#what a waste that scene is the best crying scenes in animated series i swear

[anishake]

So like... No one has giffed Alucard crying at the end of 2x08??? Bruh

[ethanesimp]

THE OAK TREE // TWO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of death and descriptions of it, mention of suicide (pls read with caution, ily <3).

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: Again, I apologize for the delay, life has been a lil bit crazy this past week. I also wanted to apologize for any possible typos because I’m working on a project but decided to take a break to finish this for you guys! I promise I’ll proofread this as soon as I get some time. Also, in the part where they’re texting, I recommend you check the texts on the Google Drive for context. Otherwise you might get a bit lost.

DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT TE AVAILABLE MATERIAL IN THE GOOGLE DRIVE WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON THE SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you):  @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @marriedwithmarktuan @its-afucking-mess @juststalking @goldenpeaxh​

LAST CHAPTER’S WINNING DECISION: They believe it is all real and go search for the body the finger might belong to. (The impact of this decision will be reflected next chapter).

Let the games begin. 

You had to read the last part once more, so consumed by the shock that barely any words had registered into your brain. Your hands were shaking as you held it closer to yourself. Maybe it was all part of the disbelief because you found yourself scanning the words over and over again until you had the first paragraph memorized. 

But then… then Ethan started laughing. 

Short, breathy laughs escaped past his lips, immediately followed by sharp inhales, as if he were desperate to get more air to reach his lungs. You brushed it off and went right back to reading the last few phrases that were on the very back, even said them under your breath to try and make them become real because everything seemed like nothing but a dream, no, a nightmare.

Then it slowly dawned on you after you finished reading the letter. All worry subsided and you had no doubt in your mind you would’ve started laughing too if you weren’t seeing red. Consumed by the sudden rage, you turned to Ethan and didn’t hesitate to tackle him into the ground.

In any normal instance, you wouldn’t have been able to do it, but you’d caught him off-guard, which was confirmed by the surprised yelp he let out as his back collided with the muddy floor and dry leaves crunched underneath his weight. You moved to straddle him the second you felt him shift beneath you, as if he wanted to get up. 

You looked at him for a split second. His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the red light. His distress was apparent. He was thrashing around to try and get you off him when you started hitting his chest over and over again. Your hits weren’t hard nor were they intended to cause any damage to him. In fact, he could have easily pushed you off him effortlessly if he wanted to, but Ethan didn’t even try. Instead, he let you continue hitting his chest.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You’re… a… fucking… psycho!” Each word was accompanied by another frustrated hit to his chest as tears slowly fell down your face and sobs rattled your body, “You were the only one who knew that. The only person in this goddamn school I ever—ever was stupid enough to tell it to. And you use it for one of your sick and twisted pranks? Fuck you. Fuck you!” 

Your head fell and rested on his chest as you kept on crying. However, your words seemed to pull him back to reality. Only after a few seconds of you speaking, Ethan had already rolled the two of you around until he was on top of you. 

You firmly held his stare as you tried to get him off you. For some strange reason, it sent shivers down your spine to see his eyes so full of fear. Ethan was always centered and glued firmly to the Earth. No matter the issue, he was always capable of keeping his cool, but now was far from being the case. His voice trembled as he tried to speak up, “Shut up Y/N! You’ve got no right to blame me for something that is clearly your doing. I have no fucking clue what your stupid letter said but mine said something that has me convinced it was you!”

His accusation was followed by him shoving his crumpled up letter into your face. You had to squint in order to see it better with only the aid of the red light. When you read the words placed at the very bottom, your eyes went wide and immediately looked for his in a desperate attempt to convince him it wasn’t you, but he had his head turned away. You firmly grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie so he’d look into your eyes, “I-I didn’t. Ethan I don’t like you one bit but I’d never. Not this.”

Ethan scoffed and shook his head. He got off you and turned around so his back was facing you, “You know what? I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t do. I’m going to wash this disgusting stuff off me and report this in the morning.”

“What the hell? Are you crazy? Ethan, we're in the middle of a crime scene. We cannot leave it like this. I mean, look at you! You’re covered in blood because, let me refresh your mind, you fell into a fucking puddle of blood and found a finger!” You flailed your arms around furiously at his stupidity and started followed him the moment he started walking away, “What if this is real?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you, “What is real? A threat that looks like it was written by a thirteen-year-old who just finished reading The Analyst? And the blood… it belongs to an animal for all I care,” He didn’t seem an ounce convinced by the way he took a second to come up with an excuse, and he couldn’t even look you in the eyes, “Besides, what do you want us to say, huh? Oh yeah, sorry. We’re out past curfew because of reasons we can’t tell you and we casually found a disembodied finger lying in a pool of blood. Ah! And I almost forgot the most important detail. We’re being threatened with things that are not only good enough to get us expelled but also get us thrown in jail. But everything is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, do whatever the hell you please.”

Ethan nodded nonchalantly and walked away from you. A long and deep sigh escaped your lips at his stubbornness. You wanted to scream out in frustration at how stupid he was being, but decided it was pointless to stay behind, just in case someone arrived and found you standing there, with your clothes filled with blood. 

——— ☆ • ♧ • • ♧ • ☆ ———

When you arrived back at the dorms, the first thing you did was take a hot shower as you tried to assimilate everything that had happened. Despite the water being so hot it almost burnt your skin, you still spent the whole time shivering and hugging your arms to your body. 

You had washed the blood off the hoodie in one of the sinks and still threw it in the washing machine afterwards. You didn’t know what was going on and part of you was convinced you didn’t want to know. Either way, you weren’t going to risk being roped into a crime investigation as a suspect.

Afterwards, you collapsed into bed. Your whole body was aching and, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone had exploded with notifications after you connected it, you would’ve fallen asleep. You lazily felt around the small bedside table for your phone and picked it up. Most notifications were just memes Will kept sending to the group chat you had. However, you’d also received a message from Ethan.

Upon reading the first few words, you already felt the urge to throw the phone out the window. He was being annoying, not like that was a new thing at all. You responded to the text nonetheless and left the phone back on the bedside table. You turned around in your bed to try and find a spot that was comfortable and cuddled deeper into the sheets. Then, just when you were about to close your eyes, the phone vibrated again. You groaned and picked it up once more. After reading those texts, you were unable to sleep all night.

——— 

You spent the great majority of the night crying and shivering despite being covered by layers and layers of warm blankets. Those few hours before your alarm sounded extended into what seemed like an eternity and you didn’t want to leave the room, afraid you’d find something like what you’d just seen at the oak tree. 

You only managed to sleep for about half an hour before your alarm went off at exactly six AM. Any other day, you would’ve snuggled back into bed for a little longer, but on that particular day, you’d jumped out of bed and hadn’t wasted a second before getting ready. You’d run out of the building to meet your friends at the dining hall, where you were currently at.

Damiano, Rory, Vic, and Will were already sitting at your usual table in front of the large window when you arrived. The curly-haired boy was practicing for a presentation while your three friends listened and made a few comments here and there on things they thought he should change. 

“Good morning everyone,” You murmured, then took a seat in between Damiano and Will, who turned to look at you and frowned, “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” You nodded and put on the best smile you could manage. Then you stole one of the berries from his plate even though you weren’t hungry at all. 

You turned to look at Rory and Damiano, “Hey Ro, has the new phone you ordered arrived yet?” You questioned. After your conversation with Ethan the previous night, you needed to make sure it wasn’t them who had sent the text. Just the thought alone made you shudder in disgust and fear, but you just took a deep breath in and kept a soft smile on your face as your best friend shook their head.

“Funny that you ask that because yesterday I got an email from the store saying the delivery was going to take longer than expected because of the weather issues, so I gotta survive with this piece of crap for a few more days,” They sighed and placed the cracked phone on the table. You wanted to stop holding back the tears right then and there. Rory’s words were the confirmation that someone else had sent the text and you doubted it was Emilia. As much as you didn’t want to, with each passing second you started to believe the threat was true and that someone had died or was terribly hurt somewhere, and you needed to find them before it was too late to save them. 

Then you remembered another one of Ethan’s texts and had to resist the urge to get up and go search for him because you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Instead, you distracted yourself by listening to Will’s presentation practice.

You were close to nodding off at some point as he kept on speaking, “Back in earlier civilizations, it was believed that any type of illness was caused by demons and—Hey, Y/N!” You hummed softly as Will called your name. He poked you on the rib and you swatted his hand away, “Are you sure you’re alright? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” You mumbled sarcastically, “I’m doing fine. I just stayed up working on a project and barely got a wink of sleep,” You let your head rest on Damiano’s shoulder and yawned.

“I wish I were that productive,” Victoria said as she played around with her food. Everyone had insisted on her eating at least a few bites even if she was still sick, “I never do shit.”

Thomas piped into the conversation, catching everyone by surprise as he took a seat next to Victoria, “To be fair, Y/N always complains about feeling half-dead from lack of sleep. I’ll never be crazy enough to sacrifice my sleep for a stupid assignment.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re one project away from failing Year 12,” Victoria laughed and Thomas rolled his eyes, “The other day I put him in charge of finishing this essay thing for philosophy and by the time I went back to check on him, he was already asleep. I honestly still wonder how we’re at this school. I would’ve thrown us out a long time ago.”

“Look who’s decided to join us today!” Damiano exclaimed with a large smile on his face as Emilia and Ethan took a seat right in front of you. It was an unusual occurrence for him to eat with you because, well, you were there and he couldn’t shut his mouth for half an hour while you ate, which usually ended in an argument that made the whole table annoyed. 

You frowned at his appearance. He was struggling to keep his dark eyes open and his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. It was very apparent that he hadn’t slept much either from the bags under his eyes and his slow steps. Ethan was almost like a zombie. 

He shook his head the moment his eyes met yours and your shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been Emilia either. You got up from your seat abruptly and walked away from the table without an explanation. You desperately needed a breath of fresh air before you went insane. So with quick steps, you moved down the hall until you reached one of the open windows next to a couch. You let yourself fall onto the couch and tightly shut your eyes as you breathed the fresh air in.

“You seriously need to calm down. Otherwise everyone will start to notice just how suspicious you’re acting,” You sighed at the sound of Ethan’s irritating voice and up straight on the couch. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands and looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

“You cannot ask me to calm down after what we saw last night. When will it get into your thick skull that whatever this shit is, it’s real. Those threats were real and if we don’t do something we’re both going to end up in jail, or worse, people are going to die. We don’t know who this psycho is nor what they’re capable of doing. We need to do something now before it’s too late,” The words rushed out of your mouth desperately. The urgency in your tone and your voice quivering as you spoke made his face fall. It wasn’t often that he took you seriously, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell he was just as scared as you were and that was enough to make him shut up and listen to all you had to say.

“Shit Y/N, can you lower your voice? We have no clue at all who could ev—” Before he could even finish the whole sentence, the Head Professor cleared her throat. But your heads snapped in her direction and you gulped in fear at the thought of her overhearing the conversation.

Your heart fell to your stomach the moment she spoke, “Just the two I was looking for. I need you in my office right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you turned to look at Ethan, who already had his head turned in your direction. He nudged his head in the professor’s direction and you both followed her as she walked to her office but stayed a few steps behind.

“This is it, we’re going to jail,” You mumbled loud enough so only Ethan could hear. He hushed you and pulled you along when you stopped walking. People were looking at you as you passed by and that only made you feel worse. You loosened the tie around your neck and gulped.

“We are not going to jail unless you don’t pull it together. Now breathe and keep on walking. I’m not your fucking babysitter,” He whisper-yelled and quickened his pace. You sighed and did the same thing. It surely couldn’t be that bad, could it? You were probably just overreacting and the events of the night before had nothing to do with this impromptu meeting. 

You kept those thoughts in mind as the professor opened the door to the small office and you took a seat on one of the two squeaky chairs. The room smelled clean in a comforting way and you let your shoulders relax as you played with your fingers nervously and looked around the place. 

Her office had always been your favorite out of all the professors’. The place was always warm and during the mornings, you could hear coffee brewing in her old coffee machine in the corner of the room. There were books scattered everywhere and piled in a way that didn’t look messy but inviting. During your first weeks at the academy, when you still hadn’t made any friends, you’d go into her office and read while you sat curled up on the couch and enjoyed the warm and calm atmosphere of the place.

Things used to be so much easier back then and you had no clue how things could’ve changed so fast. Back then your relationship with Ethan was decent and you had no trouble with anyone or anything, now you were being threatened into being framed for murder and being sent to jail.

“You totally forgot about our meeting today, didn’t you?” She asked calmly as she poured coffee into one of her cups, filling the room with the delicious and strong scent. The professor pushed her long dark hair out of her face and straightened out her uniform before sitting down opposite to you, “You looked quite shocked. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”

Ethan sat there, speechless, just like you. But then realization hit you and you realized you were just being paranoid and stupid. She’d told you about this meeting weeks in advance. It was supposed to have something to do with your chance to get the sought-after 100% scholarship to study your career at The Oakes. 

“Nothing important whatsoever,” You replied quickly and sat up straight as you placed both hands on your lap. Ethan copied your actions and tied up his long hair with the black elastic that had been on his wrist.

Your eyes followed the professor as she dumped a small spoonful of sugar and mixed it around with the dark liquid. You couldn’t help but notice her hand shaking as she poured the milk and even spilled a bit of it down the side of the cup. 

She cursed under her breath and apologized as she got up to search for a napkin. With furrowed eyebrows, you shared a look with Ethan, who shrugged. 

“I apologize. I’m afraid I’m quite distracted today, but let’s continue. Shall we?” She smiled sweetly and opened up one of the folders on her desk as she sat back down. She grabbed two papers from inside and placed one in front of each of you. 

You picked it up and examined its content. It seemed to be some sort of permission slip, “So, as I’m sure you both know, our academy offers a program for all our brightest students that gives them the opportunity to continue their college studies with everything paid. You two are the people with the highest grades amongst the whole generation. The semester is—.”

Her words were interrupted by a few quick knocks on the door before a professor pushed it wide open. He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands and playing around with his tie as he spoke, “The council wants to have a meeting, professor.���

“I cannot do it right now, I’m—”

“They want to have it now.” 

The professor turned to the two of you nervously and laughed awkwardly. She stood up from the chair after quickly pushing it back, “I’ll see you another day, okay? Meanwhile, please send a scan of that permission slip to your parents and have them sign it, as soon as possible.” 

Once both professors were out of sight and had closed the door, leaving the two of you alone, Ethan spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

“No shit. Neither one could stop shaking. I say we go and try to listen to what the council members are saying,” You suggested and stood up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit back down.

“We need to go back to the oak tree first. Y/N, if this is all real and there’s something going on, we need to find that body before they do,” He said firmly. Both his tone and stare were serious and you could tell that there was no way in hell he’d take no for an answer. Instead of arguing, you agreed and walked out of the office right behind him, but then you paused as his words registered into your brain, “Why do we have to find it before them?”

He didn’t stop walking to respond, so with a groan you started to walk faster until you were right next to him, “You weren’t even attending the school when it happened,” Ethan began to talk under his breath, so quietly you could barely make out the words he was trying to say, “It was years ago so I cannot remember exactly how the story went. You can ask Thomas though, he has better memory than I do,”

“Either way, there was this boy who’d just gotten into college and during the secret society’s initiation, he was told to climb the highest tower at that campus but he slipped and fell like ten stories. Like I said, it was a secret society that neither the public nor the parents knew about. If the story of what had really happened got out it’d ruin the school and some of the most important students would’ve been sent to jail, so they twisted it to look like a suicide and got away with it. The only reason we know about it is because one of Will’s cousins, the duke, was involved in it all and Will told us all about it.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true. C’mon, it’s Will,” You laughed, “The same guy who convinced everyone in class that your family secretly ran part of the Italian mafia.”

Ethan only shrugged and stopped walking to knock on the door of the greenhouse. You’d left yours at your dorm that morning from how distracted you were, so you had to wait for Mr. Murphy to open up and let you through.

When he finally opened the door, his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked at the two of you in confusion, “What in God’s name has happened to get you two in the same place without fighting?” He mocked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as a smile appeared on your face.

“I assure you, we can both be perfectly civil. Besides, it’s for a homework we need to do. And believe me it’s the last thing I want to be doing,” You lied and walked into the greenhouse with Ethan following behind, “Anyways, we’re gonna go to the lake to get some water and—”

“I’m afraid you cannot go out there,” He interrupted. You frowned at his words and tilted your head to the side.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing you should care about, kids. Just go to class, yeah? There’s someone coming and if you want to stay out of trouble you better leave before they arrive.”

YOU CAN VOTE ON THIS CHAPTER’S POLL RIGHT HERE. THIS POLL CLOSES AT 12:30 PM CDT ON TUESDAY.

[chidoroki]

TPN - Krone one-shot

Ah, another extra chapter. Shirai and Demizu are so good to us. Anyways, I was quite surprised learning more about Krone's time training at the sister academy. From what little we saw from her and Isabella's flashbacks in early chapters and season 1, we know how competitive and serious the girls are at the facility, given the extreme nature of everyone's current situation. All the girls are quite literally fighting for their own lives here, so once Cecile was introduced, I was pleasantly surprised. (this is our first time meeting her right?)

We soon learn that both were from the same GF house and as any natural older sibling would do, she steps in to help Krone avoid getting scolded by finding her missing embroidery. She then makes it plainly clear that it is best not to show any sort of weakness while at the facility. Everyone there is prove themselves worthy of becoming a sister or mother, and if they don't fulfill those qualifications, they'll be killed. 

Having a close friend in such a terrible place provides Krone with minimal comfort, as Grandma Sarah (that's her name, correct?) reveals how slim their chances are at surviving. Only one girl will survive? That's rough.. and wasteful I feel like? I know there's only four premium farms with about 5(?) houses each, so mom and sister positions are very limited, but wow. Fighting off the other girls might not be much of a challenge emotionally, but to compete against your own sibling? Well, that's different. Fortunately for Krone, Cecile has other intentions. (can i say that at this point i already love this girl?)

A hopeful idea, of course, but Krone brings up the chip they each have implanted in their hearts. You leave the facility? Dead. You somehow break the chip? The higher-ups get notified and you're as good as dead anyway. Cecile mentions how the pocket watch Grandma has doubles as a sort of gadget that could disable their chips, so all that has to be done is steal it and use it for themselves. Cecile's wealth of knowledge doesn't stop there, as she then shows Krone a map of the entire headquarters that was secretly put together by former trainees that once thought of escaping. At first, I found this a little hard to believe. One, that such an embroidery was passed down so often between other girls over an unknown amount of time and someone like Grandma never found it. Two, that there were so many girls who were willing to help each other out like this.. but then I remembered ch170 and how eager and willing the ladies were to join together under Isabella's command, so I believe it.

As their plan is set in motion, we see familiar events take place, such as the girls physically fighting with each other (because being buff is somehow a prerequisite to look after children? you know, just in case they try to escape and you need to break some legs). I re-watched Krone's flashbacks in ep8 just to see if any of the girls there could possibly be identified as Cecile, but it didn't work out well since that scene is all monochrome anyway, so no luck trying to spot her blonde hair, blue eyes or even her ID number. Seeing them work together though is great.

Honestly, I never really got attached to Krone upon my first watch of the series. Yeah her movements are very animated and fun to watch when she speaks, she's absolutely terrifying when it comes to playing tag, but she never had one of those moments where I was like “okay, I like this character now.” That, and she gets killed off so her screen-time was really limited. Having her plot against the kids was another reason I kinda pushed her aside too, but I'm still thankful she gave them the WM pen (because who knows where they would all be without it). Seeing her and Cecile just act like normal kids and talk about their dreams though, that did it for me. They're both precious!

Anyways, after Grandma forced them to watch some other girl die after a failed escape attempt, due to her heart chip, our girls proceed with their plan, as they make stealing Grandma's watch top priority, lest they end up like the poor girl who just lost her life. Krone manages to successfully claim the watch at the perfect opportunity.. only to be completed fooled.

Not only by the watch, which ends up being just a normal tracker, but by Cecile herself. Needless to say, that I also felt betrayed by this girl because damn it! How could you?! I swear, I just started to like this chick!

I had my doubts before. I knew it was too good to be true that even if these two girls had history together, that it meant absolutely nothing in a harsh environment like this, and Cecile takes great pride in reminding us of that.

It's because of this betrayal that we finally see the Krone we became so familiar with upon her transfer back to GF. Can't really blame her though. To find out that the only person you could trust suddenly turned on you for their own personal gain? Yeah, that's painful. No wonder she had to harden her heart.

I once thought of Krone's plan of taking down Isabella was foolish, (because that woman is an absolute queen and you need all the luck in the world if you wanted to accomplish that) but she had the utmost confidence she could pull it off because she has done it before to her once best friend. With survival as her main goal, Krone wastes no time in selling out Cecile as the mastermind to their escape plan.

Fantastic. She's learning how to take out her competition, thus granting her better chances at becoming a sister or mom. Good for her right? Sure, but also, wrong! TPN then decides to do what it does best: get me emotional, because poor Cecile did all of that just to help Krone survive! She saw how unguarded and scared Krone was upon joining the sister academy. She then vowed, as her older sibling, to protect and prepare her for the cruel reality of this world by teaching her how to be ruthless and survive. (though i'm sure there could've been easier way to accomplish this? like i know only one chick was gonna survive from their class but holy hell, did you have to go through such extremes?)

As if the newest member of the self-sacrifice club didn't upset me enough, they decide to give us this sky scene that is only gonna hit my feels harder whenever I decide to watch episode 8 back again..

Aahh.. I love all these extra chapters we've been getting, truly, but must they always make me feel bad for these characters? These girls deserved so much better! I'm sad. I think Cecile is great. Her methods are a bit extreme but her heart was in the right place.. and now they're both in a better place, ha.

(we're getting an extra chapter for isabella sometime in the future as well and if it's gonna be another sad backstory, then i'm so not ready for it.. i already know i'm gonna cry. i love that woman.)

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Nineteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

But That Does Not Make Us Wise

She was surrounded by trees, sat back against a large trunk of one, on dry grass and leaves, legs stretched out, staring off into the woods. Toby had quietened some time ago, but she could still hear his cries ringing in her ears.

Her eyes were sore from crying, her cheeks still damp.

And guilt gnawed at her heart.

She should have wanted revenge.

She should have wanted to hurt him for killing Mama, Annie and Adam.

She should have accepted the knife.

No, she shouldn’t have.

It had been wrong, all wrong. They should have... she didn’t know what, but it shouldn’t have been that.

How had he been capable of it?

She’d heard sounds and screams that could only have been brought about by awful, awful things... and she knew he’d been the only one to do it.

The men had been cheering him on.

Part of her just wanted to forget it. To push it away and just forget all about it because he had killed her mother and Thom was alive and safe.

But she couldn’t, because, while he was alive and safe, he wasn’t the brother she remembered.

Or, a tiny, traitorous, terrified voice whispered, wanted.

—

Thom ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly as he spat. Wiping some blood from his face with his sleeve, he turned away from the lifeless body as someone handed him a cloth. Wiping the knife clean on it, he searched for his sister. 

He hoped she could have peace now, that she would now know her brother was here to protect her once more, like he should have been doing.

No... Like she’d said, no use wasting time on ‘what ifs’.

When had the little bundle of curls gotten so wise?

A smile pulling at his lips, he dropped the cloth to the ground and sheathed the knife. She was nowhere to be seen, then again he’d gotten a little more into his work than he’d intended so he wasn’t surprised. He just hadn’t been able to stop himself. All he’d seen in his mind was Ada’s pale features, only been able to think about the fact she’d been there when their mother had died. She’d had to deal with too much too soon. Not anymore, not without him.

His gaze fell on Peter, the lad he’d heard from Ada had been keeping her company, and he headed towards him, the young man stood still, looking off towards the trees. Following his gaze, he then saw her, part of her anyway, half of her body obscured by a tree.

Greeting Peter with a nod as the man looked up, he pushed his hands into his pockets.

“How is she?”

Peter drew in a breath, his arms folded across his chest as he kept his gaze on the red-headed woman.

He had watched her from the moment it all began, wanting to go to her but knowing it wasn’t his place. He’d known Zach was watching her, too, and then watched him follow her from a distance as she’d hurried away. She hadn’t gone far, just to the beginning of the woods at the outer edge of the camp.

Zach stood close by still, boot propped up against a tree stump, a cigarette between his lips as he surveyed the trees.

“Well...” Truthfully, Peter didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t really known Toby, but the cries and screams had been enough to make his stomach turn, so, to his shame, he’d looked away, not caring if he was mocked for it. Thankfully no one had, no one had even noticed, too busy watching Thom do what he did best. Actually, he did know what to say, could imagine what Ada was feeling. “... I think she’s in shock. Seeing Toby and all that must’ve brought up a lot of feelings.”

“Yeah, well, she did see that bastard kill our mother.”

Peter just hummed, suspecting there was more to it but knowing he could easily follow after Toby if he spoke anymore.

Luckily, Thom was heading away, moving towards his sister, and Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how calm he was.

Yes, he could imagine just how shocked Ada was.

Thom nodded at Zach as he passed him, the ever silent man just returning it. His eyes returned to Ada, looking at her sat up against the tree, hands in her lap. 

“Hey, little one.”

She wanted to be sick. That nickname. That sweet little nickname he’d used when they were children... but they certainly weren’t children anymore.

“Hey.” Her voice was so quiet, small.

Crouching down in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at him, Thom released a breath. “How are you?”

Her gaze held his, searching. There was blood on his sleeves, she could see in her peripheral vision. She wanted to find remorse in his eyes, or embarrassment, or shame, something human. There was concern, but only for her.

Swallowing, she licked her lips. “I, uhm...”

She had absolutely no idea what to say.

Thom smiled softly as he nodded. “It’s all right, I understand. Seeing him must have been hard.”

She shook her head slightly, swallowing again. “No, well, yes, but... I just...” She had to say it, to speak the words out loud that had been swirling around and around in her head. The faintest of smiles pulled at the corners of her mouth as she spoke quietly. “... I remember you as a boy, Thom. All these years you’ve been just a boy in my mind, and then seeing that... How are you capable of that?”

His brow dipped slightly as he gazed at her. Then his expression softened. “You said you had to do what you had to to get by, Ada. So did I.”

Her heart broke. Of course he’d had to. But when did doing what you had to become who you were?

She didn’t want to argue with him. Despite it, she didn’t want to lose him, not when she’d just got him back, but who was this man? Who was this murderer, this torturer? She was to learn him anew but she just... she couldn’t let that sweet little boy go.

She was so tired, and he must have seen it and taken her silence for it because he straightened and held a hand out to her.

“C’mon, you need to get some sleep, Addy.”

That fucking nickname. Colm’s nickname. It sounded so foreign from Thom. But, she accepted his hand and let him pull her up, his arm going around her instantly. He guided her back towards the camp, and her eyes lifted, finding Zach stood close by. Of course. There was that look in his gaze again that she hadn’t been able to place and she looked away a moment later, not really wanting to identify it.

A group of men were singing a bawdy Irish tune she half recognised, yelling out the chorus, clapping their hands together. They weren’t being quiet but she wasn’t surprised; they really were like a small army all together.

Yet it turned her stomach, the swift return to normality. Yes, Toby had done something awful to her, but she and Thom should have been revelling, not these men. He was their comrade, one of the men he’d been sitting with minutes before his death was even sat with the singing men, shouting along. Thom had had to grow up in this, so why had she been shocked by what he’d become? 

He was sixteen when he joined them, almost a man, and she couldn’t imagine what he must have seen and experienced, how being raised by Colm O’Driscoll must have shaped him into what he was. Colm must have loved it, moulding him in his image; she could just picture him encouraging him to do awful things, to ‘be a man’, twisting the sweet boy who’d help anybody in need into someone who robbed, murdered, destroyed.

Yet she knew that sweetness was still in him, hell, she’d only hours earlier seen it, he’d been so gentle with her, his former self, the Thom she knew and loved but, then again... she was family. Someone he loved. That love and consideration no longer extended to anyone else. It was still there, though, and, by God, she clung onto that as he led her across the camp.

“Here, you can have my tent.”

If he’d said it earlier she would have just pictured the tent she’d been sleeping in for the past two weeks, but this... You could have fit four beds in this space. It was a huge tent, high and spacious. She didn’t even have to duck to step in. She paused as she entered, staring at the first thing her gaze landed on, the raised bed. Her blue shirt and trousers were on it, folded neatly. Peter must have put them there. How far her world had come since she’d changed.

“You need an extra blanket?”

Ada turned to him as he entered, rubbing his hands together. He was smiling, and it was so soft.

She shook her head, not really considering the question. “No, thank you.”

“All right. Let me know if you do need anythin’, I’ll be sleeping just outside. Maybe not for a little while, though.”

Probably was going to drink with his men. Celebrate.

“Okay.”

His smile widened and his eyebrows rose a little. “Well. What a day.”

She found the corners of her mouth lifting as tears began to sting at her eyes. “Yeah. What a day.”

Thom nodded a few times, clearing his throat. “Well. Goodnight, little one, sweet dreams. Don’t run too far away with the fairies.”

Her features crumbled. He used to say that nearly every night to her. Inhaling a breath, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressing against his chest. His arms instantly went around her, holding her tightly, and she closed her eyes, pushing tears down her cheeks, as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She embraced him so tightly, wanting him to feel loved, really loved, as if this small act would change him back.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured, and yes, yes she would.

Sniffing, she nodded and drew back, giving him a smile. “Yeah. Goodnight, Thom.”

“Goodnight, Addy.”

With a pat of her arm and a warm smile, he was then gone, the flap of the tent falling closed behind him.

Ada stood there, still, her gaze fixed on where he’d been, tears still falling.

What a day.

Wiping her cheeks, she blew out a breath and sniffed. Her hands going to her waist, she let her eyes wander the tent. It really was spacious, bigger than she’d ever seen Dutch’s, and she wondered who carried this all around. He couldn’t possibly carry it all with him everywhere he went, was this only for when they were all together? When the hierarchy was in full force and show? There was the bed, big enough to fit another person on, and a table and chair a foot away from it, maps and a lit lantern on it, a few knives—

She paused. Knives.

Crossing the space, she grabbed the nearest one, unsheathing it. It was simple, with leather wrapped around the handle. It was smaller than the other six, some of them rather ornate and splendid. She stared at the one in her hand, watching it glint in the light of the lantern. She didn’t exactly know what she’d need it for but it felt good to have it, comforting. Sheathing it, she slid it into her boot, relieved that it wouldn’t be able to be seen.

If he noticed it was missing, she’d just tell him the truth, that it was comforting. He’d probably be pleased with that.

There was a chest by the table and she opened it, finding shirts, trousers, a few, heavy bags of money and jewels, but not much else. She closed the chest quietly and straightened, looking around again, like she’d suddenly find something else.

There were no personal possessions. No photographs. No trinkets. Aside from the knives... he seemingly had nothing else. She understood that a life evading the law didn’t exactly mean you could cart many things around but the gang had made it work, Mary-Beth had her books, Jack had his toys, Karen had her various jackets, and Arthur—

The twisting of her heart at the thought of him made her want to cry all over again. 

How could she leave and go to him now when she’d just found her brother? Would either man understand that in order for her to breathe they needed to like each other? To get along?

She didn’t want to consider what either of them would think. They both loved her, but... At the end of the day, when all was said and done, where did their loyalty lie?

— 

There was the sound of an axe chopping through wood. Cutlery scraping against metal. Groans, snores, coughs and laughter. Horses snorting. Whistling.

Ada stared at the ceiling of the tent.

Every half an hour or so a new sound had added to the slowly growing din. She’d awoken for the final time two hours before, when it was still dark. She’d known it was useless to try and attempt sleep again.

The moment she’d laid her head on Thom’s pillow she knew it was going to be a restless night. She was too aware of every sound, of every laugh and song that was sung. She wondered what he was doing; was he singing with them? Drinking until he was drunk? Celebrating his revenge?

They’d gone on for hours, the number of voices dwindling but slowly. She thought she heard her brother settle outside the tent at some point but she wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to check. She just lay where she was, curled up on her side, blanket pulled up around her. Her brother’s scent surrounded her, a combination of wood and smoke. It should have been comforting, but instead all she’d been able to do was think about the stranger he was, a few, silent tears escaping every now and then.

She knew she’d slept at some points, though they felt like only the briefest of moments. Not enough.

Inhaling a breath, she shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the flap of the tent. It moved slightly in the morning breeze but not enough for her to see what was going on outside.

Get up and go out. Find Peter.

Funny, her source of annoyance now her solace. Pushing herself up, she rolled her shoulders as she closed her eyes, taking a moment. She could feel the weariness deep in her bones; this lack of sleep was going to kill her, if heart-ache didn’t.

Licking her lips, she opened her eyes and stood, tucking her shirt into her trousers. Brushing the flap aside, she peered out. The ground outside was empty, Thom nowhere to be seen. Stepping out, the crisp morning air washed over her, easing away some of her fatigue.

Maybe I’ll just dunk my head in a bucket of water, that’ll do it.

She looked for Peter but there were so many tents she didn’t have a good view of anything, so she began to wander between them, narrowly avoiding here and there a few men who were asleep on the ground. She sensed someone following her but she didn’t need to check to know it was Zach. Did he ever sleep? Maybe she’d have to ask him how he survived, get a few tips.

Men glanced up or stared at her as she passed, but none greeted her and that suited her just fine. Finding herself back at what seemed like the main area of the camp, near where Toby had met his end, his body now nowhere to be seen, she paused, her gaze drifting across the landscape. She found no sign of Peter. Well, maybe he just wasn’t awake yet.

Zach joined her at her side, lighting himself a cigarette. They stood in silence. It was oddly comforting. The only constant of the last two weeks, his silent presence. Exhaling a long, slow breath, Ada continued her search, then her gaze stopped.

Thom was sat on a chair beside Colm, elbows on his knees, bowl of what looked like porridge in his hands, talking as he ate. Colm was smoking, nodding every now and then and responding. Her heart twisted slightly. They looked so comfortable. It looked normal.

Men passed every few moments, bidding good morning, saying a few words, some just nodding. Her brother and uncle received each one like kings, nodding in return and accepting their greetings. When they resumed their conversation once more, Thom said something that made them both laugh, her brother glancing up at Colm with a grin as the older man tilted his head back, chuckling.

Her heart twisted again.

She’d wanted him to feel loved last night, but he was. He was adored, feared, respected.

Happy.

“Zach.”

The large man paused, and if he was stunned that she’d actually addressed him he, unsurprisingly, didn’t show it. Swallowing, she forced away any hint of tears as she looked up at him.

“I have to get out of here.”

He looked at her, expressionless, his dark brown eyes unreadable. Then he looked away, inhaling on his cigarette.

“You can’t.”

“I will.”

He glanced at her only briefly. It felt dismissive, and she felt foolish for ever having even entertained the idea that he would aid her. He’d been kind, yes... but had he? He’d been watching her constantly, had carried her back to Colm, had barely said a word... He was just like the rest of them.

She suddenly felt angry. Trapped.

Her gaze returned to Thom. Then, she was striding forward.

Just tell him. He loves you, he’s your brother. He’ll understand. He’ll let you leave.

They were laughing together again and it just fuelled her fury.

“Thom.”

Thom was still chuckling as he looked up, his smile widening at the sight of her.

“Hey, Addy.”

Stop it.

Colm tilted his head, resting his hands on his knees. “Well, good morning, Adaline.”

Irritation prickled along her skin.

“Hi.” She fixed her gaze on Thom. “Can I speak with you, please?”

Colm snorted as Thom opened his mouth, his uncle speaking before he could. “’Can I speak with you’, so formal. What’ve you got to say, girl?”

She had to stop her teeth from gritting as she glanced at him. “I want to speak with my brother, alone.”

Her uncle’s eyebrows rose as he sat back, lifting his hands for her to proceed. “Anything you can say to your brother, you can say to me.”

Opening her mouth to snap back, Thom then spoke, scraping the last of his porridge up with his spoon. “What is it?”

Her mouth closed, her teeth now gritting. Taking a moment, she licked her lips and then turned her attention to Colm. “That’s not the point, I want to speak with him alone.”

“Addy...”

Her gaze darted to Thom at his faint sigh, and she didn’t bother to stop her frustrated expression. Sighing again, Thom raised his eyebrows and nodded, rising to his feet.

“All right, all right...”

She tried not to let the patronising edge to it get to her. Watching him place his bowl on his chair, he then turned back to her and—

“Colm!”

Their heads turned swiftly at the shout, watching the source of it, a blonde man, approach, racing towards them.

“What?” came Colm’s irritated reply.

The man was breathing hard as he came to an abrupt halt before them, pointing back behind him. “... Pinkertons!”

Ada stared at him as Thom hissed out a curse, hope, bizarrely, rising within her.

“How many?” Thom demanded, and the man shook his head, still trying to catch his breath, “Fifty of ‘em, I’d say...”

“Shit, Jesus...”

She heard Thom kick at his chair in frustration, the bowl tumbling to the ground, a harsh sigh leaving him, but she just stared at the man, a plan already forming in her mind. She could get away, maybe even with Thom, maybe even—

“Someone must’ve tipped ‘em off with all of us together,” a new voice said, men starting to near as word spread, others grabbing their weapons.

“Or all that fuckin’ noise we were making, I knew this was too close to the road,” Thom hissed. “Colm, what’s our move?”

Silence.

“Colm.”

When he didn’t reply, Ada lifted her gaze to her uncle and—

He was looking at her, a corner of his mouth lifted.

Thom was stood by her side, hands on his hips. “Colm, what do we do?”

Ada held his gaze, hoping she didn’t look as relieved as she felt, and then he inhaled a breath and raised his eyebrows as he stood.

“Get ready for a fight, boys. Probably your last.” As men instantly began running, he settled his hands on his belt and returned his gaze to her. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Her lips parted as her brow dipped. “What?”

“Get out of here.” His smile widened a little more. “Arthur’s Da was English, weren’t he? Can’t be helped, I s’pose.” He nodded behind her. “Go on, now, before they get here.” He then gestured at Thom. “Both of you, go.”

She stood frozen to the spot in disbelief as Thom scoffed and frowned. “What? Colm—”

“You heard me.” Colm’s tone was sharper. “Both of you, get outta here. You keep each other safe, you hear?”

Thom stepped forward. “Colm, I ain’t leaving you—”

“Yes, you are, boy.” Colm placed a hand on his nephew’s shoulder and shoved him back. Looking between them, both of them stunned, his tongue ran along his teeth. “You’ve all each other got left. Get out of here.”

This was her chance.

Her hand reached out to her brother, gripping his arm. “Come on, Thom...” She started to walk backwards, pulling at his arm as he stood there, staring at his uncle. “... Thom, come on!”

It took Colm turning and striding away without another word to them for Thom to start moving, his jaw set.

“Any of you make it, you head up to Little Creek!” Colm shouted as Thom placed a hand on her back and they strode in the opposite direction to their uncle.

“Go to the horses, there, and get yourself one, all right, mine’s the bay with the white face.” Thom was back in charge now, pushing her into a jog. “I’ll be two minutes, you hurry to the trees over there, all right?”

“Where are you going?” she called, even as she headed towards the small group of horses.

“Just gettin’ some things, go!”

Then he was gone, sprinting away towards the tents. Swallowing, she ran for the horses, talking softly to them as men shouted and cursed. Shots started to be fired as she grabbed at the reins of Thom’s horse and one closest to it, a dapple grey. They were unfazed at the sounds, used to it, and it was a small mercy as she led them away, passing men who were running towards the sound of the battle.

She made it to the trees he’d gestured towards, pulling the horses to a halt as she looked back towards the camp. It was loud and rapid now, the gunfire, and she bit at her lower lip as her eyes darted about, trying to find Thom amongst the moving men.

Come on, come on, come on...

There was a strange, joyful energy within her. She could get them away, they could leave, and this opportunity had just been handed to her, like a gift from God. She could take him away, convince him now that it would just be the two of them that they could get Arthur and leave, go somewhere away from all of this, create a new life...

Her hope rose as she saw him, not running but just striding towards her, something in each hand. It wasn’t until he neared that she realised he was holding the bags of money in one hand, his knives in the other.

Moving to his horse’s saddlebag, he slid them in, glancing over his shoulder every few moments.

“This is really fuckin’ bad, there’s so many of them...”

Mounting the dapple, she gathered the reins as she pressed her lips together. “We have to go, Thom, come on.”

His jaw was moving as he stared at the camp, securing the bag closed without looking.

“Thom.”

He looked to her and she saw it; the hesitation. It made her heart ache, but she couldn’t dwell on it. So she played her hand.

“Please,” she murmured softly, her expression imploring.

 He held her gaze. Then, he was mounting his horse, releasing a breath. She turned her horse around, keeping her eyes on her brother, expecting him at any moment to just bolt towards the fight, because she could see it was killing him to abandon them.

Urging the horse on, she was relieved when he followed, his shoulders squared, not looking back. They headed down a hill, and she kept her eyes on the trees, hoping the Pinkertons wouldn’t have been smart and rounded the back of the camp. There was a cacophony of sounds now, a mix of yelling, gunfire and cries, but she ignored it all. She couldn’t think about Peter or Zach or her uncle and what their fates would be, she just focused on that she would soon be free, her brother with her.

She prompted the horse into a canter as the land levelled out and turned her head to her brother as he did the same. “Come on, I know a place.”

She caught his frown just before she returned her attention to the trees.

“What?”

“Trust me.”

Ada left no room for a discussion as she turned onto a path and spurred the horse into a gallop. She heard Thom behind her, knowing he was following.

Good. At least he did trust her.

—

Willard’s Rest was quiet, appearing as empty as when she and Arthur had been there.

Arthur. How long ago that happiness felt. Her chest ached. She’d tried not to think about him on the journey over, it just hurt too fucking much. Thankfully it had been a shorter journey than she’d expected, the O’Driscoll’s having gathered to the west of Willard’s Rest. As they’d crossed over the river towards it is when her heart started to hurt.

What joy she and Arthur had shared here, and such a short time later she had no idea where or how he was.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Thom had stopped.

“Ada.”

Or that he’d been speaking to her.

Turning her head, her eyebrows raised as she looked to him. “Sorry, what?”

He pointed up ahead towards the cabin. “There’s smoke.”

“What?”

Her head whipped round to look towards it and sure enough there it was, curling up above the trees towards the sky. Pulling her horse to a halt, she exhaled a breath, pressing her lips together.

“Shit...” she murmured, the horse shifting it’s weight underneath her. 

 “What now?”

Looking back at him, she found him leaning forward, his arms resting on the pommel expectantly. Almost like he was waiting for her to say she didn’t know so he could take over.

Well, not today.

“We’ll see who’s there, maybe we could run them off, this is a good place.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly as he sat up, gesturing for her to proceed. “All right.”

Trying not to grit her teeth, she moved the horse on, taking the thin path that wound up towards the cabin. The place was quiet, a light breeze making branches sway and leaves shake. She halted when she caught sight of the building, hearing Thom do the same, and she dismounted.

“We’ll carry on on foot so we don’t get spotted,” she murmured, glancing at him as she started to search in the saddlebags for a weapon.

He dismounted silently, and she was very much getting the sense that he wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone other than his uncle, but he was following hers so that bolstered her slightly.

She only found bullets and a few coins, though she was hardly surprised. The men seemed to carry all their possessions on them at all times. Turning to her brother as he patted his horse’s neck, she glanced at the revolvers strapped to his belt.

“I don’t have a weapon.”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at her, shifting his weight to one foot. “... You want one of my guns?”

“Yes, please.” She held her hand out.

He just looked at her, then he exhaled a faint laugh and withdrew one, placing it in her hand.

“Guess it’s about time I saw you in action.”

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that.” Adjusting her grip on the gun, Ada turned and crouched slightly, moving across to the trees opposite the archway of the property.

It was so quiet; whoever was in there was either alone or...

Her gaze drifted across the porch. It was cleaner, and there were small flowers dotted along the front of it.

Somebody was living here.

“Shit...” she breathed, dragging her teeth over her lower lip.

“What?”

She glanced at her brother, the tree he was leaning against doing nothing to obscure his tall frame.

“I think someone’s living here.”

“So?”

“So, we can’t just drive them out.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is their home.”

“And?”

It should have saddened her that she wasn’t surprised.

Licking her lips, she exhaled a harsh breath. “We are not driving someone out of their home, Thom.”

Raising his eyebrows, he lifted his hands in surrender before folding his arms. “What are we gonna do, then?”

Biting at the inside of her cheek, she shrugged. “We’ll just ask for some shelter and maybe a little food, depending on how they receive us.”

He scoffed, looking up at the cabin. “You think they’re gonna be welcomin���?”

“It’s worth a chance, isn’t it?”

“Not if we get shot.”

“We won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” She pressed her lips together at his smile.

Shaking his head, he chuckled. “It’s nice to know you’re still bossy.”

Before she could reply, he had straightened, dropped his arms, and was striding up towards the cabin.

“Thom,” she hissed, but he didn’t even look back. Muttering a curse under her breath, she tightened her grip on the revolver and hurried after him.

“Hello!” he called out rather jovially, moving under the archway.

There was a slight movement by one of the windows. Ada kept a few feet behind him, her hand half-raised. She hoped to God she would be a faster shot than whoever was in there.

The front door opened a crack, and she paused, staring at it, trying to make out who was there. Thom, on the other hand, was undeterred, continuing on, his hands on his belt.

“Hello, there!” He was practically strolling, calm as could be.

“What do you want?” came a soft, feminine voice, which finally made Thom stop.

Ada took another few steps closer, trying to make the woman out but she could only see less than half of her face. There could be others in there, using her as a shield or as a means to lull them into a false sense of security potentially.

Thom raised his hands, showing they were empty. “We just want some shelter, ma’am.”

“Well, I... I’m alone here.”

Ada believed her instantly; there was an edge of resignation in her tone, of sadness, of fear. Closing the distance between her and Thom, she swiftly holstered the gun into the waistband of her trousers at the small of her back before raising her hands, too.

“We won’t hurt you, ma’am, I promise. I stayed here a little while ago, I’m sorry, I thought the place would still be abandoned.”

The woman widened the door, though only a few inches, but Ada could see she had black hair that was pinned up neatly, and her clothes were rather fine, too. “It was. My husband and I moved here just over a week ago, but now he’s...” She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. The woman then smiled slightly. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“Yes, ma’am, we’d like that very much,” Thom answered, his tone having softened a touch, and Ada lowered her hands in the same moment he did.

The woman stepped back and opened the door fully as they approached, her small smile lingering.

“Thank you,” Ada smiled softly, nodding at her as she passed, and then she paused as she took in the room.

It had changed vastly from when she and Arthur had been here. There were things now, trinkets and some photographs, and it was clean and tidy, a beautiful red rug on the floor, a doily on the centre of the table, the chairs neatly tucked into it. The fire was dwindling but it felt warm and like a home. 

The woman closed the door and Ada turned to her as Thom appraised the room, his hands in his pockets.

“I’m Ada, and this is my brother, Thom.”

She saw Thom nod at the woman as she clasped her hands together, wringing them a little; she was nervous.

“How do you do, I’m Charlotte.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Charlotte, and thank you so much, I hope we’re not an inconvenience.”

“No, no, not at all.” Dropping her hands, Charlotte moved to the kitchen area, lifting a tin kettle. “Please, take a seat, make yourselves at home.”

Ada glanced at Thom as Charlotte began to busy herself, both of them pulling a chair out and sitting. Thom stretched his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle and Ada sat with her legs together, hands clasped in her lap. She couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering the room again. She just couldn’t believe how different it was. Maybe she and Arthur should have stayed, made it their own and just... She didn’t know. Tried to get John, Abigail, Jack and the others free from here? No, Arthur would have never left them... God, she hoped with all her might that they were okay.

As Charlotte set the kettle over the fire, she cleared her throat and then turned back to them. “I haven’t got much food, I... Well, I haven’t had a chance to go to town and I don’t know how to hunt, I’m afraid.”

Thom shook his head slightly, shrugging. “I’ll get somethin’, no bother.”

Charlotte released a breath as she looked at him, her smile widening. “Really? Oh, that’d be very kind and very appreciated.”

Thom stood with a faint smile, his hands on his belt. “It’s fine. I’ll go and find somethin’ now.”

“Thank you!” Charlotte called after him, the tall man already having opened the door and striding through it, Ada saying after her, “Don’t go too far!”

She smiled lightly as she met the other woman’s gaze, then nodded at the fire. “Have you got any wood?”

Charlotte’s cheeks tinging pink and her slightly sheepish expression was all the answer she needed.

Over the next few hours, Ada chopped wood for her, showed her the best and quickest technique, and helped her with a few other odd jobs, grateful to finally be busy and useful for the first time in two weeks. When Thom returned with a deer he’d shot, Charlotte had looked like she was going to cry with relief. They helped her prepare and cook it, showing her how, and Ada found herself unable to believe she was so... unprepared for this kind of life. She politely asked over the fine meal they shared how Charlotte had come to end up here, and her heart broke for her as she told of how her husband had wanted to live this kind of ‘simple’ life, that she’d been excited for it, but then he’d unfortunately passed away. Ada didn’t press her about the cause and neither did Thom, who was silent for the whole time; Charlotte still seemed quietly devastated about it, naturally.

Ada helped her wash up as Thom chopped some more wood and made sure the horses were fed, watered and secured for the night. She’d warmed to the woman almost instantly, believing there to be a quiet, maybe even unrealised strength in her. She was unprepared, yes, but she had seemed eager to learn and had listened attentively to everything they’d said. She even shared a laugh with her as they washed and dried up, fascinated by Charlotte’s stories of the city she’d come from. How different a world it seemed, even as it was growing smaller.

As they finished and fell silent, Ada glanced out of the window, watching Thom light himself a cigarette as he looked out at the land. Licking her lips, she then looked to the woman.

“Charlotte,” she began gently, “I hate for us to be a burden, but could we possibly stay the night? Of course it’s okay if not—”

Charlotte was already shaking her head and smiling. “I’d like nothing more, Ada. I’ve missed company, and it’s the least I could do for your help.”

Ada felt relief course through her as she smiled. “Thank you so much, that’s very kind.”

“It’s no trouble at all, believe me.”

Charlotte was so delighted at having company, in fact, that she immediately went and made sure the bedroom was suitably prepared for them, having politely refused Ada’s help after the red-haired woman had assured her that they would be happy sharing a room.

Ada took the time to tend to the fire, and as Charlotte came out, Thom came in from the porch, shutting the door behind him with a cough.

“Well, the room’s ready for you both,” she said as she clasped her hands together, a warm smile on her lips.

Bless you, Charlotte, bless you.

Rising to her feet, Ada exhaled a long breath. “Well, I think I’m gonna turn in now, I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Thom surprised her by agreeing.

“Thank you both so much for today,” Charlotte beamed, stepping away from the door.

“Please, we should be thanking you a thousand times over.” Please don’t ask why, I don’t want to tell you we’re fugitives. “Good night, Charlotte.”

“Goodnight, Ada.”

As she passed her she squeezed the woman’s arm gently, making her smile widen, and then she was in the room, nearly sighing in relief at the sight of the bed.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Thom.”

Was that a slight hitching in their host’s breath? Sitting on the edge of the bed, she just caught the end of Thom and Charlotte holding each other’s gaze before Thom stepped into the room.

Oh, she recognised that look in a man. And she didn’t blame him, Charlotte was an attractive woman and seemingly unfailingly kind. It was a shame she was stuck up here on her own.

Thom closed the door behind him, and Ada raised her eyebrows slightly as he now met her gaze.

“Well... Are we gonna top and tail?”

He arched an eyebrow, his arms folding. “Do you still kick in your sleep?”

Her mouth opened, then closed.

Thom snorted. “I’ll take the floor.”

“No, come on, it’s not fair, we can share...”

Moving to the end of the bed, he glanced at her, kicking his boots off. “You could’ve at least tried to sound convincing.”

Her lips twitched as she kicked her own boots off, hoping he wouldn’t hear the knife moving inside one, before lifting her feet up onto the bed, crossing her legs. “Do you want to get kicked in the head?”

He huffed out a laugh, taking a couple of pillows from the bed before returning to the end of it. “My head’s been hit more than enough times, no, thank you.”

Ada fell silent at that, the insinuation of the scuffles and battles he’d been in. The reminder of the violence he was capable of. She twisted her ring around her finger as she looked at him, watching him lay the pillows down and then pull a blanket off the end of the bed.

She didn’t think she’d ever be able to describe what she was feeling. Elation, sadness, unease. All of it mixed in to create... exhaustion.

There was another emotion, too. But she’d never be able to say it.

“So, how d’you know about this place.” His gaze met hers. 

She smiled lightly, shrugging a shoulder. “A friend and I came here.”

“Was that friend Arthur?”

She watched him, trying to gauge his thoughts as she cleared her throat. “No... but he and I did also come here after.”

“Uh-huh.”

Surprisingly, there was a faint smirk at the corners of his mouth.

Lifting her chin a little, she shrugged again. “Well, it’s none of your business, so.”

“Nah, I guess it isn’t.”

She narrowed her eyes at him slightly as she felt her cheeks heat, his smirk growing.

“Stop it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Judging.”

“I’m not judging. I’m not an old woman.”

“Good.” She raised her chin a little higher as he unbuckled his gunbelt. “Because I can imagine you’ve done your fair share of... relations.”

He laughed. Actually tipped his head back and laughed. Grinning, his eyebrows high, he looked at her. “’Relations’?”

Her cheeks were practically red, even as her lips twitched. “What would you rather I say? Fucking?”

Thom pulled a face, scratching at his jaw as he placed his guns down by his pillow. “Ooff, hearing my little sister curse... If anything was gonna ruin the image of that sweet little girl—”

She scoffed, just about resisting the urge to put her hands on her waist. “Uh, you were the one who taught me curse words, so, what do you expect.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But do you remember I made you promise not to say them?”

She pursed her lips as she feigned thinking deeply. “Hmm... no, nope, don’t recall that.”

“Of course you don’t, you little tomcat...”

She smacked his hand away as he leaned over and ruffled her hair.

“Get off.”

He chuckled as he crouched down and sat on his make-shift bed, before lying back, stretching his legs out. She in turn blew out the candle on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness, lay back and pulled a blanket up over herself, her hands settling on her stomach.

It was a comfortable enough bed, and she was damn happy for it.

“I hope I get a good night’s sleep,” she found herself murmuring.

“Oh, my tent not good enough for you?” came his voice in the dark.

“Well... it was too loud.”

“Hm, can’t argue with you on that.” She heard him shift slightly. “I bet that’s how we were found.”

“Well, there were a lot of you.”

“Yeah, but...” She stayed silent as he exhaled a breath. “It’s never happened before. World’s changing.”

Her lips lifted a little. “Arthur said that. Pinkerton’s have been going after us rather vigorously, too.”

Ada didn’t realise that she’d said ‘us’, that her brother would think about nothing else for the next couple of hours, that it would consume him.

“That so.”

“Yeah, but here we are, living to fight another day.”

Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes as she curled up, her smile lingering as she couldn’t believe she got to say what she was about to for the second time.

“Goodnight, Thom.”

There was a small pause, then a quiet, “Goodnight, Addy.”

The nickname was, slowly, starting to not bother her.

—

The next morning, she awoke before Thom.

He slept quietly, arm under his pillow, his lips parted. Sitting up, she watched him for a few minutes, still not quite believing he was really there, really alive.

He looked so at peace. So unburdened. Here was the sweet boy she remembered.

She couldn’t believe how easy it had been to slip back into the role of a sibling, of how comfortable and easy it was, even after all this time.

Her rumbling stomach soon pulled her from her disbelief, and she carefully moved off the bed and headed out, closing the door quietly. Charlotte was already awake, too, her hair pinned up neatly once more, another set of fine clothes on.

They bade each other good morning, and shared toast and coffee, gazing out of the window and idly commenting on the weather. It was a clear day, a few clouds here and there. After Ada complimented Charlotte on her clothing, the woman offered to give her a few items, saying she’d brought too many. Ada refused politely at first but Charlotte insisted and, well, she did need a change of clothes. Once they’d finished eating, Charlotte led her out the back door to the small, private washing area which housed a bath tub, and Ada jumped at the chance to bathe in something that wasn’t a river.

With her permission, Charlotte stayed, helping her wash her hair and talking with her. Ada found it easy to talk to her, and she had obviously been starved of company and good conversation. They talked about the new fashion of the city, what new things were being invented and imported over, and Ada told her about the nearby towns and the best places to buy food for a good price. She even found herself telling Charlotte about why they had come to her, hoping her judgement of character was correct, but, perhaps thankfully, Charlotte was so new to the area that the name Colm O’Driscoll only rang a faint bell. Nevertheless, Ada didn’t give too many details, she didn’t want to frighten her.

After helping her dress into new underclothes, a light blue skirt and a light grey blouse, Charlotte then braided her dry hair up into a style she’d not had before, a plait wrapped around a bun Charlotte had made, a few smaller curls escaping and framing her face.

She felt like an entirely new woman, clean, fresh, human. Inspecting herself with a hand-mirror, she smiled widely and looked to Charlotte.

“Wow, you’re a miracle worker.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Both women looked up to find Thom, finally awake, leaning against the doorframe, eating an apple. He’d not run a comb through his hair yet, maybe he wouldn’t, and his clothes were wrinkled.

Charlotte laughed softly. “Oh, no, I just provided the clothes.”

“I wouldn’t be so unfair to yourself. You’ve made my sister look like a proper lady.”

Ada snorted as she set the hand-mirror down and arched an eyebrow, a hand on her hip. “And you’re the perfect gentleman? You look like you’ve just wandered in off the street.”

“I only said you look like a lady, I know you’d never actually be one.” Ignoring his sister’s narrowed eyes, smiling widely, his gaze then shifted to the other woman. “You look nice, too, Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s smile widened as a pink tinge rose on her cheeks, her hands clasping together. “Thank you, Thom.”

“My pleasure.” Taking a bite of his apple, he was then turning and disappearing back inside.

Glancing at Charlotte, Ada found her smile and blush lingering.

Oh, God, this is the last thing I need.

Clearing her throat, she smiled as the other woman quickly looked to her. “Shall we have some tea?”

They all sat together at the table, drinking their tea quietly, and now the day was really beginning, Ada found Thom had the same thoughts as her on his mind.

“What’s gonna happen now, then?”

Taking a breath, she steeled herself as she met his gaze. “I’m gonna go into Annesburg, see if anyone knows anything yet.”

He nodded. “All right, I’ll come with you.”

Ada shook her head, her features softening slightly. “No, stay here, please. They might be searching for O’Driscolls still and someone could recognise you.”

His jaw moved, but she knew that he knew she was right. After a few moments, he nodded once, exhaling a breath. “Fine. But if you’re not back in a couple of hours—”

“I will be, I promise.” She gave him a light smile before her gaze shifted to Charlotte. “Would you like me to get you anything from the store while I’m there?”

The woman lit up. “Oh, yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble, I need some bread and cheese, and bullets, I guess,” she laughed softly as she looked to the Repeater propped by the fireplace. “Not that I know how to use the damn thing, but...” She trailed off suddenly as her smile faded. “... Actually, I don’t have much money—”

Ada had opened her mouth but it was Thom who spoke. “Please, our gift, repayment for your hospitality. And I can show you how to use the gun.”

Ada glanced at him, trying not to raise her eyebrows as Charlotte smiled widely. “Oh, thank you, that would be very kind.”

A corner of Thom’s mouth lifted higher than the other. “No bother at all.”

Oh, God... Don’t worry, brother, I’ll be back very soon.

—

The horse snorted quietly as her head tossed a little, and Ada patted her neck.

“Nearly there,” she murmured, and she was grateful for it herself.

In fact, she actually breathed a sigh of relief as they turned onto the path leading up towards Willard’s Rest. She’d only been gone nearly two hours now, but unease had loomed over her every minute.

What if she turned a corner and there were Pinkertons? Or Murfrees? Other O’Driscolls? Or anyone else who would do her harm? She’d briefly considered turning back and asking Thom to come with her but she knew she couldn’t risk it, wouldn’t risk it. 

Besides, Thom had given her one of his guns, and when she actually got into Annesburg people were as unbothered as they’d been when she and Sadie had passed through one time. The mining town was loud and calmly busy as always, people walking about, talking, working, but nobody stared for long; there was too much to do.

She bought what was needed from the store, making idle conversation with the owner, then found a boy selling newspapers outside and he’d told her what was going to happen.

She’d let the horse walk back for the entire journey, trying to think about what she could say to Thom, how she could dissuade him from what she knew he was going to want.

As she arrived back at the cabin, the sky turning a little grey, she had no firm answers.

Moving under the archway, her stomach twisted as she paused. She could see Charlotte and Thom through the window, the warm fire illuminating them. She was smiling and listening intently to whatever he was saying, and he looked so relaxed.

This could have been their life. 

She had no idea where that thought came from, but she imagined, then, indulged herself for a moment, that things had been different, that she was just visiting her brother and his wife. His wife... Charlotte was everything her mother would have wanted in a daughter-in-law; educated, polite, kind. She was perhaps everything Thom would have wanted in a partner, too. Then again, she had no idea what her brother wanted. 

No matter, it was a nice fantasy.

They looked up as she entered, Thom’s shoulders relaxing a little as Charlotte’s smile widened.

“Ada!” Charlotte greeted her, but then the smile faded as they saw her expression.

Clearing her throat, Ada closed the door and moved towards the table, placing the few items she had bought down. Then, her hands went to the back of the chair before her, resting on it.

Looking to her brother, she met his gaze.

“Colm’s to be hanged.”

Thom held her gaze, expression unchanging.

“When.”

“Tomorrow, noon, in Saint Denis.”

“Lord, that’s quick,” Charlotte murmured gently.

Shifting her stance, Ada licked her lips. “I believe he’s to be made an example of.” Her gaze returned to her brother. “And I suppose they don’t want to risk his men breaking him out.”

He gave no reaction again. Then, he was rubbing his jaw before dropping his hand. As he took a breath, she readied herself for it.

“Ada, I know you got certain feelings about him, but I have to be there. You weren’t there for all those years that he looked after me, you didn’t see him. He was a good man.”

How these men had such hold over their boys.

But... she knew he’d go no matter what, so why fight? 

She nodded a few times, a slight smile pulling at her lips. “All right.”

Nodding, he suddenly rose, pushing his chair back. “If we go now, we can camp outside Saint Denis, be there first thing.”

“Thom, we...” She trailed off, her brother already heading into the room they’d shared.

Exhaling a breath, Ada glanced at Charlotte, and smiled quickly as the other woman met her gaze.

“I guess we’ll be going, then.”

Barely ten minutes later, they were outside, readying their horses. Charlotte stood on the porch, watching them, and Ada’s heart ached at the thought of her being alone here again. Licking her lips, she ran her hand along her horse’s neck as she moved towards her.

Smiling softly, Ada moved onto the porch, lifting her hands a little. “I really can’t thank you enough, Charlotte, you’ve been far too kind.” 

The dark-haired woman just waved her hand slightly, dismissively, a gentle smile on her lips. “It really was my pleasure.”

And then, because it felt right and needed, Ada closed the distance between them and hugged her. Charlotte paused for only a split-second before she was returning it, exhaling a small breath.

“You can write to me, if you like,” she murmured quietly, and Ada nodded before stepping back, her smile widening a little more.

“I will, I promise. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too. My home is always welcome to you, to both of you.” Her gaze lifted from Ada to Thom, and she nodded at him.

Ada looked to her brother, too, and he was smiling lightly.

“Thank you, Charlotte. I’ll come back and check on you soon, make sure that Repeater’s being put to good use.”

Charlotte exhaled a soft laugh as she clasped her hands together. “I’d like that.”

She stood on the porch and waved to them as they departed, and she stood there until they were out of sight. Once she could no longer see her, Ada faced the road, and glanced at her brother.

“... Will you now,” she murmured, arching an eyebrow as her lips twitched.

Thom side-eyed her. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving any look, I’m just... surprised, is all.”

“Well... She’s a nice woman. Shouldn’t be there on her own.” Before Ada could say another word, he was urging his horse into a canter. “Now, c’mon, I want to get there before it gets dark.”

She didn’t know why he was so eager to get to Saint Denis when they’d still have to wait until the next day to actually see Colm. It wasn’t like he could visit him at the jail, either, it would be too risky, someone could identify him and then where would that leave them?

It wasn’t until they were at the town limits, wasn’t until they had set up camp under a large tree, wasn’t until she had settled down for the night after they’d eaten, wasn’t until she heard him quietly heading towards the town when he thought she was asleep, wasn’t until she followed him, keeping a distance and in the shadows, wasn’t until she saw him heading into a bar, wasn’t until she peered through a window and saw Zach, Dorian, and four other O’Driscolls, all of them listening to her brother, that she realised.

He was planning on rescuing Colm.

—

Ada watched him as he stamped the fire out, lacing her boots up.

She’d returned to their camp hours before him. In fact, she’d only stared through the window for a few moments before turning on her heel and striding away.

Why was she surprised? What else could she have done?

Gone in? Confronted them? Caused a scene? Potentially have had them arrested? Her brother wouldn’t have listened to her no matter what she did. He knew her feelings, knew she wouldn’t want to help. And she knew his. Knew he was stubborn, would want to save the man who had practically raised him, of course he would.

She’d lain on her bedroll, staring up at the dark night sky, and had felt so useless. Trapped, again. She didn’t want to leave her brother, didn’t want to turn him in, and she knew he wouldn’t listen, but how could she let him save Colm? She knew what that would mean for her; being trapped with them again with no way of escaping. 

Then had come the guilt.

How awful that she wanted to escape the brother she’d thought had been dead for years.

He’d returned in the early hours of the morning, quietly and alone, and she’d kept her eyes closed.

Now, with time ticking past, noon drawing closer, she’d finally decided what to do.

Wait and see.

She knew, with such a public hanging as this, that there would be a crowd and plenty of officers. Hell, they probably anticipated an attempt at a rescue and would have men everywhere. But she also knew the O’Driscolls didn’t fight fair, so there was still a chance they could be successful. If they were, she would run. She would find a way, seize a moment, and run in whatever chaos and confusion was caused. If they weren’t, then, well... She would speak with her brother. Try to reason with him.

They weren’t the best plans she’d ever come up with but they’d have to do.

They rode into Saint Denis silently, their horses walking idly. As they neared the place he was to be hanged, what was usually a very small park, they turned off the cobbles and down onto the dirt path beside it, drawing their horses to a halt some way down. Dismounting, she adjusted the scarf Charlotte had given her, the green garment she tied under her chin hiding her hair. She didn’t think any officers or Pinkertons would know who she was, but she didn’t want to risk it. Thom was the one she was concerned about, but he had a hat on, pulled low so it covered most of his face, and it would have to do. 

They moved up towards the walled park, and her gaze scanned the sizeable crowd that had already gathered, anticipation running through the air.

She saw two O’Driscolls who had been in the bar the night before stood together, talking and laughing, looking up at the scaffold. Her jaw moved slightly. Perhaps it was good the crowd was large; she could get lost in it. Thom led the way, moving through the crowd, pushing through until he suddenly came to a stop, holding his arm out slightly so there was space of her to stand beside him. He dropped the arm after a moment, his hands going into his pockets and he stared up at the platform, too.

She glanced at him, swallowing lightly. If this went well for him and she had to run, she hoped he would be able to forgive her, that part of him would understand. 

Only time would tell, and as voices in the crowd started to rise, jeers and curses being spat, and her eyes lifted to the gallows, she knew it would be mere minutes because there he was.

Colm O’Driscoll was led onto the scaffold, his hands tied behind his back, by an important looking man and three officers, two of them carrying rifles. He looked even more dishevelled than usual, wearing an untucked shirt, trousers and shoes, a white bandanna around his neck. 

The jeering of the crowd grew louder as one of the men made Colm stop at the centre of the platform, making him gaze out at the crowd. She glanced at Thom again, wondering how he felt knowing Colm was really and truly hated, but his features were expressionless, just watching his uncle.

“Fair citizens of Saint Denis...” the bespectacled, important looking man began, raising his hands slightly to get them to quieten, a hush descending. There was a strange energy in the air, anticipation and anger and excitement. The man’s voice rang out as he continued. “... For as long as any of us can remember, it is justice that separates us from barbary. Yet justice itself at times can be barbaric. For sometimes, a man is so savage the only way to deal with him justly is by savagery. Colm O’Driscoll is one such man.” He paused to allow the crowd their calls and shouts of agreement. Thom didn’t move beside her. “He has murdered, tortured, robbed, stolen, raped and abused for a decade across five states. Seemingly with impunity.” The man was having to talk louder now as the shouts from the crowd swelled. Ada, even by just mere association with the man on the platform, felt her cheeks burn with shame. She didn’t want to look at Thom, didn’t want to see what she knew was there; nothing, calm. “... Today, justice catches up with him.”

As the crowd cheered, Colm laughed. Laughed, and her shame fell away to anger as she stared at him and his grin.

“As well you may. I’ve been a bad man!”

She couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Silence!” the man called, and an officer stepped up behind Colm, who was still talking swiftly, “These charges—”

He was cut off by the officer raising the bandanna from his neck to his mouth, tightening it so he couldn’t speak.

“This is not a court where you shall be tried,” the man was continuing, “This is a place where your sentence is to be carried out...”

Ada could hear a small commotion to her left, people moving slightly, but she just assumed more people were joining. Besides, she couldn’t take her eyes off of Colm. Despite his mouth before obstructed, she could tell he was smiling, his eyes twinkling as he gazed out at the angry crowd.

“... and your sentence, Colm O’Driscoll, is that you are to be hanged by the neck until dead...”

Colm was still seemingly smiling, and then his gaze shifted, looking to his right of the crowd.

He paused, staring at something. Ada tried to follow his gaze but all she could see was hats and heads, so her attention darted back to him. The smile was gone. An officer was now fitting the noose around his neck.

“... This is not a task we take lightly...”

“Fuck... Oh, fuck...” Thom was hissing, his arms now by his side, and his head whipped round to look behind him.

Ada turned her own head, following his gaze to a building, but she couldn’t understand what he was looking at. Her eyes shifting to him, her lips parted.

Whatever was meant to be happening, wasn’t.

Her head turned, and she looked at Colm.

She realised then, in the same moment he did.

He was going to die.

He really thought he would have escaped once more.

It really had all been bullshit, then. Letting them go, with a silent ‘blessing’. He thought he’d escape, probably would have come after them again, or expected, no, known Thom would have gone back to him. And she probably in tow.

“... it is not a task we enjoy...”

Colm looked up to behind the crowd, and whatever he saw made him freeze. She, in turn, couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

This was going to be it.

“... but it is a task we must carry out if our civilisation is to prosper...”

Colm was shifting from foot to foot now, his eyes darting about wildly. 

“... Gentlemen, are we ready?”

At the man’s words, Colm’s gaze fixed forward once more, and she could see him breathing heavily. 

Thom was shifting at her side and she could hear him breathing hard, too, hissing out curses under his breath, but she knew.

She knew it was no use. Nothing could be done.

“Colm O’Driscoll, may God, in his infinite wisdom, have mercy upon your soul.” The man nodded at an officer. “Whenever you are ready.”

Ada had to remind herself to breathe. Colm’s chest was heaving, fear overwhelming his features.

Then the officer pulled the lever, and the floor beneath Colm opened. Thom stiffened as his uncle dropped, and, with the rope tight around his throat, his neck broke and he died.

Ada stared at the hanging body of her uncle, and felt... relief. That was it. It was finally done—

“... ruined my life!” 

A gunshot erupted in the same moment people screamed, and then, in the blink of an eye, there was pandemonium.

“Die! Die!” A voice was yelling as more bullets were fired, and Ada instinctively reached out to grab Thom’s arm as people ran, feeling his other arm going around her and—

She knew that voice. Her eyes wide, she craned her neck as Thom pulled her backwards, making her feet move, people running in every direction, and then she saw her.

Sadie Adler, in a yellow dress and hat with huge feathers in it, shooting her gun and screaming, the two O’Driscoll boys dead at her feet... and Dutch van der Linde was yanking her backwards, dressed in an officer’s uniform, brandishing his own gun. She and Thom froze in the same moment, staring at them.

More shots were being fired and not just from Sadie; more O’Driscolls had appeared, much more than there had been in the bar, and they were in every direction. She was about to call out to Sadie when Thom surged past her, his gun in his hand.

Heading for Sadie.

Lunging forward, Ada grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as she could, trying to drag him behind a wall for cover.

“Thom, wait, stop, don’t, I know her—”

The speed with which he suddenly turned round to face her nearly knocked her off her feet, his hand tightly gripping her arm and pushing her against the wall.

“What?”

He was hurting her, making her hiss out a breath, but time was precious. Staring up at him, she implored, “Please don’t, she’s a friend!”

“From Dutch’s gang?” He was having to raise his voice due to the incessant gunfire, but anger also laced his tone.

“She’s not really loyal to him!”

“Doesn’t seem that way.”

Ada swallowed hard, his grip still tight. “Believe me, she isn’t, she just wants... because of Colm her husband died and she lost her farm!”

Thom raised his eyebrows slightly, his jaw moving. “This was her revenge?”

“Yes.”

“And why haven’t you taken revenge against Dutch?”

She stilled, staring at him. “... What?”

Thom stared at her, shaking his head. “He killed Da, Ada. How long have you been with him?”

“I’m not with him—”

“No, you’re just in love with his adopted son and have followed his orders for the last few months.”

“I didn’t have a choice—”

He shook her, silencing her. “Yes, you did. You did.”

It was then she realised.

He was disappointed. Angry at her. Probably had been since he’d found out she was with the Van der Linde Gang willingly, the euphoria of their reunion having kept him quiet.

She just stared at him, her stomach twisting, feeling sick. And he was silent, too, not allowing her to leave this accusation unanswered. Her mouth moving, her chin trembling, actually, she couldn’t bear the betrayal in his eyes, Ada didn’t know what to say.

A man suddenly slammed into the wall behind Thom, grabbing his shoulder.

“Thom, what the fuck are you still doing here?!” Dorian yelled above the noise. “Come on, they’re blocking off the streets, we gotta go!”

Thom nodded even as he kept his eyes on her, and then, finally, he released her, straightening and looking across the street.

“All right, our horses are back there on the road out of town, get the boys and we’ll meet at Little Creek!”

“All right!”

Thom watched Dorian race across the street before he took her hand and started pulling her along, heading for where they’d left their horses.

But she yanked her hand out of his grip, the surprise of it not giving him a chance to tighten it.

Stopping, he turned to her and she swallowed hard.

“Come on, Ada.”

She could only shake her head.

His jaw moved. “Ada, come on. This is a choice you’re making.”

She licked her dry lips, her voice quiet, devastated. “I can’t go with you, Thom.”

Her brother stared at her, some of the hardness to his features melting away and it broke her heart.

And then he lunged forward. She gasped as he stooped, wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up onto his shoulder in one swift movement, his hat falling from his head.

“Put me down!” she yelled, trying to struggle but his grip was tight and he was already moving, striding across the street.

“I’m not losin’ you again, Ada,” he hissed, and, with his gun still in his other hand, he suddenly shot at something she couldn’t see, making her stiffen.

He was moving so quickly, jostling her, that she barely had time to get to grips with her surroundings. He was moving away from where the horses were, heading down an alley way, and all she could do was grip at the back of his shirt.

“Billy! Dan!”

“Thom!” A man called, and then she was swiftly set down on her feet, stumbling slightly at the suddenness.

Thom gripped her shoulder, though, and turned her, and she came face to face with two men, possibly barely older than she was. Thom shoved her towards them, one of the men instinctively grabbing her arm to steady her.

“You two, stay here, keep her safe. I’m gonna get the boys and the horses.”

“Sure thing, Thom, don’t worry about it.”

Thom didn’t even glance at her as he turned and strode away, darting out of the alley way and out of sight. Swallowing hard, she pulled her arm out of the man’s grip but he didn’t say anything, just moving past her and standing guard, staring down the direction of the alley way Thom had gone.

Ada realised she was trembling slightly, her breathing shaking. It was just because she’d been caught off guard, she told herself.

The other man had his back to her, too, looking towards a courtyard with his gun raised. 

Do something, do something, do something...

She couldn’t stay here. She had to take this chance. Shots were coming from seemingly every part of the town, but she could get away and hide, officers would think she was a normal citizen, and if Sadie and Dutch were still here, she could find them, she knew she could... But how to get away.

She shifted her stance as she swallowed... and felt the knife in her boot knock against her leg. She paused, glancing at both men. They still had their backs to her, obeying their orders of keeping guard. As quietly and carefully as possible, she leaned down, her hand going into her boot. Withdrawing the knife, she straightened and unsheathed it.

She knew she’d have to be quick.

Licking her lips, she turned to the man facing the street. Moving slowly, gripping the knife tightly, she neared him, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Don’t think about it, just do it.

She lunged.

Driving the knife into his back, as he yelled and his legs gave out in shock, her other hand darted out and grabbed his gun. Turning swiftly, she aimed at the other man who had spun round and pulled the trigger. He cried out as he was knocked backwards, falling to the floor. Returning her attention to the man she stabbed, she aimed the gun at his back and fired again, making him splutter and fall forwards. 

Go, go, go, go, go...

Pulling the knife out of his back, still bloody she swiftly sheathed it and pushed it back into her boot before she was running down the alley way towards the courtyard. The other man had already died, his blood spreading across the cobblestones. She just glanced at him as she passed, sprinting away.

Crossing the courtyard, she was relieved to find it empty, people having fled the scene or hiding in their homes. Moving up a couple of stairs, she darted across a smaller courtyard and turned down an alley way—

She slammed into something solid.

Crying out, her eyes widened as she tried to jerk backwards, but hands gripped her biceps and she gritted her teeth and—

Arthur, dressed in an officer’s uniform, stared down at her.

All the breath left her body as her lips parted.

“Oh my God...”

Then his arms were around her in a tight embrace, practically lifting her off the ground, and hers wrapped around his neck, her eyes closing tightly.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...” she breathed over and over, before she was pulling her head back and cupping his face with her free hand.

He was already talking, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Where the hell have you been, woman? Huh?”

Tears were pricking at her eyes as she exhaled a thick laugh. “Oh, you know, around.”

“Don’t you give me that fuckin’ smart mouth now, I swear to God...”

She laughed again, but the sound was swiftly stolen by his lips claiming hers. She gripped the back of his neck, kissing him fiercely. It was several moments before they finally parted and he placed her back on the ground, his eyes shining.

Ada swallowed as her fingers caressed his cheek. He was alive and well, not a bruise or a cut on him. Her eyes then widened as she inhaled a breath.

“John—”

“He’s fine, he’s fine, we got him, don’t worry,” he assured her quickly, his hands resting on her waist, and relief flooded through her.

“Oh, thank God...” Her smile returned as she gazed at him, and neither of them really knew what to say, even though a thousand questions ran through their minds.

But as a gun fired somewhere close by, her smile faded, and she suddenly realised what had to be done.

Glancing over his shoulder, she then held his gaze, licking her lips and lowering her voice. “Arthur, you have leave.”

He blinked as his brow dipped. “What?”

“I found Thomas—”

“What?”

“He’s alive, and I just...” She shook her head a few times as she gazed at him. “... I want us to leave the gang, I want us out of all of this.”

A quiet sigh left him. “It ain’t the righ’ time—”

“When will it ever be the right time—”

“Soon,” he silenced her gently, his fingers caressing her waist. He lowered his voice a little more as he continued, “Abigail thinks she knows where Dutch is keepin’ all the money.”

Her lips parted as hope started to build within her. “Really?”

Arthur nodded, shrugging a shoulder. “Trelawney’s gone, other people seem like they’re ready to at any moment. People ain’t happy.” Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek. “I want John, Jack and Abigail out of this, us, too, but it ain’t the righ’ time just yet.”

Her hand settled on his arm, squeezing gently, her gaze searching his. “Do you mean that? Do you really want to leave?”

A corner of his mouth lifted as his features softened. “Yeah, I do.”

A rush of breath left her as she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, her eyes closing.

He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave, he wanted to leave...

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as his arm wrapped around her and she couldn’t believe he was here—

Another gunshot, sounding closer, brought her back to reality. Pulling back, she gripped his arm.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?”

She shook her head. “Thom’s not... I have to stay with him, for a little while.”

His brow was dipping again. “Sweetheart—”

This was going to kill her.

“Please, Arthur,” she begged him gently. “I’m afraid he’s going to do something terrible, something to you probably, and the gang. They have a main camp, he said, in West Elizabeth, near Little Creek River, they said they’re going to go there, all right, to regroup.”

He was nodding. “All right, I’ll come for you.”

Ada shook her head as she squeezed his arm lightly. “Don’t... don’t make it a priority.”

He nearly looked devastated. “What? Are you serious—”

“Thom won’t just let me go, Arthur, not without a fight, if I can get some time with him and talk to him—”

  “Ada?”

She stiffened at Thom’s voice, calling for her from what sounded like the alley way he’d left her in.

Arthur opened his mouth but she murmured swiftly, “I have to go, Arthur, please understand.”

She didn’t give him a chance to give his answer, her hand cupping his face as she rose up on her toes and pressed a fierce, firm kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” she whispered, and then she was turning and striding away, unable to look back at him.

If she had, his expression would have broken her heart.

She moved swiftly down the stairs, crossing the courtyard once more.

“Ada!”

“I’m here, Thom.”

Swallowing hard, she slowed as she neared the alley way, finding Thom, Zach and Dorian stood in it, staring down at the bodies of Billy and Dan. Her brother arched an eyebrow as he gestured at them with his gun.

“What the hell happened?”

She licked her lips as she shrugged a shoulder. “They tried to touch me.”

He looked at her, then down at the bodies. Running his tongue along his teeth, he nodded once and held a hand out to her. “We’ll leave the bastards here. Come on.”

She went towards him, and he took the gun from her hand once she was within reach, holstering it, and then grabbed her hand. He followed Dorian out of the alley way, pulling her along, Zach behind her, and then they were darting across the street towards a small group of horses. There were other O’Driscoll men around them, firing at officers who were trying to approach. Thom just continued on, and when they were at the horses and he released her hand, she was about to move to the dapple she’d previously been riding as Thom mounted his horse, when he held a hand out to her.

Looking up at him, she frowned. “What—”

Hands gripped her waist and she was lifted onto the horse behind him. Inhaling sharply at the sudden movement, once she was seated her head turned and she found Zach pulling his hands away from her, expressionless as always.

As he mounted his own horse, she had to quickly grab at Thom’s shirt as he urged his horse forward, keeping his gun gripped in his hand, the reins in the other. The small group of them galloped out of Saint Denis, Dorian, on her dapple, to their left, Zach to their right, and a few other men behind them.

They left behind the echoing sounds of gunfire, though there seemed to be less than before. Gripping Tom’s shirt, she pressed her lips together as she tried not to think about Arthur and where he was.

Thom didn’t speak until they were out of Lemoyne, finally slowing the horse a little.

“We’ll go to Little Creek, far away from this shit hole.”

She just couldn’t help but flinch slightly every time he swore. She’d had the memory of a sweet young boy in her head for far too long.

That boy was gone.

—

Comments and reblogs make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Questions?

Tagged: @belfry-bat​​​​​​​​​​​​​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​​​​​​​​​, @ntlmundy​

[fyrapartnersearch]

Calling for dedicated roleplayers with a passion for writing

Hello! My name is Aaliyah or Ally for short, and I will cut right to the chase. I am looking for a mature role-player, preferably 21+ but will also accept 18+ (just to be sure that you are of legal age, otherwise it’ll be very uncomfortable).



As I am 26 years of age with 12 years of experience, I hope to meet someone who shares my passion in creative writing, as well as formulating interesting plots and characters. 

In case you are curious about me as a person, I am a full-time student and a young writer who works at the gym on the side, but also enjoys other creative outlets such as drawing. Usually my schedule is fairly full, including the attendance of friends or family. However I always have ample time for a good roleplay. :) 



I am seeking a literate writer who is committed to a long-term partnership, and by that I truly mean it. Please do not respond if you are uncertain of upholding a stable roleplay. Furthermore, I’ve noticed the “ghosting after the first few messages“ trope is a fairly widespread issue in the roleplaying scene / community. I would like to implore you from refraining it. I’ve grown quite irritated by it lately and rather like to avoid it in the near future. That way we don’t waste anyone’s time. Thank you in advance. If you are hitting a hiatus, that’s completely fine! A simple message of putting things on hold is completely sufficient, but I would like to keep in touch in case the story bears great potential. Now I have a wish, or as other say it, a certain craving for something new and fresh. And that something is quite specific, as my interests are a little unorthodox. Not the typical ‘Marvel, DC, My Hero Academia, etc’ type of stick. (Not to throw shade on them! They are great! Just not my cup of tea at the moment)


I heavily enjoy video-games, tv-shows, comics, films, books, the list goes on. Hopefully I can attract some kindred spirits. 
 I do roleplay both Canon and Original!



So if there’s no luck in finding a fitting Canon based story, we can always switch to original world building. First, I like to list all of my heavy cravings and interests. The ones marked in bold are usually the ones I am very willing to do.



Books:

Harry Potter Next Gen (original character cast)

True Blood

Vampire Hunter D (or Manga / Anime)

Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice

Game of Thrones

Videogames:

Dragon Age (from Origins to current instalment)

Castlevania

Devil May Cry

Infamous series

The Darkness

Smite

Star Wars the Old Republic


Webcomics:

Lore Olympus

Lookism

True Beauty

Comics:

Constantine

Hellboy

Witchblade

The Darkness

X-Men

Films:

Alita Battle Angel

Kingsmen

Vampire Hunter D

TV-Shows live action:

True Blood

The Boys

Vikings

Game of Thrones (Open for discussion. Still haven’t recovered from the season finale however…)

TV-Shows animated:

Hellsing

Castlevania (Netflix adaptation)

Devil May Cry (Anime adaptation)

Demon Slayer (I have only started watching this)

FMA Brotherhood

Jojo’s bizarre adventure

Black lagoon

As for original plots, I am very keen on urban and gothic fantasy, but also mythology as well as horror and crime and action. I have plenty of ideas up my sleeve, some of them quite fleshed out and some of them being concepts in the making. Either way, I would rather have these ideas introduced throughout email or whatever platform we choose to communicate on. Themes for an original story I am most inclined to do are:

Supernatural / Metaphysical (Demons, Angels, Spirits, Monsters, etc.)

Mystery

Crime

Action

Sci-Fi & fantasy (Aliens coming in contact with unsuspecting earthlings during the middle ages / ancient time-periods)

Urban fantasy mixed with high school / college themes (similar to Supernatural with local monsters, creatures, etc)

Now onto the qualities of what my roleplaying partner should have.

What it all entails: What the Partnership should be: I strongly encourage an active roleplayer who is not afraid of sharing 50% of ideas, plotting, length, detail but most important of all, passion. A bird cannot fly with only one wing. Communication: I love making new friends and brainstorming, and communication is the bedrock of it all. It strengthens our compatibility and the story. Should there be anything that might bother you, or if you think you are left out in some type of way (be it a mistake on my part or if we’re both at fault here), simply tell me. It really doesn’t bother me rewriting certain scenes to better fit the narrative. We can always exchange opinions and see what would benefit the story most. The Way of Writing: No one-liners. No text-talk. No half-assed replies. And certainly no ‘quality over quantity’ when you can have both. I don’t expect anyone to write a novel, absolutely not. I don’t either, but if I get the feeling of my partner wavering in their effort and not investing as much as I do, I have to give them the chop, unfortunately. Too often have I encountered partners who showed strong enthusiasm at first, but after a while… they slacked and eventually only put the adequate effort into their side of things whilst completely disregarding my characters. I hope to avoid this in the future. And now to myself and how I write: My writing: Third person perspective usually, although I have made some exceptions in my years of writing. My style is wide-ranging and flexible, which means that frequently, word count will go up 1000+ per reply - though it also depends on the given situation and partner. And yes, I do double, preferably even, most likely in a canon universe. However this again wholly depends on the type of story, partner and cast of characters. I am very open and willing to discuss.


Rating: So you are writing with some of mature age. I have 12 years of writing under my belt. There will be violence, there will be swearing, gore, intimacy, uncomfortable topics, drama, conflict and other dark themes included when you are writing with me. I have few limits but I will respect the boundaries of my partner. And lastly, I won’t fade to black or skip out on the nitty gritty, unless it doesn’t serve a particular purpose in forwarding the story.

Characters: I write canon as well as OC characters. Faceclaims, GIFs, drawings, mood boards or just a plain physical description is absolutely sufficient. Characters should be written as opulent, flawed, unique, talented, heroic, villainous, spiteful, angry, and everything in-between. In other words, don’t be scared of making them flawed.

Romance: Openly play and accept characters of both genders, preferable m x f pairings, but I am open to m x m and f x f relationships as well. I have more experience with m x f relationships, so I might be more adaptable with this one. If the chemistry of two characters compel me, I’m on board with it! When it comes to sexual scenarios and intimacy (intercourse, foreplay, all that funny business). I encourage eroticism, but always in a tasteful, sensual manner (that goes for romance as well), though it is never the main focus of any of my stories, rather a tool to further the plot. Erotica is welcome but never the focus of any kind of roleplay. Content: Drama, violence, sex, metamorphosis, symbolism, action, romance, pretty much everything is a-okay. I am not explicitly bothered by certain subjects that may be uncomfortable for the general public. Roleplays are fictional stories and we best keep treating them as such. If there are things you are uncomfortable with, name them and I shall respect those boundaries. But don’t be surprised when suddenly one of our characters bites the dust, or gets tortured, etc. It may be difficult to write and read, but it is all part of the story and a tool for furthering the plot. My roleplays imply and involve brutality, mayhem, psychological and physical altercations among other things. But I also endorse beauty, serenity and placid moments for our characters to grow in. I love it when it comes full circle… everyone- and everything has a beautiful and hideous side. Again, this is mature and I am not here to coddle, I am here for a challenge. Should I hit a hiatus myself, I will inform you as soon as possible. :)



Platforms I usually roleplay on are email and google-docs. I also have Discord in case for plotting and chatting outside of the RP. Though Google Hangouts has proven itself as a sufficient chat-medium for such things, so I rather stay with that one. 



When you message me, please use the given codenames so I know what you like to specify in.

Blue Rose: Canon 


Red Feather: Original 




I’d be happy to receive a small description of yourself and what your passions are! :) Message me here: EMAIL: aylosreverie@gmail.com I am very excited to hear from you! Sincerely yours -Ally

[succorcreek]

Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides? Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides? I have a personal rule: Rule 1 I always build people up encourage them and show interest and respect. If I can't follow that rule I withdraw. I've written a lot in many books about encouraging and respecting others. When we do this we model it for the other and we also send a message to our self of that we encourage and respect our self. But I've gained another rule that helped counter too many personal naive applications of that rule where I was taken advantage of by people and their "personal psychopathic and identified group cultures" Rule 2: NEVER respect psychopathy in it's mild and severe forms. Speak up when you can if it's safe for you and there might be some benefit. But psychopaths generally do not want to hear and often can't comprehend what you say. But if it says "No you cannot slap your child in Walmart" I'll jump in. I jump in in all situations I can where some abuse or bullying occurs. Now that doesn't fully fill my needs to respond. On any trip to Walmart I battle my own inner Child Abuse and Neglect Radar System that is able to detect this way too well. I can see the children: living a life of being "heard and not seen" sick and my gawd children slapped pulled smacked pushed shoved into carts jossled shaken ignored crying in low moans called names and denigrated and called names not just swear word type names but names that cut to the soul: useless awful waste of my time worse than a dog animal and other name some children are acting out from neglect: talking incessantly crying for need of attention and grabbing merchandise or touching the don't touch items just to buy a stare of attention from their parents or a passerby most though are seen and just languishing in life Jostled and shoved they'll have brain damage that will cause all the problems of head injury shaken baby syndrome and PTSD (see these sections in http://bit.ly/2z9El1L for recent research on these) and worst of all at least once a week I'll see one child connected to what seems the happiest of families with multiple bruises on head and arms. I pull myself back from a confrontation there but if I figure out how I can confront not create a store mess for the store and not get kicked out of the store...I will. link to our Roy Cohn video or watch here:Series of psychopathy articles including a series on Roy Cohn hater psychopath homophobic homosexual I feel a bit like the old movie The Sixth Sense. I don't see ghosts but I see the soul ghosts of these children: their souls are leaving their bodies from the pain and some are now soul ghost-less. It is painful but I feel one grain of sand the pain these children feel or the damage they'll have in their entire lifetimes from this abuse and neglect. There are the kids that don't show these signs. They're clean attended to show they've been to doctors and don't have ongoing illness and are addressed by their parents almost as "little adults". That "little adults" is how I have always treated children. These children help their parents are included in food decisions are having fun most times and have a parent who explores life with them: "Mom should we look for your puffy tshirt craft paint today?" "Dad will you look at the Matchbox cars with me. I'm glad you're helping me build my collection of them." "Mommy why don't you want to get that bib for the baby with the long string on it?" "Mom we can't afford the baseball bat this month. Could we look them over now and maybe get a new baseball for under $3?" There are questions answers interchanges curiosities inclusions and exploring the realities of life: "Cynthia that bib with the long strings could get wrapped around the baby even the neck. Do you know what that could cause? Oh yes you found an alternative there. It has a button. Good job finding alternatives. Let's examine this one too and learn to problem solve today. What might happen to that button on the bib? What if the button falls off or is pulled off and baby puts it in his mouth? Let's keep exploring types of bibs Cynthia." Eventually a trip to the store becomes learning about dangers of clothing with strings and buttons and the two decide to buy the one with velcro-like connectors. But learning and relating doesn't end there: "And let's explore other ideas. Maybe we could make bibs out of other fun and odd connectors and all those micro-fiber dish rags we got at the Home Show." There are the kids that don't show these signs. There are well treated children who if they get a head injury or bruise it comes from the playground. There are also good parents and kind individuals everywhere. Now one side bar to this and my own Sixth Sense trips into the stores: future psychopathic children. A good movie about this demonstrated briefly is in the movie Citizen Cohn a true story about Judge Roy Cohen a cruel American and spiritual mentor of Donald Trump. One scene shows him mentally abusing his father and a waiter while protecting his mother. Cohn like so many psychopathic children (as children diagnosed as having oppositional defiant disorder or teen anti-social behavior which seems just a diagnosis "understatement of the real disorder": psychopathy) These psychopathic children are not to be seen in Walmart suffering because they: don't want closeness emotional or physical even as children have a feeling of superiority over them have innate street smarts and cunning live in a different world of judgments and not learning or problem solving as others feel pained having to tolerate parents or siblings may have a plan to get what they want in the store whether that is devious well targetted or cruel toward parents or siblings are manipulative and self centered: "I need that Zinger Titanium Baseball Bat or Bloody Teacher Game today so bad because.... "Judy always gets your attention and I get nothing" "You want me to have those cleats because our soccer team is best" It seems psychopathic boys follow the patterns described in the chapter / posts on Forgiveness: they just get better. I think that girls demonstrate a lot of narcissism as children but 80% really learn to socialize with harsh realities of life college or having a baby at age 18 and on. Other girls do though go on to be life time narcissists and a very rare few perhaps 1% become those psychopathic women: Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde and the serial killers or co-criminals of male criminals Anne Coulter pundit Betsy Devoss unraveller of our beloved public school system and promoter of lessened ability to report rapes by University victims (both women and men can be rape victims which is a crime of violence and mental deviation not sex or intimacy) Sarah Palin But when does all this from the psychopaths trickle down to the populace? When is a "culture" or geographic culture created where there are the traits of the psychopath? When do people around us begin act out on: loss of compassion self serving abuse of others authoritarianism ruining of lives and it's ok to be this way because it's modeled by political leaders including Donald Trump Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides and how does this demonstrate the development of a culture of psychophath traits? It's my own state of Idaho: USA Child Brides Video and Article at BBC or view here: In it's mild forms people fall in line and act like their neighbors. Psychopaths Pirates Vampires and more: Run flee tell others! 300 topics on this listed below in the Cloud Archive: Click Here: Catalog of 100 Books Kindle Hypnosis Binaural Subliminal CDs #carterpagememe child brides cult of white authoritarianism culture of narcissism and psychopathy idaho psychopath lack of compassion psychopathic nation #trumpbully #stopbully #trumpmentalhealth http://bit.ly/2rZ1vSp

Where is the USA Cen

[succorcreek]

Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides?

Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides? I have a personal rule: Rule 1 I always build people up, encourage them, and show interest and respect. If I can't follow that rule, I withdraw. I've written a lot in many books about encouraging and respecting others. When we do this, we model it for the other, and we also send a message to our self of that we encourage and respect our self. But, I've gained another rule that helped counter too many personal naive applications of that rule where I was taken advantage of by people and their "personal psychopathic and identified group cultures" Rule 2: NEVER respect psychopathy in it's mild and severe forms. Speak up when you can if it's safe for you and there might be some benefit. But, psychopaths generally do not want to hear and often can't comprehend what you say. But, if it says, "No you cannot slap your child in Walmart", I'll jump in. I jump in in all situations I can where some abuse or bullying occurs. Now, that doesn't fully fill my needs to respond. On any trip to Walmart, I battle my own inner Child Abuse and Neglect Radar System, that is able to detect this way too well. I can see the children:

living a life of being "heard and not seen"

sick

and my gawd, children slapped, pulled, smacked, pushed, shoved into carts, jossled, shaken

ignored, crying in low moans

called names and denigrated and called names, not just swear word type names, but names that cut to the soul: useless, awful, waste of my time, worse than a dog, animal, and other name

some children are acting out from neglect: talking incessantly, crying for need of attention, and grabbing merchandise or touching the don't touch items just to buy a stare of attention from their parents or a passerby

    most, though, are seen and just languishing in life

  Jostled and shoved, they'll have brain damage that will cause all the problems of head injury, shaken baby syndrome, and PTSD (see these sections in http://bit.ly/2z9El1L for recent research on these)

and worst of all, at least once a week I'll see one child connected to what seems the happiest of families with multiple bruises on head and arms. I pull myself back from a confrontation there, but if I figure out how I can confront, not create a store mess for the store, and not get kicked out of the store...I will.

 link to our Roy Cohn video  

or watch here:

Series of psychopathy articles, including a series on Roy Cohn, hater, psychopath, homophobic homosexual I feel a bit like the old movie, The Sixth Sense. I don't see ghosts, but I see the soul ghosts of these children: their souls are leaving their bodies from the pain, and some are now soul ghost-less. It is painful, but I feel one grain of sand the pain these children feel or the damage they'll have in their entire lifetimes from this abuse and neglect. There are the kids that don't show these signs. They're clean, attended to, show they've been to doctors and don't have ongoing illness, and are addressed by their parents almost as "little adults". That "little adults" is how I have always treated children. These children help their parents, are included in food decisions, are having fun most times, and have a parent who explores life with them:

"Mom, should we look for your puffy tshirt craft paint today?"

"Dad, will you look at the Matchbox cars with me. I'm glad you're helping me build my collection of them."

"Mommy, why don't you want to get that bib for the baby with the long string on it?"

"Mom, we can't afford the baseball bat this month. Could we look them over now and maybe get a new baseball for under $3?"

There are questions, answers, interchanges, curiosities, inclusions, and exploring the realities of life: "Cynthia, that bib with the long strings could get wrapped around the baby, even the neck. Do you know what that could cause? Oh, yes, you found an alternative there. It has a button. Good job finding alternatives. Let's examine this one too and learn to problem solve today. What might happen to that button on the bib? What if the button falls off or is pulled off and baby puts it in his mouth? Let's keep exploring types of bibs Cynthia." Eventually, a trip to the store becomes learning about dangers of clothing with strings and buttons, and the two decide to buy the one with velcro-like connectors. But, learning and relating doesn't end there: "And, let's explore other ideas. Maybe we could make bibs out of other fun and odd connectors and all those micro-fiber dish rags we got at the Home Show." There are the kids that don't show these signs. There are well treated children who if they get a head injury or bruise it comes from the playground. There are also good parents and kind individuals everywhere. Now, one side bar to this and my own Sixth Sense trips into the stores: future psychopathic children. A good movie about this demonstrated briefly is in the movie Citizen Cohn, a true story about Judge Roy Cohen, a cruel American and spiritual mentor of Donald Trump. One scene shows him mentally abusing his father and a waiter while protecting his mother. Cohn, like so many psychopathic children (as children diagnosed as having oppositional defiant disorder or teen anti-social behavior, which seems just a diagnosis "understatement of the real disorder": psychopathy) These psychopathic children are not to be seen in Walmart suffering because they:

don't want closeness, emotional or physical

even as children have a feeling of superiority over them

have innate street smarts and cunning

live in a different world of judgments and not learning or problem solving as others

feel pained having to tolerate parents or siblings

may have a plan to get what they want in the store, whether that is devious, well targetted, or cruel toward parents or siblings

are manipulative and self centered: "I need that Zinger Titanium Baseball Bat or Bloody Teacher Game today so bad, because....

"Judy always gets your attention, and I get nothing"

"You want me to have those cleats because our soccer team is best"

It seems psychopathic boys follow the patterns described in the chapter / posts on Forgiveness: they just get better. I think that girls demonstrate a lot of narcissism as children, but 80% really learn to socialize with harsh realities of life, college, or having a baby at age 18 and on. Other girls do though go on to be life time narcissists and a very rare few, perhaps 1% become those psychopathic women:

Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde, and the serial killers or co-criminals of male criminals

Anne Coulter, pundit

Betsy Devoss, unraveller of our beloved public school system and promoter of lessened ability to report rapes by University victims (both women and men can be rape victims, which is a crime of violence and mental deviation, not sex or intimacy)

Sarah Palin

But, when does all this from the psychopaths trickle down to the populace?  When is a "culture" or geographic culture created where there are the traits of the psychopath? When do people around us begin act out on:

loss of compassion

self serving

abuse of others

authoritarianism

ruining of lives

and it's ok to be this way because it's modeled by political leaders, including Donald Trump

Where is the USA Center of Forced Child Brides and how does this demonstrate the development of a culture of psychophath traits? It's my own state of Idaho:

USA Child Brides Video and Article at BBC or, view here:

In it's mild forms, people fall in line and act like their neighbors.

Psychopaths, Pirates, Vampires, and more:

Run, flee, tell others! 300 topics on this listed below in the Cloud Archive:

Click Here: Catalog of 100 Books, Kindle, Hypnosis Binaural Subliminal CDs

via Blogger http://bit.ly/2z2qpEA #trumppirate #trumpgangster