Classification Of Ace Attorney Official Art

redraw of an old saiou drawing i did years ago bc i love they

i will never not be mad that x6-88 consistently gets so blatantly mischaracterized. if you’ve ever fallen from high up inside the institute on accident, you know he’s one sarcastic bitch when it suits him, and i love him for that. he’s genuinely so funny at times, he just has such a flat tone and expression that it goes right over people’s heads. but he delivers such scathing roasts in such a calm manner that i end up wheezing laughing any time i have him as a companion. but there’s a lot more to him than just being another “patrolling the mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter”-NCR-trooper-level-repetitive no-name courser.

he’s afraid of heights, and certainly doesn’t like flying, which given how extremely he exercises caution, is perfectly in character. he gets jumpy and worries almost constantly, even if he’s outwardly very calm and collected. he’s ignorant with regards to the old world, but he does express his imagination at times, even if it’s 99.9% practically-focused and only really extends to his own experience and the knowledge of the institute. but he has so many traits that aren’t in line with the stiff representation the fandom gives him. he actually has a lot of traits that would get most synths wiped if they were caught displaying them in the institute. i do still think they did him extremely, viciously, disrespectfully dirty in his writing (which is a whole rant of its own), but he still has more characterization than a lot of the fandom gives him credit for.

he’s smooth-talking, calm, and collected upon initial impression, but he’s also awkward and sheepish and embarrassed to admit anything personal to you (even just that he admires you) most of the time once you start getting close to him. he’s also a worry wart, anxious about your approval, ashamed and almost mortified if you choose to scold him for doubting you, and it’s clear that he’s seeking validation specifically from you even if he seems so self assured all the rest of the time, to the point of claiming boredom during combat. he’s this blade-lookalike, terminator type who kicks ass and takes names, but who’s afraid of heights and is prissy about the surface world. he seems to enjoy when you’re a mean vindictive bastard, but not within the institute even when scientists have literally just undermined father and threatened the proper functioning of the institute. he’s so reserved in his praise in front of you during/after libertalia, but as you walk around the institute on your own, you find out from other coursers that he’s been talking about you to them, telling them about you and praising your fighting abilities. and given how many of these coursers say it, it almost seems like he’s been gushing about working with you (at least, in his own way) while you’ve been apart. he’s talked about as the best of the best basically, and since he’s bragging about you, the other coursers think you’re cool. which, obviously you can infer a few things about him from this whole thing: he’s a little bit of a gossip (just a little, plus it’s positive); he’s not only respected, but provides his own opinions to the others and that matters to them, his opinion of you matters to the other resident badasses; once you impress him, he likes you, enough to tell the others about you and your performance in the field.

the bigger shock is that he openly praised you when reporting to justin ayo of all people, which ayo will tell you while also claiming that x6-88 “does not give praise lightly. well done.”

all of these things build a character. he deserved better characterization, better development, better treatment of his character, all of that and more, but the bare bones are there if you’re willing to look.

it just makes me irritable when he gets so poorly characterized by people who claim to like him. i don’t even know x6-88 that well compared to some other characters but i know that much.

Literally one of the most designs ever in danganronpa. To me

Aizawa + age regressor! Reader headcanons (gender neutral as always!!)

So…. I’m nervous posting this one. It could either be very well received or I could be horribly harassed, so I’ll educate you guys some.

What is age regression? Age regression (agere) is when someone, due to trauma, reverts to a mental state and age of a child; usually the age before the childhood trauma was experienced. It is completely SFW and in no way will I tolerate any sexual/ rude comments. You can be mean under any other post of mine, but I will not tolerate any form of hate under this post. My page is a safe space for everyone, I intend to keep it that way and will not hesitate to block anyone I see necessary.

You are more than welcome to leave and not read, but if you want to read then welcome!!

Cw: mentions of abuse/trauma, usage of “daddy, dada” in non sexual context, very brief mention of kink ( literally just the work kink like twice), feelings of shame/embarrassment for regressing

- telling shota you regress isn’t something you planned on doing, why would you? It’s embarrassing that you need to act like a toddler to be able to cope with the stress in your life.

- he finds out when he comes home and you’re deep in headspace, he scares you because you know he shouldn’t see you like this and you burst into tears

- he is immediately worried, trying to get answers from you. The thing is, after working with kids and being a pro hero for so many years he knows what he sees when he looks in your eyes, he isn’t angry or disgusted at all.

“Oh… my poor baby got spooked, huh? I’m sorry, little one.”

- you’re confused, expecting him to hurt you like you’re used to, but his soothing voice and calm demeanor has you calming down from your hysterics. All you can do is hold your stuffie and nod.

- after that day, you’re much more open with him. Even giving him names when you’re regressed, that’s how he knows you truly trust him.

“Dada, can you help me pwease?”

“Of course he can, kiddo. What do you need?”

- he takes every new discovery of your headspace in stride, the hour long breakdowns and the very happy days

“Shh,, I’m here angel. Daddy’s got you.”

“Oh look at you! I’m so happy my baby is happy.”

- if you want gear, he gets you gear!!

“You keep looking at that sippy cup/bottle/pacifier, love. If you want it put it in the cart.”

“No, I don’t need it.”

(He sneaks it in the cart, anyways)

- he works with you that it’s okay and normal to regress, and helps you into your headspace

“It’s weird, and you’re gonna judge me and think I’m gross.”

“It’s not weird, I would never think you’re gross for the way you need to cope.”

- he takes you being nonverbal in stride too

*incoherent baby babbles*

“Oh, yeah?? Then what happened? No way. Tell me more, little one”

- in public and start to slip? No worries, he knows how to help you and keep it discreet per your request

“Hmm, how about we go get ice cream. Sound good? Knew it would, hold my hand when crossing the street angel.”

- if you wake up from a nightmare and immediately regress, he’s there to hold and comfort you

“Hey hey,, shhh. It’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore. Dadas here now, okay? How’s a bottle of warm milk sound, baby”

- hate online is a huge thing regressors face, so what would he do if you’re scrolling through the agere tag and see someone calling a regressor and their caregiver gross and playing into kink??

“Turn that off, no more screen time okay? No no, don’t listen to them. You know what you need, not them. No, love. You aren’t gross or weird. I love you to the moon and back.”

- all in all, he’d be very loving and supportive!!! He would definitely go through a learning curve of what you specifically need, but he’d be such a good caregiver I just know it!!

Remember, if you regress you are soooo valid and loved!! It’s not gross or a kink, and I’m happy you found a healthy way to cope :)

Let me know if you want more of this kinda stuff?? And I am taking requests!! If my asks aren't working (they should be on!!) then just shoot me a dm or comment :)

sometimes your programmer bf just wants to infodump so you listen even if you don't understand like 70% of what he's saying

base author

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"Even if I wanted you to forgive me, I really hope you won't."

Chapter 11: The darkness, Amalgamate by DoctorHaifisch or @jamieprimack on tumblr

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OMG GUYS THIS FIC LITERALLY MADE ME SCEECH OUT LOUD WHILE READING IT, ITS SO GOOD!!!!

This scene in particular is one of my many favourites, honestly I have too many favourites..

I'm probably wrong but I like to imagine this scene with Kokichi slow increase in his wardrobe as to sort of depict Kaitos slow succumb to the darkness with the way he views Kokichi becomes increasingly negative because Kokichi, to him is becoming increasingly incomprehensible and antagonistic..

Idk how to really explain that but yeah..

Tldr; this fic has driven me MAD

FORGIVENESS. — aizawa shouta x male reader

wc: 2.1k

WARNING: dirty talk (sho has the filthiest mouth ever :O), choking (brief), manhandling, slapping, face-grabbing, degradation/humiliation, semi-public sex, frottage, blowjob mention, creampie, ruined orgasm

genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, cunt, pussy (even though these terms are used the readers genitals are ambiguous)

a/n: UMM I THINK I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE…….. DIALOGUE no one talks about how embarrassing it is to write this stuff outtttt my face is burning

“I just want to know why.” Aizawa says, hunched over with his hands in his pockets. You can see how tense his shoulders are, and the furrow of his brows almost makes you want to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. In the middle of Musutafu’s central police station, you sit in an uncomfortably stiff chair that digs into your thighs, the plastic all but holding you in place. It wasn’t even your fault— Okay, maybe throwing the first punch was your fault. And ignoring Shouta’s dire instructions to stay out of trouble. And maybe you deserve a slap on the wrist for instigating….But what was a broken leg to a regeneration quirk?

And maybe the whole argument-in-front-of-the-police thing wasn’t very smart either. So what, you’re a big boy. You can handle yourself, you don’t need Shouta’s saving.

“He’ll live.” Is all you say, watching Shouta’s jaw clench. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he nods once, crossing his arms over his chest. Through his black shirt, though baggy, you can see the swell of his biceps as they rest on his opposing knuckles. And because you just can’t help yourself, you grumble, “Bitch deserved it anyway.”

“Right..” He laughs, almost in disbelief, as he signs something you can’t quite make out at the reception table. Then he turns to you and grabs your arm, tightening his grip as he walks you out the station. You have the urge to run, to scramble out of his grasp and go as far as your legs will take you. To your left, a police officer looks ready to ask you more questions but he’s interrupted before he can even take an opening breath. “He’s with me, I got it handled.”

You’re fucked.

“Airheaded little boys and bars don’t mix,” He makes a passing comment, opening the passenger's seat to his car and hastily pushing you in. Usually, the casual dominance of his large, veiny hands buckling your seatbelt for you would have you swooning, raising your chin to steal a kiss on his stubbled cheek with a saccharine smile. Instead, you turn your head away, watching Shouta close the door and briskly walk to the driver’s seat, and from there he sits with bristle, moving his hair out of his handsome face. His eyes remain heavy-lidded, dark circles cascading into deep shadows around his tired eyes. “Do you—“

“I know you can’t say the same for yourself, but I handle myself just fine.” You feel quite proud of yourself for that one, crossing your arms over your chest and setting your jaw— just like you’d seen the hero do before.

“Aht, what do I always say about speaking over me?” Aizawa’s grip on your jaw tightens, squeezing your cheeks and pushing your lips together. You look much sweeter like this, quiet and anticipating as you look at him with wide eyes. His dark eyes are even darker, stone cold and unrelenting— but you can see a trickle of red light gleam through them. “Repeat it.”

“‘M’not sh’posed sh’to…” And part of you wants to ignore how the sadistic quirk of his lips upturns as you speak, but the brat in you just can’t let it go. You roll your eyes, averting your gaze as if the traffic lights are the most entertaining things you’ve seen in a while.

“Oh, so you can listen,” You just choose not to. His grip loosens as he pulls out the parking lot, driving in silence.

Save for the occasional blinker signal sound as he drives— wherever you’re going isn’t home, you’d realized after a particularly sharp turn into a vacant lot. During the drive, Aizawa seems to have collected himself, his long, dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail that trickled down his shoulders. Evidently, he didn’t want to drive angry, and most certainly didn’t want to punish you while angry. “Need me to pound some sense into you, baby? Knock those bratty thoughts right outta that pretty head of yours?”

A high whine threatens to escape your throat, Shouta reaching over to grab your throat and nip at your lips, trailing hot, wet kisses and bites down to your chin and throat. He seems to move your body so easily, manhandling you into the perfect position to be used, into positions that have you whining and moaning like a slut. Your legs spread across his lap, and had his seat not been lowered, you’d surely have smacked your head into the ceiling.

It’s embarrassing, all it takes is a few kisses and bites to have you rutting in his arms, desperate to blow off steam and even more desperate for him. Aizawa’s hands rest at your hips, holding you down while he grinds into you slowly, like he’s fucking you, save for the layers of clothes in the way. You click your tongue, fingers exploring the dark sea of hair framing his face. You go to pull, wrapping the locks around your fingers, but your efforts are fruitless.

“You wanna touch? That’s cute. Ask for it, I know you can use your manners, gonna ask to touch me, baby?” He whispers in your ear, his voice deep and gruff and stern. It’s completely rhetorical, he’s demanding you ask. The low purr of his voice sends shivers down your spine, instinctively you move to touch between your thighs, to feel pressure where you need it, but you can’t.

Because Shouta stops you with his stupidly large and strong hands. Because Shouta’s gaze is stern and downright scary. Because Shouta’s dick could be inches down your throat by now, had you just been a good boy, and the promise of that in the future makes you want to pause. Still, you groan, because how dare he deprive you of his dick. How dare he let you sit there, drooling for it and whiney as if that’s not evidence enough.

“You just needed some attention, didn’t you?” Aizawa purrs, unbuttoning your clingy jeans and pulling them past the swell of your ass to place a harsh smack straight across it. You jerk forward, face falling into his shoulder as he laughs at you, condescending and evil and mean. “Needed Daddy to hold your hand, whisper a few pretty words in your ears and give that greedy pussy a stern talkin’ to.”

“Don’t— don’t call it that,” You whisper, weak in the knees and your limbs feel like jello.

“Why not? That’s what it is, isn’t it? Always so ready and pretty, always aching for Daddy’s tongue, fingers.. his cock. Got a perfect pussy on my boy, don’t I? S’a perfect fit.”

His dick springs to life, through the fly of his comfortable pants and twitching against his matching black sweatshirt. Your mouth waters, watching as the brown-pink tip leaks precum, a particularly pretty vein disappearing into the head and wrapping around his shaft. You want to trace it with your tongue, drool all over it and have him force it down your throat while you cry and moan. Knowing Shouta, he’d pinch your nose and watch you struggle to breathe with a sweet smile on his face.

You can hear the faint click of the center console organizer closing, and the loud squelch of lube pouring, but you don’t expect the cool sensation of it being rubbed into your skin. It feels nice against the blazing smack from earlier, but all you can think of is how obscene you must look, whining in your Daddy’s arms while he prods at your hole and squeezes handfuls of your ass. Cool air brushes against your hole, you’re spread out for anyone to see, back arched while you push back on his fingers and moan like a whore.

“Such a greedy hole,” Shouta tuts, smacking your ass once more as a warning to get you to stop moving. You both know if he wanted to he could simply grab your hips, hold you in place and finger your brains out, but he wants you to keep your composure yourself. You said it, anyways. You can handle yourself just fine. “Gonna let me fuck this cunt stupid, baby? Stretch you out like you need it. Don’t rush.”

His fingers curl inside you, moans bubbling in your throat as your hips buck forward, your front clothed and aching. Your eyes roll back, a knot forming in your stomach as your abdomen clenches and his fingers thrust into the same sweet spot over and over and over. You mewl and cry, blabbering nonsense into his ears while he nips at your cheek, calling you a slut for liking this so much, for trying to take his fingers deeper, even once they’ve reached the final knuckle.

“Never. Fuckin’. Satisfied.” He enunciates with particularly sharp thrusts before slowly sliding his fingers out of you, feeling your hole wink around nothing, empty once again. He wipes the remaining lube on his fingers onto your face, watching as your watery eyes blink in delayed confusion. He smiles, sadistically sweet before slapping you across the cheek and pushing his fingers into your mouth, watching your lips curl into a dopey smile. Still, you’re empty.

Too empty.

“Wait.. wait.. Sho’, wan’ more.. c‘mon, give it t’me, please! I can— M’your good boy, m’a good boy..” You sob, wailing in his cock as he pushes his head against your hole. You wriggle down, watching as his strong hands tighten around your waist. He holds you there, thrusting up into your hole to use you like a fleshlight, groaning as your warmth wraps around his big dick, and kisses his tip with velvet.

You squeal, eyes scrunched closed as he raises you up and down as if you weigh nothing, an aching burn in your thighs as you struggle to push down onto his cock.

“Shut up, if they catch you taking a Pro-Hero’s dick like some whore that’s all you’ll ever be known for,” He gasps, spreading your cheeks apart to watch his cock disappear inside you through the side-view mirror. Sticky precum holds you two together, making a particularly sloppy sound when he pulls out completely, then slams back in. “But you’d like that wouldn’t you? Wanna be passed around at an agency, see how many loads you can take in that fuckin’ cunt.”

“M’sorry, Shou— M’sorry Daddy, please..!”

“You’ll take what I give you, brat,” His thrusts grow sluggish and sloppy as you crash into him and pant in his ear, tears streaming down your pretty face as every coherent thought leaves your brain. All you can muster out are jumbled pleas, toes curling as you grab his shirt— how slutty you must look while he’s still fully clothed. “You can handle yourself, right? You’ll cum on this dick with no hands, let Daddy fuck a load into you while you cum since you think you’re such a big boy.”

The knot in your abdomen tightens, your hole fluttering around his cock as Shouta moans, and you feel your body shutter as it briefly goes numb. You’re cumming, your head falls forward as he uses you like a fucktoy, bouncing in his lap with tiny, “Uh, uh, uh”‘s. Your hole grips him like a vice, swallowing his cock impossibly deep until you feel warmth flood your stomach, but before you can ride the high of getting your release, Shouta shoves you down at the hilt of his dick, pumping rope after rope inside you.

You want to cry, ball your hands into fists and beat at his chest because of course, you’re not allowed to cum. Of course, your orgasm is ruined and he gets to huff out satisfied breaths.

So mean.

“I know,” He sighs, breathless and tired as he slowly lifts you off his cock, hissing at the sensitivity. You let him do it, clawing at his shirt with a newfound lack of strength, whining as he catches the cum leaking out of you and pushes it back into your spent hole. He squeezes your ass one last time before pulling your pants and underwear back up, buttoning your jeans as if he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you high and dry. “I’m so mean, so mean. I’ll make it up to you.”

Too fucked out to say anything, you let him situate you back in the passengers seat, watching as he buckles your seatbelt for you. Whining, you grab his wrist, letting a sleepy smile grace your lips as he kisses your cheek. You had a lot to talk about once you got home, but he’d let you sleep for now.

“Brat.” He hums, nothing but love in his voice.