#stronghart tw

[bisexualize]

>:)

[mariam246810]

The following 4 comic pages are commissions for @/ fluffguff25 (twitter) of their bodyguard AU where genshin becomes stronghart's bodyguard.

You can read the fic from this link :

Linktree / commissions

[infamouslydorky]

30 min sketch

"You reap what you sow"

[lillybean730]

"To my extortioner, Mael Stronghart…may you feel the jaws of the beast at your throat every time you swallow."

wanted to draw something about this line the moment i read it and i finally finished it

[dgsdescribed]

[ID from alt: Digital illustration of Balmung from The Great Ace Attorney, pulling at his leash to snarl at the silhouette of Mael Stronghart. Stronghart smiles ominously, seemingly unbothered. The entire drawing is done in flat shades of magenta and dark blue. End ID]

jumping at shadows

[bronanlynch]

@duckswithwings: *grabby hands at all of it* but like in a non pressuring way, lmao

oh well since u asked lol. happy wip friday

they are flirtinggg

“Of course,” said Sylvain. “Although, wait, hang on a minute, how do you know that Lorenz and Hilda are the only Leicester generals who like rose petal tea? Do you memorize everyone’s drink preferences or something?” “What, don’t you?” Yuri said. No wonder Sylvain had always had so much trouble getting a second date. Although Yuri suspected Sylvain remembered what sort of drinks those girls liked and bought them the wrong thing on purpose in order to get dumped. “This feels like a test,” said Sylvain. “Is this your subtle way of telling me that I have to order our next round?” “Depends,” Yuri said. “What would you order for me?”

if no one else including canon will give me anything abt shaddiq & his besties I'll do it myself

Sabina had never spoken to him directly before and she doubted he would even recognize her, but she recognized him. He sat two rows ahead of her in geometry and was the only person with a higher score than her in robotics, and he had a bright smile and a quick tongue and an answer to everything, even if it wasn’t always the answer the teachers were looking for. And what he was doing right now was almost certainly against the rules.

everything in this fic is a metaphor probably

All swans in Britain were apparently property of the Queen—or so one of Susato-san’s guidebooks had claimed—but he didn’t trust them. Whenever he walked through the park on his roundabout way home from delivering yet another essay to Lord Stronghart, he saw another swan terrorizing ducks and tourists alike, bullying them out of scraps of bread with the threat of its powerful beak. Not to mention that he couldn’t look at one without recalling Jezaille Brett’s horribly tacky hat.

unfortunately, tw*tter, (the actual punchline is that this happens like. immediately before all of the season 1 finale stuff kicks off so the reaction to this gets lost in the chaos of All Of That)

not beating the furry allegations @/[PLACEHOLDER] imagine getting banned from herotv forums for saying what barnaby did to wild tiger not beating the furry allegations @/[PLACEHOLDER] @/[PLACEHOLDER] he fucked that old man Wild Tiger Official @Wild_Tiger_Hero @/[PLACEHOLDER] I’m not old I’m only thirty-five. This tweet has been deleted.

BARNABY X TIGER REAL @/[PLACEHOLDER] ok but he didn’t deny it?????????

[rockturbot]

🎵 and Stronghart he looks great in your style and I crave sustenance

Send me a character + 🎵 and I‘ll draw them, using the first song that comes up on shuffle as a prompt

Here you go!

Watch It by Klaus Doldinger.

[kabuwu]

Kazuma slaying Stronghart

(Based on the painting 'Judith Slaying Holofernes')

[I.D.: a digital painting of Kazuma Asougi, Ryunosuke Naruhodou, Barok Van Zieks, and Mael Stronghart from the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles. The painting is like that of the painting Judith slaying Holofernes, with the exception that there are 4 people instead of 3. End I.D.]

[addicted-to-12th-intro]

so uhhhhhhh inspiration struck

[isthemedia]

IT’S DONE!! The Stronghart/Drebber Valentine’s Day fic. (Hey it counts I haven’t gone to bed yet) 

Alright so this roughly follows kasviel’s fics of: Odd Couplings and A Home Abroad for Christmas. 

NSFW UNDER CUT

Warnings: 

Dom/Sub context

Spanking

Orgasm Denial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enoch sighed, ready to just turn back and forget this entire…thing… It was degrading, more so than love was already. But there was a limit. 

HE had a limit. 

Brushing his hair out of his face he looked over his reflection again. He scowled and began pacing, crossing his arms over his chest, hugging himself. This was such a dumb idea. Why did he even let that woman talk him into this? 

~~

Her name was Lola. The young woman who lives with Frau Forst. The young woman who was attentive to lady Freya, as lady Freya was to her. 

Despite her strong will, she had made it clear that she too had a slightly tarnished view of Berlin's other citizens. At least, at first glance. She found more comfort within the multitude of books that filled Lady Freya's home. 

And with the daunting numbers and equations of mathematics. Much like Freya, the young Lola also seemed drawn to the lifestyles not considered suitable for traditional feminine tastes. How she longed to work with the symphony of numbers and such. Freya had no qualms, and encouraged Lola's ambitions. 

It was through those ambitions that garnered the...friendship didn't seem to be a fitting term...perhaps the tolerance of Enoch Drebber. 

Freya made good on her word, in attempting to befriend the wayward engineer. Inviting the two men over for a more intimate dinner, and not a social affair. She had wanted to introduce Lola to her old friend. She knew Mael long enough that he would eventually insist on meeting her. 

Despite her outward appearance, Lola was incredibly uncertain. Uncertain of many things. How she would appear in the eyes of Mael Stronghart. How her life before Freya's loving care, and gentle heart took her in. The relationship she and Freya formed through the many long nights, alone with the paperwork from Freya's own duties as a teaching assistant. 

However, any negative judgment ebbed, and so early on in the night. When Lola attempted to converse with the aloof engineer. There was something eerie about the other man. Tall and gaunt. Automaton-esque gestures, with an affection that would creep into his voice whenever his distaste would arise. 

It was a simple, albeit odd question. What were Enoch's thoughts on the Principle of Superposition? Lola almost asked to be forgiven for asking such an odd and uncalled for question-however, Enoch answered without hesitation. He almost sounded...excited to answer, his gestures gaining more of a flair as he explained. Lola chimed in whenever he mentioned something that caused something to spark within her dark honey colored eyes. 

From there Enoch found a comfortable familiarity with Lola. There were times they ran into one another at the university, and would casually converse with one another. And it wasn’t always relegated to mathematics or science. 

~~

Enoch felt his face flush before scowling. Why would she EVER consider him as somebody who would ever even give the barest acknowledgment to this holiday?! And yet here he was…dressed in this.

No, no, he was getting out of this. He refused to degrade himself this low! Mael’s training…his punishments-those he could handle. Hell, he…he even began to enjoy them to an extent, mainly because he knew what would usually follow. 

But this? This he refused! He would need to hide these things and dispose of them later. He couldn’t let Mael see--

So lost in his inner rant, Enoch didn’t even hear the heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. He didn’t hear the slight jingling of the door handle. And he most certainly didn’t hear the creak of the hinges as the door to the bedroom opened. 

--

He couldn't help but stare. Enoch’s face went completely white before flushing bright red. Stronghart almost wanted to laugh at the sudden shriek from Enoch. Jumbled insults and begging him to “leave”, or “get out of the room”, and “why are you even home”. 

Well, this certainly was a scene he could never envision witnessing. Knowing how Enoch felt about Christmas, he assumed the man had the same view on all other holidays. Considering them galling and a waste of time. A degrading way to socialize. 

Perhaps he was wrong. Why else would Enoch wear such an elaborately detailed corset? And in such an appealing color of red too. 

A frustrated whine left Enoch as he covered his bright red face with both hands. He hoped the hypothesis of spontaneous combustion was true, and that he would fall victim to it now as a way to avoid talking about this. 

Lost in his looping thoughts of self-deprecation, he jumped as he felt…something trail along the front of the corset. Those fingers trailed along the length of the corset, feeling the boning under the sleek fabric, the slightly raised details of the embroidery. It hugged Enoch’s body in a way that it was downright sinful. He could see that Enoch’s body was still shaking. Whether from anger or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. A small smirk tugged at his lips and he turned from Enoch and made his way to the lavious armchair that sat in their bedroom. 

He took off his gloves,vest and coat, draping them over the back of the chair.  Stepping out of his shoes before seating himself. With a snap of his fingers, Enoch flushed deeper but still crossed the room. “No no, stay standing,” Stronghart said. “Turn around.”

“Tu-turn--what?” 

“I want to get a good look at you,” Stronghart’s voice dipped deeper, it sent a shiver through Enoch’s body. With his face still burning bright red, Enoch followed the demand.  

The corset indeed fit Enoch like a second skin. The bold, rich red did compliment his pale complexion. The cinched up ties in the back were screaming to be undone…or maybe pulled tighter. Stronghart’s eyes continued down. How bold, to not wear any sort of drawers. Though, as he let his eyes trail down more, he supposed there was a reason for such a decision. 

The red silk that wrapped around his legs was almost a perfect match to the red of the corset. Yes, Enoch was indeed thin, but nowhere near to how waiflike he was in prison. The red silk emphasized the strong, whipcord muscles of his long legs. The mass of them stretching the sheer fabric, letting his pale skin peek through. 

However, the one thing that drew Stronghart’s attention as his eyes trailed back up, was the long, silk tie that was wrapped round Enoch’s neck. Unable to resist the temptation, he grabbed the ends of the dangling fabric, and gave a firm tug. Enoch yelped and stumbled forward, almost tumbling onto Stronghart’s lap. 

The silken tie was undone from around Enoch's neck. He was grateful for that, he tied it too tight, to the point of feeling ever swallow. However, it seemed that Mael had other plans for the fabric. He seized Enoch by one wrist and pulled the man even closer, once again Enoch almost fell onto Stonghart’s lap. Looking up, Enoch shuddered, he could see how blown out Stonghart's pupil's were. 

Before a word could even leave his mouth, Drebber found Stronghart already weaving the satin material around his wrists, binding them together. Enoch’s brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at his now bound wrists. 

He’d deny the embarrassing yelp he made when he was yanked down, and forcefully arranged to lay across Stronghart’s lap. Enoch squirmed as he tried to settle properly--

Then a sharp sound followed by the all too familiar burn had Drebber tugging at his restraints and all his squirming came to an abrupt halt. The instinctual need to grab onto something had him forget that he was just bound together. Another slap and Enoch’s whole body jolted. His skin prickled at the pain and the subtle heat building from each strike. 

His mind drifted back, remembering and connecting this current situation to the whipping he received when they had first met. His hands were also bound together then too. But there was something different this time, there was a heat that was skewing with the memory. Turning it more erotic than traumatic and painful. Enoch braced himself for another swat. His mind going hazy. 

Why wasn’t this…as painful as before? Was Mael being softer? No, that couldn’t be it. Something was different though. 

Something...with him?

Another strike, and instead of a cry or a sob...the sound that left Enoch was a choked moan. Enoch squirmed a bit-utterly confused by the reaction. Another slap, and another moan tore from his throat. 

"Stay still," Stronghart's voice demanded. "Or is it that you're beginning to like being punished?" 

A small, embarrassed whimper escaped Enoch. He shifted slightly, and flushed hotly as he felt an all too familiar hardness nudge against his hip. The ache from each hit only emphasized the building arousal. Slowly building more and more with each swat. 

He couldn't understand why. It hurt. It stung. Tears still formed and flowed; but he couldn't rationalize why he felt like he was eagerly waiting for the next blow. Mael probably sensed this, Enoch was certain he did. It's why he decided to follow through his sadistic ways, and delay the next hit. Making Enoch beg for it.

 Enoch began to squirm again. He wanted it. Wanted to feel that sting that was feeding into this new pleasure that was filling him. Yet, Stronghart's next hit did not come. His heart was pounding in his ears.  A whimpered "please" leaked from Drebber. He didn't even register that he said anything before he felt the palm of Mael's hand strike him, and this time it was a scream that was wretched from his throat. Enoch's body was shaking by the time Mael considered it was long enough. Stronghart gave a small, playful pat to the now crimson cheeks. "Up Enoch," he instructed. "Get on the bed."

Enoch forced his suddenly uncooperative legs to move. It was a bit of a difficult task to push himself up with his wrists still bound together. He could feel his legs shake under his frame as he finally stood up. His eyes were still wet from the tears, and he did his best to wipe them away.

"Bed," Stronghart stated again and snapped his fingers. 

Enoch nodded and made his way over to the bed. Doing his best to keep his balance with his bound hands, he climbed onto the bed.He looked over his shoulder to see Stronghart unbutton his shirt. 

"Lay down," Stronghart told Enoch, pulling another sound from the engineer. Enoch's body was trembling as he followed Mael's command. Spreading his knees, and hunching over his bound arms. "Good," Stonghart praised as he ran a hand down Enoch's freshly spanked arse. He gave Enoch's thigh a quick slap, coloring blooming in that spot, and drawing out another moan from the man. 

Enoch tried to calm his breathing. He closed his eyes and listened. His ears strained to hear how Mael moved about. How the older man moved around the bed. The sound of something-a jar-being opened. He managed to pick up a slick sound that sent a shudder through his body. "Please...please," Enoch couldn't stop the needy pleas that fell from his lips. He couldn't even remember the last time he ever yearned this much. 

There was a hard, quick slap to his arse, that only drew out another pleading whine. "I will continue on my own time," Stronghart stated firmly. "You will behave, and wait." 

"Y-yes Lord Stronghart." 

He loathed to admit it, but the demand was just as much for him, as it was for Enoch. Stronghart couldn't remember when a need burned as bright as this. Enoch Drebber truly was a unique case for him.

Slick fingers pressed in, and Enoch did his best to hold back any sound his body wanted to make. Everything felt so much more. So sharp and...bright? He couldn't quite put it into words. "Ah-ahn!" His knees splayed further apart, letting Stronghart's fingers reach deeper. 

Surely this was enough, at least Stronghart hoped that it was enough. His own patience was waning since he first laid eyes on Enoch dressed in such a provocative way. 

As he pressed in, he couldn't help but chuckle at the breathless, "yesyespleaseohgodplease" from Enoch.  

"Red, is surprisingly...a suiting color on you," Stronghart's own voice was going lower. Slightly ragged, but his pride and need for dominance refused to have him panting. 

Enoch gave a rusty laugh. His voice sounded utterly ruined. "I thought...you'd prefer black and blue." 

Stronghart chuckled at the remark. So there was still some of that wit present. Well, he would need to take care of that. Leaning over Enoch's form, he brushed the long white hair over a shoulder before planting a kiss. There was a soft sigh that left Drebber, before he creid out as Mael roughly snapped his hips forward. Burying himself nearly to the hilt. Another rush of babbled "pleasepleasemore" poured from Enoch. 

Another kiss, and then a third, trailing along Enoch's shoulder. "Since you've asked so nicely," really how could he deny such a request? Rolling his hips, deeper and deeper each time. Grateful for the sturdiness of the four post bed, and how it refused to budge...though it did mean the headboard would not make that satisfying sound of being slammed against the wall with every thrust. 

Ah well, Enoch's own sounds greatly made up for it. 

"W-wait wait!" Enoch begged, his voice getting more and more raw.

Mael slowed himself, not really stopping the movements of his hips. "Backing out now?" Enoch thrashed his head side to side. He did look so good like that. Stronghart was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the man unraveling beneath him, until a sharp kick was given to his right knee. "Enoch--"

"I-I'm close," Enoch's body shuddered. 

"So soon?" The anger still ebbed from the small assault, and he rolled his hips, pressing in as deep as he could. 

Drebber’s head flung back with a hoarse cry. "The ring!" He managed to get out. 

"Hm?" 

Enoch grit his teeth, and tried to calm himself. It was still too soon-they only just started. "I-I want this to last...ah..."he squirmed slightly, his head nodding towards the end table, to an unassuming silver band that sat atop it. 

If Mael recalled, this was more of a torture device. He gave an unsure glance back down to Enoch, the man must be mad if he was willing to put this device on. “Are you--”

“Please, Mael,” Enoch whimpered. 

Perhaps now wasn’t the time to question the other. He reached over and grabbed the offending ring. Turning it over in his hand, he was surprised to see that it lacked the serrated teeth that usually lined the ring. Instead the ring was lined with a thick band of rubber.

Wait…did Drebber actually--

Another high, begging whine from Enoch interrupted his thoughts. Sighing heavily, Stronghart shifted back, pulling out of the man below. 

“N-no, wait..M-Mael? What are you--”

Enoch yelped as he was roughly flipped onto his back.  Mismatched blue and gray eyes stared up at Stronghart. His face was flush, and his long white hair was fanned out beneath him. If Stronghart was a more poetic man, he could have found reason in comparing the other man to that of an angel. Too bad he already knew that Enoch was much more a vicious viper then some blessed cherub. 

 A streak of sadism coursed through him, and he couldn't help but give a few hard pumps to Drebber, causing the man to cry out and beg for him to hurry. 

"Of course, of course," Stronghart chuckled. Enoch's erection was stiff, wet with pre, and flushed red. Red truly was a fitting color on him. 

The ring was snug, but it managed to slip down to the base. The pre helped in that. The rubber wasn't exceedingly firm, but it wasn't completely malleable either. Enoch was panting harshly. A flush covered his face, trailing down his neck, and dusted his upper chest. 

Stronghart let Enoch try and catch his breath for a few more moments. His mind trying to find ways to use this little device to his own advantage. 

He felt the corners of his lips tug into another smirk. Just how much could Enoch handle? Perhaps he could make him cry from sheer ecstasy. The training he put Enoch through was finally bearing its results, perhaps he could push it just a bit further this time. 

He leaned close and pressed his mouth incessantly against Enoch's as a way to distract him. The engineer was strung out on near overstimulation, he almost seemed confused on how to properly kiss back. No matter, Stronghart just needed to deter Enoch's attention long enough to retrieve the small pot of oil, and to coat his fingers once more. 

The sound Enoch made when he was breached again, was so much more than Stronghart could have expected. 

"Hah-Hah!" Enoch panted loudly as Mael's fingers pressed in deeper, rougher, almost in a jabbing motion. Foreplay was never something they truly engaged in outside of his...disciplinary punishments, so it felt all so new to Enoch. He tried to press his knees together, the overwhelming sensation almost too much-

"Ah ah ah," Stonghart clicked his tongue, and with his free hand gave a sharp slap to one of Enoch's thighs. The skin turned red almost instantly. "None of that."

He continued toying and stretching Enoch, until the man was begging-nearly hysterical. Fresh tears began to fall, as one of his legs kicked out. 

Stronghart shushed him. Kissed him gently, his free hand wiping away the tears. Brushing back the hair that fell in Enoch's face. "P-please...please Mael," Enoch begged. He didn't think it was possible, but he swore he felt his mind melting. 

"I think you've waited long enough," Stronghart chuckled and settled between Enoch's legs. He slid in with nearly no resistance this time. A high keening sound left Drebber. Mael took a hold of Enoch's hips. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against Enoch's. Enoch tried to kiss back, but his body was wound so tight, he couldn't get it to follow. 

It didn't take long for Stronghart to once again match the pace he had set before. 

"H-harder!" Drebber's voice rasped. 

"Harder?" 

Enoch’s wide, expressive mouth quirked up into a sultry smirk. "Yes...I want bruises. I want to see them,” he licked his lips. Chest heaving as he tried to continue. “To-to trace along them...knowing they're there…as I work on that bland engineering task you forced me into...nobody being the wiser," he panted as he writhed in Stronghart's hold. "I want them to hurt when I do."

Stronghart felt his grip tighten automatically. Whatever divine power there was, thank you for Enoch Drebber. His chest felt so full. It was such an unusual feeling. Not bad, but he certainly hasn't gotten quite used to it yet. He supposed it was due to this position. Normally he'd take Enoch from behind. He took most of his lovers that way. He didn't need to be loved, he just needed the control. The act itself. 

It was difficult to have it as such when face to face. But, it wasn't like that anymore, was it? Not with Enoch. Not with the man he gave the chance to have him end his sadistic streak. The man who had him wrapped around those twitching fingers. 

The man he wound up loving so deeply. 

Yes, it was indeed so very different with Enoch. 

Against everything he strived for, Stronghart let himself just fall into this unrepressed need that consumed him. Has always consumed him since starting this relationship with Enoch. It was animalistic...barbaric. He didn't know how hard he had bitten down until a screeching wail tore from Enoch's throat, and the tang of copper met his tongue. 

His hand reached down, and after a few sloppy attempts, that damnable ring was taken off. Enoch choked on whatever sound he tried to make...

And then everything went white. 

--

Enoch sighed as he tried to focus on the task at hand. It wasn't as if he didn't find this job appealing, it was just so boring to him. Given to his own devices, he could have this project completed in under a day. He couldn't help but to heave another heavy sigh. 

He let his mind wander slightly...a smirk tugging at his lips, as his fingers rested at his sides. Pressing ever so gently, he hissed at the tenderness there. 

Hmmm, perhaps Lola wasn't wrong in insisting he did something for Mael on Valentine's day after all. 

[corvikash]

Alright I'll elaborate just a bit more since it's been on my mind all day (tw for implied torture):

- Ryunosuke 'dies' on the SS Burya but never tells Kazuma beforehand about being a dragon

- Iris, van Zieks, and Gina are still dragons! Van Zieks is especially wary of Kazuma due to Karuma (made of metal that can burn dragons, also had been used to kill Klint)

- typical roleswap dilemmas

- Ryunosuke regains his memories after 2-3 and runs away from the courtroom, most likely due to contradictions about Kazuma's character between his memories and Stronghart's orders. He's unsure of how to process his revelation and he had direct orders from Stronghart to immediately report to him in the instance he regained his memories.

- Ryunosuke takes Kazuma's canon place as the assigned killer of Gregson, but backs out of it. Van Zieks is still accused of Gregson's murder and Ryunosuke acts as the prosecutor.

- Ryunosuke is especially vulnerable to Stronghart's manipulation because of arriving to Britain as an amnesiac Japanese dragon. There are only a few Japanese dragons left, and once Stronghart finds out Ryunosuke is a rare dragon he threatens to sell his fur and scales if he were to disobey. (The way Stronghart finds out is through intimidation. At some point Ryunosuke became afraid enough to shift into his dragon form as self defense, much to his and Stronghart's shock)

- Ryunosuke has purple 'stripes' in this AU, which aren't present in his normal dgs dragon au design. These are actually scars, although no one is aware until after the case is done (no one knows what Japanese dragons actually look like due to how rare they are, much less in Britain. Kazuma is, of course, furious when he finds out what the purple stripes actually are during post-canon)

- Ryunosuke urges Kazuma to take the case, almost like a plea for help.

- Kazuma and Susato don't find out that Ryunosuke is a dragon until the beginning of 2-4. Western dragons tend to be nobility and use their dragon forms to assert a powerful image. For law officials, they tend to drop into the courtroom at the beginning from an open ceiling. This is how Ryunosuke reveals his dragon form, by landing into the courtroom for everyone to gawk at, especially Kazuma. This is by Stronghart's orders.

- The case goes on as normal, although Ryunosuke is maybe not as helpful as Kazuma is in canon. He's rather distant, with a faraway and pleading look in his eyes although he would never admit it, even when Kazuma or Susato try to bring it up. Whenever he gives them useful information, though, he always does so secretively.

- During the last leg of the trial, Ryunosuke finally breaks away from Stronghart's grip and helps Kazuma reveal the truth. Stronghart is infuriated by this.

- After Stronghart's confession, he tries to take one more bite back. Stronghart has been a dragon this entire time and lunges at Kazuma in an attempt to kill him. He isn't quick enough because Ryunosuke is right there to protect Kazuma and Susato. Even after all he's been through because of Stronghart, Ryunosuke is still willing to stand up to him for Kazuma.

- The fight isn't pretty, as Ryunosuke only acted as a distraction for Kazuma and Susato to be able to get away. He's severely injured before van Zieks intervenes and pins down Stronghart until he's detained.

- Ryunosuke's recovery takes a long time, and during it he explains his past to Kazuma. He's always feared a closer connection with him and anyone he may come to consider family, but with Kazuma and 221b, he might just be able to overcome his fears :]

Guys guys guys guys hear me out.

DGS Dragon AU Prosecutor Ryunosuke

[infamouslydorky]

Honestly, Stronghart being so preoccupied with public perception of the legal system is kind of valid when you consider the nature of newspaper articles of the 1890s and how they had a habit of sensationalizing or outright fabricating facts to make for appealing to a wider audience and increasing sales. Shoot, Barok Van Zieks wasn't immune to it with being dubbed the Reaper of the Bailey for almost ten years. The myth went that it was the ghost of Barok's brother seeking vengeance for justice every time a guilty defendant got away. It's how you have myths of Jack the Ripper staying in the public consciousness to this day or how H.H. Holmes was known for having a "murder castle."

[infamouslydorky]

"The executioner's white robe was stained with the blood of those he slain in the name of justice"

Ink and watercolor

[infamouslydorky]

Thinking about the myth of "the reaper," Stronghart used Klint Van Zieks to do killings and continued to use Klint's name for the sake of killings even after his death; "the ghost of Klint would kill the guilty for vengeance on behalf of justice". Stronghart brought the man to ruin not only in life but also in death, convinced he saved the public perception of the Van Zieks family

Honestly, Stronghart being so preoccupied with public perception of the legal system is kind of valid when you consider the nature of newspaper articles of the 1890s and how they had a habit of sensationalizing or outright fabricating facts to make for appealing to a wider audience and increasing sales. Shoot, Barok Van Zieks wasn't immune to it with being dubbed the Reaper of the Bailey for almost ten years. The myth went that it was the ghost of Barok's brother seeking vengeance for justice every time a guilty defendant got away. It's how you have myths of Jack the Ripper staying in the public consciousness to this day or how H.H. Holmes was known for having a "murder castle."