I like to find different situations to put Kazuma in to really bring out the angst. Soulmate AUs are one of them.
Kazuma wonders what the experience of seeing his own name on Kazuma’s skin is like for Ryuunosuke; for his part, it still makes Kazuma’s pulse flutter to see his name on the other man’s arm.
Kazuma, who had never expected he’d have a soulmate. Kazuma, whose soul belongs as much to his family’s memory as it does to him.
“It feels as though we just found each other, is all,” Ryuunosuke remarks quietly. And then after a pause, he adds, “I’ll miss you terribly.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” is what he should say; or, even better, he could finally muster the courage to give voice to the unspoken truth in his heart: “I love you, Ryuunosuke.”
Instead, when Ryuunosuke’s dark eyes meet his once again, Kazuma hears himself saying, “Maybe you don’t have to.”
“W-what?”
“Come to England with me.”
You can read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60084748
This zine is free to download and has a ton of great content!
I had the pleasure of being one of the mods for this project. It was a lot of fun watching our writers develop their pieces, and it's exciting to see their fantastic fics now available, along with a ton of great art and digital merch!
A lot of really talented people worked hard to bring this project together. Please consider checking it out!
I'm really excited to be one of the contributors for Iustitia, a zine highlighting the women of Ace Attorney!
I fell in love (and have stayed in love) with Ace Attorney and the Great Ace Attorney in huge part because of the stories these games tell about women. The Feys, the Skye sisters, Franziska, Kay, and of course all of the women of TGAA - I will be here all day if I try to name every feminine-presenting character I love from this franchise. The games can be problematic at times in regards to their representation, and yeah, there are some tropes that I really don't care to see revived again. One of the things AA does well, though, is give us complicated women. The women of AA endure so much pain and trauma. They make bad choices. They relate to each other in complicated ways and have compelling stories. They're silly, and they're smart, and they're perfectly imperfect.
One of my favorite things to do as a fanfic writer is to explore characters arcs of AA women beyond what we get to see in these games. That's why I'm so pleased to be able to share a glimpse of what I've been working on for this zine.
I'm lucky to have been able to write about some of the AAI women just as these games were getting a new port. I was reintroduced to Kay Faraday in HD - and, yes, I still love her dearly.
This whole zine is a love letter to the women of AA, and there's some fantastic content and great merch available. Please consider checking it out! @aawomenzine or https://aawomenzine.bigcartel.com/.
@caffeinatic talent for humor and heartwarming conversations will be put to the test during this case! Her take on some of our favorite Investigations characters will stop the prosecution in their tracks!
Super excited to be a part of this zine! The AAI release came just in time to fuel my brain for my piece focusing on my favorite Investigations women 💞
I had the pleasure of being the writing mod for this zine. It will have some really fun AA celebrity stories (and articles!) crafted by our seven writers.
We also have some beautiful fanart, comics, and really fun digital merch that will be released along with the zine. Our contributors worked hard and created some great stuff, so please consider checking it out!
Written for the prompt "Sharing" in the Asbrry community and influenced by this post. Admittedly light on the Ryuu based on where it falls in the TGAA timeline, but he's there in spirit. T rating, CW for treating an injury and implied sex.
---
“Come along, Apprentice,” Barok says.
The word has become a name in absence of the one that the apprentice no longer remembers. It rings in the hollow recesses of his mind, spaces that surely housed all that he once had been but which are now disconcertingly empty of all but his master’s voice and that still, quiet whisper: You have not yet fulfilled your purpose.
He has not yet discerned his fate—or, if he has, he can no longer recall it—but he cannot ignore the hastening beat of his heart when he looks at the man: his benefactor, his teacher. His master.
If he has some destiny that awaits him on these strange shores, he is certain that Barok van Zieks is a part of it.
“Yes, my Lord,” and he follows. He follows Barok with a sense of certainty; he stands at his side, unwavering, for whatever his Lord might need. Today it is assistance with their most recent investigation. Tomorrow it will be the prosecution of a man they both believe to be guilty of murder. The apprentice cannot help but believe that he has been drawn here, for reasons beyond his ken, to stand by this man’s side.
It is a familiar thing, he thinks, to stand at the side of another with such resolve. Steps he has walked before, a tale he has told once already. But what whispers of destiny he may have heard then, he cannot say.
---
“You should take more care, Apprentice,” Barok says.
The apprentice winces at the sting of the antiseptic, but Barok does not pull away, and eventually the pain morphs into a lingering burn that is easier to bear. He applies gentle pressure to the fresh wound and does not meet the apprentice’s eyes.
“I would not see you hurt for my sake,” Barok continues. His free hand rests on the apprentice’s arm, fingers curling around the apprentice’s wrist. The apprentice smiles, and there is a shade of wryness to the expression.
“Not even you, my Lord,” he says, “can stop me from fighting for what I believe in.”
Barok’s gaze flickers up to meet his, a fleeting glance before he returns his attention quickly to his ministrations. There is a faint flush to his pale cheeks that had not been there before; the apprentice’s smile only grows.
There is another, the apprentice is certain, for whom he had been ready to die—or perhaps for whom he has died already?—but the memory unfurls before him like tendrils of steam over a boiling pot, barely visible, impossible to grasp.
Still, the apprentice knows how to wield a sword. His stance is different from his master’s, his technique something buried in the recesses of his brain, half-remembered, that had surfaced when he needed it most. If he has retained these skills, there must be some greater purpose for it.
It feels right, he thinks, to imagine that he has come here to fight for what is just.
---
“You may go, Apprentice,” Barok says.
The apprentice doesn’t leave.
He is dressed in the clothing Barok procured for him, standing in the home where Barok grants him room and board, among all the books and all the knowledge Barok has so readily shared with him. He cannot speak to the years leading up to this, but it is clear to whom he swears fealty now.
“I would stay, my Lord,” he says, “if you would have me.”
Barok looks up at him sharply, surprise showing briefly in his expression before it settles once again on neutrality; his master is in the habit of wearing a mask, just as he is. The apprentice, however, is certain that Barok understands. His visage betrays nothing as he studies his apprentice, but Barok’s eyes are ever discerning.
“You are under no obligation to stay,” Barok says finally, cautious.
The apprentice is smiling as he approaches, brazen in a way that feels both all too familiar and as though he is stepping into another’s skin. Brazen in a way he thinks he might be if he weren’t half-hidden behind this mask.
When he reaches Barok’s side, he pauses next to the chair where the other man remains seated. “It would be no obligation,” he says. It is an invitation, and they both know it.
He waits, though the tension in his muscles protests his stillness and the heat in his veins tells him to strike first. He waits for his Lord to touch his face with soft, timid fingers, along the line of his jaw, to guide him without words to bow his head and bring their lips together for the first time.
Later, his master leads him upstairs; the apprentice, as ever, follows faithfully.
---
“You can stay, my apprentice,” Barok says.
The apprentice smiles even as he presses a kiss to the other man’s jaw. “I dare not, my Lord,” he says. “What would your valet say?”
“Those in the van Zieks household value their discretion,” Barok says. He does not stop the apprentice as he throws back the bedclothes and slips from the sheets.
“Then let me be discreet, too,” he replies.
He does not say that the feeling of hands on his hips, of sweat-slick skin against his, has rekindled some faint recollection, as though his body has held onto what his mind has lost: memories, half-formed, of unruly hair and kind, dark eyes.
He could tell his master, he knows, of these unearthed relics from a past love. They come from a different world, and there would be no need for jealousy over something so far removed from them here and now. The apprentice, however, holds his tongue.
He has precious little left of who he once was, and each glimpse of his past is shrouded in a darkness that his mind’s eye fails to pierce. What remnants remain to him are hardly enough for him to piece together the larger picture of who he was, but he treasures them anyway. And he hardly dares speak aloud the memory of those dark eyes, lest they, too, fade away into the ether.
The apprentice can see fit to share his loyalty, his sword, his desire. He might even someday come to share his heart with the man who is helping to reforge him.
This little piece of his soul, though, the apprentice will keep for himself.
Well, considering I’ve already got a request for AsoRyuu, I shall have this be for BaroAso. Without further ado, it’s time I write about one of my strangest ships.
Not nearly 800 words of modern AU that I wrote over lunch for the asbrry community's first weekly prompt. Rated T for swears and mentions of sex.
---
“He looks like a prick.”
His voice had been pitched low—certainly not loud enough to carry to the front of the lecture hall, not to mention the ears of the professor in question—but Ryuunosuke hissed at him to be quiet anyway. Kazuma leaned back in his seat in a way that was most certainly not him sulking after being shushed and cast a sullen glance at his partner. Ryuunosuke was pulling his laptop out of his bag to perch it on the small half moon desk attached to his seat. Everything about his body language seemed to discourage further judgmental comments—but then, Kazuma would hardly be the top student in their class if he stopped whenever he was presented with a challenge, would he?
“We have to listen to him talk for hours about the driest subject in the legal academy’s curriculum,” he persisted. “The least he could do is not be a prick.”
“History of law isn’t a dry subject,” Ryuunosuke protested. “And Barok van Zieks wrote the book on it—quite literally.”
“The history of British law,” Kazuma said, his tone only mildly disdainful.
“If you didn’t want to learn about British law,” Ryuunosuke replied, “perhaps you shouldn’t have opted to do a study tour in London.”
His sardonic tone made Kazuma smile. However, he didn’t respond right away, instead letting them lapse into silence. Next to him, Ryuunosuke was busily checking his emails. Kazuma knew this was a ruse to pass the time until the lecture started; Ryuunosuke didn’t get anything important via email.
Below them, students shuffled through the open doors of the lecture hall and up the steps of the theater-style seating amid quiet conversations. There weren’t many other students present yet, but then, he and Ryuunosuke had been a good ten minutes early.
At the head of the classroom, the new hire in question, Professor van Zieks, busied himself with something at the lectern. He seemed to be largely ignoring the students as they filtered in. Occasionally, though, he would glance up, his gaze sweeping the room, almost as though he was looking for someone.
On one sweep, the professor’s pale eyes met his, holding his gaze for just a moment too long. Kazuma didn’t smile, but he didn’t look away, either. Van Zieks gave him a single, stilted nod—Kazuma was quite sure he didn’t know how else to end the interaction—and returned his attention to the lectern.
“He’s wearing shoulder pads,” Kazuma commented to Ryuunosuke, who made an exasperated sound in response. “You don’t think he looks like a pompous ass?”
“I think he looks—perfectly fine,” Ryuunosuke said. The way he forced his gaze quickly back to his laptop screen once he’d said it betrayed him. Kazuma’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re attracted to him,” he accused.
“I don’t—I never said—” But the faint pink that dusted Ryuunosuke’s cheeks in response was all the confirmation that Kazuma needed.
“Ryuunosuke, do you want to fuck the new history of law professor?”
Ryuunosuke looked around, desperate to determine whether anyone had overhead the allegation. If any of the nearby students had, they at least had the courtesy to pretend; no one so much as looked in their direction. Still, Ryuunosuke replied irritably, “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Maybe he’ll take you to dinner and tell you all those juicy historical facts before you—”
“Kazuma.”
“Fine,” Kazuma relented, hands raised to signify the truce.
Ryuunosuke sighed. “Look, history of law is a required class,” he began. “We’ve got to be here either way. It seems the least we could do is keep an open mind. About the course,” he adds quickly, cutting off any comment his partner may have about just how open Ryuunosuke’s mind was.
“I understand, Ryuunosuke,” Kazuma said. He kept his tone light, though he didn’t miss it when Ryuunosuke looked askance at his affected innocence. Ryuunosuke could always tell when Kazuma was lying, even if he was horrible at guessing just what he was lying about. “The fact that you want to sleep with the new history of law professor should have no bearing on this academic endeavor.”
“Yes,” Ryuunosuke agreed, in a voice that also blatantly said that he still didn’t trust Kazuma’s sudden agreeableness. “Exactly. Nor should the fact that you don’t want to sleep with the new history of law professor.”
“I never said I didn’t want to sleep with him.”
Ryuunosuke blinked at him. “Y-you called him a prick,” he reminded Kazuma, as though Kazuma had forgotten this in the last five minutes.
Kazuma shrugged, then grinned at Ryuunosuke. “You’re a prick sometimes, too, partner.”
“Unbelievable,” Ryuunosuke muttered, mostly to himself, before he added, “You know, I hope he is a prick. I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”
Shout out to @kvzzine for prompting me to write this:
Rounding the house, there’s no sign of the disturbance, but Klint and Asogi do catch sight of two silhouettes beneath a lamppost and move to join them.
“What’s happened?” Klint demands. Only then does he realize that the men before him are not police; he’s addressing the great detecting duo.
Sholmes is still in disguise. Mikotoba is holding a cabbage.
Klint rolls his eyes.
What disguise is Sholmes wearing, you may be asking yourself, and why is Mikotoba holding a cabbage? Find the answers to these and other important questions here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55829173
Even better, you can find this story (complete with Cabbage Mikotoba illustration) and many better ones by downloading All Dogs Go to Heaven: A Klint van Zieks Zine - for free!
you know what, i've sent this list to a couple friends at this point so i might as well make it a post -
ACE ATTORNEY FIC RECOMMENDATIONS!
(all mostly sfw) (i'll make a separate list of nsfw ones)
in no particular order, besides the first few!
Pressure (pushing down on me) - genuinely the best ace attorney fic i've read. between the characterization, expansion of plotbeats, the prose, etc. Pressure elaborates on and reinterprets canon scenes taking place in the main trilogy. Obviously narumitsu flavored. CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS ENOUGH.
Kindred - my FAVORITE, genuinely a comfort fic i've reread at least three times. miles adopts Pess, a borzoi dog tied to a murder case. very narumitsu flavored
Indefensible - also HIGH up there as a favorite, a very robust murder case with fantastic characterization across the board. it's got narumitsu, it's got franmaya, it's got drama. everything you need. there IS a few sex scenes, but the author warns you in the chapter descriptions if thats not your thing.
continued....
take it like a man - light angst centered on phoenix, and suit shopping. it's good
New Digs - really well written oneshot highlighting maya's ptsd, which we don't do enough of as a fandom btw
you still love him (but she does too) - classic case 3-5 hospital scene, very beautifully written
i didn't know how so we took it in turns (to my surprise we found my words) - narumitsu hurt/comfort focused on miles' ptsd
the soul truth (and nothing but the the truth) - FRANMAYA CENTRIC MULTI CHAPTER!!! WOOHOO. a really very good case fic :]
Triple Blind Taste Test - this is a oneshot about fran being autistic and struggling with food texture, which makes Me Personally feel very seen
to know gifts given - miles and pearl bonding, very cute :'D
the patience of little great things - trucy sickfic, miles does the Most to help phoenix take care of her.
