balloon
The confetti, they tolerated, and the cheering was all right, too, but when Gumshoe started releasing helium balloons at the end of a successful trial, that was when they mutually decided that enough was enough.
Balcony
Juliet's desperate cry to Romeo had been recited to death (and possibly beyond), but somehow, Wright was able to read it to him as though it were the first time those words had been spoken.
Bane
It was odd, Edgeworth mused, how one man could be both the bane of his existence and the most important part of his life—sometimes simultaneously.
Quiet
It was nice, Phoenix thought, being able to come home to Edgeworth's place after shouting himself hoarse in the courtroom and just sitting with him on the couch, breaking the stillness only with a turn of a page or, in Edgeworth's case, a quiet sip of tea.
Quirks
Edgeworth had many quirks born from being raised by von Karma for so many years, but one by one, the more harmful ones were beginning to fade away—Phoenix made sure of that.
Question
“Would the defence care to back up its outlandish claims?” Edgeworth asked with a smirk, and Phoenix couldn't figure out why that expression made him feel far too warm.
Quarrel
From time to time, they fought, and when they did, it was impressive, both men using every courtroom tactic they had at their disposal; though Phoenix could often turn things around in the courtroom, it wasn't always the case in his personal life.
Quitting
Wright never gave up, even when things looked hopeless—it wasn't just limited to the courtroom, either; his persistence was yet another facet of his personality that Edgeworth didn't quite understand.
Jump
Edgeworth's hand on his shoulder startled Phoenix—since when had the man ever initiated physical contact? —but it was the expression on his face that surprised him the most.
Jester
It was strange that the three of them were back together again after all this time, Phoenix thought, and stranger still that their roles hadn't changed—Edgeworth was still the stick-in-the-mud, he himself was the go-along guy, and Larry . . . good old Larry was still the spazzy goof-off.
Jousting
Back and forth he and Wright went when they faced off, prosecutor and defence attorney, until his entire world was one man, one man and his impassioned words, his open body language, his expressive face that showed every thought that crossed his mind; Wright, who was his antithesis in that regard and all others.
Jewel
Two coats, one sapphire, the other garnet, lay tangled together on the end of the bed, mirroring their former occupants.
Just
The truth was everything to him now, and Edgeworth now looked on his days of caring for only a guilty verdict with a feeling of shame; his one comfort was that he had begun to atone for his indifference to the truth by also showing Wright its importance.
Smirk
Edgeworth delivered his correction with a supercilious look, soon to be changed into an expression that was something else entirely as Phoenix yanked Edgeworth to him and kissed his smirking, infuriating, sexy mouth.
Sorrow
A suicide note, but no body; it didn't matter—Edgeworth was gone, and in Phoenix's eyes, the man he had known, his old friend and new rival and the man he had begun to respect was dead, and it was easier to grieve than to keep the wounds open, to kill all hope than to have it flash and fade every time he took the stand to see who his opponent in court would be, every time a red sports car drove by, every time he found himself outside Edgeworth's house (it was only coincidence he turned up in that spot every week in the first few months, and then less and less as it grew closer to the anniversary of his death) . . . and so, Edgeworth was dead—it didn't have to be a physical death for it to be the truth.
Stupidity
Phoenix was smart, good at thinking on his feet, but somehow, with that smirk on his face that Phoenix both loved and hated as the other man presented the detail that would unravel his desperately built-up defence, Edgeworth always managed to make him feel like an absolute dunce.
Serenade
An aria from some opera or another playing in the background, Phoenix let out a contented breath, his eyes closed; he couldn't think of a better way to finish up an evening than to be lying with his head in Edgeworth's lap as the other man, wearing his new reading glasses, finished one last readthrough of the details of an upcoming case.
Sarcasm
It was a favourite trick of Phoenix's, voicing the sarcasm often in his thoughts but rarely spoken aloud; it never failed to momentarily throw Edgeworth.
Sordid
Wright was clearly upset by the case he had taken—Edgeworth had to admit it was a distasteful affair—but he was still pressing forward; Edgeworth, in one of his newly-learned tricks of human interaction, let him come home every evening and simply vent about it, biting his tongue when he felt the urge to make what would inevitably be an unhelpful comment.
Soliloquy
Wright had been planning on becoming a Shakespearean actor, of all things, before he turned to law, but his love of the playwright had never died—which was why Edgeworth had set aside his work for the third day in a row to come and watch Wright as he performed, with an intense passion that made all the other actors seem as though they were merely reading their lines, in an amateur production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Sojourn
He had traveled anywhere and everywhere, all over the world and nowhere in particular, trying to find out what it was, this creature known as a “prosecutor,” but no matter where he moved—not ran, not ran—he could never entirely stop thinking about the man who had shaken him in a way to which he had thought himself impervious, the man he had actually begun . . . to trust.
Share
It was ridiculous and soppy, and if anyone had claimed to see him at it, he would have denied it with a cold stare; yet all the same, it was true—Miles Edgeworth did, in fact, enjoy sharing an umbrella with his lover on a rainy day.
Solitary
Edgeworth had liked being alone, preferring his own company above all others, but lately, that had been changing—he had begun to see the attraction of spending time with at least one certain other person.
Nowhere
“I wasn't anywhere in particular—sorry for being so late,” Phoenix apologised to a huffy Maya, pulling the collar of his turtleneck a little higher and feeling himself flush faintly.
Neutral
It wasn't in their natures not to take a side—their very livelihoods forced them to do so every day—but on some topics, such as the merits of The Steel Samurai versus those of Pink Princess, in the face of an enthusiastic Maya, Phoenix and Edgeworth were quite happy to remain neutral.
Nuance
That was the frustrating thing about Edgeworth—everything he did was subtle, from tone of voice to one of the many ways in which he chose to avoid meeting another's gaze, and it had taken Phoenix months to learn to read him properly even one time in two.
Near
Even though Phoenix's apartment was in biking-distance and Edgeworth's place was a longer bus ride away, Phoenix found himself leaving his bike at the office most days and going to Edgeworth's; proximity wasn't everything, after all.
Natural
Defence attorneys and prosecutors were natural enemies, it was true, but there was something to be said for rising above the intended.
Horizon
Edgeworth wasn't exactly certain why he was doing this, but Wright had insisted, and so he had given in, meaning that he was spending the first morning of the new year waiting for the sun's curve to show itself above the horizon; for Edgeworth (and, he had the distinct feeling, for Wright as well), the attraction wasn't in straining to see the first touches of pastel colour in the sky, but in spending an hour simply sitting, arms around one another, together in a comfortable silence.
Valiant
“Your conjectures are a waste of air if you can't back them up with decisive evidence,” Edgeworth told Wright, and though it was a valiant effort, he knew it was useless—Wright had that too-confident grin on his face that he was starting to recognise spelled the beginning of the end for him, and though it was infuriating, a small part of Edgeworth enjoyed that expression, liked it when Wright looked that way; he simply couldn't understand why.
Virtuous
Wright could have been a virtuous prig, but he wasn't—it was the honesty and openness of his belief in his clients' innocence that kept him from being irritating (at least, in that regard) and made him instead . . . almost inspiring, even if he was still struggling with the truth.
Victory
Another victory, in what was to be one of his last cases against Edgeworth (the prosecutor would soon change districts to prevent conflict of interest); Phoenix grinned at Edgeworth across the room as the judge's gavel came down for the last time, and the look Edgeworth gave him in return promised retribution later that night—Phoenix could hardly wait.
Defeat
Defeated again; he couldn't understand how Wright kept doing that when no other defence attorney could—and as Wright gave him a cocky look from the other side of the courtroom, Edgeworth decided he would do his utmost to remove that expression from his face when they got home that evening.
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Genre: Romance with a few flavourings of angst.
Rating: G to PG-13
Themeset:
1sentence, Beta.Words: 2276 for all fifty sentences.
Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright.
Summary: Fifty small snapshots of the lives of a defence attorney and a prosecutor.
Spoilers? To the end of Justice For All.
Author's Notes: These were surprisingly hard to write. Phoenix Wright is the first fandom in years for which I've read copious amounts of fanfic, and so I had to work very hard to keep to my own interpretations of the pair. In particular, I've been influenced by the writings of
rallalon, croik, and dante_a1ighieri, so, uh, if I didn't totally succeed in keeping true to my own interpretations, that's where the added stuff came from.Not all of these are completely focused on Phoenix and Edgeworth, by the way--there are mentions of Maya, Larry, Gumshoe, and Pearls, as well. It may not be a hundred percent kosher, but I think the themes are more interesting that way.
Walking
Edgeworth's stride was a little different nowadays, Phoenix mused; while it was no less brisk and efficient, the prosecutor no longer moved so tensely that Phoenix half expected him to shatter when someone brushed against him in a crowd.
Waltz
It was a bad habit of Wright's, waltzing into his office while he was trying to get work done, a habit he presumably had picked up from that assistant of his—although Edgeworth privately decided he wouldn't be breaking Wright of it anytime soon.
Wishes
“Make a wish, Mr. Edgeworth!” Maya urged him; Edgeworth just shook his head and blew out the candles (feeling six years old again), really preferring to just get a start on the cake Wright had baked for him and get this whole birthday foolishness over with.
Wonder
The look on Wright's face as the two separated, breathless, made Edgeworth wonder why he hadn't done this sooner.
Worry
In those days after Edgeworth's return, Phoenix made certain to keep an eye on the prosecutor; he knew Edgeworth would deride him for fretting so much if he found out, but Phoenix couldn't shake the feeling that if he looked away for too long, the man would melt away again like morning fog—this time, forever.
Whimsy
Phoenix couldn't say why he stopped in a toy store on his way home to Edgeworth's place, but the look on the other man's face when presented with an Evil Magistrate action figure was well worth the cost of the impulse buy.
Waste/Wasteland
Edgeworth was spare with his words, in court and particularly out of it, not given to speaking about frivolous topics; Phoenix assumed he was bothered by the waste, but wished he was just a little better at ordinary conversation.
Whiskey and rum
Edgeworth preferred a glass of wine above every other kind of alcohol, and while Phoenix agreed that wine was well enough in its way (particularly when shared with a certain tired prosecutor at the end of a long day), there were times when a man wanted something with just a little more kick.
War
While it always felt like World War III in the courtroom, no truce was ever sweeter than theirs.
Weddings
Whenever either of them were invited to a wedding nowadays, Edgeworth always got a meditative look on his face, something that filled Phoenix with both painful hope and fear.
Birthday
His twenty-sixth birthday was accompanied with a surprise party, and no matter what his lover might say, that irksome grin of Wright's told him quite clearly it wasn't entirely Butz, Gumshoe, and Maya's fault.
Blessing
Meeting Wright's parents had been a thoroughly odd experience, and though they had been puzzled by the fact that their son and his lover called each other by their respective last names, Edgeworth thought they approved of him anyway.
Bias
Looking back at his opinions on prosecutors in the days he thought Edgeworth was dead, Phoenix was embarrassed; he didn't want Edgeworth to find out what his feelings had been at the time and hoped Pearls or Maya wouldn't bring up the subject at an inopportune moment.
Burning
Phoenix, his ears burning from a murmured suggestion from his lover, thought that he never would have guessed that Edgeworth could even imagine such things back when they had first met again as prosecutor and defence attorney—let alone do them, and do them well.
Breathing
He always knew whenever Edgeworth was having one of his nightmares: his breathing would speed up and his body would tighten; Phoenix pulled him close whenever he noticed and would pretend to be sleeping once Edgeworth was finally released from his torment, saving the other man's pride.
Breaking
Phoenix knew he was just a little overprotective of Edgeworth nowadays, but he couldn't help himself—Edgeworth had been pushed to the breaking point once before . . . who was to say it couldn't or wouldn't happen again?
Belief
Wright always believed from the bottom of his heart that his clients were innocent, even despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary—it was something Edgeworth simply couldn't fathom, no matter how often he put his mind to the task.
Balloon
The confetti, they tolerated, and the cheering was all right, too, but when Gumshoe started releasing helium balloons at the end of a successful trial, that was when they mutually decided that enough was enough.
Balcony
Juliet's desperate cry to Romeo had been recited to death (and possibly beyond), but somehow, Wright was able to read it to him as though it were the first time those words had been spoken.
Bane
It was odd, Edgeworth mused, how one man could be both the bane of his existence and the most important part of his life—sometimes simultaneously.
Quiet
It was nice, Phoenix thought, being able to come home to Edgeworth's place after shouting himself hoarse in the courtroom and just sitting with him on the couch, breaking the stillness only with a turn of a page or, in Edgeworth's case, a quiet sip of tea.
Quirks
Edgeworth had many quirks born from being raised by von Karma for so many years, but one by one, the more harmful ones were beginning to fade away—Phoenix made sure of that.
Question
“Would the defence care to back up its outlandish claims?” Edgeworth asked with a smirk, and Phoenix couldn't figure out why that expression made him feel far too warm.
Quarrel
From time to time, they fought, and when they did, it was impressive, both men using every courtroom tactic they had at their disposal; though Phoenix could often turn things around in the courtroom, it wasn't always the case in his personal life.
Quitting
Wright never gave up, even when things looked hopeless—it wasn't just limited to the courtroom, either; his persistence was yet another facet of his personality that Edgeworth didn't quite understand.
Jump
Edgeworth's hand on his shoulder startled Phoenix—since when had the man ever initiated physical contact? —but it was the expression on his face that surprised him the most.
Jester
It was strange that the three of them were back together again after all this time, Phoenix thought, and stranger still that their roles hadn't changed—Edgeworth was still the stick-in-the-mud, he himself was the go-along guy, and Larry . . . good old Larry was still the spazzy goof-off.
Jousting
Back and forth he and Wright went when they faced off, prosecutor and defence attorney, until his entire world was one man, one man and his impassioned words, his open body language, his expressive face that showed every thought that crossed his mind; Wright, who was his antithesis in that regard and all others.
Jewel
Two coats, one sapphire, the other garnet, lay tangled together on the end of the bed, mirroring their former occupants.
Just
The truth was everything to him now, and Edgeworth now looked on his days of caring for only a guilty verdict with a feeling of shame; his one comfort was that he had begun to atone for his indifference to the truth by also showing Wright its importance.
Smirk
Edgeworth delivered his correction with a supercilious look, soon to be changed into an expression that was something else entirely as Phoenix yanked Edgeworth to him and kissed his smirking, infuriating, sexy mouth.
Sorrow
A suicide note, but no body; it didn't matter—Edgeworth was gone, and in Phoenix's eyes, the man he had known, his old friend and new rival and the man he had begun to respect was dead, and it was easier to grieve than to keep the wounds open, to kill all hope than to have it flash and fade every time he took the stand to see who his opponent in court would be, every time a red sports car drove by, every time he found himself outside Edgeworth's house (it was only coincidence he turned up in that spot every week in the first few months, and then less and less as it grew closer to the anniversary of his death) . . . and so, Edgeworth was dead—it didn't have to be a physical death for it to be the truth.
Stupidity
Phoenix was smart, good at thinking on his feet, but somehow, with that smirk on his face that Phoenix both loved and hated as the other man presented the detail that would unravel his desperately built-up defence, Edgeworth always managed to make him feel like an absolute dunce.
Serenade
An aria from some opera or another playing in the background, Phoenix let out a contented breath, his eyes closed; he couldn't think of a better way to finish up an evening than to be lying with his head in Edgeworth's lap as the other man, wearing his new reading glasses, finished one last readthrough of the details of an upcoming case.
Sarcasm
It was a favourite trick of Phoenix's, voicing the sarcasm often in his thoughts but rarely spoken aloud; it never failed to momentarily throw Edgeworth.
Sordid
Wright was clearly upset by the case he had taken—Edgeworth had to admit it was a distasteful affair—but he was still pressing forward; Edgeworth, in one of his newly-learned tricks of human interaction, let him come home every evening and simply vent about it, biting his tongue when he felt the urge to make what would inevitably be an unhelpful comment.
Soliloquy
Wright had been planning on becoming a Shakespearean actor, of all things, before he turned to law, but his love of the playwright had never died—which was why Edgeworth had set aside his work for the third day in a row to come and watch Wright as he performed, with an intense passion that made all the other actors seem as though they were merely reading their lines, in an amateur production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Sojourn
He had traveled anywhere and everywhere, all over the world and nowhere in particular, trying to find out what it was, this creature known as a “prosecutor,” but no matter where he moved—not ran, not ran—he could never entirely stop thinking about the man who had shaken him in a way to which he had thought himself impervious, the man he had actually begun . . . to trust.
Share
It was ridiculous and soppy, and if anyone had claimed to see him at it, he would have denied it with a cold stare; yet all the same, it was true—Miles Edgeworth did, in fact, enjoy sharing an umbrella with his lover on a rainy day.
Solitary
Edgeworth had liked being alone, preferring his own company above all others, but lately, that had been changing—he had begun to see the attraction of spending time with at least one certain other person.
Nowhere
“I wasn't anywhere in particular—sorry for being so late,” Phoenix apologised to a huffy Maya, pulling the collar of his turtleneck a little higher and feeling himself flush faintly.
Neutral
It wasn't in their natures not to take a side—their very livelihoods forced them to do so every day—but on some topics, such as the merits of The Steel Samurai versus those of Pink Princess, in the face of an enthusiastic Maya, Phoenix and Edgeworth were quite happy to remain neutral.
Nuance
That was the frustrating thing about Edgeworth—everything he did was subtle, from tone of voice to one of the many ways in which he chose to avoid meeting another's gaze, and it had taken Phoenix months to learn to read him properly even one time in two.
Near
Even though Phoenix's apartment was in biking-distance and Edgeworth's place was a longer bus ride away, Phoenix found himself leaving his bike at the office most days and going to Edgeworth's; proximity wasn't everything, after all.
Natural
Defence attorneys and prosecutors were natural enemies, it was true, but there was something to be said for rising above the intended.
Horizon
Edgeworth wasn't exactly certain why he was doing this, but Wright had insisted, and so he had given in, meaning that he was spending the first morning of the new year waiting for the sun's curve to show itself above the horizon; for Edgeworth (and, he had the distinct feeling, for Wright as well), the attraction wasn't in straining to see the first touches of pastel colour in the sky, but in spending an hour simply sitting, arms around one another, together in a comfortable silence.
Valiant
“Your conjectures are a waste of air if you can't back them up with decisive evidence,” Edgeworth told Wright, and though it was a valiant effort, he knew it was useless—Wright had that too-confident grin on his face that he was starting to recognise spelled the beginning of the end for him, and though it was infuriating, a small part of Edgeworth enjoyed that expression, liked it when Wright looked that way; he simply couldn't understand why.
Virtuous
Wright could have been a virtuous prig, but he wasn't—it was the honesty and openness of his belief in his clients' innocence that kept him from being irritating (at least, in that regard) and made him instead . . . almost inspiring, even if he was still struggling with the truth.
Victory
Another victory, in what was to be one of his last cases against Edgeworth (the prosecutor would soon change districts to prevent conflict of interest); Phoenix grinned at Edgeworth across the room as the judge's gavel came down for the last time, and the look Edgeworth gave him in return promised retribution later that night—Phoenix could hardly wait.
Defeat
Defeated again; he couldn't understand how Wright kept doing that when no other defence attorney could—and as Wright gave him a cocky look from the other side of the courtroom, Edgeworth decided he would do his utmost to remove that expression from his face when they got home that evening.