An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Crimson Regret
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Rating: Teen
Category: Gen
Word count: 100 words
Summary: When Maya comes to Mia’s office to collect evidence, she’s faced with an awful scene.
Tag list: @mikaharuka @tsunderewatermelon @sergeantneko
Hey, guys! I’m expanding my fic horizons slightly, and trying out different fandoms. If you’re not already subscribed to me on A03, that’s the easiest way to not miss updates, I post a lot. I’m trying to remember to post regularly here, but I do forget.
15. “You know, it took me a long time to decide on food poisoning.” For Marisol please x
I've never written a Marisol piece so I hope you like this! @bubblelaureno
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Sophia proudly smiled as she finished setting the table. Dinner was ready and boy she was ready to eat. She was now waiting on her girlfriend to get home so they could enjoy their first home cooked meal together. Hearing the door unlock, Sophia squealed as she quickly ran to meet Marisol at the door.
Marisol smiled at the sight of her girlfriend waiting at the door. They had just moved into their new place that they both had worked so hard for. Now they had a place they could call their own.
“Come on, come on! Dinner is ready!” Sophia sqealed pulling Marisol towards the kitchen by her hand.
“Can I at least put my bags down?” Marisol pleaded as she followed. As they made their way to the kitchen, bags fell from Marisol's arms. She hoped no important law firm papers fell out.
“Aright! Now sit!” Sophia demanded, pushing Marisol into her chair. Marisol glanced at the place to find a classic roast with vegetables and potatoes. It smelled amazing! But Marisol was reluctant to taste.
“What are you waiting for? Did in! I worked so hard for this!”
“Yes but, ” Marisol started to say as she used her fork to tear off a bite of roast.
“But what?”
“You know, it took me a long time to decide on food poisoning.”
Madisol laughed as Sopahia squealed in frustration.
“It was one time! I promise I had Bobby help with most of this.”
Marisol gulped before bringing the fork to her lips. She chewed at the surprising texture of meat, the taste of seasoningisb was present and it made Marisols mouth water for more!
“This is amazing!” Sophia widely smiled as she leaned down to give Marisol a kiss. Feeling her soft lips on hers always made her heart flutter.
“I told you,” she replied before sitting to talk about Marisol's day.
16 for the touch prompts for Marisol x MC please x
Thank you so much for the prompt <3
16. touch after a nightmare | Marisol x MC
You wake with a start, gasping and clutching at the blankets around you. The bedroom of the villa comes in to focus as you blink away the nightmare. In the bed next to you is a sleeping boy, clearly undisturbed by you moving about. Turning over, you try not to think about how there’s someone you’d much rather be sharing the bed with.
You look over, hoping to see her, but the bed next to you is strangely empty. Lifting your head to look further, you realise only her side of the bed is empty with Graham asleep on the other side.
You slide out of bed, careful not to wake anyone else in the room and wrap your arms around yourself to keep some of the warmth in. You hesitate for a moment - you’d told yourself you’d stop following after her, no matter the draw you felt, and were sure she couldn’t deny either. It was starting to hurt too much. But that nightmare, you still felt shaken.
You shake your head and pull your arms tighter around you, making your way to the roof terrace. She’s out there, sat on the bench and staring out at the sky.
You open the door, breathing in the fresh air, before swallowing heavily and speaking. “Hi.”
She doesn’t startle, just turns to you, a small smile etched on her beautiful face, as if she was expecting you to join her. “Hi, yourself.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you walk over to the bench. She’s got a pillow in her lap and is playing with the threads, her big eyes still on your face. “Something like that. You?”
You sigh, breaking eye contact, and laying your head against the back of the terrace. You look up into the night sky. “Just a bad dream.”
She edges closer, you can feel the warmth radiating from her. “I’m sorry.”
A silence hangs between you, lingering with words unsaid. You relish in it, those moments where it feels like there’s all the possibility in the world, even though neither of you ever does anything.
She’s the first to break it. “Did you ever think we’d both still be here at this stage?”
“No.” Not if we weren’t together. You bite your tongue to stop the words coming out.
“Really?”
You turn your head to look at her, hair falls into your face. Her eyes seem to be searching yours, those calculating eyes surprisingly warm behind her glasses. Your mouth feels dry and you don’t manage to form a reply. Instead, you look away again and close your eyes.
“So, what was your nightmare about?”
You feel your jaw clench. “It’s nothing, Marisol.” Her name slips out of your mouth for the first time in days. You’ve avoided saying it, tried to stop thinking it altogether. Tears threaten at your eyes and you scrunch them closed tighter.
“Hey.” Her voice is barely a whisper now, and you feel a strand of hair being tucked behind your ear. Her finger grazes your cheek and it’s like something sparks through you at her touch. You open your eyes again, and she’s so close. She cups your face with her hand, wiping her thumb at the tears threatening to spill over. “It’s going to be okay.” All you can do is nod and lean into her hand, soothingly warm in the cold night air.
She pulls you closer, until you’re resting your head on her shoulder and the tears start flowing. At this point, you can’t tell if it’s the horrible nightmare or the fact you’re this close to her but still so far. She runs her fingers through your hair, stroking softly. “I’ve got you.”
It’s so soothing, and after a few minutes, when your tears have dried up and your breath is back to normal, you expect her to pull away. But she doesn’t. You feel your eyes start to close, her fingers caressing your head are almost sending you to sleep and you don’t have the strength to pull away.
Before you drift off, you feel her lean closer and soft lips on your forehead. She murmurs against you, “I’m here. I’m not going to leave you, I’m here.”
“I don’t want to screw this up.” For Marisol x MC please x
They had eaten dinner in relative silence, only breaking it when Maeve asked an innocent question or a waiter came over to ask them about their order.
Eventually, Marisol speaks, and the harshness of her whisper makes Maeve flinch a little.
“God, I don’t want to screw this up.” Marisol mutters under her breath, and Maeve cocks her head in confusion.
“Babe, you’re scaring m—”
“Shh, I’m trying to—” Marisol presses a manicured finger to Maeve’s lips, and Maeve kisses it gently, unable to resist…then does it again when it finally makes Marisol smile through the internal battle raging in her eyes.
“O’Malley.” Marisol’s admonition is light, and her index finger is cool as it drags along the expanse of Maeve’s lower lip, eliciting a murmur of disapproval from the old couple at the table next to them.
“Hmm?” Maeve can barely process what is happening around her anymore, let alone form a fully-functioning sentence.
“Focus.” Well, that’s just not fair. But Maeve does, eventually, once Marisol has removed the electric touch of her finger from Maeve’s skin.
Marisol takes a deep, unsteady breath before continuing. “You’ve always been there for me.” It’s only then that Maeve notices the small (yet somehow enormous) black box that Marisol’s trembling fingers are now clutching at, rolling between her fingers like she doesn’t want to let go. Maeve tries to open her mouth, but the sound won’t come, and it’s all she can do to not interrupt and sweep her up.
“Life has thrown so much at us already, but I know we can face whatever is left to come if we’re together. I want to be the one to make you happy for the rest of our lives.” Marisol seems to stop then as if someone has tugged on strings, and she waits with tension and, Maeve realises with a start, fear in beautiful brown eyes and Maeve smiles.
“Yes.” Maeve’s voice is quiet, uncharacteristically so, and she clears her throat to dispel the emotion that threatens to pull her under. “Yes.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” And then Marisol is kissing her like she needs it to live (Maeve knows she does, always has), and takes the simple gold claddagh ring from the box and, with clumsy help from Maeve, slides it on.
“Were you ever in any doubt?” Maeve asks as she kisses Marisol and tastes the salt of a tear, shed among the relieved sobs Marisol is trying to suppress, still in the middle of the restaurant.
“You’re the one—you always tell me you like to keep me on my toes.” Marisol tries to laugh but she is shaking still from stress, and Maeve clasps Marisol’s free hand in both of her own.
“Not like this.” Maeve is almost stern then, and she doesn’t fail to notice the way Marisol’s eyes widen a little and darken at her tone.
Focus, O’Malley.
“Not when it’s as important as this.” She strokes the soft skin at Marisol’s wrist in a silent, intimate promise, and Marisol’s smile could outshine the sun.
