#father toller

[thetzar]

[cryobabiess]

girldad!geta pleeease!

Filia Divina

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader

Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny

AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!

It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.

The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.

“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.

“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.

Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.

“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.

Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“

Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.

“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.

“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”

Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.

“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.

In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay, exhausted and perspiring, like a holy monument.

“Show me the child.”

“My love, I beg you—“

“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.

You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.

“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.

To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.

You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.

“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.

“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.

Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.

“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.

“She will have my name! It is done.”

As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.

“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”

You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.

“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”

[pyjamatranslation]

The Agony & The Ecstasy

Part 1 of 2.

Plot: A woman is sentence to death for murdering her husband. In the cells of the Colosseum, she meets Lucius. 900 words.

Warning: Mentions of a shitty husband, loss of child, blood, murder, suicide.

A/N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. After some light research, ancient Rome was not a nice place to be a woman.

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Lucius lay on his cot, near sleep despite the chaos of sounds beyond his cell.  Injured men groaned in agony as they tried to survive the night.  The animals of his homeland grunted and snorted at whim.  Footsteps now scuffled along the sand walkway with the distinct sound of something being dragged.  A cell was opened then locked, the footsteps receding. He tried to quiet his curiosity and nearly succeeded until a woman screamed.  Jolting up in bed at the sound of it, he thought of his wife.  The scream hadn’t been one of fear or injury, but of rage and strength.  His wife made that sound on the battlefield many a time.  Standing now, he pressed himself against his cell door to see more.  

In the cell diagonal to his, a woman paced back and forth.  He would have thought the dark red stains on her stola were wine if not for the pattern he knew came from blood spraying out of a mortal wound.  He had seen her before, in the stands of the Colosseum sitting next to the senators. 

“My lady,” he called.  She whipped her head towards his voice, the way the tigers did when you walked too close to their cages.  Her eyes were wild and glistened with unshed tears that reflected the flames of the torches lining the tunnel.  “Whose blood is that?”  She looked down at herself as if unaware of the stain upon her clothes and hands.  

“My husband’s.  A beloved senator of Rome.”  Disappointment escaped him as a sigh, a pity it wasn’t the General’s or one of the emperor’s. 

“Not beloved by all.”  She looked at him briefly then moved to rattle the door of her cell, her frustration making it a valiant effort.  “What did he do to you?”  He wondered.  She kept her hands wrapped around the bars but knelt gently as her adrenaline faded and gave way to exhaustion.

“I gave birth today.”  Lucius thought she was ignoring his question until she continued, “My husband refused the baby.”  The tears that threatened to fall earlier fell now, a mark down each cheek, the wet lines a tragic war paint.  “It’s the second time he’s done it.”  Lucius moved from standing at the bars to sit and lean against them.  He thought of the Roman custom tollere liberos of laying the newborn on the ground for the father to see.  Picking it up and raising it into the air was a father’s way of accepting to raise the child.  If the father didn’t, the child was abandoned, left outside to the elements and the animals. “I created life, I carried the child.  Yet he has the power to decide its fate.  Why?  What has he done to earn that right?”  She looked to Lucius like he might have the answer.  He didn’t.  “I created life.  I took his away.  I earned that right.  My body, my child, my hand on the knife.”  Lucius watched as she leaned her head again the metal bars.  Tomorrow they’d hand her a wooden sword and she’d fight for her life in the Colosseum, punishment for killing a man, but in truth, it was punishment for daring to fight against a system that gave her no control over her life.

* * * * * * *

Lucius knelt in the arena, his hands sifting through the sand and remembering everyone he’d lost.  It was over now, there would be no more bloodshed.  No more pain.  The grief would be his lifelong companion but there would be comfort in that familiar pain.  He tensed at the sound of movement, swivelling his head to find the source of it.  The lady had survived the day, but barely.  She half crawled, half hobbled towards the downed body of a royal guard, one arm wrapped around herself.  Lucius breathed in relief and wondered how long before the idea of peace settled in and he no longer needed to fight and watch for threats.  He stood to go to her, watching as she reached for the guard’s sword.  Swaying to a standing position, she held the sword up and Lucius could see the colourful clouds reflected in the blade as he approached her.  He watched in horror as she turned the sword around so it pointed at herself.  His relaxed footfalls turned to hurried steps as he ran towards her.

“No!” he called out.  Jarred by his voice, she stumbled as she turned to see who was there.  Almost within reach of her now, he slowed as she pointed the sword at him.  

“Leave me be,” she said, her voice shaking.

“I will not let another drop of blood fall in this sand.”  She moved her hand away from her waist to show him the blood pooling into the fabric of her dress there.

“Let me go,” she pleaded.  He stepped closer to try to help stop the bleeding but she swung the sword at him.  He dodged it and caught her wrist, twisting it with enough pressure to have her yelp and drop the sword.  He regretted the first but was relieved by the second.  His other hand came around her to press against the wound at her side.  She hissed at the pain. 

“We need to get you to a doctor.”  She fought his embrace,

“I cannot bear to be a childless mother.  Release me of that agony, please, have mercy on me.”  There was a time when he did not care if he lived or died.  Having seen the light beyond that darkness, he couldn’t leave her lost in hers.  

“I will find your child,” he promised.  She stopped fighting him, tilting her head to look at him.  Her hand wrapped around his wrist but it was her expression of wonder and gratitude that grabbed a hold of him.  This moment touched him more deeply than the accolades and applause of the amphitheatre were ever meant to.   

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Thanks for reading!

[justjudethoughts]

Someone in class today pointed out that the reason Eómer is the one who is with Eówyn when she wakes up is because she canonically has a deeper love for Eómer than Aragorn. She doesn't know that, but she does. So when Aragorn has done all he can to heal her physically, he slips away and tells Eómer to hold her hand and keep calling out her name. It's the voice of her brother calling her name that wakes her. It's the voice of the last person alive that she truly, deeply loves.

Bonus points for the fact that in Prince Caspian, when Aslan calls Lucy's name and wakes her from sleep, the first two people she thinks the voice might be are 1) her father and 2) Peter.

Nobody writes brother-sister dymanics like Tollers and Jack.

[autumnvine]

Meeting the parents

Summary: Set after Accidental Love, after the Chitauri attack on New York, You had become rather fond of Loki, the question was, did he feel the same?

"Loki, you mentioned Asgard before, what is it?"

"My Kingdom."

"Where is it, like in europe or something?"

"What is europe?" remarked Loki

"It's the other side of the world, miles across the ocean." trying to explain the globe to the God was a little more difficult then imagined.

"Asgard is not of this world, it is lightyears from here. Traveling through the Bifrost makes it simpler."

"What's a bifrost? Will you show me one day?"

"No more questions for now mortal." Loki answered, he never really called you by your name, you questioned whether or not he even knew it, or remembered it.

Loki stood above you, almost towering over you, the height difference was rather lengthy between you two, Loki was not a lover of the mortals, that he had made very clear, but you were different, he could tollerate you. After all you stood by him when noone else would, his own brother turned his back against him, the rightful King. It had been quite some time since the Chituari attack upon New York, you had grown rather fond of Loki, something about him was taking over your everythought, involuntarily, not caused by the tesseract, but something else. Something wonderful.

Loki had been hiding out in an abandoned wherehouse, re-evaluating his situation, he kept you around tho, always by his side, you offered to help him with whatever he needed, without attacking anyone however. Torrential rain poured down from the hevens, closely followed by thunder and lightning. Loki watched in slight fear of his brother making an unrequested appearance.

"What, you're not afraid of a little lightning are you?" you asked giggling slightly

"I'm not overly fond of what follows." Loki remarked without looking at you, keeping his gaze on the dark clouds rolling in over head. You moved cautiously toward his side, whispering his name, "It's just a little rain, do you not have that in Asgard, it's mostly harmless really, it doesn't hurt you or anything, you just get a bit wet." Loki scoffed at your attempt to comfort him, he was a God, not afraid of rain, or anything for that matter, and here he stood a mortal at his side, offering words of comfort. A rather large thud came from the tin roof sheilding you from getting wet. "He's here" Loki smirked in amusement, knowing fine well his brother would come sooner or later.

"Who?" you questioned, "What has that?" Loki gave no reply.

A man, long blonde hair to his shoulders, red cloak, metal armour covering his body, walked toward you and Loki,

"Brother!" The other man shouted to Loki, seeing his look drop, somehow you got the feeling this was not for exchanging plesenteries.

"I thought you dead"

"Did you mourn?" asked Loki

"We all did, our father, our mother, we were raised together, we fought together, we played togehter Loki, do you remember none of that?"

"You tossed me aside, cast out by your father. I became a ruler, I led the army to this mortal planet, I've seen world's you have never known about. I built an empire, that was shortly destroyed."

"Come home Loki, give up this poison, stop this madness. I miss you, our mother misses you, our father misses you."

"Your father" Loki hissed

Uncomfortably standing watching the brothers argue with eachother, not knowing wether to leave or stay, interrupt or stay quiet. You stood beside Loki, slowly moving infront of him to protect him from the war you expected to erupt between the two brothers

"Don't hurt him, please" You whispered  

"Brother who is this?"

Loki stood tall staring at his brother

"Mortal, my brother Thor son of Odin, God of Thunder." you bowed slightly unsure of what to do in the prescence of a God

"Thor, this is the only mortal who stands by her King."

"Nice to meet you, what's your name?" Thor asked

"Y/n" shyly whispering to the God standing no less then three feet infront of you.

"Loki, come home, please. I miss you, it isn't the same without you. Tricks, games and all."

"Did they send you?" Loki snapped, disregarding everthing his brother had just told him. "Did Odin send you to collect me, so I can once again be prisoner to my own home? I don't think so." Loki chuckling to himself in disbelief, he knew he was destined for greatness, he knew Odin wanted him to keep as a wepon ready for war. Loki knew he was of no use to Odin after finding out thr truth of his real herritage, and the real reason for his salvation as a child.

"Noone sent me Loki, why won't you believe me. I came to get my brother back, they don't know I'm here, they don't know your hear. They think you dead Loki, Our mother thinks your dead Loki. Come home, if not for me, then do it for her. She loves you Loki" 

After some time and much deliberation Loki agreed to what once was his home, to return to Asgard with his brother, Thor insisting upon bringing you too, explaining how it would be good for him to have someone he trusts, and someone who believes in him. "Hold onto me" Loki told you, you wrapped your arms around him, his arm around your back holding you close to him. Both of you enjoying the closeness but not acknowledging it. Being lifted through the air, through time and space itself, traveling into a rainbow of colours of it were. not believing what you were seeing you held on tighter to Loki, almost trying to seek protection from his embrace.

Unsure of how this was even possible, teaveling, flying without an airplane, flying to another world that just a year ago you didn't even know it excisted. Arriving in Asgard your feet hitting firmly off the floor, Loki holding you tighter, catching you from falling.

"Welcome to Asgard" Thor excited to have his brother finaly come home. The three of you walking across the bridge into the city of Asgard. Almost every Asgardian stopping in their tracks staring at Loki and you, whispering amongst them, almost everyone kneeling at the brothers walking past. Feeling very overwhelmed as you looked around, seeing a beautiful city, pristine gardens everywhere, everything was clean nothing like New York at all. Taking in everything, Loki was confused to why everyone was staring in disbelief. "This is the palace" Two guards either side opened up the huge doors to the golden palace. Great statues of the God's who had come before, towers with beautiful paintings, nothing like you'd ever seen before.

"Loki" you heard a womans voice, soft and gentle standing in a long hallway. Loki turned to face her, "Mother" Loki looking like a frightened child lost in the woods. Tears pricking his eyes, shoulder dropping in relief to see her.

"Oh Loki" Frigga running to her son holding him close, afraid to let him go as if he weren't real "My son is home" kissing his forhead, turning to you, "And who is this beautiful lady whom accompanys him?"

You bowed "I'm y/n I'm friends with Loki, your majesty"

"Y/n it's lovely to meet you my dear, my son is lucky to have someone like you in his life, if there is anything you need please ask anyone and we shall accommodate, your welcome to stay here dear as long as you wish." Frigga was so lovely to you, blushing and thanking her she walked with you and her boys through the halls "Thor does the allfather know you have returned?" she asked

"Not yet mother, I am confident he shall know soon."

After a while of reaquainting Loki with his mother you were walking around the palace gardens as the two sons spoke prievtly with the allfather. Not wanting to attend the sure to be a delightful experience with the possibility of war between the Gods, you chose the serenity of the palace. Wandering timelessly thoughts all new and wonderful, staring at a statue of what once was. Odin and Frigga standing tall and proud above their two boys Thor and Loki beautiful carved writing "Vires in familia" puzzled to what language or what it read, "strength amongst family my dear" a soft voice read from behind you,

"Your highness" turning and bowing "It's beautiful, you seem like a very lovely family, you really care for your sons" you whispered

"My dear, you may hide your feelings from yourself, but from the God's it doesn't work"

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" you asked Frigga "I can see it in your eyes, I heard it in your voice introducing yourself as Loki's friend earlier, there's pain behind that word, friend. You wish to be more am I correct?" you stood at a loss for words, how was iti she knew, what you felt, how she knew everything.  Why couldn't Loki see that? you asked yourself.

"My dear, he knows" Frigga spoke softly to your confused look across your face. She gave you lots of advice, shared family stories of Thor and Loki as children, how Loki would trick Thor into almost anything he didn't want to do, Loki learnt from a young age he was special, he had certain abilities. Shapeshifting, shadow casting, and much more you had never seen only drempt of. Frigga spoke very highly of Loki she explained too you how when Loki found out he was adopted he took it very badly, given the circumstances Frigga explained she wanted to tell him, just the two of them, however instead Odin screamed at it him when he found the truth out for himself on acciden about his true herritage. Hearing Loki upset it hurt a little part of you.

"He likes you, Yn, he's either too stubborn or afraid to tell you, but I see the way he looks at you when your not watching, he gazes at you, I think you should tell him how you feel, your good for him Y/n."

As night rolled in you continued to have a hearty conversation with the allmother, it was a lovely night, very special Frigga had opened her heart and her home to you, someone she barely knew and made you feel so relaxed and comfortable "Come my dear, you must meet the allfather, however he can be slightly intimidating at first but do not worry I will be right beside you.

Your heart pounding in your chest as you were about to meet thee Odin, unsure of how to conduct yourself. There he was, sitting on the golden throne with a staff in hand, you bowed to the floor beneath him, until he allowed you to stand.

"What business do you have here mortal?"

You panicked and got all flustered "I....Um..I, I'm"

"She is accompanying your sons" Frigga spoke up for you

"With Loki, he's my friend"

Odin sat unamused by you, "But I can go though, I know I sort off dropped by unnanounced, in faireness it wasn't my decision, it was-"

"Silence mortal" Odin shut down your ramblings,

"Now what is your purpose for being in Asgard?"

"I like your son okay, and Loki told me to hold onto him and he would take me through the rainbow lights to get here. I'm sorry I didn't mean to cause any issues."

"Your dismissed" Odin practically asking you to leave.

Bowing before turning to leave you walked endlessly through the halls of Asgard Palace, not knowing where you were going you turned the corners until finding a room filled with books upon books, sheves filled to the celling. Each old and well read, binder covers torn and slightly freyed around the edges, you walked through the different aisles seeing each book differently, none like you had seen on earth ever before.. Some in Asgardian, some in english, some in various languages you'd never seen before. Leaning over the corner of the end shelf you found a huge window chair, the window stained glass with a wolf and what you were sure to be a woman warrior. "This is amazing" saying quietly to yourself, meandering round from the back of the suite, eyes fixated on the portrait, seeing something move slightly in the corner of your eye. "OH I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" becoming rather startled and awkward "Do you like it here?" Sudden relaxation washed over you, it was just Loki, "it's Beautiful Loki, your very blessed to grow up in a place like this"

"Blessed? Have you met the allfather?" Loki chuckled

"I see your point. I met him breifly, he is very intense, I don't think he cares for my being here. I didn't mean to introude, I can go?"

"Stay. Please, So you met the allfather"

"I did, not a very charming man."

"You met my mother?"

"Awwh Loki your mother is fantastic, she has such a gentle soul, she's a beautiful person. And she told me alot about you and Thor and your childhood, she gave me some advice too."

"Oh, and what would that be?" The God asked while still looking down at his book. You fumbled with your fingers working up the nerve to tell the God what he already knew. "We're friends right?"

"We are" Loki answered

"What if we were more then friends, how would you feel about that?" The silence could have been cut with a knife, it was rather uncomfortable, having your feelings out there in the air like so. Loki lifted his head from the pages, closing the book over and setting it to his side, his eyes feeling like there burning a hole through your soul, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything Loki, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-" stopping talking as Loki stood infornt of you, your heart couldn't possibly be beating any faster then it already was. "I, Loki I'm-" "Sshh my dear" gently he rested a finger upon your lips, holding your breath for a second. "I know not what kind of trickery this is, but it is neither funny, nor amusinng, rather insulting, now you may tell my brother that his pathetic attempts to get back at me are useless."

"Loki, he didn't send me, this isn't a trick. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry" Lowering your head with embarisment and shame, completely mortified actually. Loki liffted your chin with his finger, "You're certain this is no trick?" shyly nodding

"Then I would very much like to be more then friends with you Yn" blushing and smiling from right to left. "Please sit with me"

"What were you reading, you know before I interrupted you"

"It's called Romeo and Juliet, would you like to hear some?" the God asked you, "Thee Romeo and Juliet, the tragic forbidden love story between two lovers, families at war, ending in soul destroying tragedy."

"What sort of Midguardian horror fiction have you been reading?"

"Apparently not the same story" you laughed

"This isn't about romance, especially no love story. More of a... well it's complicated., So would you like to hear some?"

"I'd love that"

Listening to Loki read paraghraps upon paragraphs, page after page, the sun slowly setting through the painted window, slowly moving further and further down the couch, eyes growing heavier with each word, his voice very peaceful and calming, soothing your running thoughts. It had grew late into the night, you were sound asleep on Loki's lap, he continued to read to you, but also gazing at you his heart brimming with joy and pride knowing you were his, as he was yours. Perhaps this was the beggining of something wonderful, more magical then anything the God had ever seen before. Loki sat there perfectly still afraid of moving incase he woke you, a light shaddow appearing infront of Loki, "She trusts you Loki" Frigga smiling at the picture of her son content, finally happy. "Keep her safe" "Always" he replied "Thank you mother" Frigga vanshed into the air, you shifted slightly againt Loki getting a little more comfortable. Closing his book he hovered his arm slightly above you, deciding to rest gently above you, he couldn't help but smile at the midguardian finding peace in the arms of a God.

Taglist

@plutoispurplw

[australet789]

We talk about Alastor betraying Charlie

Now imagine Lucifer and Alastor actually starting to get along because they live under the same roof and they both care about Charlie (in their own way)

Imagine Lucifer thinking he found a friend to talk to and doesnt mind about his rants and overexpressivenes, and can finally vent about Lilith and how much he misses her

Imagine Alastor noticing how much Lucifer resembles Charlie, how he is already used to her, mind as well tollerate the father. And then realising how sad the man is and how much Lilith ruined another life too. How maybe not all fathers are all that bad.

Imagine both men still trolling the heck out of each other but they enjoy the banter, finally someone whom to have fun with and wont hold back with the pranks.

And then Lilith comes back

And Charlie's heart is not the only one broken but Lucifer's too when the one he was starting to call "friend" knew where his wife was all along.

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

I'd like to bring up a second the way Intersectionality works in the Thaumaturge.

The Thaumaturge is a game set in 1905 Warsaw, Tsarist Empire. It presents a universe where everything is the same but some people can be Persona Users. This is a genetic condition inherited from parent to child.

Of course Thaumaturges are a Magical Minority seen with distrust if not outright oppressed, especially in the notoriously fucked up Tsarist Russia.

You can, playing the game, see a lot of parallels with IRL discrimination in the game. At one point you find a book called "The Precepts of the Masters of Thauma" or something, which is word for word an adaptation of the Protocols of the Elders if Zion but for Thaumaturges, you find a letter by a British man talking about how superstitious easterners were, and how it was a proven fact one could "fix" Thaumaturges with a lobotomy, you see a mother force an exorcism on her Thaumaturge child for "acting up" and being weird to her because "the devil stole him from me," again a lot of parallels with real life minorities and their oppression.

Except...

The protagonist of the game is Wictor Szulski. He's high bourgeoise, his father is a rich polish businessman, his mother is the sister of a high ranking russian officer in Poland. He lives in a grand, posh house, not having to work, always settling his debt by writing a cheque his sister will pay, and the one time he committed a major crime, his father and his connection instantly bailed him out, before he started a pleasure trip to France as a teenager and then all around the world.

He is still oppressed, he is still mistrusted, he is still victim of discrimination, but the thing is, he is so high bourgeoise he has it way better than others.

Contrast Ariel Rofe or Madame Samira, two other Thaumaturges he meets. Rofe is Jewish, Samira is... I think she's Romani, the first one lives in the slums, the other has to pretend to be a Charlatan Medium just to get by.

Contrast his Non Thaumaturge Sister Ligia, who is his same social class and yet is ostracised and mistreated for her gender, for her desire to take over her father's business, for her feminist leanings.

Contrast Wanda, the Socialist Leader, and all other left leaning characters in the game calling him out for his privileged position even if you try to play him as the most socialist possible.

Contrast the Doctor, a Tatar, a Muslim, a Polish Man, a Thaumaturge who supports the first and only female doctor in Warsaw.

Contrast the Lechites, a Nationalist Polish Independence group who is trying to create a "Pure" Poland, erasing all other foreigners and minorities from it.

The game is rife with parallels to real life minorities, while also talking at length about real minorities and how that intersections with one another.

And how those minorities can also be exploited, exploited by Fear, and by Power.

And how the only way to win, truly win, is to stay united as a community, together, united, against the overwhelming weight of authoritarian power, but again without tolerating those who wouldn't tollerate us in turn.

Case in point, Wanda shooting the Lechites dead if you give her the chance, despite their alleged common goal of a free Poland, because you shouldn't exchange a tyranny with another.

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Her Outlaw Hero" (Sons Of Anarchy-Chibs Chapter fic) Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Original Characters in this story. I am only using Kurt Sutter's characters from Sons of Anarchy. He created the characters and the show—I am in no way taking any credit for his creations. This story is for entertainment only. Content/Warnings: Violence against both men and women including rape. Summary:

Adelaide Watson is fleeing Tennessee—on the run from her violent past.

When she has a car accident on a lonely road in Charming, California, she has no choice but to walk to town for help. But help comes to her instead. In a very unexpected way.

Note: I must confess, this is all I have written so far, and I have no idea when I'll get more posted because I don't know where to take it. Hope you understand and enjoy regardless!

Chapter 6

Angela tried to calm her heart rate as she disconnected the phone call. "So the cops know Addy's missing now," she thought out loud. Please, Lord… Let them find her car in the river. Let them think she's dead. Please keep her safe from Liam, she prayed. She sat at her desk in her den, in the middle of grading a test paper for her ninth-grade English class, and rubbed her temples. "Please, forgive me of the lies I told, also. I know they were to protect Addy, but they were still lies nonetheless."

Taking a moment to think over everything she'd said to the detective, she could recall no detectable mistakes in her story. I hope she got far away from here and they never find her, she thought. She shuddered to think what would happen to her should Liam find her.

Oh, Lord, what will I do if Liam shows up here to question me, she wondered. I'll just have to be prepared to tell him what I told that detective and stick to it. And not back down.

Telling herself that matter was settled, Angela forced herself to dive back into her paper grading and pushed Liam Toller out of her mind.

She only had a few papers to finish when a loud crackle of thunder sounded outside and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The sound of hard falling rain came next and she couldn't help but think of Adelaide.

"She always loved the rain and thunderstorms," Angela whispered to herself. She was such a happy, fun-loving person. She took pleasure in the little things. Will she ever get to be that way again, Lord? Is she doomed to always look over her shoulder and be scared? Please, watch over her, Father. Where ever she is, keep her safe. Send someone into her life that will protect her and fight for her.

She sobbed softly as she thought of her friend. I miss her so much, she thought, sniffling. I know we did what was best for her, but it doesn't stop me from missing her.

Too depressed to continue with her paper grading, she stood from her desk and prepared to get ready for bed, making a mental note to get up a little early and finish the last few papers in the morning.

000000

Adelaide was aware of a shiver racking her body as she struggled to open her eyes. Her lips parted as she attempted to speak, but only a soft whimper emerged. Her eyes finally fluttered open and she gazed around the darkened room she was in.

A bed, she thought, as she noted the familiar feel of a mattress beneath her. She moved slowly to a sitting position, gasping softly as her ribs exploded in fiery agony. She nearly cried out from the pain as she made her way wobbly to her feet. It was then that she noticed she was only clad in her under garments. Alarmed, she quickly grabbed at and wrapped the sheet around her slender frame for some modesty. As she moved farther away from the bed, she felt a slight tugging sensation on her hand. Turning to see what was making her mobility difficult, she noticed the IV hooked up to her hand. She followed the tubing with her eyes trying to see where it ended, which led her to also notice the man sitting in a chair next to a makeshift IV stand. He appeared to be asleep, with his head propped in his hand. Peering slightly at him, Adelaide recognized him as the goateed Scotsman who'd…

Frightened me to death, she thought, apprehension filling her heart. She turned back to the IV bag and began inspecting the tubing, trying to figure out how to free herself from the constraint. She eyed the IV port and contemplated pulling the needle out. The mere thought brought on a wave of queasiness and made her lightheaded all over again. She didn't deal well with needles. Gingerly, she began to remove a strip of the tape that held the tubing in place.

In the next instant, a light came on in the room and a warm hand took hold of her arm, gently turning her around. She faced the man who was asleep only seconds before. She was taken aback by his striking features. He was even more handsome than she recalled earlier in the day, though older. He appeared to be in his late forties—maybe early fifties. His black eyes scanned over her face and lingered for an instant on her mouth before moving back upward to her own eyes. His dark but graying hair was lightly mussed, but he brushed it back as he moved closer to her.

In her fear, Adelaide stepped backward and her foot fell on her sheet. To her dismay, the makeshift garment slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She gasped softly and tried to back away even further but the man kept hold of her arm. Add in the fact that her back literally hit the wall—she was quite trapped. The man's dark gaze wandered over her now mostly exposed slender frame and panic seized her.

Not again, she thought. "No, please…" she cried, trying to tug her arm free. "Don't…"

To her surprise, he released her arm and reached up to her face. His hand caressed her cheek for a moment before moving to her neck and lingering at her pulse point.

"Your heart is racing," he murmured in his thick Scottish burr. "But your skin is cool enough." He let out a sigh laced with frustration when he noticed the look of fear on her pale face. "Don't be afraid, lass. You're safe. We brought you here for medical attention since you were adamant that you didn't go to a hospital." He then bent down to retrieve her sheet "I won't hurt you," he said softly. "I was only trying to keep you from ripping that IV out. You need it right now." He paused a moment, and spoke again. "I'm sorry for staring at ya. I can see you've been through a lot. But, I am a man, I'm afraid, and I can't help ogling the beauty of a woman more often than not," he chuckled. He tossed the sheet onto the bed and then lifted her suitcase onto the bed as well. Why don't you pick something out of here to wear? You'll feel less vulnerable that way. But, pick something as thin and light as you can. You need to stay cool for now." He moved toward the door as Adelaide dug through the suitcase. "I'll go get you something to drink. You need all the fluid you can get."

"W-wait," Adelaide finally spoke out softly before he could leave.

He turned back to face her, "Yeah?"

"Your name," she asked with timidity. "You saved my life and I don't even know your name."

His lips curved upward in a smile and a dimple appeared in each cheek above his scars, "It's Chibs. And you're Adelaide. We saw your ID."

With that, he left the room and Adelaide quickly grabbed a silky, teal-colored nightgown and tugged it over her head. Then she found a hairbrush and unplaited her hair. She began running the brush gently through her waist-length hair, getting rid of any tangles. Wincing in pain when she had to reach upward to her scalp, she opted to leave the thick tresses down for simplicity's sake. She turned to put the hairbrush back in her suitcase but moved too quickly, however, and struggled to fight off another wave of dizziness. She heard something being set down on the dresser then and in the next second, felt strong arms envelope her as she sank toward the floor.

"Whoa, I got ya," she heard Chibs utter softly. "You need to be in bed. You're too weak to be up and about."

"I'm beginning to see that," Adelaide replied, holding her swimming head as Chibs carried her to the bed and gently deposited her onto it. "What happened to me? I haven't felt this horrible before in my whole life."

"Sunstroke," Chibs answered. "You'd walked a long distance in the heat and it nearly killed ya, woman." His tone turned lightly scolding as he approached the dresser and retrieved the glass of drink, "Have you ever had a fever of 107 before?"

His question was rhetorical, she knew. He'd asked to make it clear she shouldn't do anything so stupid again. He handed her the glass of drink and sat down beside her on the bed, "It's just Gatorade," he assured her as she looked at the drink quizzically. "It'll help get your electrolytes back in balance. Just sip. Gulping will make you sick."

"Can't say as I have ever had a fever that high, no," Adelaide finally answered after a few sips of fluid. "Well, that explains why I was almost naked. Thank you—for saving me. And I'm sorry I made it so difficult." She heard Chibs chuckle lightly and dared to make eye contact with him.

"You're welcome," he replied softly. "And it wasn't actually what I'd call difficult. Don't flatter yourself," he joked with a twinkle in his eye.

Adelaide recalled a hand going over her mouth, then gasped at the next memory that surfaced. "Did I bite you—your hand," she asked, feeling immense guilt.

This time Chibs let loose with a full-fledged laugh, "No, that was my friend, Tig. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Don't worry."

She nodded, as she finished her drink and then settled against the pillows.

"You need to rest, till we make sure your temperature is permanently stable now," Chibs told her as he took her glass and set it on the night table, then covered her again with the light sheet.

"I'm freezing," Adelaide said. "Could I cover up a little more? Please?"

Chibs considered it, and gave a slight nod. "I guess so. Your skin feels very cool. But I need to keep an eye on your temperature," he added, covering her with a lightweight blanket.

"Thank you."

Adelaide almost sighed in ecstasy from the extra bit of warmth that enveloped her. "You seem to know your way around the medical field. Are you some sort of doctor or something?"

"No, lass. I was a medic for the British Army many years ago."

"Is your real name, Chibs? Or is that a nickname?"

"It's a nickname of sorts," he replied. "I received a Glasgow smile years ago—the scars on my face—and the Scottish slang for the weapon used to do it, is a chib."

"My God," Adelaide cried. "I'm sorry. I can't believe people can be so evil."

"I would think you had a pretty good idea of how evil a person can be," Chibs told her.

She stared at him a moment, not sure how to respond.

"I know you were attacked," Chibs confessed in a gentle tone. "I've seen the bruises and cuts on your body. I've heard you crying out in your sleep, begging 'Liam' to not hurt you. "

Adelaide's breath caught in her chest. How could I have been so careless, she thought. He could easily find out about Liam and lead him here—even unintentionally. I have to play dumb, for now.

"I…I-I," she stammered, "I don't know any Liam. I must've just been having a nightmare."

"Okay, obviously, we should have this conversation at another time," Chibs said, immediately detecting her lie. "I understand. You're scared and ya find it hard to trust someone ya just met. But I promise, Adelaide, whoever he is… He will not get anywhere near ya. But you're gonna have to help us. We need to know more about him in order to keep him away from ya."

A tear fell down Adelaide's cheek and her lip trembled. "I-I…can't. You don't understand. He…h-he…"

Chibs leaned toward her and placed a finger over her full lips, "Shhh. You don't have to do this right now," he whispered. "Just rest. We'll talk this out later, yeah?"

She nodded shakily, and he gave her a comforting smile. Reaching up a little further, he gently swiped at the tear on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You're gonna be okay. We won't let anyone hurt ya."

He turned to move away from her to return to his chair next to the bed, but Adelaide took his hand and gently tugged him back down to the bed's surface. "What is your real name," she asked. "Would you mind telling me?"

He gazed into her eyes a moment before reaching up and tucking a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, "It's Filip."

"Would you mind if I called you Filip," she asked softly. "I mean… I just… I think calling you by your nickname feels almost like I'm condoning what was done to you."

He smiled slightly and nodded, "You can call me whichever you want, lass. Either one is fine with me."

Adelaide returned his smile, "Thank you…Filip. For everything. I'd probably be dead if not for you." Reflexively, she reached up and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, bestowing him with a hug.

He was taken aback, yet Chibs couldn't help but take pleasure in the feel of the woman's arms around him. He returned her embrace and stroked his hand over her hair. "Get some sleep," he whispered near her ear. "I'll stay in one of the other dorms so I'll be nearby if you need anything."

He finally pulled away, and caught the dazed expression on Adelaide's face. He knew then something was going to happen between them. She was as affected by his presence as he was by hers. In truth, he wanted her. She was beautiful, seemed kind and warm-hearted. He'd never felt as affected by a woman as he did with Adelaide. Not even with Fiona, or Allie. He shook his head of the thoughts and stood from the bed. "Goodnight, lass."

"Goodnight, Filip."

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 🙂

Tagging:

@mrsfilipchibstelford @ravennaortiz

[majestativa]

Old Reaper: Bathe thy limbs in balsam, daughter. For the day draws near where thou shalt be crowned queen among daughters. Mary: With thorns, father.

— Ernst Toller, Seven Plays by Ernst Toller, ‘The Machine-Wreckers’, transl by Ashley Dukes, (1935)

[mandowifey]

Character Masterlist.

Note: This list will be updated regularly when I get a new blorbo.

● ● ●

Ethan Hawke:

James Sandin (The Purge)

Russel Millings (Adopt a Highway)

Arthur Harrow (Moon Knight)

Edward Dalton (Daybreakers)

Ellison Oswalt (Sinister)

Albert Shaw/The Grabber (The Black Phone)

Ray Harris (Raymond and Ray)

Ernst Toller (First Reformed)

Lars Nystrom (Stockholm)

● ● ●

The Boys Universe:

Homelander

William/Billy Butcher

Ben/Soldier Boy

● ● ●

Stephen Lang:

Norman Nordstrom/Blindman (Don't Breathe)

Commander Nathaniel Taylor (Tera Nova)

Colonel Miles Quaritch- Human & Na'vi (Avatar)

John Korver (Gridlocked)

● ● ●

Hamish Linklater:

Father Paul Hill/John Pruitt (Midnight Mass)

John Tyler (Tell Me Your Secrets)

● ● ●

Oscar Isaac:

Santiago "Pope" Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Marc/Steven/Jake (Moon Knight)

Kane Double (Annihilation 2018)

● ● ●

Pedro Pascal:

Din Djarin/Mando (The Mandalorian)

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales (Triple Frontier)

Deiter Bravo (The Bubble)

Javi G (Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Max Phillips (Blood Sucking Bastards)

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 88)

● ● ●

John Krasinski:

Lee Abbott (A Quiet Place)

● ● ●

Patrick Wilson:

Ed Warren (The Conjuring)

Orm Marius (Aquaman)

Josh Lambert (Insidious)

Daniel Dreiberg/Nite Owl (Watchmen)

● ● ●

Jensen Ackles:

Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

Soldier Boy (The Boys)

● ● ●

Tony Dalton:

Lalo Salamanca (Better Call Saul)

Jack Duquesne (Hawkeye)

● ● ●

Michael Fassbender:

Erik Lehnsherr (X-Men)

David / Walter (Alien Covenant/Prometheus)

● ● ●

Karl Urban:

Commander Vaako (Riddick)

Billy Butcher (The Boys)

● ● ●

Jon Bernthal:

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

Shane Walsh (The Walking Dead)

● ● ●

Jason Bateman:

Marty Byrd (Ozark)

Michael Bluth (Arrested Development)

● ● ●

Patrick Fabian

Howard Hamlin (Better Call Saul)

Cotton Marcus (The Last Exorcism)

● ● ●

Spider-Verse

Peter B Parker

Miguel O'Hara

Venom

● ● ●

Jake Gyllenhaal

Detective Loki (Prisoners)

Quentin Beck/Mysterio (Spiderman: FFH)

Danny Sharp (Ambulance)

● ● ●

Overwatch

Cassidy

Soldier 76/Jack

Reaper/Gabriel

Hanzo Shimada

Genji Shimada

● ● ●

Critical Role (S1)

Grog

Vax

● ● ●

Baldur's Gate 3

Astarion

Enver Gortash

Gale Dekarios

Halsin

Zevlor

Cazador Szarr

● ● ●

Other Chars (Unsorted)

Negan Smith (Walking Dead)

Rick Grimes (Walking Dead)

Daryl Dixon (Walking Dead)

Jamie Lannister (Game of Thrones)

Captain Rex (Star Wars)

Boba Fett (Star Wars)

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill (BCS/BB)

Barry Berkman (Barry HBO)

James "Logan" Howlett (Wolverine, Xmen)

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

[fromtheboundlesssea]

Celia is so protective of her mom and actively goes against everything Daemon would want to her to do.

WB Celia 🤝🏽 NKAA Cersei

WB Celia: My father has ignored me and my siblings for years and has treated my mother worse than a mistress, desiring another woman and not being secretive about it...and he demands respect *chuckles* I tollerate him as long as my mother does *she scoffs"

NKAA Cersei: At least he didn't take the other woman as his mistress..*she hisses* my father, the mighty Tywin Lannister took her cousin as his personal whore, allowed her to reside at Casterly Rock..humilating my mother in the process.She wants me to have a relationship with my father but I refuse, my brother said he will be lord of Casterly Rock,father's whore will leave as well

WB Celia: I can do nothing about his feelings..she's the crown princess...

NKAA Cersei: Well at least I can ruin her reputation *she smiles wickedly* and father gets furious but I don't cower under his gaze and I tell him: "are there any lies?"

WB Celia: I married a man that father didn't approve because it would go against his niece, mother stood up for me and I did stand up for her, he threatened me "you are no longer my daughter" and I said back: "You were never and had never been my father..I will renounce my Targaryen name and be called Lady Celia Hightower"

NKAA Cersei: I wasn't lucky with marriage..I married my uncle, an insane man, the only good things were my daughers and my husband's cousin....

NKAA marries her cousin! Not her uncle! She does not marry Aerys!

[mariana-oconnor]

The Copper Beeches pt 3

I hope you are anxious to hear the conclusion of the case of ‘The Copper Beeches’.

Yes. Yes I am. Because while it's now pretty certain that the Rucastles are not part of a sex-trafficking ring, they're still really fucking creepy and now I also have to worry about the poor dog who is also being abused.

Family of serial killers, I swear.

"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?" "Yes, the wine-cellar."

...

😈😈😈😈

"You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think you a quite exceptional woman."

Leeeeeeettle bit condescending there, Holmes. Although I feel like I am just more sensitive to that because modern perspective and experience. However, I do think think this section needs noting, if only because of all the people who are determined that Irene Adler is the only woman Holmes ever saw worthy of a compliment. Nothing against Irene, she's great, but Violet Hunter deserves better. She's been doing all the legwork herself this case, and she's made a pretty decent detective.

"If you could send her into the cellar on some errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely."

...

heh

heheheh

...

"Of course there is only one feasible explanation."

I still want to know what the other six possibilities were, Holmes. I want to know.

"Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height, figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also."

Miss Alice Rucastle is having the worst year. First she's sick so badly she has to cut her hair off. Then her father imprisons her in her own home. And on top of all of that her stepbrother is a serial killer in training. Worst. Year. Ever.

"The most serious point in the case is the disposition of the child."

Really? That's the most serious point? Like, I agree it's not good. He's clearly showing signs of anti-social behaviour, aggression, and a worrying taste of having the power of life and death over other living beings, but I'm not sure I'd say that was the most urgent thing right now. I think getting Alice out is the most important thing. You can get him some serious therapy later.

"This child's disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty's sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power."

Ah, okay, you're saying that it's serious because it indicates the level of danger involved. Sure, yeah, okay.

Can't disagree on this point. It's certainly not a good sign.

ALSO, one other thing that has been bugging me since part 2. Does the kid know where his half-sister is? Is he aware she's locked up? He can't be, right? Because there's no way he wouldn't have let something slip. But at the same time, he's just unaware of a whole ass person being imprisoned in his home? It's weird. He's weird.

Dear Little Edward the murderer in training is either oblivious or very good at keeping creepy secrets.

I'm not sure about the stepmother. On the one hand, the crying and the quiet indicate that she's also being abused. But on the other hand she was the one to catch Violet with the mirror and then use it to further the scheme. Although she didn't say 'she has a mirror', which would have made Mr Rucastle angry. That whole bit is weird. Was she trying to stop Violet from getting into more trouble, was she trying to save their scheme? I don't know. But then, if she's living with Rucastle and her darling son all day every day, she's probably been ground down pretty far.

A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is Mrs Toller in the cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen rug."

Suddenly there came a clanging As of someone wildly banging, banging at the cellar door.

And Mr Toller didn't even make it to bed? He's just passed out on the kitchen floor? He's lucky there's a rug in there and it's not just flagstones.

Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No sound came from within, and at the silence Holmes's face clouded over.

Not a particularly good sign...

"Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in." It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty.

Breaking down doors! Love a bit of action with my mystery.

"Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it." "But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter; "the ladder was not there when the Rucastles went away." "He has come back and done it."

But why would he climb up a ladder when he could just open the door?

I mean we know of the existence of at least one other person who would want Alice Rucastle out of that house and who wouldn't have a key to her room.

I'm just saying, Holmes.

"He's gone for the dog!" cried Miss Hunter. "I have my revolver," said I.

Oh no... poor doggo.

Please don't kill the dog, Watson. Please.

We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door. "My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late!"

Two days?! Two fucking days? Seriously.

But it kind of sounds like the doggo is getting revenge. Good boy. Good boy! You eat the bad man.

There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck.

Holy fuck this action escalated quickly. That is graphic and also... poor dog. I mean... I doubt it could have been rehabilitated at this point, but still. Poor thing never had a chance.

I do not remember this story being this brutal. Holy shit that guy's throat was ripped out.

Can't say I'm sorry. Glad the dog got its revenge before it died.

"Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know what you were planning, for I would have told you that your pains were wasted."

I mean, you didn't exactly give her reason to trust you? Why on earth would she? This is the most ridiculous 'you should have talked to me' ever.

"If there's police-court business over this, you'll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's friend too."

I mean, were you? Were you? Alice's friend, sure. But were you Violet's friend in all this?

"He knew he was safe with her; but when there was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use her money."

It's Mary Sutherland all over again, just with more violence. Hey, Holmes. Holmes! You remember how you sent Mary Sutherland back into that life and didn't warn her about it? Huh? You remember that? Maybe thinking that wasn't such a good idea now? Huh? Are you?

I've had it with these men and their refusal to let their daughters have their own goddamn money.

"When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until she got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death's door."

I know this is like a common Victorian cause of illness and all that, but I'd be real suspicious about that brain fever, because it feels like poison is a real possibility rn.

"...that didn't make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be."

Good for him. Basic minimum achieved. I mean, also he's been trying to get her out of this house, so he's also gone above and beyond. I'm glad he and Alice got away in the end.

"But Mr Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should be, blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your interests were the same as his." "Mr Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentleman," said Mrs Toller serenely.

Oh, she did it for the money. Not such a good samaritan. But then if she were, she would have just smuggled the girl out.

Mr Rucastle survived, but was always a broken man, kept alive solely through the care of his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of Rucastle's past life that he finds it difficult to part from them.

I will admit I am sad the guy survived that. I'm not sure how he survived it. He had a mastiff's teeth 'buried in his throat'. He's insanely lucky his carotid wasn't torn open. But I suspect he doesn't do a lot of laughing anymore. So sad.

You couldn't have waited a little longer before shooting the poor dog, Watson? Let it get its revenge?

Also, that household sounds utterly terrible to live in still. Just a lot of horrible people being horrible to each other because they literally can't get away. And what about the child? What about dear little Edward? Is he still in there with them? I can't imagine that this made him less of a serial killer.

And the man doesn't get arrested for imprisoning his daughter?

Justice has not been served this day.

And that kid is going to grow up and kill a lot of people. I'm just saying. This isn't so much an ending as a 'to be continued'.

As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of one of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success.

Good for her.

Also, Watson, leave Holmes alone. He doesn't need a wife. He's fine. It is amusing to see that commentary, though. Like... there were 0 vibes of Holmes being into her. He complimented her a couple of times and was concerned for her safety. But he kept comparing her to a sister and there was no hint of romance in the whole thing. Watson is a bit delusional sometimes.

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

For your ask game: Aranea can easily beat Mephisto in a drinking contest 😂 -Crowie

CROWIE, MY FRIEND.

FML YOUR BRAIN.

YOUR BRAIN.

DON'T GIVE THEM IDEAS, OF THEY *WILL* HAVE A DRINKING CONTEST.

and omg yes, even if neither of them will admit it, ARANEA TOLLERATES THE ALCOHOL MUCH BETTER THAN MEPHISTO.

That sweet sweet victory going to cost ONE HELL OF A HANGOVER to Mephisto, while Aranea is going to be fresh as a rose the day afterwards (but that's ok, it's just going to be an excuse for her to remain in bed with Mephisto and snuggle and kiss the pout away from his face, damn ego and all of that! 😂).

Raphael would probably pass and visit and gloat that his father cannot withstand alcohol (to which Aranea will produce evidence that shows how Raphael has inherited Mephisto's low tollerance to alcohol, so shut the hell up, Squirt lololol).

THANK YOU FOR THIS, IT MADE ME CHUCKLE.

[obigem]

Leanne was in no position to reply to Cordie's accusations as she was embroiled in her own heated discussion with Alphie.

"You shouldn't have intimated the danger Cameron was in to Ms. Cordelia. She's young and not emotionally mature enough to cope with the mortal possibilities"

"C01 are you insinuating that my programming is not sophisticated enough to understand the delicacies of the immature human mind? Need I remind you that I am more advanced and several enhancements ahead of you in complex design?"

"Not at all, Leanne 5000. But the child—"

"I've developed a unique understanding of her, and my programmed sensitivities are committed to protecting her."

"Her father's bafoonery is hard to tollerate, but I suppose I can afford a bit more sensitivity toward the child's feelings. So long as she controls her sharp tongue."

"My tongue is not sharp!" Cordie shot Leanne another glare.

While the Fletchers and Plotts were trying to make peace, Valerian saw fit to check in with his finace.

"Val, I'm hearing you made use of the lazer table. I thought that was our special place."

"Don't make light, Chad. Certain precautions needed to be put in place to keep our family safe. I showed him an assortment of the sample pictures all for him to not be the artist we thought he was."

"Val, he fooled you into showing him my nudes?"

"Fool? Absolutely not."

"I knew the entire time he was a fraud."

"Then why did you show him my nudes."

"I figured if I was going to kill him, he deserved to see something beautiful before his end."

"Val, you charmer, if I didn't know better I'd say you've gotten softer."

"I'm not above strapping you back to the lazer table." Val rose an eyebrow.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chad's retort was velvety smooth.

"Umm, are we still talking about the lazer, or are you two flirting?" Cam felt awkward inbetween their banter.

"Oh, right, our guests." Cam's aside brought his existence back to Val's memory. "Relax already, Mr. Fletcher. Leanne will show you and your child to your room for the night. In the meantime, take a bath, take off that ridiculous hat, and prepare for tomorrow."

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson: The Copper Beeches

Part 3: The Fun Stuff

"Do you think you could perform one more feat?" There's starting to be a pattern of Holmes' plans on getting women out of danger, and it's "have them pretend nothing is wrong as a distraction while I break and enter"

Holmes' points about the child are both salient and sort of not. It's equally possible that the child has a cruel and self-important personality like his father, and that he's been spoiled into it. Because he's six.

Also I love when Holmes is initially wrong. He assumed that Rucastle hustled Alice away based entirely on the fact that she was gone, but Rucastle had no reason to use a rope ladder to go out a skylight: this is clearly the work of Alice's beau.

This dog and the Hound of the Baskervilles have some parallels. Both in regards to being kept by an abusive man and their eventual death by Watson's hand.

Mrs. Toller engineering Alice's escape despite her sour disposition and unfriendliness to Violet is a good twist.

[krenenbaker]

Profile: Edward Toller

A jovial presence in Heartlabyul, Edward is a responsible student who firmly believes in upholding the rules, but is not against poking fun at authority figures or anyone else he chooses to tease.  He can often be heard singing and whistling around the grounds of the dorm and school.

Basic Information

Dorm: Heartslabyul Grade/Class: Junior (Class A, Seat 27) Birthday: September 4 (Virgo) Age: 18 Height: 188cm Dominant hand: Right Homeland: Queendom of Roses Club: Basketball club Best subject: Magic Analysis Hobbies: Singing Pet peeves: Troublemakers Favourite food: Blackberry pie Least favourite food: Spiced beef stew Talent: Archery

Other Facts

Twisted from: The Sheriff of Nottingham (Robin Hood) MBTI: ENTJ He is in the same class as Leona and Rook Lives with his mother, father, grandmother, aunt, and younger cousins (who are triplets) He is a grey wolf beastman. Edward's family is one of the only grey wolf beastperson families currently living in the Queendom of Roses Comes from a family of accountants stretching back multiple generations. He has plans to intern at an accounting firm in the Sunshine Lands during fourth year Edward was pressured into joining the basketball club by his friends Archer and Gilo because of his height, but would have liked to join the pop music club He is called "Toadfish" by Floyd (I'm not sure of any Japanese translation - if anyone can help with it I would be very appreciative!), And is called "Monsieur Chanson" (Mr. Song) by Rook

Picrews used: Left image, Right image

@dove-da-birb - thanks for your help! :)