#he's not even a good prosecutor lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

defectivevillain · 4 months

Text

professional courtesy

pairing: Miles Edgeworth/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

*reader is racially ambiguous, pronouns are unspecified, and physical descriptors aren't used*

summary:

Miles Edgeworth always has the most recent evidence and an updated autopsy report when he prosecutes a case. His secret? You: a talented LAPD detective with no honest concept of “time off work.”

word count: 3.5k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sleep deprivation, fatigue

This snippet is focused on Miles Edgeworth/Reader and the dynamic can be perceived as romantic or platonic. The reader is a detective employed at the LAPD. The reader is also racially ambiguous and gender is unspecified.

Since this fic is, well, fiction, some parts may be unrealistic. Keep that in mind before you read. (For example, this takes place in a rather unrealistic universe in which Miles Edgeworth isn’t in love with Phoenix Wright. lol.)

You’ve been working in the Criminal Affairs Department at the Los Angeles Police Department for a few years now. You started out as a wide-eyed rookie, but within a few weeks, you quickly learned that detective work isn’t the perfect, harmless job you thought it was. You still love your position, of course, but you’ve investigated rather gruesome cases in your time at the LAPD. Now, you find yourself accustomed to the scent of formaldehyde and the sight of blood splattered across skin.

Through your position at the LAPD as an investigator, you’ve met your fair share of interesting characters—namely, defense attorneys and prosecutors. Unfortunately, interaction with legal professionals comes hand-in-hand with your investigations. You can’t remember the last time you had the pleasure of performing an independent investigation. You’re almost always hindered by a prosecutor breathing down your neck or a defense attorney frantically pressing you for evidence you don’t have. The constant presence of overbearing lawyers is just something you’ve grown used to.

They aren’t all so bad, you think to yourself. Miles Edgeworth, Klavier Gavin, Simon Blackquill, and Nahyuta Sadmadhi are all rather unique individuals, but they care about justice and aren’t falling prey to the dark age of the law. You enjoy working with all of them, even when Klavier can’t shut up about his latest concert or Simon’s hawk constantly uses your head as a perch. Truthfully, Miles Edgeworth is the most tolerable of the group—but you’d never admit that aloud.

You’re in your office one night, reviewing some paperwork and thinking about the recent case you were assigned, when you hear a knock on the door. You give the person permission to enter and the door falls open, revealing Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth himself. He’s wearing his typical prosecutor garb—his burgundy-maroon suit and cravat. Glasses are perched on his nose and he pushes them up a little. “Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth,” you remark, blinking at him. “Good to see you.”

“And you.” The prosecutor responds, his arms crossed over his chest as his gaze flits about your office. You suddenly feel strangely self-conscious, despite the knowledge that your office is very sparsely decorated. There’s an award mounted on the wall from last year and a small photo of you and your friends on your desk, but that’s about the extent of your decorations.

“Are you here for the updated autopsy report?” You ask, deciding to cut to the chase. From what you know of the prosecutor, he doesn’t quite enjoy small talk. Indeed, Edgeworth looks relieved at the thought of being spared from casual conversation; he then nods at your question. You sigh and open your desk drawer, procuring the newest autopsy report. You hold it out to him and he takes it with a murmured thanks. The prosecutor’s eyes are locked on the paper as he takes in the new information. You watch him for a few seconds, before taking the opportunity to rub your eyes roughly. You’re rather tired, you have to admit. You should’ve gone home hours ago.

“Detective.” You flinch, opening your eyes to find Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth staring at you with a blank expression. You’re briefly hit with an intense wave of embarrassment at the thought of zoning out in front of the Chief Prosecutor himself. “The commissioner didn’t send you home,” the prosecutor remarks. You think his statement is meant to be a question, despite the fact that his tone doesn’t fluctuate from his typical flat affect.

“Well, he did,” you grimace, remembering his demands for you to return home immediately. He’d be furious with you right now. In fact, the commissioner pulled you aside a few weeks ago to inquire about your “workaholic tendencies.” You meant to take him seriously and even assured him that you’d start to leave work on time instead of staying late. But here you are—sitting in your office late at night with your findings from your after-hours investigation.

“Yet, you’re still here.” Edgeworth remarks with an intent gaze. Somehow, his frown only seems to deepen.

“Yes, well, I… felt like something was missing,” you decide to admit. The prosecutor is trustworthy. Besides, you’re sure he has much better things to do than report you to the commissioner. The notion then reminds you of Dick Gumshoe—particularly, a conversation you had with him the other day about his much-to-be-desired diet of instant noodles. You shake your head in a half-hearted attempt to clear your thoughts. “Here, look at these.” You pull papers from the file on your desk and extend them to him. Edgeworth’s gaze follows your gesture and his eyebrows furrow.

“The suspect’s fingerprints on the corpse,” Edgeworth remarks blankly. “Yes.” His eyebrows furrow. The prosecutor is evidently wondering why you’re pointing that out, considering the evidence is extremely self-explanatory. You take a deep breath.

“Look at the edge here,” you suggest, pointing to the very edge of the photo in question. It’s just barely visible and you watch as Edgeworth squints at the photograph for a long moment. For a second, it looks as if he’s not seeing it. You’re close to pointing the area out again when his eyes widen in realization.

“Powder,” Edgeworth realizes aloud. He crosses his arms over his chest and falls back into his unusually straight posture. His fingers tap against the crook of his arm rhythmically, in what you guess to be a restless gesture. “The prints were transplanted.”

“I believe so.” You nod.

The prosecutor frowns and looks askance. He seems to deliberate for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure…?” You respond, thrown off by the ambiguity of the statement. The prosecutor explains the task he’d like you to perform and you begin to understand. Acting on his orders shouldn’t take too long, hopefully. However, you are in a time crunch—what with the trial being scheduled for tomorrow morning. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth leaves you with a murmured word of gratitude and a quick farewell. You stare at your closed office door for a moment, wondering if you dreamt up that interaction. The handwritten note sitting on your desk—created mere moments ago by Edgeworth—is proof that the prosecutor’s request was all too real. You don’t waste any time after that, immediately walking out of the police department and getting into your car. The Chief Prosecutor’s request isn’t too difficult—you simply need to revisit the crime scene and make sure everything is in order. Then you’ll return home, eat something, take a quick shower, and go to sleep. Everything will be fine. You won’t overwork yourself. You certainly won’t stay at the crime scene late into the night, until the point when you bear witness to the sun rising in the morning sky.

These promises fade into obscurity the moment you reach the crime scene. Your investigative mind turns on and all you can think about are fingerprints, footprints, and murder weapons. You meticulously review each piece of evidence for forensic data, in addition to reviewing the entire scene in your head several times. Your efforts are far from a waste of time, as you manage to tie up some loose ends and even determine that the murder weapon carries multiple sets of prints. Your knees are aching as you bend down towards the ground and survey anything of consequence. Time is entirely inconsequential. All you know is that the flashlight you had needed when you arrived is no longer useful, as hints of the sunrise begin to illuminate the area in a hazy dawn glow.

When your morning alarm goes off as you’re standing at the edge of the crime scene, you’re able to recognize that you may have gotten carried away. Just maybe. You sigh and trudge back to the car, before driving to the courthouse. When you arrive, you’re able to take a quick nap in the car and eat a protein bar you find in the console. Unfortunately, your nap is more than quick—it doesn’t last more than three minutes before you hear a knock on your window. It’s your least favorite defense attorney, Duff Endyu.

“Well, hello, Detective!” Duff remarks as you roll down your window, his cheery smile immediately ruining any of the rest you acquired from your brief rest. “Catching up on some Z’s, are we?” His grin seems to have a mocking edge.

“Yes,” you sigh, unwilling to entertain his attempts at provocation. “Are the doors open?” You look over to the courthouse entrance.

“I believe they are, sport,” he responds, patting a hand on the area where the unopened window rests and pacing towards the building. You take a deep breath and pinch the bride of your nose. It takes you a few moments to cross the parking lot and make it to the doors. Once you do, you find that the waiting room is blissfully empty. You sigh in relief and take a seat on the armchair, crossing a leg at the knee and pinching the bridge of your nose. You want nothing more than to fall asleep, but you know that would be rather unprofessional. Besides, you have a job to do.

You spend your time reviewing the information you gathered throughout your investigation, before preparing your statements and testimony as the detective on the case. You’re typically the first person called to the stand, so that you can explain the case to the judge and shed light on the evidence.

“Detective.” You flinch and look up, only to find Miles Edgeworth staring down at you. You resist the strange urge to get up from your seat and instead greet him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you respond, pretending that you don’t need to blink the traces of exhaustion from your eyes.

“Did you have a chance to do what I asked?”

“Yes, I did,” You’re about to explain when the bailiff interrupts and asks you to go into the courtroom. You send an apologetic smile to the prosecutor, before slipping into the empty courtroom. The judge is the only person in the room, and he seems to be frowning at something on the surface of his bench. When he notices your entrance, he motions for you to come closer.

You’re familiar with this judge and have worked with him several times before. The thought reassures you, as you know you won’t have to sugarcoat your words or pretend to be someone you’re not on the stand. The two of you have formed a surface-level understanding of one another, which makes your job that much easier.

The judge asks you a few questions about your investigation and you answer them to the best of your ability. Eventually, he seems satisfied, because he nods and dismisses you. You never get the chance to speak with Edgeworth and brief him on your findings before the trial, but you know he’ll learn more once you take the stand.

The judge begins the trial with the standard procedure, questioning both the defense and the prosecution before Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth makes his case for the conviction of the defendant. Not for the first time, you find yourself impressed by how succinct and persuasive the man’s argument is. Endme, the attorney for the defendant, seems a bit intimidated. You think you would be too, if you were going up against the chief prosecutor himself.

The judge then calls you to the stand. You explain the crime and describe the crime scene in detail, before Endme, the defense attorney, cross examines you. His cross-examination isn’t super thorough, and you suspect it’s because your claims are all backed up with at least one piece—if not multiple pieces—of evidence. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth seems to have quite the easy time with dismantling the defense’s argument. However, since you never got the chance to brief him before the trial, you’re forced to step in and correct an assumption when you hear it.

“Actually,” you break in, wincing at how everyone’s gazes lock onto you. You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth is right, but… an investigation earlier today revealed that the murder weapon actually contained the prints of the witness, in addition to the defendant.”

Edgeworth’s eyebrows steadily climb up his forehead. You want to feel guilty, but you know you didn’t leave him out of the loop on purpose. In fact, you were about to relay your findings to him when you were swiftly interrupted. Instead, you allow yourself a brief moment of pride. You caused that disbelieving expression on the chief prosecutor’s face. You found that evidence…!

The trial, understandably, is suitably affected by that revelation. You’re soon dismissed from the stand, as Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth calls the witness to the stand. You get the feeling he’s going to absolutely grill them—to see if they play a more active role in this case.

Truthfully, you want to leave the courthouse and go to sleep, but you know you should stay to see how the trial plays out. Thankfully, Edgeworth uses the forensic evidence you found to bolster his argument and, after only about an hour, the courtroom doors swing open and the chief prosecutor appears. His eyes narrow in on you immediately and there’s a frown on his face. You feel any good karma you may have accrued earlier completely dissipate.

“Detective,” Edgeworth says with a sigh. This can’t be good, you think to yourself. “I appreciate your efforts, and the fact that you did what I asked you to do.” He pauses. But…? “However, I do not recall telling you to avoid sleep entirely.” His eyes meet yours and you realize he must’ve noticed your fatigue earlier or the dark circles that currently reside under your own eyes.

“I know,” you acquiesce. The prosecutor nods knowingly, and you suddenly feel the need to defend yourself. “Still. I had a gut feeling there was something missing—and I was right.” Edgeworth sighs loudly. You raise your eyebrows at him knowingly, inviting him to argue with you. Fortunately for you, there’s not much of an outlet for him to argue—since your choice to continue investigating procured decisive evidence for the trial. The prosecutor evidently comes to that realization, because he crosses his arms over his chest and levels you with a furious gaze that spells you silent.

“Come on, Detective,” he remarks. “Unless you’d like the budget cut that Detective Gumshoe is so fond of.” You sigh deeply and follow after the prosecutor. This is the first time he’s threatened to reduce your salary. You certainly hope it will be the last—you’d rather not rewrite your budget for the coming month.

You follow after Edgeworth, who has yet to offer an explanation for why you’re supposed to follow him. The prosecutor paces out of the courtroom and walks through the lines of cars in the parking lot until he reaches a red sports car. Your eyebrows climb up your forehead as you see him unlock it.

“This is your car?” You hear yourself ask.

“You seem surprised,” Edgeworth notes with a tinge of amusement. He opens the door for you, allowing you to enter, before closing it behind you. The prosecutor then walks around the car and gets into the driver’s seat. Edgeworth looks at you expectantly, evidently waiting for elaboration.

“Sorry, you just didn’t seem the type,” you say. You quickly regret uttering the statement aloud after seeing the prosecutor raise an eyebrow; thankfully, he lets the comment slide. Instead, you get into the car and awkwardly stare down at your hands. You feel intensely out of place in this car, sitting next to the Chief Prosecutor himself. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to notice your internal panic, instead beginning to pull out of the courthouse parking lot and drive down the street. “Where are we going?” You eventually find the courage to ask.

“My office,” Edgeworth responds. You feel your heart stall in your chest. He isn’t going to fire you, is he? You’re not sure if he has that power… but you wouldn’t be surprised if he did possess that kind of administrative authority. Your fear must show on your face, because the prosecutor huffs in amusement before turning to look at you for a brief moment. “Lighten up, Detective.” Contrary to your expectations, you aren’t given any more explanation than that. Instead, you’re left to sit silently as Edgeworth

He’s taking you to his office. Oh no. You’re really going to get fired, aren’t you? Your heart races in your chest and you feel your hands twitching at your sides. Edgeworth leads the way to the Prosecutor’s Building, walking through the underground garage before reaching the door and opening it for you. You’ve been to the building before, but you’ve never been to the underground garage—which leaves you feeling a little turned around. You suspect there’s an elevator that will lead to Edgeworth’s office. However, the chief prosecutor walks past it and instead ascends the staircase next to it. You shrug and follow after him. One flight of stairs won’t be too bad.

One flight of stairs passes in the blink of an eye. However, Edgeworth doesn’t exit as you expect—instead he continues climbing up the stairs. Are you going to be taking the stairs all the way up to his office? From what you remember, quite a few of the offices are on the higher floors. You decide to keep quiet and follow his lead.

If only you had known that Edgeworth’s office number was on the twelfth floor . By the time you climb up the last set of stairs and reach the twelfth floor, you want to collapse on the ground and never get up. Edgeworth, on the other hand, isn’t even winded. You manage to catch your breath on the short walk from the staircase to his office, but you know your legs will be sore tomorrow.

You’ve never been in the Chief Prosecutor’s office before. It has more life than you thought it might, with a burgundy couch off to the left side, an ornate wooden desk in the center of the room, and rows of files lining the walls on the right. There’s a small figurine of the Steel Samurai and an award that you recognize to be the Prosecutor Trophy. The space looks like a good mix of professionalism and nonchalance that you think you’d like to emulate in your own office.

Despite your expectations, Edgeworth still doesn't give you an explanation for why you’re here. Instead, he settles into the chair at his desk and opens his computer. He’s quiet as he types on his computer. After a few moments of standing awkwardly, you decide to move and sit on the couch.

You don’t know how long you wait there, anticipating a remark from the chief prosecutor. Unfortunately, now that you’re left here with nothing to do, you feel your energy slipping away. Your exhaustion is beginning to catch up to you. You didn’t get much sleep ( read: any sleep) last night, thanks to your impromptu investigation. Despite your fatigue threatening to knock you out, you know can’t fall asleep in front of the Chief Prosecutor. You have to stay awake.

Surely, there’s something you could be doing right now. Your eyes are stinging from exhaustion and your blinks feel twice as long as normal. You rub your eyes roughly and pay a glance at Edgeworth, who is scrawling something down on a piece of paper.. Just what are you supposed to be doing here? The prosecutor hasn’t spoken since you left the car. Edgeworth isn’t shy about assigning you work to do, so why is he suddenly so silent?

Despite all these recognitions, and the intimate knowledge that it will not look good if you fall asleep, your exhaustion wins out. One moment, you’re staring blankly ahead at the wall of files; the next, your eyes are slipping shut and you’re falling asleep.

Your sleep is remarkably undisturbed, despite being in the company of another person. You occasionally hear the scrawling sound of writing or the pattering sounds of typing, but otherwise, the office is blissfully silent. Your head rests on your hand and you exhale slowly, feeling the day’s stressors slowly slip away.

You don’t intend to sleep for long. But, when you wake up, you find that it’s dark outside. There’s an added warmth that you didn’t have before. Upon further investigation, you find that there’s a familiar burgundy jacket draped over you. Is this… Edgeworth’s jacket? Your eyes widen as the characteristic burgundy color.

Your phone pings, drawing you out of your thoughts. You reach towards it and power it on, only to find that it’s nearly 6 p.m. The trial ended hours ago! You look around for Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth, but he’s nowhere in sight. All you see is the familiar wall of files, the chessboard in the corner of the room, and a mug of tea with a note next to it.

Wait. A mug of tea with a note? You frown and look down at the coffee table, finding a mug of warm tea with steam rising out of it and a handwritten note. The note reads:

Visiting the department. Expect a more strictly enforced schedule in the future. -M. PS: Stay as long as you need.

You smile to yourself.

“Duff Endyu” → “defend you.” lol.

hehehehehehheeeee… I just want to fall asleep in Edgeworth's office and for Edgeworth to look down at me and be filled with an inexplicable burst of fondness. is that really too much to ask?>??

Did “a more strictly enforced schedule” make sense? I was trying to find a characteristic way for Miles to say that your overtime would be prevented (aka that you’ll have to “clock out” and actually leave, instead of staying for hours after).

I just realized Miles’s initials are M.E.. Lollll.

anyway, thanks for reading! <333

TAGLIST: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall

#miles edgeworth #Miles Edgeworth x reader #edgeworth x reader #gn reader #male reader #transmasc reader #Miles Edgeworth x male reader #gay as hell #edgeworth x gn reader #ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney fanfic

114 notes · View notes

senorabond · 6 months

Text

Rumor Has It: Chapter 2 (Peña x f!reader x Pike)

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Pena x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 2 Summary: You’re reviewing the case file Javi gave you when a memory of your last night in D.C. distracts you. After a bit of a brainstorm, you decide it’s finally time to call Marcus back and get his opinion. He always has the right words.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: masturbation (f!reader), flashback, thigh riding, oral sex (f receiving), semi-public/workplace sex (evidence locker after hours), hand on throat for control, Dom/sub dynamic, soft Dom!Marcus, praise kink, you are such a good girl

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem/afab. Marcus is strong enough to lift Reader up onto the edge of a table (no mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color), Reader has hair long enough for Marcus to brush away from face, Marcus is super thoughtful and thorough when planning for sexy times

Words: ~4.5k

Author's Notes: A huge thank you again to @kilamonster for being my wonderful beta, talking me through my fear of posting dirty talk, and letting me bounce random porny ideas off her. <3

Again, there’s no specific time/setting, I just really wanted to get both Javi and Marcus together in the same story. In my mind, Javi is post-s3 of Narcos, and Marcus is somewhere around/after s7ep1 of The Mentalist.

I learned basically everything I know about the court system from true crime TV and podcasts, so the legalese here is purposefully vague. I have no idea what it would take to prosecute a federal case, lol. However, I did find some interesting information while researching art fraud/money laundering! I’m happy to share links to my sources if anybody is interested.

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

Later that night, you sit cross-legged on your bed, the various photos and documents from Peña spread out around you. You can see why he was so adamant about Customs involvement – there was enough circumstantial evidence in front of you for some lower-level courts to convict. Peña doesn’t strike you as the type to take chances though, not at this point in his career. If he’s making an arrest, he wants a case airtight, no room for technicalities or sympathetic juries. He’ll have worked with enough federal prosecutors to know what he needs to put bastards away and keep them there.

You think back to your conversation with Peña for what must be the twelfth time since that afternoon. It’s still difficult to reconcile the reputation with the man. Javier Peña, the senior DEA agent, was by reputation a force of nature; women and men alike wanted him and wanted to be him. He is unapologetically brash, arrogant, and always gets his way. If he believes something is worth getting, he’ll do whatever it takes, even if he has to use less than savory channels.

Javier Peña, the man, is intense, focused, driven, and has some of the saddest, most beautiful, big brown eyes you’d ever seen. He has a level of self-awareness you hadn’t expected. He struggles with asking for help, even if he can recognize his own limitations.

With a sigh, you take the wire transcript in hand and lean back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. The conversation had thankfully already been translated from Spanish with the original attached for reference. You had basic Spanish under your belt from high school and learned some choice slang from friends and exes, but you didn’t know nearly enough to comprehend the entire conversation on paper in front of you.

The men were discussing various works of art and their estimated values at auction and on the black market. One of the men, Castano, was insisting he could simply forge a copy of a famous painting since it was “just a bunch of splattered paint” that “didn’t look like anything anyway.” You chuckled to yourself.

You used to think the same thing about the abstract expressionism paintings you’d seen until somebody actually took the time to explain the meaning behind the movement. Agent Marcus Pike knew a lot about art – it was his job, after all, as head of the FBI’s art crimes unit in D.C. You worked closely with Pike and his squad to close a major case before you put in for the transfer to Texas. The two of you had spent a lot of time together and grown close, developing a mutual professional respect before things had ever gotten personal.

Your thoughts travel back to the last time Pike taught you something about art. It’s a bittersweet thought, since that was also your last night in D.C., and the last time you saw him. You’d come so close to saying more than you were ready to admit, and certainly more than you were ready to hear in return.

With a sigh, you drop the transcript on the bed and fall back onto your pillows. That last night in D.C. was also the last time you experienced an orgasm you didn’t give yourself. More than one, actually.

Your mind floods with images and sensations from that night and, rather unconsciously, your hands begin to retrace the parts of your body Marcus had touched. Fingertips ghost over the crook of your neck and across your collarbone to the collar of your worn t-shirt. Marcus’ t-shirt, actually. You’d stolen it unapologetically when he’d forgotten it at your place and told him it looked better on you anyway. Marcus had agreed, and then shown just how much better he liked it on you.

While your one hand is occupied at your breast, the other busies itself at the waistband of your panties. Eyes closed, you slide a finger over your dampening slit, remembering the path Marcus’ tongue traveled as your breath hitches. God, that man could use his mouth. And he loved to use it on you. You let the memory of that night wash over you…

Washington, D.C. 6 months ago

“There is one thing I need right now.” You feel a bit giddy at your recklessness, but any nerves you might have are quelled when Marcus runs the tip of his nose up your jawline to your ear.

“And what’s that? Hm?” He inhales your scent and hums with pleasure. Before you can stop yourself, you shift the hand at Marcus’ hip to his crotch. When you feel how hard he already is you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose at your touch, then lets out a groan in your ear at your gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you need.” His five o’clock shadow rasps against your sensitive skin as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth.

“I need you to show me that evidence locker you haven’t shut up about since we met.”

~~~

Pike stands behind you in the elevator in case you happen upon anybody else working late at the office. The odds are low, except for the contracted private security officers, but you didn’t think they’d want to see Pike’s hardon either. He’s so close, he’s almost pressed against your back while caressing a palm over your ass. You try to keep a straight face, but are practically panting through parted lips.

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time, haven’t you?” Marcus asks, his voice low in your ear as he leans over to push the button for the correct floor. His tone is almost conversational, but you can feel the thread of excitement pulling taut between your bodies. He’d been teasing you with the idea of fucking you in the art squad’s evidence locker for months now, going into great detail about what he was going to do to you – you only had to ask.

You nod silently in response as the elevator doors close, and Pike grips your waist, grinding his erection into your lower back. “Yes,” your breath huffs out. He likes you to use your words, and strokes your arm with an approving hum.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Your nipples harden at his words and your breath comes out shakily.

Marcus was the first person you’d ever been with to call you a good girl. You never thought you’d be into the kind of gentle dominance and steady stream of praise Marcus employed with you, but it made all the right synapses fire in your brain and took the experience to an entirely different level.

You nod again, playing the game, knowing what he wants to hear.

Marcus’ hand splays across your lower belly, the other sweeping gently across your throat and brushing your hair away from your face. He’s pressing into you, the energy coming off him in waves, leaving you feeling heady.

“Say it for me.” It’s spoken softly, coaxing, but still an unmistakable command.

“I’ll be a good girl for you.” Your voice has the slightest waver, but ends strong.

Marcus’ hand on your belly inches lower and heat radiates between your thighs. “I know you will.”

The doors of the elevator open with a ding that makes you jump, and Marcus moves back with a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Gently, he guides you with a hand between your shoulder blades. You’re on one of the underground levels, where the low ceilings and fluorescent lights are stark reminders that you’re both still in a government building and cameras are watching your every move.

A security guard rounds a corner and Marcus clears his throat, then moves to button his suit jacket, presumably to hide his erection. How he manages to walk with that thing when it’s hard, you’ll never know.

The guard waves amiably. “Good evening, Agent Pike. What’re you still doing here so late?” Of course Pike knows the guard; probably knows his kids’ names too.

“Just had something to finish off first.” Biting your tongue to keep from laughing, the two of you pass the guard. “Oh yeah, tell Rosie good luck at her big match this weekend.” You nearly snort. The men share a brief handshake and you and Marcus round the corner, the door to the evidence lockup just ahead.

The two of you share a heated look and Marcus smirks. He swipes his badge and the door unlocks with a small snick. You’re guided inside a dark room that could be the size of a storage closet for all you can see. Marcus flips one of the light switches, and sturdy floor-to-ceiling shelving units are illuminated on either side, hedging you in like a maze. So far, it looks like any other evidence room, except with mood lighting.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” you mutter, and Marcus chuckles. As he leads you along the shelves towards some unknown destination, long shadows from the meager overhead light throw the long rows and corners into darkness.

He takes your hand and explains, “The lighting, temperature, and humidity are all controlled by a central system. Same kind as in the National Gallery.” You nod, genuinely impressed.

“You don’t keep all your evidence here, right?” The room was large, but most of the shelving space was taken up by various sized crates and archival boxes. Marcus shakes his head.

“Just the very valuable pieces that need to be kept under special conditions. Any other evidence is kept in a regular lockup.” Marcus stops and you come up short, nearly colliding with his broad back. “Oh,” you breathe, peering around him and knowing this is what he wanted to show you.

The maze of shelving units opens up onto what looks like a miniature museum exhibit. Paintings are hung on the walls or staged on easels and covered with drop cloths. Sculptures are on pedestals in glass cases along one wall, and to your right are a few chairs next to an expansive table.

Marcus approaches the paintings and proceeds to carefully remove the drop cloths from each work of art. They vary in style, color, expression, and movement. Some of them are encased in elaborate frames, while others are plain, or bare. Now this is what you’d hoped for after all these months hearing Marcus speak of this place in near reverent tones. This evidence lockup could rival most well-funded galleries and museums.

“Are these all forgeries?” You take a step closer to the nearest painting and inspect it – for what, you’re not sure. “Stolen?”

“A bit of both.” Marcus sidles up behind you. Your voices remain hushed, private, intimate.

Hands casually in his pockets, he takes you on a tour of the evidence on display, telling you a bit about each piece – what made the art valuable enough to forge or steal, and a few particulars about each case. He is in his element here, the picture of quiet confidence. Passion laces his every word and brings a spark to his eyes that you’d only seen a few times before when you were about to crack a case.

You have never felt more attracted to him.

Coming up to the last painting, you cock your head to the side and give it a quizzical stare. It’s abstract, composed of a muted yet warm palette. The paint is blended with no discernable lines or shapes.

“What is it?” you ask, looking up in time to see Marcus’ dimple appear next to his gentle smile.

“What do you see?” Marcus steps behind you again, and runs the tips of his fingers up and down your arms.

“I… I’m not sure. What am I supposed to see?” The texture of the paint is layered in some spaces, and there’s almost an ethereal glow emanating from its contrast of light and dark. You feel a bit embarrassed and uncultured. Maybe if you squint or let your vision blur, like it’s one of those magic eye puzzles that give you headaches.

“What I love about abstract art is that there’s no right or wrong answer. I hated it until we studied it in school. I always thought I was missing something, and got frustrated that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.”

You let out a soft hmm of agreement, but are distracted by Marcus’ voice, hot on your ear, lips close enough to graze the sensitive shell. “It was this quote by an artist, Arshile Gorky, that helped me appreciate it more. To paraphrase, abstraction frees the mind and allows it to explore the unknown. Whatever you see is what you’re meant to see.”

You let your mind rest on his words, buzzing from the energy between you. With a smirk, you say, “I bet you got laid a lot in school.”

Marcus gives a surprised chuckle. “I did alright,” he admits, and you hear the grin in his voice.

Turning to face him, you run your hands up his chest and under the lapels of his jacket to his shoulders. Marcus sighs, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. That spark in his eye is trained on you now, his pupils blown while they skate over your face under hooded lids.

“What’s next on the tour?” Your voice comes out a bit hoarse, his gaze almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Marcus smiles, somewhat mischievously. “Just one more thing. C’mon,” he takes your hand and starts leading you to the large table and chairs. “I think you’re going to like this part.”

Leaving you at the edge of the table, Marcus goes to one of the nearby shelves and pulls out a large cardboard envelope from a box, nearly the size of one of the paintings. With the flip of a switch, the entire surface of the table illuminates, humming gently from the internal fan. He pulls out what looks to be a sheet of dark plastic film and lays it on top of the table, revealing an x-ray image.

Marcus’ face is like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “This is an x-ray of that painting over here,” he points to the abstract work you’d been standing at a moment before. The x-ray on the table is a ghostly, black-and-white rendering of the muted swaths of paint. “And here,” he lays a second image down on the table, “is another x-ray taken of the same painting at different settings.”

You nearly gasp. It’s virtually a different image entirely. The abstract painting has been reduced to a haze, overlaying a distinct pastoral landscape. Leaning over the table for a closer look, you feel a pleasantly warm glow on your face from the lit surface. “What the…” Your eyes snap back to Marcus’ face, which is lit up with what you can only describe as glee.

“So you like it?” His eyes are sparkling and that dimple you love so much has reappeared. “‘Like it?’” You scoff. “I love it, Marcus, this is incredible. But…” you gesture at the images, “What exactly does that mean in terms of evidence?” Marcus comes around to your side of the table.

“The first one is a radiographic image of that painting we looked at, which could have told us if there were any traces of minerals or other elements within the paint used. Modern paint pigments are synthetic,” Marcus pulls the first image closer and gestures to the different shades of gray. “But–” he slides the second image next to the first, with its outlines of rolling hills and fluffy clouds, “Historically, heavy metals were frequently used, like lead and cobalt.”

Nodding along with the lesson, you put two and two together. “So the heavy metals in old paint would show through on an x-ray, even if somebody has painted over it.” Marcus is beaming at you, clearly happy that you made the connection.

“Exactly. And then the synthetic paint could be removed later.” Turning to face you, he rests a hip on the edge of the table. The surface light casts dramatic shadows across the contours of his jaw and nose. You mirror his body language and reach out to poke him playfully in the chest.

“No fair; the FBI gets all the fun toys.” The cool satin of his tie slips deftly between your fingers, and you give it a gentle tug. His gaze is alert and hungry as he takes a step closer, and you can feel your body responding to his proximity once again. Marcus trails a finger across your clavicle that sends a chill down your spine and tingles straight to your nipples.

“Yeah, but if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll share.” Threading his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, he pulls gently but purposefully until your head tilts back and you’re forced to meet his eyes. A shuddering breath escapes your parted lips. Marcus leans in and grazes his lips against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss. His tongue traces the sensitive inner edge of your top lip and you nearly let out a whimper.

“Go on, then. Ask me.” He nips at your bottom lip. “Nicely.”

“Please,” you breathe. Marcus’ arm encircles your waist, while the hand in your hair grips a bit tighter. He uses a tight hold on your ass to grind you against the firm thigh he places between your own. Your hands grasp desperately onto his shoulders as your knees feel like they’re about to buckle from the delicious pressure.

“‘Please’ what?” Marcus prompts gently. You’re pressing back against his thigh now, too lost in the sensation to respond. He withdraws it suddenly and you’re left clenching, all too aware of how badly you need that pressure back.

“‘Please’ what?” He repeats, more firmly this time.

“Please, Sir.” You correct yourself quickly, and are rewarded with Marcus’ lips against yours and the blessed return of his thigh. He’s a man possessed, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue licks inside. The next thing you know, he’s got you sandwiched between the table and his thigh now, your skirt hiked up, juices leaking through your panties as you ride the firm muscles of his leg.

“Look at you, just beautiful. You’re so hot like this, I love seeing you lose yourself. Does that feel good? Hm?” Marcus presses his hard cock into your hip and groans. “Jesus, I can feel how fucking wet you are through my pants. Are you going to leave your pussy juices on me, so anybody we walk past can see what a good girl you are for me?”

Your eyes are squeezed shut tight, arms gripping to Marcus for dear life as you continue rutting against him, breath becoming ragged. The friction and pressure are almost too much, you’ll practically give yourself rug burn at this rate. But the onslaught of Marcus’ filthy praise in your ear, his hot, steamy breath against your neck, his tongue on your pulse point – you’re already careening out of control and he knows it.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” Nodding, wordless, you scramble to hold onto him as Marcus scoops up one of your thighs and hooks it over his hip with a grunt. “Then you better ask first.”

“P-please,” you gasp out, “Please, Sir. Please can I cum?” You’re on the precipice, Marcus’ cock almost painfully hard in your hip.

You gasp when he pulls his thigh away, eyes flying open in shock. “Not yet, sweet girl, hold on for me just a little bit longer. You’re going to cum on my tongue first.” Before you have a chance to protest, Marcus hoists you up fully onto the edge of the light table and pulls up a chair to feast on you.

You’re immediately aware of the warmth the lit surface of the table infuses into every part of your body it’s touching. The table itself feels sturdy and solid beneath you, but you can’t fight an initial moment of panic. “Um, Marcus…I don’t know if–” It’s a struggle to concentrate as Marcus noses at your clothed pussy. A gentle double tap to the crown of his head is all the signal he needs to check in.

“You okay? Do you want to stop?” Marcus’ face is flushed, but his eyes are clear and laser focused on you.

“Is this, uh…safe?” You rap gently on the table with a forced air of nonchalance.

Marcus smiles and strokes the outside of your hip and thigh with his hand. “Totally safe. I triple-checked the specs and tested it out already.”

You lift an amused eyebrow at that. “Tested it out?”

Marcus’ eyes go round at the implication, his dominant persona dropped. “Not like that! I mean I stacked a shitload of evidence boxes on it and did a– well, ah– a simulation, I guess you could call it.” His self-effacing chuckle is endearing. He always knows how to make you feel safe and secure during your more adventurous times together. You smile and stroke his hair as he rubs his cheek against your inner thigh, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow sending shockwaves to your pussy.

“I’m very interested in finding out more about this simulation…Sir.” His honorific on your lips is your signal that you’re ready to continue and his grin turns wolfish. With a playful, smacking kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh, Marcus slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Bracing your calves on his broad shoulders, you lift your ass a little to help Marcus slide the panties the rest of the way off.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.” Gently, he applies pressure to your knees until you’re completely spread out before him. You might be a little embarrassed being on display if you didn’t know how much he loved you like this: open, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy. The expression on Marcus’ face is practically one of reverence.

“This is exactly why I wanted to bring you here,” Marcus places open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, sucking and nibbling his way to your center. It’s difficult not to squirm, he’s got you feeling antsy and impatient. “I wanted to see you lit up and on exhibit for me, like the work of art you are.”

You must be quite a sight to behold with the bright light of the table shining from beneath you. To drive his point home, Marcus dips his tongue to your core and collects your gathering slick on his tongue, spreading it and his saliva up to your clit in a broad swipe. Riding his thigh earlier has left you swollen and sensitive; your back arches off the table and you gasp at the sudden contact.

Marcus holds you open with one hand so his tongue can more freely explore the full length of your slit, while the other alternates between massaging your breasts and rolling a peaked nipple through your blouse. Desperate for more, you unbutton your top enough to pull the cups of your bra down and leave yourself exposed to Marcus’ roaming fingers.

Your whimpers and shuddering breaths combine with the sounds of Marcus lapping at your seeping cunt. His nose bumps against your engorged clit and you gasp, hips spasming. The hand on your breast disappears, and a finger gently nudges your entrance.

“I’m going to get you ready for my cock, baby. Are you ready?” You nod wordlessly, and Marcus eases a digit inside you, watching your expression. “Oh, pretty girl, you’re so good, so wet. So tight, fuck.”

Marcus laves his tongue over your clit and you clench around his finger. “Mmm, you’re going to take me so good, aren’t you?” Soon, he adds a second, working it rhythmically in and out, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit until you’re panting.

The wet noises made by Marcus’ fingers inside you are practically obscene. When he crooks them at just the right spot, you lose all sense and writhe against him. You can hear a question in his inflection, but the twist and pull of his fingers are distracting, to say the least. He’s leaning over you now, the heel of his palm applying pressure over your clit to replace his mouth.

“You’re doing so well, I know you can do it. You just need to ask me first.” His fingers inside you are relentless, and you can feel the pressure building inside, pulling taut like a rubber band about to snap. Marcus can tell how close you are and stops with his two fingers buried deep inside and applies his other hand to each side of your neck with just enough pressure to get your attention.

“C’mon, sweetheart, focus for me, otherwise I’ll have to stop.” His fingers are barely moving inside of you, just enough to keep you right on the edge. “You know what to do.”

A sob practically escapes your throat. “Please, Sir. I need to cum. Please can I? I want to be good for you.” It’s impossible to keep the pleading from your tone, you’re so close. Your hips are gyrating of their own accord, feebly fucking yourself on his fingers.

Marcus moves his hand off your throat to cup the side of your face and tangle his fingers in your hair. “Mm, do it. Be my good girl and cum.” Marcus leans down for a final taste where you’re stretched around his curling fingers, then settles his lips around your clit. With a cry, you break and see stars behind your eyelids as your orgasm crashes over you.

“Fuck yes, that’s my good girl. So beautiful like this, so perfect. I can feel you dripping into my hand, baby, you’re so wet. Did that feel good? Is that what you needed?” Marcus praises you through it all, stroking your neck, your breasts, peppering kisses over your mound and belly. His fingers retreat, leaving you fluttering in aftershocks, and you watch him lick your cum from his palm and fingers.

“Thank you for being such a good girl for me, sweetheart. I had to taste you at least one more time before you leave...” Reality falls over the room like a weighted blanket, and you let your engaged muscles go slack against the lit surface of the table, suddenly harsh and blinding. You feel exposed instead of exhibited and you squeeze your thighs together as the final flutters of your orgasm subside.

“Hey, come back to me,” you hear Marcus murmur, and feel him turn your face to meet his. He kisses you slowly and deeply, and you taste your tang on his plump bottom lip. He presses his forehead against yours and you share a couple of breaths.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Additional Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! There is plenty more to come (had to). I'd love to know what you thought -- any and all feedback is welcome! I just want to become a better writer. :)

Chapter 3 || SeñoraBond's Masterlist

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #javier peña #marcus pike #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x reader #javier pena fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #senorabond writes #rumor has it fic

77 notes · View notes

oodlyenough · 6 months

Text

I've been pretty critical of AAI so far but I'm mid 1-4 and enjoying the bit I'm playing right now so I feel I should give credit where it's due

Calisto Yew is hilarious

finally... someone willing to laugh in edgeworth's face. lmfao. deserved. sometimes I worry this game has forgotten miles edgeworth is a ridiculous person. calisto yew never has. god bless her

i'm with her, that was hilarious. bully those (post)minors ms yew

This post got really long so here's a cut. More on Yew & Franziska below:

it also meant we got to hear edgeworth and franziska talk about how awful and disgusting defense attorneys are, how could they defend someone who might be GUILTY, the HORROR, because in this universe the actual role of a criminal defense lawyer is arcane knowledge lost to time.

i've found myself wishing AAI got into the defense/prosecution philosophical debate more, the mainline games spend a lot of time positioning the prosecution as the enemy and i thought the alternate perspective here would be compelling. but so far it's mostly been edgeworth "inspecting every nook and cranny" while court has no role to play at all. so this is nice.

2. baby franziska

a lot of why I wanted to play this game at all is because I am obsessed w Franziska and hoped it would continue her story after it kind of unceremoniously ends in AA3. then I ... wasn't thrilled with how she was written in the airline case, so my hopes for baby franziska were not high.

But I'm liking her actually. Her put-on maturity and insane competitive streak really suit a 13 year old, lmao. And I don't have to wonder why she has fire extinguisher amnesia re: everything with her father and DL6. She and Miles are pretty funny, but there's some nice moments too. I really loved this one:

I cut the MVK/Franziska exchange in between for readability, and I'd seen that first screenshot float around plenty before, but I'd never seen the follow up. The progression of MVK is a huge dick to Miles for no reason -> Franziska intervenes in a way that makes MVK change his mind, but, crucially, without revealing any particular sentimentality -> Edgeworth recognizes it for what it is and thanks her anyway -> Franziska brushes it off in a way that lets them go back to competing in lieu of talking about their feelings, phew. Really good and felt very true to the relationship I think these two would have and the ways I think Franziska would demonstrate her care. The rituals are intricate but she loves her idiot little brother.

Also: matching sprites. Hehe.

3. This MVK line specifically, in response to why he wants Edgeworth to be a "top tier prosecutor"

Cracked me the fuck up. What an insane thing to say, and no one in-universe even knows what he's talking about. An inside joke to himself about his 15 year elaborate 5d chess child abuse revenge plan. Nobody's doing it like MVK. His ridiculously circuitous plan is 1/4 complete

Anyway, I'm not done this case yet, but it's the most I've enjoyed AAI so far so I felt I should give it a shout-out, lol. I wish Franziska could be my weird girl all the time 😔

#ace attorney investigations #oodly plays AAI #franziska von karma #miles edgeworth #von karma siblings #calisto yew

94 notes · View notes

exaltedfuzz · 13 days

Note

HI I LOVEEEEE your Art I LOVEEEE your ema! I wanted to ask if you've played aa6 and your thoughts on aa6 ema! I really like that they brought her back and i really think they balanced her personality well by making her more upbeat because of her job, but shes not wholly optimistic either. I really like her relationship with prosecutor sadmadhi throughout the game too! I feel like there's a scale in emas mind from Most to least acceptable prosecutor men and on one end is Miles edgeworth, the other is Klavier gavin, and sadmadhi is in the middle. if that makes sense lol. I just think she talks like she doesn't like him, but she goes along with him way more than she would if Klavier ever asked her to do half the things he asks of her. Also I think it's really interesting that aa6 had ema and mayas first canon interaction! that was interesting to me because ema was sort of designed with Maya in mind and lana and mia obviously have some history, I think it was time for their sisters to meet too. sorry for the Long ask but I just treasure your interpretation of these characters so much!

Hi! I recognize your username from my notifs. Thanks for the support, and for your ask! 🫡 Glad you like the Emas!

I have mixed feelings on SoJ, but Ema is my favorite part of it. I like her a lot in it. She's still got a bit of the edge from AJ, which is nice to see. I like some of her new sprites too, like the swaying thinking one and the 🥺 one. Much prefer her munching sprite from AJ though. The shovelling snacks into her mouth is much more Ema. I also really don't like her official full body art for SoJ.

Unfortunately, Nahyuta doesn't really interest me... His design is too complex to do silly drawings of, for one. I feel like their dynamic was a little underdeveloped, a bit shoehorned in. It's a shame, because their backstories set up a possible dynamic that could be quite interesting, since Lana and Nahyuta kind of have the same motivations - writing team missed a trick. Also, I think Ema would have realistically been grumpier about having to fly halfway across the world every few days. It didn't reeeeaaally feel organic to me. But I do like the idea of their dynamic.

I like the way Maya and Ema interact, even if it's brief. Implies that they have met before, and they're friends, which is cute, though I wish it was a little more delved into. I feel like Maya's characterisation in SoJ is kind of boring. Not as bad as Pearl got it, but still nowhere near as good as she was in the trilogy. Honestly, the whole game falls flat for me when you compare it to the emotional weight the trilogy and AJ have. I really like some of the cases though. And Ema's mini games are great as always. Except the bit with the suitcase which lagged out my 3DS and made me restart it twice, haha. (Though, again! Her mini games were kind of better in the other games!!!)

So, to answer your question, I do like Ema in SoJ. And, despite my criticism, I do like SoJ! Just not as much as the other games in the series. When you play them all in a row, it feels kind of disappointing. I think it's because it's not on the intimate, domestic scale of the trilogy, which is where I think Ace Attorney really shines. (Case in point: Bridge to the Turnabout)

Super happy to see her in another game though, she's really fun, exactly what SoJ needed, and I'm really glad she was the detective they went for. Also, the outfit they put her in for the DLC cutscenes at the wedding is really really good. They were cooking with that one.

I'm really happy to hear you're interested in my interpretations, it means a lot. They're characters I've grown quite fond of.

This turned out quite long. Haha

Here's Ema and Nahyuta for you:

#art #my art #ace attorney #ema skye #nahyuta sahdmadhi #spirit of justice #aa6 #exaltedfuzz

27 notes · View notes

arcsimper5 · 3 months

Text

Left Behind

Excuse the angst, I just watched the Daro episode of Bad Batch over lunch and had to get this out lol.

Title: Left Behind Pairing: None Characters: Scorch (RC-1262), Hunter (CF99) Summary: Scorch fails to remember, but Hunter's capture reminds him of something he ought to. Rating: M (mentions of torture, blood, sad times ahead)

It had been years since Scorch had gone down to stun bolts. How much time had passed since the Prosecutor mission?

And why couldn’t he remember his squad?

Maker, he felt nauseous.

It had to have been the stun bolts, he reasoned. Memories of Trandoshans, a cell and orange and white armour swam in his head, hazy, as if viewed through fogged transparisteel.

Shaking his head, he felt another of the commandos nudge him as they jolted around in the shuttle.

“RC-1262, are you okay?”

Why was that voice so familiar?

“Fine.”

The answer was almost automatic, his reply short as he nodded.

He was fine. Of course he was fine. He’d been stunned, sure, but he was following orders. It’s what he was bred to do.

Good soldiers follow orders…

Glancing towards the cockpit, he could see the flashes of green, trees speeding upwards as they descended towards the ground.

“All commandos, be advised, we have a target on the ground at your position. Consider armed and dangerous.”

“Think he survived that fall?” one of the TK’s behind him chuckled lowly, the comm channels opened.

“He’s talking, listen,” another one smirked, the mirth in his voice making Scorch’s stomach churn as a voice came over the comms.

“Hunter! Tell them to come back! Order them to come back!”

“I’m sorry, kid. I can’t do that.”

A shiver ran over Scorch’s entire body as the shuttle landed, hand, the ramp still descending even as the troopers in front of him began spilling out.

Mere feet away, he saw their target, a clone with grey and red armour, a vibroknife in hand.

He watched as the target sheathed his blade with a resigned sigh, hands raised in surrender.

“Shows how loyal the clones really are,” one of the TK’s giggled over comms, “left another one behind.”

“No wonder they need to be replaced. What cowards.”

Scorch ignored the comments as he pressed forward, rifle pointed at this ‘Hunter’.

“Weapons on the floor in front of you,” he rasped, body still recovering from the stun bolts.

Hunter complied, pulling his vibroblade and a blaster from their holsters, movements slow and careful as he put them down onto the ground in front of him.

He winced as he moved, Scorch feeling a trembling in his hands that had nothing to do with the stun bolts.

How could they leave him? They operated like a squad who had been together for years, knew each other’s tells and strategies.

He’d never leave one of his men alone, ever. Just the thought, the idea, the…

“Delta lead, get your men under control! One commando isn’t worth risking an entire operation.”

“One commando? He’s talking about my pod brother!”

His own voice sounded foreign in his mind. So emotional, so insubordinate.

Then pain. Pain ripped from within, a sharp, stabbing sensation, as if someone was trying to pry his brain out of a tiny hole in his skull.

He didn’t know if he screamed, he didn’t know when his armour was removed, or when his weapons were taken. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten the cuts on his hands, the bruises, the blood…

The white lights above him were blinding, his gasping breaths alerting another being in the room to his consciousness.

“W-Where’s S-Sev?” he managed, voice broken and coarse. “Where’s… my squad?”

His eyes were fluttering, pain still radiating from the side of his head. He wanted it to stop. Maker, he’d do anything to make it stop!

“B-Boss… Fixer… S-Sev…”

How had he forgotten them? Forgotten his brothers? The missions, the camaraderie, the awful little shuttle they’d called home for so long… How had this happened?

“RC-1262 seems to be fighting the effects of the chip enhancement once again,” came a dull, slow voice, Kaminoan, it seemed, though not one he recognised.

“Increase the compliance centre levels once more.”

There was a moment of hesitation before the first voice answered.

“With all due respect, Admiral, another increase may damage his brain beyond any working capacity. I would recommend…”

“I do not care what you recommend.”

The venom in the second voice was almost palpable.

“We are losing too many Commandos to the failure of your chips. With CC-5576 having escaped, he will be able to inform our enemies of the functions of our new army. We will require security, the likes of which only elite Commandos can offer. RC-1262 will be reconditioned once again to serve our new Empire, or he will be disposed of, like the others.”

Others?

“Wh-Where are my brothers?”

Panic began to swell sluggishly in his chest, fists tightening as he pulled against the restraints, the lights around him getting brighter.

He could see shadows now, echoes of figures who may have been there, or once been with him.

“Do not move, RC-1262,” came the cold, calm reply as a hypo pierced the skin of his neck, cold numbness spreading through his veins like ice.

“Sc-Scorch,” he managed as the darkness began to overcome him once more, “my… my name is… Scorch…”

The pain began again.

#star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #tbb #drabble #angst fic #tbb hunter #rc 1262 #Scorch #star wars republic commando #republic commando #delta squad #clone commando scorch #daniwrites

43 notes · View notes

novemberfyshenuke · 1 month

Text

Trigun AU

I was crying over my exams, so I went ahead and doodled a little more on the dentist au to cope. Here are the headcanons I came up with lol

Livio

Originally, Livio was meant to be a coworker or even an assistant to Knives in his clinic but I had a revelation. I think there's two things he is most likely to be: A dancer and self defense trainer. No one really expects a bulky guy like him to be so free flowing like that. I think it brings such a fun vibe to him.

He has a space above Knives' clinic and can often be seen picking up children from the ground floor.

He grew up in the church with Nico so he's someone who values God.

He slouches as if to make him smaller. The guy struggles to be stern with his students.

Razlo

Razlo is most likely a prosecutor. Livio grew up in a dangerous and terrible environment before he was brought to the church, so Razlo can be fiercely protective over him. That doesn't mean he hasn't hurt him at some point.

Razlo is musically skilled. I like to think the two of them have a thing going on where Razlo starts playing a random tune out loud and Livio's starts vibing to that.

Meryl

She's a journalist. Well, more like a blogger. Milly and her grew up in the same neighborhood and that's how she met Roberto. In her mind, she admires him and his job. As she grew older though, she did come to realize Roberto isn't the flawless role model she always thought of.

She's very perceptive and quite the smart cookie, but tends to get ahead of herself when she's too excited.

Loud unintentionally. It does benefit her with her work at times, but hanging out with friends? Just bury her six feet under, won't you?

She's studying accountancy because. Just because. I see her being stressed out at the data she's had to recompute for the past hour because Vash is being too loud.

Milly

MY GIRLLLLL

She works part time in a cafe/ restaurant her family owns

Roberto is her uncle (DON'T ARGUE WITH ME)

She's really strong from the amount of groceries and stocks she's asked to carry by her family

Also studying accountancy because she saw how determine Meryl was with her studies.

I guarantee you she finishes the homework first and Meryl asks to doublecheck her answers to see if she (Meryl) got it correct.

Many would call her naive but really, she just likes seeing the good in people. Her parents raised their kids that way afterall.

Her family's restaurant is where the gang hangs out most days.

She's really into motocross and that's how she and Nico bonded over.

Isn't really sporty but will definitely join and demolish you in basically any sport. Basketball? Just try dunking that ball when she's guarding. Hockey? Bro those bruises are going to hurt.

She's got really good luck and she's also really good at board games.

She does tend to get overly emotional though and acts before thinking. Meryl is always quick to swoop in and steady her in these situations.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

He's an actual priest. I know he has a lot of repressed feelings because of his duties. I mean. His entire inner monologue is just, "You shine so unbelievably bright. You create hope for the people around you like the very god I worship. But it's not like I'd kiss you on the lips or anything or...or whatever."

He's definitely looks older than he actually is.

Weak lungs when he was a child and he's still on medication. That doesn't stop him from smoking though. Everyone around him is always telling him to stop but his response is always, "They didn't fix my lungs just so I don't make use of them."

He can't grow a beard. The best he can get is his stubble and so he is so envious of Roberto's.

He's always dropping bible verses and then gets corrected by Knives about certain facts from the book. He hates him for it.

Legato

He's a fashion designer. He loves being in the field just not as the main focus anymore.

Elegant af in public and yet so unhinged with his crew.

He's got a wonderful voice; probs does voice acting on the side for animated shows/movies.

I like to think everyone takes a look at his work and then research him only to be jumpscared by his alt lifestyle on instagram.

He's cringe as hell to his friend group ngl. He'd sing his early 2000s Avril Lavigne in that overtly cartoonish emo voice.

He's a little obsessed with getting Knives to model for him after they shared one class in college.

Elindira

An influencer and Livio's business partner.

Much stricter on lessons and I think that's why they're compatible.

She's also a lawyer, because I can see her fighting an argument for Livio and winning.

She's very mature...when's not with Legato. Then they immediately link and start bickering like siblings.

She's the type to use a number of pet names for everyone.

Red sportscar. Red lipstick. In her pajamas and wearing cat-eyed shades while holding her head because of the hang-over she has but she still has to pick up the tiny menace from middle school. (Zazie)

She's a wine aunt and you can't convince me otherwise.

Never had a bad hair day in her life

Terrible blunt about things it honestly causes more harm than good but she won't ever lie to your face.

Vash

He likes collecting happy meal toys and displaying them in a glass cabinet in the family house dining room. This has translated to him collecting every single mascot figurine from business partners and local businesses around the area.

In high school, he worked part-time promoting Milly's family restaurant by spinning a sign around in a beat up rented mascot suit. No one will ever know who the kid behind that giant dog head was.

Mama's boy...cough

He dresses like an 80s rockstar or a biker but he's never actually approached a bike because of Mama Rem's constant helicopter parenting.

People just assume he's a 'bad boy' because he has a piercing and is a little full of himself at times.

When he's not interning at Knives' clinic, he's an emergency medical volunteer.

He's always been more of an 'I excel in theory but not in practice' guy.

He once made a patient's gums bleed and had them sobbing because he was too focused on getting on with the procedure he messed up the prep work.

Sneaks candies from the jar on top of Knives' desk

He has a prosthetic because I think it's funny for boyfailure no.1 to randomly have the batteries die or it doesn't function correctly.

Dyslexic and was quite sensitive as a child so he often got picked on.

Knives

Boyfailure no. 2 is a well-known specialist who's always rebelled against his mom but still ended up following her footsteps in the field.

He's lazy. He really feels disgusted having to stick his hands in someone's mouth cavity, but dang does his morbid curiosity always win.

I like to think he's mellowed out here because Vash and him watched My Little Pony and at the same time Superbook. He's like super confused and yet enlightened by all these moral stories and going, "Yeah, you're right, Jesus. Twilight Sparkle did deserve better!" or something...

His older cousin, Tesla, always picks on him for going by Knives rather than the name their mom picked out for him.

Do I think Knives is a kid who decided to pick a chosen name when he was 12? Yes. Yes I do.

He excels objectively and fails miserably when it comes to subjective things.

He wears sandals. Rem always got him and Vash those Velcro strap shoes so he, although he doesn't want to admit it, doesn't know how to tied his laces. He also refuses to search it up because he's convinced himself that Vash has this wagered war of who learns from the youtube video first.

He has difficulty accepting affection despite having Vash and Rem around because as a child, Vash came first. He needed to be prioritized.

Imma get to the others another time.

27 notes · View notes

beevean · 8 months

Note

I honestly hate the fact that Mia Fey gets killed off so early because it's stated that Mia is hopeless with technology, and I JUST WANNA SEE THAT SHIT!

Mia's treatment is intriguing.

She is, by all intents and purposes, a typical case of a mentor who has to die to allow her student to grow on his own. Not quite a fridged woman (Kazuma goes through a similar thing, so it's not gendered), but yeah, her death is at first the most important part of her.

... but in AA spirit channeling is a core aspect of the lore. So Mia... didn't really "die". Hell, in 1-2, she's the one who has to tell Phoenix "yo dumb dumb, check the back of the receipt", and even blackmails her own murderer with his crimes. (sidenote, Redd White's treatment is just as odd. An extremely influential man, who even has the Chief Prosecutor in his pocket, the murderer of the mentor... and he's just a random buffoon taken down in the second case of the franchise. In another game he would have been the final boss)

But yeah, Mia keeps being called back. In 1-4, they have to come up with an excuse to not make her "available", which also ties with Maya's character development so it works. In 2-4, she's pretty much Maya's and Phoenix' personal cellphone lmao. She's not particularly fleshed out, except for some quirks like what you mentioned, that poster of the movie that made her cry, or her love for Charles the plant, but she is a constant, comforting presence, and she feels real enough.

But T&T finally has the idea of showing her in the past, of fleshing her out beyond "super competent mentor", and it doesn't feel jarring, because we've been with Mia all this time, she just gets the spotlight she deserves. And that's where we see different sides of her, like her trauma related to her horrible first case, the pure anger against Dahlia that she vents by slapping Grossberg, the cocky flicking of her bangs...

And finally, finally, at the end, she leaves for good. She can move on. And it's not just the end of Phoenix' character arc: in a way, she did too, even if the events were presented out of order.

I don't know. I just really love Mia.

but yeah i agree that it would have been funny to see her struggle with technology lol

#ace attorney #mia fey

55 notes · View notes

honeybrowne · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’m sorry if this is like too in depth but I have an idea for Hotch, but I’m horrible at writing 😅 I was thinking that maybe him and reader have unspoken feelings for each other and while they are out with the team, different guys buy her drinks and it makes Hotch jealous when he sees her flirting back with them. There doesn’t have to be smut because I know you only take blurb requests and this is already sort of long lol but I just really loveeeee jealous Hotch! And I think you’d write it well. I love everything you’ve put out so far 🥰

omg jealous!hotch is my fav to write <333 and thank for the kind words 🫂🤍

It took a lot to get under Hotch's skin. During his time as a prosecutor, he learned how to hide his emotions, a skill he's fine-tuned since becoming an agent.

However, it was clear to everyone at the table that he wasn't in a good mood.

From the moment you walked in, men with an embarrassing amount of confidence approached you, offering to buy you a drink. Considering your current bet with Morgan, you accepted each time, gently touching their arm and flashing a sweet smile to make them think they had a chance with you.

Even if they didn't, it drove Hotch insane to watch you openly flirt with other people, especially when he'd been harboring deep feelings for you over the last few months. Feelings he was almost certain you knew about.

In your defense, he hadn't exactly made a move.

Longing stares and brief touches would only go so far, and it was just a matter of time before you'd start looking elsewhere—Hotch knew that. But breaking professionalism to ask out one of his subordinates who he wasn't positive reciprocated his feelings kept him from doing anything he may regret.

Ironically, the only thing he was regretting was keeping his mouth shut.

The fourth man of the night stood beside you at the bar as you ordered another drink, looking much more your type than the rest. At this point, the group didn't even bother to watch the interaction unfold besides Morgan—who was two drinks away from owing you twenty bucks—and of course, Hotch.

His eyes were focused on you, watching as you leaned in closer and propped your chin up with your hand. You seemed much more interested, saying a few words he couldn't make out from this far away.

It was one thing to see you entertain men who were entirely out of your league for your benefit and a total other to watch someone sweep you off your feet. He knew it would only torture him more if he were to stick around.

Before Hotch could witness anything else, he quickly bid everyone goodnight, giving an excuse for his early departure he hoped they'd believe.

They didn't.

Unsurprisingly, you returned with two drinks in hand, and a number scrawled on your forearm. "Derek, I got you a drink I didn't pay for and one for myself... which makes six total."

Morgan shook his head. "Nuh uh, I said six of your drinks. Mine doesn't count."

"Fine," you shrugged. "I'll just drink it, then. I haven't had a martini in a while."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you win."

You smiled victoriously as he handed you the money, tucking it into your pocket. Once you sat down, you noticed someone was missing, a frown taking over your face when you realized who.

"Hey, where's Hotch?"

"He just left," Prentiss chimed in. "I think he got butt hurt watching you flirt with that guy."

What?

It had been your suspicion that he had feelings for you, but you always assumed it was just wishful thinking and pushed the thought aside before it could develop a mind of its own. Not to mention, he was your boss, and the idea of making a fool of yourself in front of your superior sounded like the purest form of embarrassment.

"I don't think he's left yet if you want to go talk to him," Rossi hinted, and you've never run out of a building so fast in your life.

Thankfully, he was still in the parking lot, barely getting to his car. You called out to him a few times, growing frustrated when he didn't acknowledge you. As a last-ditch effort, you said his first name, noticing his hand freeze on the door handle.

Hotch took a deep breath as he turned around, his hands falling to his sides as he rubbed his thumbs over his fingers.

"Did I forget something?"

You crossed your arms. "Yeah, you didn't say bye to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You were a little busy."

How he struggled to meet your eyes was enough to tell you that Prentiss was right, and your suspicions were confirmed. There was no other reason he'd be so upset aside from the attention you'd been getting that wasn't from him. It was so obvious that you felt stupid and didn't realize it until now.

"Not busy enough to where you couldn't interrupt," you enlightened. "And if I upset you, I'm sorry... I didn't know..."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, it isn't your fault. I just— I didn't know how to tell you."

His voice was softer than usual, almost like he was afraid it would break if he spoke any louder. This was uncomfortable for him, even if it was a relief to get his feelings out in the open. He just wasn't good at stuff like this.

When his eyes caught a glimpse of the ink on your arm, the ache in his heart returned. "It's too late, anyway."

"Wait," you pleaded. "No, it isn't."

Hotch paused and nearly melted into a puddle of delight and embarrassment when you grabbed his hand, tugging him away from the car.

"I just want to hear you say it."

"Say what?" he wondered.

You smiled, lacing your fingers with his. "That you like me."

The laugh he tried to stifle expelled from his chest, the prettiest smile you think you've ever seen tugging at his lips. "I've always liked you... just not as much as I do now."

Not knowing what to say, you pulled him in for a hug, sighing contently at the feel of his body against yours. Not that you'd ever admit it—even now—you always wondered what it would be like to feel him embrace you like this, and you realize you hadn't been very generous. It was more comforting than you imagined, his arms strong and firm around you.

"I've always liked you too," you conceded. "A lot."

His smile widened, only loosening his hold to look at you again. "Enough to let me take you to dinner?"

"More than enough," you promised. "Oh, and do you have hand sanitizer in your car? I need to get this off," you said, gesturing to the phone number on your forearm.

"No, but I'll buy you some and wipe it off myself."

#requested #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario

539 notes · View notes

jorrated · 3 months

Text

Some super stray thoughts I had while reading STCO so far:

Knuckles would NOT prioritize his past over Tikal’s suffering are you crazy in the head!!!!

Zak Simond-Hurn’s art is really charming, if it wasn't for the digital onomatopoeias, I wouldn’t mind having this style by a base for an official sonic comic! The design for the red echidna villain however… HM. Not pleasing to the eye.

I like that Ebony are having a bigger role on the fist few issues! But also Ebony’s constantly referring to Super as his friend and doing things to bring him back. Like I get it but also is this going to be her only trait now? Girl…

And porker is going on adventures again. Actually I don’t think they ever explained why Porker went back to being more adventurous in the og comic, participating in Chaos defeat and all. Not against it, and I like to see he still has a bit of bite and wasn't reduced to only a coward, tho it would’ve been cool to see at least a comment on how hes back on “adventuring”.

It’s cool to see Amy dealing with grief over Jhonny (I’ve given up trying to write his name correctly, too weird for me), but IDK. Amy probably was the best grounded character in that situation, so it feels weird to see her distressed over it? I don’t know how to explain it but in my eyes, Amy’s grief for Jhonny would definitively be more melancholic than scary/guilty. I’m glad they are trying to flesh out Amy more, but it doesn’t feel very cohesive with the comic to me. And Jhonny-zombie the killer… a bit tacky but in a funny way.

WHO…. Designed Vichama. I just want to talk. Tell me why you made him look that way. What is that. What went through your head. Dude. I get that Ebony has considerably more anthro body features than the other animal characters, but I feel like Vichama crosses the line into the “gross valley”. If he were drawn closer to how Zachary is I probably wouldn’t care, he probs would’ve looked like an Archie character. But the bulging muscles are kinda upsetting to look at. Cover up man.

So Shadow was created by some enemies of the echidnas. Noted.

Big and the Drakon prosecutor are actually really cute. I like them. Knuckles trying to break Ebony’s spell on Tikal is making me fume. HE WOULDN'T TRY TO DO THAT!!!!! He maybe would be a little desperate trying to trigger some memories but he wouldn't knowingly hurt someone to get information!!!! There is a pannel tho in this part of the comic that makes Knux ask “Where is Porker” and then “Where is the emeralds”. THAT is Knuckles to me, checking in on people before anything else.

Knuckles not being able to carry Big is bullshit. KNUCKLES PUNCHES ROCKS IN HALF LMAO. It’s fine I assume they need to be separated for a reason.

ROUGE STICK LEGS. Somebody please give my girl a double cheeseburger with extra fries and a big gulp of soda.

Actually I love that Rouge is a cunt here. Girlboss!!!! Stole this dudes emeralds AND left them to die, queen shit. Didn’t work but she did have the intent to kill them.

Big wouldn’t eat his friends….. He’d never eat Froggy, and DP (Drakon Prosecutor) even tho looks like a fish, Big considers a friend. BIG WOULDNT THINK ABOUT EATING HIS FRIENDS!!! HE IS A KIND BIG GUY!!!!!!!!!!!! ← most egregious mistake until now. Fucking funny tho can you imagine dying by vore They kept Mighty funny, that’s good.

MMMMN. I like that Sonic is consistently arachnophobic. Really nice continuity. How he first met Shadow tho… It felt underwhelming? Like yeah we know they were going to meet some time but IDK. The framing/pacing is weird to me. Either have them meet quickly at the start of the issue and Sonic is like “IDK WHO that guy is but I don’t like him!!!” or have them meet at the end of the issue, but only show Shadow in shadow (lol) to hook to the next issue. Shadow’s bland ass “I am Shadow” has the same energy as two kindergartners introducing themselves first day of school.

Shadow’s personality is interesting tho. I like him being a bit cocky but not too much, it’s a good take on him, plus he bounces off Sonic pretty well. I do wonder what the hell they’re going to do with him tho.

Awn… acknowledgment of some of the chaotix families… Blockhead Bill my dude

Tikal being given more of a spotlight is neat. It doesn’t give her much, but it’s refreshing to see her thoughts and intentions. However, I can’t help but think that she was mainly inserted to aid Knuckles and be a well of angst. Like IDK, Knuckles has moments mourning his past, or wondering if he will ever understand his ancestors, and Tikal well… She sees things rather than feel? If that makes sense? Like in this comic she is able to see a bit of the past and think “wow this is horrible! Must be a nightmare!” but she doesn’t feel despair? Or anything much? The only moment so far she felt despair was to make Knux Angst, like “ooooh shes suffering so we need to wipe her memories, that means Knuckles wont have his backstories :(“. Smells fishy.

Oh wow, Shadow has an actually interesting backstory here. It gives a reason to follow Robotnik, hate Sonic, not give a shit, aaaand its ambiguous enough you can probably pull off whatever. Fucking congrats STCO writers.

Fave image. What the fuck are they even doing here. Freaks.

Hm. No thoughts on Shadows maybe death. Thematically it’s interesting and all, but we don’t get enough time with him to give a shit. Unless I’m reading it wrong it seems like Shadow is sacrificing himself to save Robotnik, but IDK.

Grimer develops a situatioship depression.

2007 ANTI-ASIAN RACISM. BAD.

Bro what’s with this Knuckles characterization. He would NOT be mean to Tikal. If anything he’d probably be a bit overbearing, trying to give attention to her even if she didn’t want it. I get trying to tie him living his whole life alone being overwhelmed and feeling frustrated that Tikal can’t give him answers, but he wouldn't treat her like crap what is this. I like Porker’s and Knux bro moment, but that doesn’t make up for treating Tikal badly for no reason. Where’s her catharsis? She’s probably just as confused and desperate as Knuckles but she doesn't get any of these moments. Sigh. This idea could’ve definitely worked if Tikal was pushier or more imposing, but like she doesn’t do much, so Knuckles just snaps and it feels off. Knuckles’s stories are probably the issues with the biggest potential, but the writers for sure squander him the most, whomp whomp.

“One of Sonic’s fears is seeing Amy settle down with someone else” no it isn’t shut the fuck up. And the fact they put this on the same level of fear as Jhonny death is deranged.

The tonal whiplash between character comics is p funny honestly. You’ll have one really serious comic followed by a comedic one, lil bit of a mood killer. I guess STC also did this, but to me it at least wasn't jarring like this. Like how am I supposed to process Big getting shot, after Knux and Tikal experiencing the worst nightmare of their lives, living the trauma of seeing million of dead echidnas, after Vector put angel island as a security fund for his ship LMAO.

SONIC CHARACTERS HELPINH OUT THE POLICE SFAJHBJHBWRKJBJB??????!!!!!!!!????????????????????!!!!!!!!!????????11111111!!!!!!!111!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hate this actually.

These Shorty and Tekno comics…… I don’t know what it is about them but god. I just don’t like them! Firstly that now it seems they are a completely separated duo from the rest of the team. Like They don’t interact with Sonic or Amy or whatever. Secondly.. Shortfuse is TOO nice. It doesn’t feel like him where is his tantrums??? And this isn’t a diss on the artstyle itself, cause I think it looks pretty nice and cute, but I don’t think it’s really fitting for the characters? Tekno and Shorty look like they’re in a shoujo manga.

I really like how Sonic is now a loser LOL. He got canceled to hell and back.

Finally Rouge makes and appearance. Kinda only realized how little she showed up during the SA2 adaptation.

Grimer destroying Sonic’s reputation is actually kinda nice. I like that they acknowledge his Robotnik situationship depression, tho I think it’s a bit over the top have him be behind EVERYTHING. Still like it tho. Go gross boy go! (Also the art in this issue is REALLY solid, wow, Zak Simond-Hurn really is my favorite artist from the STCO group).

At some point I think I need to stop complaining about Knux’s characterization. But I Do Not Like How They Write My Boy. Doc Zach is still serving cunt so that’s great. Go grandpa go!

It’s kinda awesome to see how the issues expanded through STCO’s run, but I think having so many stories at the same time kinda makes stuff bloated. Like I’m sure I’ll forget some parts of this, even if they are short bits. Like do we really need to follow 2 sonic stories and 2 amy stories at the same time? I think it would’ve been better to pace this with a limit of 3-4 stories MAX per issue. And then once a character story is done, release the next story with the same character. Sonic and Knuckles are kinda always going to be there, having the biggest pull on the comic’s lore and story, so the other ones could cycle out between amy, tekno, shorty, tails, sonic’s world, chaotix, and so on. I haven’t read some of the other non-sonic stories like decap n attack, but those could be thrown in the cycle too!

Actually I love that DP is just hanging out in Big’s restaurant. It’s goofy I really love it.

I wonder how old Sonic’s gang is supposed to be here. Like in theory some years have passed in the comic, but how many. It’s not important at all but Amy is seen drinking wine with Chrysalis and it’s like?? Is she a kid?? Is she an adult?? Is she underage drinking? Again it’s not a big deal, and I don’t even think these characters need a specific age but IDK this was odd to me.

Oof the multiple stories at the same type problem came instantly. I like how Amy acknowledges the losses of the group, Sonic is “evil”, Jhonny is dead, Tekno is missing and stuff, Porker has PTSD and cant fight… But like. That feels so weird when you have a story right next to it with Amy and Tekno together!!! This is why the pacing and bloating feels whack, the comic has continuity with SOME of the stories but not all so its confusing. I know the OG comic had moments like these but because it had less stories per issue, it was way less noticeable, and usually were one-off stories I think.

And on the topic of Porker, I did mention before how he just kinda.. went back to being more adventurous? But know the comic insists that he can’t do it? Man this is kinda messy. I don’t mind Porker starting to become more adventurous again and then maybe regressing a bit in recovery, being too much for him, but it doesn’t feel like that is what it’s being intended here. It feels like someone read STC and maybe skimmed on STCO and then wrote this, so it feels out of place? Like you have porker in the first issue of STCO going on a mission no problems at all, but then on another issue he goes on a mission to blow up an eggman database or smth and hes freaking the fuck out being nervous all the time. Like which is it!!!!! I don’t mind him progressing and regressing on his trauma but at least acknowledge or be consistent with it! Is it because the underwater mission didn’t involve Robotnik? Is that it? Who knows.

I get that Knux and the crew planned to bait Zachary and shit, but like, then why did they act like that in the previous issue? Like the plan was to break the shield so why did Porker said to Knux be careful about it? Girl. This information is only given to bait and switch the audience and it doesn’t work. Porker and Knux have no reason to pretend to not have a plan when they are alone what.

Tails working with cops I’m going to kill myself.

Oh so like. The special zone is dead for real. Like for real FR. Jesus. Could’ve let the characters grieve a bit huh.

Really liked the #250 issue (Tho its funny that I complained about the number of stories per issue, and then #250 has ONE story LOL)! It’s awesome to see the different arts from the varied artists on the STCO team. And even with my complains and whining, it’s an impressive project full of love, good to see stuff like this!

TURBO TURBO TURBO MY BOY TURBO!!!!

The art on this issue is great but some of the flow of the dialogue is off, as in, sometimes I don’t know which speech bubble I’m supposed to read next, cause usually you go left to right, but it seems this story follows top to bottom for speech bubbles and left to right to panel. Not awful but it did throw me off, and it does fuck up the pacing.

um. hi shadow? ok.

(Only read until issue #250)

#this is long #despite all my gripes it has been an interesting experience #dont take anything i say here as too serious

21 notes · View notes

lizzaneia-elizalde · 2 months

Note

who among your ocs has the worst and when i say worse, the absolute terror and flaming hot jealousy issues? Like idk, top 3 maybe? and who are the top 3 who can handle their jealousy pretty well, but still jealous?

Top 3 yandere men (my OCs) when it comes to jealousy

By the way, happy Valentines day everyone! (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

New to my blog? Check out these jealous men's fics by clicking their names!

Yandere men set 1

Top 3: Damon So, with Damon, we got a glimpse of how he is when it comes to jealousy, right? He had this maniacal, almost serial killer vibes as he killed Jupiter. Alongside with martial artist!Darling and the person darling got too close with. His himbo persona is just a front after all. He's genuinely a scary man who's full on intent on making sure you and everybody else doesn't know of his... Tendencies. So, the more you don't know about Damon, the more of a danger he is to society. So be wise, don't make him jealous, and don't fuck it up.

Top 2: Ignatius He wants your attention all to himself. He wants to hog it, and never let go. If you forgot, he killed off half his crewmates and yours because he absolutely hated it when your attention isn't on him. It wasn't with remorse too, he just straight up made them poisoned pie without hiding the fact. Yet, he's too good of an actor that the police didn't even suspect him. He wants you only for him.

Top 1: Hades When I made Hades, he and Rowan were based on two of the seven deadly sins, with Rowan being Greed and Hades being Envy. Envy and jealousy may not be the same, but they are interconnected, woven from the same thread. And Hades is envy incarnate, and in return, jealous incarnate. It may not be prevalent, but it's what his character is supposed to be, to the point that he suspected even his own men of wanting your love and torturing them.

I genuinely didn't expect top 2 and top 3, but while I was debating to myself about my yan OCs, it felt right having them there LMAO.

Yandere men set 2 (as of Feb 14)

Top 3: Alpheus Alpheus, a man who never felt emotions nor feelings, would be clumsy at handling this newfound feelings. Meaning, he doesn't know how to reel in his actions that are now smeared with emotions. And he probably will not, since the fresh feeling of finally being able to feel was too euphoric to pass up on. So you bet your ass this man will be extremely jealous of all the people who you will talk to.

Top 2: Aeron One of this man's triggers to become the demon king was you not remembering him due to helping people other than him. He also went out of his way to corrupt the fae ring into a binding engagement ring to make sure you will never, ever take it off. So if you think about it, his overdramatic ass moaning about how you didn't remember him and being blinded by his jealousy made him from a Great Hero to the Demon King. SMH.

Top 1: Yuta This man, once revered as the greatest prosecutor, became a serial killer, just because he's jealous that your attention was focused on the mafia bosses (Rowan and Hades) your initial case had! And now, he's smiling like the damn perfect man he is because your attention is back to him. Although, I wouldn't put it pass him to not get jealous of his own serial killer persona too lol.

Okay. This one I somehow expected except for Alpheus. I was thinking of Uno, but no, the man is too secure and overconfident of his own charm to be that level of jealous. Also Viper and Orion, but no. They're not on the same level as these guys.

All in all

Top 3: Aeron

Top 2: Hades

Top 1: Yuta

"Why Yuta and not Hades?"

Honestly, their positions are interchangable. But the reason why Yuta is in number one is due to their background and nature, and not their jealousy level (I know, sounds not right, but I swear I have a reason.)

Hades is envy incarnate, also jealousy. That made his character explainable as to why he has pretty high jealousy levels. He's also a bad guy, a man that crosses with the law.

But Yuta? Yuta is a prosecutor. A man of the law, somebody who upholds it and makes sure all those who opposes meet a fate behind bars. So what happens if he becames thoroughly jealous to the point that he's willing to become the enemy he swore to never be in front of lady justice just because? It's a juxtaposition, and honestly the best option. It goes against his supposed to be morals! (Thanks to 🌼anon for giving me the idea for Yuta! Yuta wouldn't be here w/o them!)

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

35 notes · View notes

smoozie · 17 days

Note

...life series ace attorney au?

colour me intrigued.

I've already explained the jist of it here and expanding on some defense/prosecutor duos I enjoy here

I am so excited to talk abt this!! Feel free to ask more questions! I'm using this ask as an excuse to talk abt design ideas regarding the lawyers!

Starting off with Gem, whose design I've already finished!! She has a similar silhouette to Apollo's angsty Dual Destinies design with her (green) jacket over her shoulders because of the shawl(?) In her hc10 skin and witch skin. I gave her a white button up with a yellow tie since a lot of her skins have yellow/gold accents. I also gave her a corset because of the corset for her empires skin (now sure what season, I haven't watched her empires u-u). I've given her a single glove as a reference to her hc10 skin and to Athena's single glove, since I think Athena and her share some fun similarities. Finally she has some grey pants (Capcom give these lawyer women pants!!) And brown dress boots.

Unfortunately, Gem's design was the easiest for me! I'm trying to keep the defense side relatively simple as you'll notice in aa they tend to be (rip Athena). I don't want everyone in a basic suit tho so I am trying to mix things up a bit. Would love some suggestions! As for the others, I have some ideas

Scott's S1 Empires skin is actually perfect! It's that multicolored tunic that could easily be depicted as a suit jacket with a white dress shirt underneath. Could be fun to mess around with what kind of shirt he's in or a neck accessory besides a tie. Other than that I haven't got much for him. Ace attorney lawyers also tend to be strongly color coded, so a multicolored suit may break that aa feel, but uh it's more fun <3. I may end up playing around with the colors anyway.

Mumbo's design is actually the easiest. I had more fun with Gem, hence why she was done first, but Mumbo is already wearing his ace attorney suit design lol. I kinda want to play around with it a bit more, but I may end up settling on his self imposed aa design.

Scar has an extremely unique problem for me where he actually has too many fun lawyer-adjacent skins. Particularly his hc8 and limited life skins. They are both very iconic to me but would be difficult to actually mesh into one deisgn. Additionally I ADORE the color pallette of his secret life skin (og, but red is good too) but I'm not sure if I could include it. Altogether Scar is the hardest!! If I pick one route I feel like I'm losing so many possibilities! And I don't want to just copy one skin of his, like Gem I want their to be numerous references to different skins. May have to study the aa wiki defense attorneys to get some better in-universe outfit ideas.

I've been having some trouble with Grian as I wanted to include his iconic sweater without breaking the prosecutor vibe. The prosecution tends to have more wild or whimsical (see Nahyuta) designs. However, I think Grian may end up on the more simple side of the prosecutor spectrum, Edgeworth is a more simple prosecutor anyway and Grian is Edgeworth-adjacent. Come to think of it tho, his poultry man skin looks stupidly similar to Gregory Edgeworth. Could do smth with that maybe hmmm.

Etho's design is actually pretty straightforward from his skin. And he only has one to work with haha. What I'm picturing looks a lot like Godot's outfit, he even has a mask on lol. I'm probably gonna try to make it pretty unique, but it is hard to resist the urge to just turn those sleeves into a button up and that green into a suit vest.

Joel is one I'm trying to play around with more. I've perused his skins and haven't had any stand out as super lawyer-y. His default is fun enough to work with tho! Gem's comment of his weird vest thing as a corset is making me consider giving him a corset (he and Gem can match!). I'm trying to distinguish him from Shrek as much as possible while still keeping recognizable elements from his default. All in all I think he'll be fun.

CLEO oh BOY am I excited for Cleo. I'm thinking a lot of Franziska's silhouette with Cleo, focussing on extravagant sleeves, particularly relating to that blue dress skin of Cleo's. I'm also thinking of Nahyuta's detailing. Cleo's skins, to me, give the perfect amount of inspo without spelling anything out. I'll probably stick to her usual color pallette, but playing around with her 80s skin colors could be fun! Cleo is very exciting for me!

Finally, Pearl. When it comes to Pearl's design, her top aa influence is Barok van Zieks. I adore his cape and would really like to use it as a reference to scarlet Pearl. I also really like his soldier-esc getup underneath it, and while I wouldn't go as heavy handed with it, I am tempted to take some bits. I also really like Lana Skye for Pearl as a design reference, but mostly for her sprites. Pearl will not be crazy corrupt like her, but I would like to draw some parallels

#on a fun side note I realized after my post the other day when I mentioned Scott being rather calm for a defense #he's like Kristoph #like obvi there are other calmer defense than our main cast #but he is given me very similar vibes to Kristoph #I think the fact he has Jimmy as a co-counsel contributes to this #smooziespeaks #ask #dragonanswers #life series #trafficblr #traffic smp #life smp #Hey if ur just finding this and didn't look at my og posts and are upset I didn't include ur fav in this au #I DID #I only mentioned defense/prosecution in this podt #if ur fav isn't here they are either co-counsel detective or Martyn #Martyn being the judge lmao #ALSO #I know in the body here I mentioned Gem's silhouette was reminiscent of Apollo's in dd #this is because his dd inspired the suit jacket on the shoulders look #but her silhouette is ACTUALLY more like Sebastian Debeste's #I just forgot he had that jacket until now

11 notes · View notes