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apollo-justice-for-all · 5 years

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More Things I’d Like In A(n) (im)Possible Season 3

A continuation of this post from last week.

Under the cut due to being ridiculously long. Also contains major spoilers for AJ:AA and minor spoilers for Spirit of Justice.

So, in Turnabout Stageplay, Apollo is arrested because he supposedly stole an important prop for an upcoming school play (even though we know the real culprit is actually a kleptomaniac bully named Lars Enie). During the night that he spends in solitary confinement, he has a nightmare of the night his father died and wakes up feeling nauseous. The guard on night shift feels really bad because Polly is only a little kid, and offers to take him to the washroom so Apollo doesn’t decorate the walls of his cell with his lunch. After that, the guard decides to help Apollo feel better by having him listen to some music. Polly chooses “The Guitar’s Serenade” because he’s a huge fan of Lamiroir’s music and it helps lull him to sleep during a rather difficult night

The next morning, Phoenix learns of the theft that happened and decides to pay Apollo a visit to learn more about what happened. Apollo is a little sleepy at first due to his rough night, so his vision is somewhat blurry and he simply mumbles, but as soon as he sees the lawyer in the blue suit sitting on the opposite side of the glass window, his sleepiness immediately vanishes because...it’s his idol, the legendary Phoenix Wright!!

Apollo: Are you Phoenix Wright? The legendary blue lawyer?

Phoenix: (Legendary? Since when was I legendary?) Uh, yeah. That’s me.

Apollo: I KNEW IT!! I can’t believe it! Me, sitting before the famous defense attorney! It’s like...it’s like... It’s like a dream come true!

Phoenix: Ahahaha... I see...

Apollo is so freaking excited to meet his idol in person that he lists down all the cases that he had been keeping track of, starting with the very trial when Phoenix cross-examined a parrot to figure out the unsolved DL-6 case and expose Manfred von Karma as the real killer of Gregory Edgeworth (in Turnabout Goodbyes). Phoenix is embarrassed by the notion that someone had been keeping track of all his cases, but also pleased to hear that he has a fan in the form of this 15-year-old teen

This kind of excitement is also why Apollo doesn’t hesitate to hire Phoenix as his lawyer for tomorrow’s trial. After all, Nick’s his idol and Polly wants to see for himself just what kind of a defense attorney he really is with his own eyes

Apollo: Please defend me in court tomorrow, Mr. Wright!

Phoenix: Alright then. If you say so. After all, I’d hate to see a fan of mine get the wrong verdict. (Wow, that happened fast...)

Apollo: Then it’s settled! You go and gather whatever evidence you need to prove my innocence. Oh, and don’t worry about me! My Chords of Steel and I will make sure you get the best, most honest possible testimony from us!

Phoenix: (...Chords of what?)

Nick is just completely baffled that Apollo would be so quick to trust him at first, but he then notes the look in Apollo’s eyes and thinks about the way they burn fiercely with determination...a look that reminds him of his old mentor, the late Mia Fey

Come the day of the trial, Apollo is surprised (and slightly disappointed) that Phoenix appointed Kristoph Gavin as Apollo’s defense attorney, but Nick reassures him and he’ll still defend him as Kristoph’s co-counsel

Apollo turns out to be a reliable client, and is able to debunk his own accusations by presenting his class schedule as evidence. The school play was part of the theater class, which Polly never took (he instead has a music class). It’s decisive evidence that helps Nick and Kristoph identify the real culprit as Lars Enie and nets Apollo a “Not Guilty” verdict

In the 2019 segment of Turnabout Succession, Apollo decides to take the day off by going to the courthouse library so he can study law and become a lawyer like Phoenix one day, like the little nerd/idol he is. Clay just tags along with him because, well, there’s no way he’s letting his best friend out of his sight

Along the way to the library, the boys stop at the defendant lobby where Zak Gramarye’s trial is being held. Apollo forgets about the library and decides to instead sneak in the courtroom through the gallery so he can see the trial taking place. Clay just puts duct tape over Apollo’s mouth because Apollo has NO INDOOR VOICE and Clay doesn’t want to take any chances and risk getting the both of them thrown out

Apollo: ?????????????? (Duct tape?! Clay, what the hell?!)

Clay: Sorry, Apollo, but this is for your own good. You’ll thank me later.

Apollo: (But...but...but my Chords of Steel! I-I thought you liked them!)

So the two of them are just sitting in the courtroom watching the trial go by. Well, Clay is; Apollo’s just trying to scratch a little bit of the stupid duct tape off of his mouth. He finally rips the duct tape off just in time to witness the judge calling out Phoenix for presenting the missing page from Magnifi’s diary, which was forged evidence. Apollo wants to say that Nick didn’t realize the evidence was forged, but he is so stunned by this revelation that he is at a complete loss of words. It’s only when Zak performs his disappearing trick that he screeches a huge “WHAT?!” This attracts the attention of the bailiff and they attempt to throw the boys out. The bailiff manage to capture Clay, but he distracts them long enough for Apollo to make his escape (he gets to the courtroom library and stays until the bailiff give up)

A little while after, Apollo spots Phoenix leaving the courthouse and manages to catch up to him. Phoenix isn’t interested in small talk, but Polly knows that it wasn’t Nick’s fault for presenting the forged evidence

Apollo: The Phoenix Wright I know would NEVER present forged evidence! You just...didn’t know, is all.

Apollo decides to come clean by admitting to Phoenix that his reason for becoming a defense attorney was to study what the law was so that he may one day meet his idol in court and find the truth together. Maybe they would’ve been able to find out who really was behind the murder of Magnifi Gramarye

Phoenix: It’s too late now. I’ve made a mistake...one that has cost me my entire career. And it’s a price I must pay.

Phoenix again attempts to talk out of it when Apollo suddenly recites the motto and gesture displayed by members of the Defiant Dragons: “A dragon never yields.” Nick is so confused over what is running through this boy’s mind, whether he’s that ditzy or just a little naive, but deep down he knows that Apollo’s heart burns fiercely with determination...a fire that, Phoenix thinks, won’t let anything try to extinguish it

The 2019 segment of Turnabout Succession ends with the events taking place seven years later and gradually leading up to Turnabout Trump. Phoenix, now a hobo, visits Kristoph Gavin’s law firm, reminiscing about the trial the two men had worked on together. Upon entering it, he meets Kristoph alongside Apollo, now a rookie defense attorney. Upon recognizing the bracelet around Apollo’s wrist, Phoenix decides to arrange a meeting with Zak Gramarye, now known as Shadi Smith, at the Borscht Bowl Club. Nick and Shadi discuss past events that transpired with Troupe Gramarye, including the accident that “claimed” the life of Thalassa Gramarye. It is revealed that Apollo - who was thought to have grown up as an orphan - is actually Thalassa’s long-lost son, and that he has a half-sister in the form of Phoenix’s adopted daughter Trucy Wright (née Trucy Enigmar due to Shadi being her biological father). While Phoenix muses on this revelation having no connection to what Apollo had said to him seven years ago, he does deduce that it could be the reason why he now wears one of his mother’s bracelets

Everything else is pretty much how it goes with the games, except the 2026 segment of Turnabout Succession is referred to as Turnabout Succession Returns

Listen, if the anime made Turnabout Big Top bearable, then it can make Turnabout Serenade just as good, maybe even better than the mess that it was in the games

That’s all for now! I may add another one if I get any more ideas.

#cyber rambles #Phoenix Wright #Apollo Justice #Kristoph Gavin #Clay Terran #Zak Gramarye #Shadi Smith #Shadi Enigmar #Trucy Wright #Mia Fey #Dhurke Sahdmadhi #Thalassa Gramarye #Defiant Dragons #Dhurke gets a brief mention here because yes #Ace Attorney #AA4 spoilers #AA6 spoilers #long post #I really liked adding in the dialogue for this one

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years

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The Witches of Los Angeles, Chapter 1: I am apparently not wasting any time starting in on the next installment of this saga!

[ao3] [Seelie of Kurain masterlist]

“But what if, even after all of this, I make it to the end, and nobody will hire me? That nobody’s willing to work with a teenage attorney and I just – can’t do anything because I don’t have anywhere to go?”

“That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ there, kiddo. But if – if – you get your badge, do your searching, can’t find a single office in the LA area willing to take on a prodigy – then there’s always my office. It’s sure as hell not a law office right now, but it’d give you a space to work out of.”

It’s a bad time for the phone to ring. Even if Edgeworth was still in Europe, he’s always been good at working around the time difference (and he knew that at the odd hours of the night, even if Phoenix was awake, he’d be in the basement of the club with no reception) and never just called at a time that would make Phoenix panic. And it can’t be Maya or Pearls, with no sense of time, because he worked with Iris (the only one of them who understood human needs for sleep) to put an enchantment on his phone that stopped them from calling him about things that weren’t life-threatening at 2 am.

In the time it takes him to fumble for his phone, he has gone through the options: Trucy snuck out and got arrested for underage drinking or trespassing or arson or whatever teen girls do to have fun in the small hours of the morning. Edgeworth got murdered staying too late at his office. Apollo got into some sort of trouble, though Phoenix’s imagination has never been able to figure out what Apollo would be doing out and in trouble at this hour (though if he really considers possibilities, Klavier is probably also involved). Or Thalassa had something happen to her, or she found out what lost, forbidden knowledge he and Maya have been chasing for the sake of her soul and with no regard for time wants to yell at him.

Bleary-eyed, he doesn’t check the caller ID and simply answers. “Phoenix Wright speaking.”

“Mr Wright! Mr Wright! I passed! I passed!”

Or, the option he hadn’t considered. “Time zones, please,” he groans, resting his face back against his pillow. “It’s two am and – wait.” He sits back up, blinking at the dark room like written somewhere in it will be something to help him replay the words she just said. “You passed?”

“The Bar results came today! I passed! Athena Cykes, barred and badged attorney at the ready! I’ve got a flight booked tomorrow and stuff packing now! Vámonos!”

Oh, god. Athena never lets him forget that she lives her entire life in a frantic rush. “Slow down, kiddo,” he says, knowing that she absolutely will not but feeling obligated to try to make her do so anyway. “Do you have somewhere you’re working? A place to live?”

“No to the second, yes to the first.”

“Well, that’s probably something you should do before you come back. I can give you a hand, but you shouldn’t have too much trouble finding a place.” There are always cheap available apartments in a city built this close to faery hills – or mountains, as it is. The unpredictable, not-typical-SoCal weather would probably be enough to send people running, but Phoenix also has a theory that the city itself has enough of a life force that it decides what people it doesn’t want and gives them little mental nudges to make them leave. (To the people it does want, it gives cheap rent and depression.)

“So where are you working?” he adds. He doesn’t know every defense attorney in the city, but he knows of most of them. (Athena’s a sharp, emotionally intelligent kid. He doesn’t need to vet her entire career for her. She’d figure out quick enough if she was working for someone nasty.)

“Uh, have you forgotten, and isn’t it obvious – Boss?”

Phoenix manages not to swear out loud, which he thinks is rather impressive of him, all things considered. His mind racing, he tries to remember if he ever directly offered Athena a job or simply positioned himself as the backup-backup plan, the last resort, because he isn’t a boss or a mentor and all he knows how to be is the shelter that collects stray kids fucked up and fucked over by fae magic where he can’t do much worse to them than has already been done. And Athena isn’t one of them.

(Isn’t she?)

No, Athena shouldn’t be here.

And then what he says is, “Ah. Right,” as his mouth once again keeps going ahead of his brain. “You know,” he adds, knowing that it’s probably too late but needing to try, “you don’t have to just charge in like this. You can look for other places instead of just coming with me because I was the first option. You’ve got time. It’s not like there’s some kind of door that’s about to slam in your face.”

Midlife crisis before she’s out of her teens, that’s the impression that she gives him. Like she thinks her entire life will be useless if she doesn’t have a badge and a certain number of cases under her belt before she turns nineteen. Like there’s an end line she’s afraid of tripping over that no one else can see, but because she’s a damn kid Phoenix is terrified she’s going to get chewed up like Franziska and Klavier and Sebastian all were, ripped apart and rearranged by the heartless, manipulative people who stood behind them.

(And Athena doesn’t have one of those, not now, not yet, but Phoenix doesn’t have any reservations about what he is, what even more he could be.)

“I can do stuff now, so I’m gonna do it! Also the plane ticket can only be canceled 24 hours in advance, and the flight is closer than that, so I really can’t stop now.”

Knowing that she can’t see him, Phoenix still shakes his head. “And where are you planning on staying until you find housing?” he asks.

He might be able to guess the answer to this one, too. And that is its own can of worms for him to lie in, but if she’s working at the Agency, then – well, he can keep an eye on her but still distance himself, and she’ll have Apollo to show her the ropes. She could learn a lot from him, and he from her. It might – scratch that, it would definitely – be good for Apollo to have another lawyer to work with. And he knows that Apollo, unlike most others, shouldn’t be too freaked out by Athena’s powers. No one’s normal at the WAA. Maybe it is the best place for Athena, in spite of himself.

(No, he’s going to need to repeat that to himself a few hundred more times before he believes it.)

“So Trucy kinda said that maybe I could crash on your couch? Or her bedroom floor. Or the fire escape! I mean, all I really need is a shower and a flat surface, and I guess I’m gonna get a gym membership and they’ll have showers, so I could sleep at the office too!”

“I am not going to make you sleep at the office,” Phoenix says. Mia wouldn’t allow him to do that. “I’m not sure where you would hang your clothes, anyway.”

“Is that – is that you being cool with Trucy’s floor?”

Is it? He’s lost on everything else so far he’s tried to bargain with Athena on. “Living room couch. She’s got school, and you’ve got a law career, and I know you’ll be talking to the middle of the night like it’s a sleepover if you stay in the same room.”

“Thank you! Thanks so much!”

“And you’re gonna be looking for apartments from the start, but I think that goes without saying.”

“Definitely. I wasn’t planning on couchsurfing forever. I mean, mostly because you’re the only option I have.”

“What, you haven’t asked Edgeworth?” He at least would have a spare bedroom, though Athena would probably eat him out of the house in a day.

“Wait, I could? Unless there’s like – there’s not any rules against a defense attorney bunking with a prosecutor, right?”

If there are rules like that, then Phoenix and Edgeworth have already broken most of them. There are very few actual rules, and Phoenix has broken most of those too. “No, though you’d be bunking with the Chief Prosecutor now, you know.”

“Oh man, really? I keep thinking about how I’ve come so far since I met you two, but I guess you’ve both come a long ways too!”

“The two of you have.” And Phoenix stuck as always, as ever. He’s what he’s made of himself and nothing more.

“Don’t say that, Mr Wright! I’ve been reading about what you’ve been doing. And you could take the Bar again, I’m sure! You definitely should. I passed! You would too! You did before!”

Phoenix snorts. “Thanks, but I’m not so sure. I’m a little less lucky than I was when I first passed.” Does he owe Iris and her blessing for passing the Bar on the first try? Probably, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that much.

“Still. I think you should. Then we’d have three lawyers, me and what did Trucy say his name was, Apollo! And you. We’d be an unbeatable team!”

It would be nice to have her optimism. He has no way of responding that she won’t hear his doubt, so he goes for the redirect. “You should let Edgeworth know you got your badge, even if you don’t ask him if you can crash at his place. He’d like to know how you’ve been doing, and I’m not sure if you’d see him in person any time soon. Chief Prosecutor stuff is keeping him really busy.” Worryingly busy, in fact. There’s a lot of corruption to clean up, Phoenix knows, but more and more he wonders if there’s something else, something on top of the base level of corruption that’s eating up all of Edgeworth’s time.

“I’ll email him. And then I’ll see you soon! This week! Two days! One plane ride away, Boss! And then it’s gonna be awesome, I just know it!”

After she hangs up, he stares at the dark floor, at the thin lines of the city lights seeping in around the window shades, for a long time. It would be nice, unfathomably so, if she was right. If the the constant expectation gnawing at the back of Phoenix’s skull was wrong. Let her be right, and for once, let everything – or even just something – turn out all right.

Edgeworth calls in the morning, causing Phoenix to realize something: he both worries when he doesn’t hear from Edgeworth, and when he does. He didn’t sleep well after Athena’s call, worrying about that too, and her, and this realization that he feels responsible for her like a father and that’s the last goddamn thing he wanted. “What’s up?” he asks through a yawn, and there is silence on the other end of the line, Edgeworth clearly reassessing whether Phoenix is the best person for whatever the problem is. Or maybe he still thinks Phoenix is the right person, but Saturday morning not the right time to have a serious conversation.

Then he sighs and says, “Wright, I have a… a favor to ask. A special request.”

“Ominous. So how can I help?” It’s not the way he would respond to anyone else; it’s a rule he’s had since he met Mia and started tangling with the fae, to never agree to any request without knowing the terms. But it’s Edgeworth. Phoenix sets different rules for him.

“I want you to clear one of my subordinates of suspicion.”

“Edgeworth, that’s like, the one thing I can’t do for you. I’m not a lawyer, remember? Haven’t been for longer than I ever was.”

“And you aren’t at all eager to return?”

“Eh.” Is he? What does he want to do? He doesn’t know anymore, hasn’t had time to ever figure it out. Who is he when he’s not trying to keep Kristoph from doing more harm, when not flailing to keep himself and Trucy afloat and alive?

(He’s the person that Edgeworth asks for help on investigations, an invitation extended again and again even when Phoenix thought for sure he would give up in the face of “not now”s and “someday”s, that he wouldn’t wait like he did for the now and the someday. And he’d liked those investigations, more than getting to show Trucy more of the world, more than spending time with Edgeworth. And for everything else there was, he had enjoyed jumping behind the defense’s bench with Apollo, for more reason than finally getting to tear Kristoph down.)

(Maybe he does know, and maybe what he knows is that he misses being an attorney.)

“With everything cleared up, you would be able to, and I can’t imagine you just continuing to delegate everything to others.”

Does Edgeworth know him too well? Maybe, but as long as he doesn’t point out that the reason he can’t imagine Phoenix leaving things to other people is because Phoenix is paranoid, suspicious, and laden with trust issues, Phoenix can live with it. “Athena called last night and was saying I should retake the Bar, too.”

“I received an email from her, as well. I’m inclined to agree with her in regards to you.”

“I’ll think about it. But who exactly is it that you’d be asking me to – defend?” There hasn’t been any news this week of prosecutors arrested for crimes. If something happened recently, it’s been on tight lockdown. And if it wasn’t recently, then what?

“You’ll recall the Blackquill case?”

“Oh,” Phoenix says.

That was a case on tight lockdown, details unknown to Phoenix, but whatever happened was damning for Prosecutor Blackquill, who pled guilty and was convicted in barely a few hours. And even if more information had been released, Phoenix probably wouldn’t have looked that far into it; even a year and a half after his disbarment, he was still struggling to keep from drowning, too preoccupied with himself and Trucy and Kristoph and no room to consider yet another murdering prosecutor. (How many of those have there been?)

“Yes. He will…” Edgeworth sighs. “He will be standing in court again, very soon. I want you to keep an eye on him.”

If it was anyone but Edgeworth speaking, Phoenix would assume that he was asking Phoenix whether Blackquill was human or fae, to look with the Sight and get answers. But it’s Edgeworth, and he probably doesn’t mean that. “So if he’s standing in court, do you mean his conviction was overturned – but if you’re asking me to clear him, then that means he hasn’t been…?”

“He will be standing in court, prosecuting, as a convict.”

Phoenix closes his eyes and considers flinging himself face-first into the couch. He heads for the kitchen instead. “Well,” he says. “That’s still not the worst or weirdest thing a chief prosecutor has done.”

Silence. He probably shouldn’t have said that. He definitely shouldn’t have said that. “I thought I was getting good at the piano thing,” Phoenix adds, and Edgeworth snorts, “but I mean, I guess this is a job I could do. Is there anything more you can tell me about Blackquill? Like if Apollo and Athena were to end up facing him in court.”

“Or if you were, should you get your badge back.” The silence stands for a few more seconds, Phoenix not wanting to agree to that, not wanting to get Edgeworth’s hopes up until he himself is sure, and Edgeworth adds, “He isn’t… pleasant, exactly.”

“That could mean a lot of things. Some people might say that about you, y’know.”

“Hmph. I’m sure some people might also say that about you. But I might compare him to Franziska: tolerates very little nonsense, does not suffer fools lightly, and has a very broad definition of what counts for foolishness. He’s studied psychology as a tactic for the courtroom and when he isn’t threatening, he’s manipulative. And if you were to defend him, he still insists quite stringently that he is in fact a murderer, though I know you have had clients of that sort before.”

And you were one of them, Phoenix thinks. “So, tough client, and tough prosecutor.” Sounds like someone else Phoenix knows. “Apollo could use some experience going up against a hostile prosecutor.” The most hostility he’s had to deal with has been witnesses – not to discount the ordeals that Crescend and Gavin made of those trials – but Klavier is far too fond of him. (Which Phoenix can’t complain about because that’s worked out for his purposes and also for the Jurist System trial case.) “And psychology, huh. You’ve got him, and I’ll have Athena.”

Edgeworth hums a noncommittal acknowledgement.

“You don’t paint a flattering picture of the guy you want defended, though.”

“You deserve to know as much as I can tell you. I didn’t know him well when he first joined the office, but it’s my understanding that six and a half years in jail has sharpened anything that was ever tempered about him.”

That sounds achingly familiar, but not because of any of the prosecutors that Phoenix knows. Seven years is a long time to ferment and grow painfully bitter. “I suppose that makes sense,” he says. “I’ll keep that all under advisement. Anything else?”

“There is…” Edgeworth sighs and clicks his tongue. “There are a number of absurd rumors I’ve collected about him from other inmates and guards. It’s nothing I would pay heed to, but…” He sighs again.

“But?”

“They call him a witch.”

“Edgeworth, one of these days you’re going to have to accept the truth staring you in the face that these things are way more likely than you think.”

“Actually, I believe they are much less likely than you think, and your life is not accurate to the demographics of this city.”

“You met Kay, Lang, that shapeshifter lady, Sebastian, his bastard of a father, Judge Courtney, and whatever else was happening there, all within one month.”

The silence stretches for so long that Phoenix has to check to make sure Edgeworth hasn’t hung up on him. He goes to the pantry and finds that Trucy ate the last of the cereal. “Fine,” Edgeworth says at last. “People with magic have a tendency to move in packs. I will give you that. But Blackquill is… very much a loner, and I’ve spoken with him a number of times and seen nothing to suggest that he isn’t normal.”

“I guess I’ll have to meet him and see for myself.” It’s funny, really; Edgeworth’s disdain for cries of magic at anyone or anything that breaks a narrow mold nearly stopped him from mentioning the thing that has the best guarantee at bringing Phoenix in on this venture.

“I’m hoping to find a case for him in the next few days. I’ll let you know once I do. And the next exams are being administered in May, so you should get to studying for that.”

“Did I say that I was retaking it?”

“You’re already signed up and paid for, so I would really prefer you don’t let that go to waste.”

Phoenix nearly drops the phone. “Edgeworth. Edgeworth, tell me you’re joking—”

“I would never.”

“Didn’t you need my signature? Are we really starting my new career with more falsified—”

“Speaking of, I’ve meant to let you know that your daughter is worryingly good at forging your signature, and you should probably have a talk with her about that sort of thing.”

“You used my daughter for crimes—!”

“I also considered buying Miss Maya dinner for it, though I didn’t know which of those options you would have preferred less.”

Oh. Oh, Edgeworth is serious about it, about Phoenix getting his badge back, if he had considered making a deal with Maya over it. “You could’ve at least warned me and given me more than I don’t know, two weeks, to study!”

“And would you have used that extra time effectively?”

Phoenix drops his head against the refrigerator. He doesn’t know why he thought he would win against Edgeworth. He’s not even sure why he bothered to fight. “Okay, first of all, fuck you, and secondly – fuck you!”

Edgeworth chuckles. “Prosecutor Blackquill and I will see you in court, Wright.”

#fic: the witches of los angeles #roddy fanfics #do i also put this under the original 'seelie of kurain' fic tag just so everything is organized or do i just say fuck it #ANYWAY BOIS WE'RE LIVE AND HEADING DOWN INTO HELL #fic: the seelie of kurain

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synnefo-nefeli · 6 years

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Strange Days Drabble: Clay and Apollo

Hey everyone. Just a little something I wrote up...not sure if this will go into Stranger Stories. I just wanted to write something about Pre-Strange Days when Clay and Apollo in college.

Title: Stranger Stories: Clay and Apollo

Pairings: one-sided Claypollo, if you count someone having difficulty sussing out their actual feelings.

Rating: PG-13, for 19 year olds, being 19 year olds lol.

He pulled the key from its hiding place in the back of the fuse panel, thankful as always that some RA or security guard hadn’t discovered the copied key. Most dorms at Ivy University had been upgraded to key card locks, but those were the nicer and pricier dorms with better security and a predominately Omega and female Beta population. And there was no place that Clay wanted to be further away from at the moment.

Apollo’s dormitory lay on the older part of the campus, built in the 1970s and forever trapped in that decade, with its painted cinder block walls, and old key and lock doors. His friend could have opted for one of the nicer, more modern dorms- Apollo’s student loans would have provided for that- but Apollo, determined to get out of school as quickly and with as little debt possible, chose the cheapest living space possible that his scholarships and part-time job at the school’s law library could cover.

No light spilled from under the door, and his texts to Apollo, announcing that Clay intended to crash at Apollo’s dorm remained unread.

Either Apollo was still at work or his friend’s was being distracted by some video game or anime. Regardless, if he was home or not, Apollo’s door was always open to Clay- as it always had been since the incident during their senior year of High School.

Clay’s extended family had arrived on his birthday, with marriage and breeding contract prospects for their heir. One of his uncles had actually arrived *with* the father of one of the candidates. The thought of being married off or prospect of having pups at the age of seventeen terrified him, and so Clay fled the first chance he had to Apollo’s room at the foster home.

He’d stayed there until his father had assured Clay, that he had postponed any talk about breeding contracts or marriage arrangements for the foreseeable future. That was 2 years ago, and he was well into college and of age...there was only so much longer Clay felt he could hold the vultures off his scent.

Clay fit the key into the lock and opened Apollo’s door, to find Apollo home, sitting on his bed with his laptop frantically typing away. The stacks of paper surrounding his friend and the stale take-out boxes strewn around the room indicated that Apollo was in ‘the zone” for a while now.

“You know, you should at least knock- I could have had a guest over,” Apollo mumbled, eyes not leaving the screen.

That statement made Clay laugh, the happy feeling a moment’s distraction from his current situation,

“Please- you’re a first year law student, who crammed his undergraduate into two years, and immediately started Law School a week after your Summer Undergrad Graduation. Also you work when you’re not in class or studying in the library- the likelihood of you screwing around- literally or figuratively,” Clay grinned, throwing his backpack, duffle, and supplies, into the corner of the dorm’s small bedroom “is nil.”

Apollo greeted that statement with an eyeroll, and him scooting over on the bed in invitation for Clay.

He clambered up onto Apollo’s skinny twin bed, displacing the papers and an empty soda can, to nuzzle his friend. Apollo made a weary sigh, but allowed it- Apollo always allowed Clay this sort of affection, and Clay despite having other Beta friends only sought out this sort of greeting from Apollo.

There was just something about his childhood friend that put Clay at ease, no matter how anxious or stormy Clay’s moods could become. Apollo, despite attributing the ability to Clay, had a away of bringing out the best in others.

Apollo kept typing, “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t have been up to something on my own-”

Clay leaned on Apollo’s narrow shoulder, “Mmm...you know that I wouldn’t care if you were doing that- it’s only natural. I’m an Alpha after all-”

The narrow shoulder shoved back at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?…” and went on typing, body posture allowing for Clay’s head to remain on Apollo’s shoulder while the other kept working.

“We-us Alphas and Omegas- used to mate out in the open in front of our packs...sex is a normal part of life, so why be shy about it? Wasn’t until you puritanical Betas became the majority population and spoiled all our fun….”

Apollo kept typing, failing to rise to Clay’s point,

“Once, some Beta diplomat to an Alpha kingdom nearly died of shock when he came into the throne room to treat, finding the King sitting up in his throne, cock out as their Omega concubines pleasured him. And it wasn’t a show of dominance or whatever, it was just commonplace in the court, that you just took care of things right then and there in the open. With a partner or your hand-”

“Damn it, Clay!” Apollo yelped suddenly pounding on the “backspace” of his keyboard, “I started writing what you were saying-” then he mumbled, “Now that’s an impression for whoever reads this…

‘Dear Hiring Manager…” Apollo pretended, ‘ I believe I am the most ideal candidate because of my experience with the Alpha King and his cock…’” he groaned, “I think I’d have to kill myself if I sent this out-”

Clay scanned Apollo’s screen...legal jargon there, ‘why believe I am the best candidate’ here… ‘my availability to work can be immediate…” then he remembered,

“Summer Associate applications?” Clay asked, “I thought you said that they weren’t due until next semester-”

“This one offers part-time during the semester and full-time summer associate positions…” Apollo said quickly, “if I get picked I’ll have a rolling 3-month contract, with possibility to work through school and be hired after law school...it’s a really prestigious and competitive program with one of the best defense lawyers in the area...and it pays as if I were a barred junior-associate attorney.”

Clay whistled at that, “That should take a sizable chunk out of your debt. Where is this?”

“Gavin and Co. Law Firm...it’s down town but that’s a small inconvenience to pay for a great opportunity. Mr. Gavin is turning out to be a legend…”

Clay noted both the excitement and waver in Apollo’s voice- he hadn’t sounded like that since finding out that his hero, Phoenix Wright, had been disbarred. It was good to hear that Apollo had found another lawyer to inspire him on his pursuit towards his dream of becoming an attorney.

Apollo shifted beneath him, to finally look up at him, dry-eyed from staring at a screen all day,

“You’re warm,” his friend noted, raising a hand to feel at Clay’s forehead, “you sick?”

Clay shook his head, “No...it’s just you know...that time of the season…” he looked at the time on Apollo’s computer. It was almost time to take his pills… he had to be more careful over the next few weeks. Take his suppressants, eat, rest, go to class, keep a low profile and not run into an Ome-

A muffled buzz came from the depths of his bag, Apollo stared at the items, most likely noticing them for the first time, “Not that I mind you crashing here, but who are you running from? Family or-”

Clay slunk back, almost sheepishly, his back hitting against the cold cinder block wall, “Ah. No one-” he rubbed at his neck- stupid of him to do so because he saw the muscles around Apollo’s eyes twitch and his friend subconsciously grab at the bracelet at his wrist,

He sighed, defeated, “Uhhh remember that cute Redhead from that party I dragged you to last spring? The one at the Rugby House?”

Apollo rolled his eyes, “Which one- the one with the ‘big rack’ or the one with the ‘big green eyes?’”

“Green Eyes…Cassandra” Clay stammered, “I kinda hooked up with her-”

“I know you did…” Apollo snorted, “I thought it was only a one-time thing with her…”

“Me too…” Clay swallowed, “and then the Spring Season hit when we were both in chem lab that afternoon…and the next thing I knew we were back at her place and I kinda…”

“Kinda what?” Apollo’s tone was exasperated as he turned his attention back to his typing, “don’t tell me you knotted in her…”

When Clay failed to respond, Apollo’s sigh was deep, “C’mon Clay, you have to be more responsible than that- I mean you’re the one who runs the moment your family starts badgering your dad about getting you a mate, yet the season comes and you go and knot up any Omega?”

Clay groaned, “I don’t know what happened- she just smiled at me and she smelled super good-” he buried his head in his hands, “you have no idea what hell I do through every four months...I think she used some sort of booster to up her pheromone game...I couldn’t resist her. One smile and the next thing I know, I’m under her-”

“I don’t need to the specifics-” Apollo coughed and then looked at Clay with concern, “She’s not pregnant is she?”

Clay shook his head, “No, she’s not...but she wants me to be hers for the season and I am really not interested in her-”

“Really?” Apollo’s tone of disbelief was sincere,

He rubbed at his neck, “I mean...I took care of her when her heat was bad and took her out a couple of times after our hook-up. She was hinting that she wanted us to continue, and I turned her down...she was cute and all; a good time where it mattered...but not someone I was interested in pursuing.”

Clay sighed, that was always the problem in the end. No matter how cute the Omega was or how much fun they had in bed, after the heat of the moment left, Clay found himself listless and uninterested.

His partners suddenly not measuring up to whatever odd standard Clay set for himself. A standard Clay was unsure if he even knew what he wanted, although a niggling thought tugged not for the first time at the back of his mind as he watched Apollo continue to work.

Things would be so much easier,if you had turned out to be an Omega…

Clay slid off the bed to grab the bag of assorted snacks he had stocked up on at the local Asian Grocery Store and 7-11 near campus. Apollo may frown at how unhealthy most of the snacks were, but Clay needed his comfort food and calories to get through mating season. Plus he’d brought some things he knew Apollo liked. A small offering for the imposition that Apollo would insist didn’t exist.

Apollo was family, the closest thing either of them had to a brother. They protected eachother, but Clay couldn’t help himself in times like these about how much his life would be set, had his friend presented as an Omega.

Not that his family would object to him being with a Beta guy, if Clay so wanted it, but- that was the problem...when he thought about Apollo in terms of being a Beta, Clay knew that his feelings for Apollo skewed towards the familial.

There was something, Clay supposed, alluring about binding Apollo to him and his family, if Apollo had been an Omega.

His dad would have certainly loved it...Clay knew his father- perpetually sullen since the day his own mate died; hanging on each day only for Clay’s sake- was disappointed when Clay assured him that Apollo was indeed a Beta. His dad loved Apollo, and would have loved to have had Apollo for a son-in-law, with grandchildren on the way for him to dote over.

Clay frowned at the thought. It would have been perfect...but it wasn’t meant to be. No use in impossibly daydreaming about having pups with Apollo. And that was before the messy feelings of how he really felt towards Apollo came up- did he want Apollo as his mate because Clay loved him romantically? Or was he only feeling this way towards Apollo because it was mating season, and Clay wanted an easy way to deal with stress of the season?

And if, Clay actually loved Apollo romantically, wanted Apollo sexually- there was the issue of progeny, Clay was the heir he would have to explain to his Beta husband why he needed to find an Omega to breed with...that his family wouldn’t accept adopting a child as Clay’s heir. Something, orphaned Apollo, raised in a predominately Beta community, would, not no matter how many ways Clay explained the little of his culture that interested Apollo, understand.

Clay pulled out a canned coffee and a bento box for himself and Apollo, deciding it was better to heat up their dinner then selfishly dwell on the inconveniences of Apollo’s Beta-ness .

“You okay?” Apollo asked, his eyes actually meeting Clay’s. Apollo set the laptop aside and slid off the bed, legs wobbling Apollo walked feeling back into them.

“Yeah,” Clay said handing Apollo one of the cans of coffee, “just thinking about what I need to get done over the next few weeks and how I’m going to do it without my rut bothering me,”

His friend eagerly cracked it open and chugged down the sugary caffeinated drink, “How can I help?”

By being my Omega? Clay shrugged, “Just make sure to kick my ass out of bed- these suppressants tend to make me sleep longer than usual, when I, y’know...don’t have an outlet.”

Apollo nodded, “I’ll let you know my schedule, so you can have some privacy-”

“Oh c’mon, Pollo, I am not going to beat it in your room and bed-”

Apollo snorted, “I hope not- I do have a shower, you know.”

Clay burst out laughing. Apollo only smirked and added, “I’ll expect you to clean the shower afterwards...”

Well that was certainly one way to deal with a major problem during mating season. It was safer here than jerking off in the gym’s showers or getting near any potentially in heat Omegas trying to burn off their heat through exercise.

“Thanks, Pollo. You’re the best.”

Apollo only hummed, stretching a bit and letting out a tired noise. Clay noted the way his friend’s faded sweatshirt rucked up to expose the skin of Apollo’s belly and the line of his left hip.

Clay swallowed and maneuvered around Apollo in the small space of the dorm to fish out his suppressants from backpack.

***

“How late are you planning to stay up?” They were back on Apollo’s bed and Clay was on his side, facing away from Apollo and the bright screen of the laptop. The warmth of Apollo’s body brushed against Clay’s overly sensitized skin.

“Not much later,” Apollo mumbled, “gotta check this one more time-”

“You said that an hour ago,” Clay said, “you should get some sleep and then look it over in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“I’m too paranoid that I’ll miss any reference to King Alphas and their dicks.”

Clay snorted and it earned him an a sharp elbow from Apollo, “Give me a few moments and I’ll be there to cuddle.”

It was said sarcastically; Apollo never actively encouraged Clay’s snuggling, rather he tolerated it after years of sleepovers where Clay ultimately “koala”ed onto Apollo while they slept. Clay had tried to explain what “spooning” meant, but it only served to fluster his best friend. So they left it at this- the unspoken agreement that Clay would ultimately spoon Apollo in their sleep.

“You’re too good to me,” Clay mumbled as he shifted around on the lumpy mattress. Beyond him the laptop closed and the nightstand lamp was shut; soon enough, Apollo was joining him under the covers, his back flush against Clay’s,

“What are friends for?” it came out half-earnestly, the rest a yawn.

Quiet for a few moments before Apollo spoke again, “I’ll help you with yours?”

“My what?” Clay turned to look over at his friend, whose eyes were already closed.

“Your internship application for the space center...you’ve started on it right?”

Whoops. He’d forgotten about the application. Normally he would blame it on the busyness of the season but he knew Apollo would spot the lie even with his eyes closed. It wasn’t his fault- the internship was all but his, Mr. Cosmos and Starbuck had told him that...Clay only had to formally apply so the University could count it towards Clay’s program, as well as make him and the Space Center eligible for student program grants.

A sigh, “I’ll help you start it after I turn in my application to Mr. Gavin and before your brain turns to hormonal mush.”

Clay wrapped his friend in a hug- Apollo already half asleep that he didn’t protest the koala coming early, “thanks, Pollo,” Clay grinned and nuzzled Apollo.

Sweet.

Clay’s eyes opened at the scent he’d caught. It was weak...but...sweet… he sat up, momentarily leaving Apollo to drift further into sleep, and sniffed again. The scent was gone now.

A few minutes passed, before Clay deemed the scent to be gone. He laid back down wondering what he had smelled.

Besides him, Apollo shifted, rolling towards Clay and curling up on his side. Apollo looked so small and sweet like this, and again Clay found himself wishing that his friend was an Omega...Apollo certainly had the build and look of an Omega.

He allowed Apollo to cuddle up to him, before Clay wrapped his arms around Apollo once more and settled them under the covers.

On the edge of sleep, Clay thought he smelled the sweet scent again, but soon he’d joined Apollo deep in sleep.

#ace attorney #clay terran #apollo justice #claypollo #strange days #omegaverse #abo #a/b/o verse #ficlet #fanfic #writing

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aceprosecuties · 7 years

Text

This is unedited and probably out of character but I wanted some Simon-Klav friendship with angsty and drunk Klavier. This is pure self-indulgence. Mentions of Kristoph, Apollo, Ema, and Daryan; could be read as slight Klapollo references. Approx. 2300 words. (I might at some point revisit this and make it longer idefk)

“Since when do you drink at the office?”

Once again, Simon found himself staying overly late at work – it had been dark for at least two hours, and he originally thought that he was the last person around. Hell, even Edgeworth had gone home already; Simon really wished his boss would just hire a new prosecutor already. Because of how short staffed they were, he and the more experienced prosecutors had been working overtime for more than a few weeks now, and it was starting to take a toll.

The paychecks were nice, but Simon would like some time to his own hobbies once in a while…which was why he was particularly happy about the fact that it was Friday and he actually had Saturday off.

He was about to finally leave, but noticed that Klavier Gavin’s light was on, and invited himself into his coworker’s office with barely a knock on the ajar door. When he did, he saw Klavier drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, hence why he asked his question. Klavier’s cheeks and nose were a little red, indicating that he had to have been drinking for some time now.

But his eyes were also red. And not in the drunk sort of way.

Klavier had shrugged at the initial inquiry, not even bothering to try and hide what he was doing. Instead, he just took another swig.

“…Maybe you should take it easy, Gavin-dono.” Simon walked over and pulled the bottle from Klavier’s hands. He met no resistance and so he put the bottle somewhere out of reach. “What is this all about?”

“…Herr Blackquill, it’s rude to come in without knocking,” Klavier slurred, echoing a sentiment that Simon had said more than a few times to him in the past.

“I’m aware, but I figured since you’ve done it to me so much I would return the favor now. Turnabout is fair play, you know,” Simon retorted, smirking. “But you have yet to answer my question.”

Klavier just stared at his empty hands, remaining silent and refusing to look up at Simon. Rather than try and press the topic further (for the time being, at least), Simon sighed and pulled out his phone, looking up the number to call a car.

“Well, I can’t just have you passing out here alone, so I’ll-”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Simon’s fingers stopped, his thumb hovering over the call button on his touchscreen. Although he was now staring dumbfounded at Klavier, his coworker still did not lift his gaze. “…Why the hell would you ever ask something as ridiculous as that?”

Again, Klavier shrugged, as if he was trying to pass off such a deep question as an innocuous query. When he said nothing else, Simon knew what he had to do – he pressed the call button on his phone, asking for a car to drive him from the prosecutor’s office to his own apartment.

“Alright, let’s go.” While he did want to continue that conversation, he didn’t want to force anything right now, so he just held his hand out for Klavier, who finally looked at him confusedly. “Obviously I’m not going to leave you here by yourself. Or in your own apartment, by the way. So you’re coming back with me.”

Surprisingly, Klavier didn’t object. Maybe he was too tired to…or too drunk…or both. However, when he took Simon’s hand he still managed to stumble after standing up, and looked alarmingly pale when he tried to move. “…I need to sit back down.”

“You sit back down and we’ll end up staying here all night.”

But Klavier refused to move. With an irritated sigh, Simon ended up doing something that made him more than grateful for the fact that no one else was around right now: he brought one of his arms under Klavier’s knees and placed the other on the man’s back, scooping him up so that Simon was carrying him, bridal-style.

“H-Herr Blackquill, what are you-!”

“You throw up on this coat and I’m billing you for the dry cleaning,” Simon interrupted. Klavier’s hands locked around his neck for support, and luckily Simon heard no further protest. He carried Klavier to the elevator and down, not putting him down until their car had eventually arrived. And when he did, it was with a shocking amount of care, almost as if he was afraid that handling Klavier too roughly would somehow break him.

He hopped into the back seat as well, not even minding when Klavier put his head on Simon’s shoulder to try and use it as some sort of uncomfortable pillow.

Simon was expecting him to pass out or something, but heard Klavier speak softly after a few moments of driving in silence. “Why did Apollo leave?”

“Justice-dono?” Simon hadn’t expected Klavier to use the defense attorney’s real name rather than his affectionate nickname, and he tried to angle his head enough so that he could maybe catch a glimpse of Klavier’s face. “Athena told me that he was helping Sahdmadhi-dono rebuild the legal system in Khura’in. Did…he not tell you?”

“Sort of. It’s been hard to get in contact with him…” Klavier trailed off. “I don’t think he really cares, anyway. He’s seemed…annoyed with me lately, for some reason.” Klavier didn’t know if he was reading too much into it or if he had greatly upset Apollo somehow. “Maybe he’s been talking more with the Fräulein Detective…” Ema also left for Khura’in without so much as a call or notification.

It all made Klavier feel very lonely. And disregarded.

“Justice-dono and Skye-dono have been very busy. I wouldn’t look too into it.” Still though, did Apollo not even give Klavier a courtesy call…? That would seem uncharacteristically…thoughtless of him, especially given how important he was to Klavier.

“Maybe…”

Klavier again trailed off, and Simon wondered if he could get Apollo’s number from Athena…

When they arrived at Simon’s apartment building, Simon once again carried Klavier; it was a bit obnoxious trying to go up the stairs and open the door, but he managed well enough. He placed Klavier on his couch gently, and was about to go get some asprin and water but was stopped when Klavier all of a sudden grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t leave.”

“I was just going-”

“Please…don’t leave me alone like everyone else.”

That was alarming. Simon motioned for Klavier to make room on the couch, and sat down, facing the fellow prosecutor. “Klavier. Talk to me.”

“…It’s just…” Klavier took in a shaky breath – it was obvious he was trying to hold back tears, and he hugged himself as if that could make all of his pain and fears suddenly go away. “Everyone I care about…leaves. Herr Forehead, the Fräulein Detective, my bandmates, Daryan…” In his mind, Daryan deserved a separate mention from the rest of his band, given his particular importance to Klavier.

He again inhaled, stiffening as he said the next name: “…Kristoph…”

Simon held his breath – he remembered Kristoph. He never really got to meet him, but there were enough rumors around the prison about the man: despite there being frightening mobsters and assassins and gangsters incarcerated, Kristoph was one of the most feared. People called him “the Devil” since he – much like the fallen angel Lucifer – had a beautiful face and a silver tongue and a poisonous smile that could supposedly kill you as soon as you looked at it. He remained in solitary for the most part, though Simon was one who was actually able to see him after his second trial – Kristoph seemed unhinged and mad, screaming about betrayal and Phoenix Wright.

“People compare me to him, you know.” As Simon was mentally imagining the elder Gavin, Klavier spoke again. “They don’t always say it, but I can see it. The way they look at me sometimes. Herr Wright still hates me because he sees Kristoph, I know it.”

“Klavier that’s-”

“Maybe that’s why Apollo didn’t even bother explaining things to me,” Klavier continued, finally allowing his fears and sadness to have a voice. “He thinks I’m just like him, deep down.” Tears were flowing from his eyes now, and he laughed, though there was no joy in it. “It’s my own fault, for keeping this damn hairstyle. I just…couldn’t change it. I couldn’t…”

His words devolved into incoherent sobs. His shoulders shook and his body trembled, and Simon didn’t know exactly what to do to comfort him.

“Klavier…if anyone actually knew you, they’d know that you’re nothing like your brother.”

“Then why do they all leave, Simon? Do they all hate me? Are they afraid I’ll end up like him eventually? Kris…he was good once…he was.” Klavier told himself that every single day since Kristoph went to jail, because thinking the opposite was far too painful. Again he became hysterical, once in a while just muttering his brother’s name in an anguished whisper.

Simon grabbed Klavier’s shoulders tightly, forcing the man to look at him. “You are nothing like him,” he repeated. He didn’t have an answer as to why everyone seemed to leave though…he didn’t know what to say. “You need to believe that, regardless of everyone else, Klavier.”

“But-”

“Silence.” Simon’s catchphrase did not have its usual harshness, but Klavier still winced. Simon wasn’t good at this, he knew; he wasn’t the best person to go to for comfort, but he could at least try and alleviate some of Klavier’s fears. “I haven’t left, have I?”

Klavier shook his head.

“Right. And it’s because I know that this comparison is rubbish.”

Klavier appeared to calm down, but otherwise remained unconvinced. Simon stood up and when Klavier opened his mouth to speak, he just said, “I need to get you some asprin and water otherwise you will not be able to function in the morning. I’ll be right back.”

Simon left to head to his bathroom. Unfortunately, he was in there longer than he originally thought, because he was unable to find the medicine in its usual spot. When he finally emerged, he noticed that Klavier was no longer on the couch.

He heard soft crying from his bedroom.

And when Simon entered, the first thing he noticed was his floor: covered in blond hair and droplets of blood.

“Klavier!”

Klavier was sitting at his desk chair, and somehow had had enough coordination to grab his katana from off its place on the wall – he was holding the sword by the blade as he tried to cut off pieces of his hair. Blood was flowing from his hands down his arms and dripping onto Simon’s floor, but Klavier didn’t seem to notice. Blame it on the drink numbing the physical pain.

Simon rushed over and forced Klavier away from the katana as quickly as possible without hurting his hands more. “Fuck, Klavier, what were you thinking?” His voice was amplified due to his worry, and he tossed his sword away. He knelt down and grabbed Klavier’s hands in his own; they were sliced by the palms and the fingers.

“Do not move.”

Simon ran back to his bathroom and quickly located some antiseptic and bandages before rushing back, grateful that Klavier was in the same spot he left him in. Once again, Simon knelt down; he wiped away the excess blood before putting the antiseptic on the wounds. “Why did you do this?”

“I can’t look like him anymore. I just…needed to cut it.” Klavier’s voice was soft and vulnerable, like a child after getting caught doing something he knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“By using my katana and maiming your own hands?”

“I’m sorry…I just was afraid I would change my mind if I didn’t do it now…”

Simon sighed as he wrapped the bandages around Klavier’s hands. When he looked up, Klavier’s cheeks were wet with tears and his hair was disheveled and uneven – he did not do a very good job with his impromptu haircut. “My sword is not meant for hair, Klavier. These injuries could have been far worse.”

“Sorry,” Klavier repeated.

Simon finished up his hands and told Klavier to stay again. He started looking through his desk drawers until he found what he wanted: a pair of scissors. After grabbing them, he stood and positioned himself behind Klavier, gently grabbing hold of some of the hair that managed to survive the chop.

“You might need to go to an actual hairdresser tomorrow but I can at least try and fix this up a little bit.”

And Simon snipped and snipped, trying his best to even out Klavier’s hair as best as possible, until it no longer even went past his shoulders. When he finished, Klavier’s hair didn’t look bad, but it definitely would require some reshaping in order to fit Klavier’s personality.

“Now…into the bed.”

Klavier turned and looked at Simon with questioning eyes. “I’m not even okay with leaving you in a different room, so you’ll stay in my bed.”

“But what about you?”

“I usually sleep on the floor anyway, so this is fine.”

Simon helped Klavier up, stripped him of his jacket and jewelry, and tucked him into his bed, but not before finally forcing him to take asprin and drink some water.

“You don’t have to worry about me leaving, you know,” Simon whispered after Klavier closed his eyes. “As much as you annoy me sometimes…you’re my friend.”

Before going to sleep, Simon texted Athena to get some very important information.

And the next time Apollo Justice checked his voicemail, he was met with a message from a very angry Simon Blackquill ordering him to call Klavier otherwise he would “personally fly to Khura’in with the goal of relieving Apollo’s head from his shoulders.”

#ace attorney #simon blackquill #klavier gavin #simon and klavier #my writings #prosecutors #listen I kind of gave up by the end sorry it isn't very detailed or anything #and I might revisit it but here it is for now #./shrugs #ALSO IDK HOW TO KLAVIER #esp angsty klav #also I'm not sure if Simon is really IC here either #idk I feel weird about this one #but yeah this is self-indulgent like crazy

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