#thiefhand

[raincrowstudios-official]

Hand of Glory

In Medieval Europe, thieves were punished by having their hand cut off in a public setting or cut off after they were hung. People believed a thief's amputated hand was a relic, often making it into a candle and calling it a "Hand of Glory." It was said to have the power to open any locked door.

[troubledgunslinger]

My Tumblr Crushes:

tenaciouswidow

thiefhand

the-1890s-runaway

morgan-arthur

hoovesmadeofsteel

nothingcivilized

crene-brooke

justanaverageoc

reddeadredemptiontrash

[troubledgunslinger]

thiefhand replied to your post: thiefhand replied to your photoset : ...

im gonna cry wtf

// Happy tears I hope?! :) Keep up the good work on Lucky. We are all truly lucky to have you both gracing our dashes.

[dxcface]

22 - a protective hug

give dottie hugs! (ALWAYS ACCEPTING)

      GUNFIRE raged outside the small saloon as the two children--aged thirteen and fifteen--huddled behind the bar. DOTTIE didn’t know who was shooting at them. the list of suspects was so long and she figured there were probably some she missed. DOROTHY and a newer addition to the group who called himself LUCKY had been left in the saloon while the rest went outside to have their showdown. tears were streaming down her face as the older boy had put an arm around her, pulling her closer to him.      “ can...can you tell who’s winning? “ she asked, hoping talking would keep her from breaking down in tears in front of the new boy.

[dxcface]

8 - the hug that comes after a bad dream

give dottie some hugs! (ALWAYS ACCEPTING)

      it had been weeks since the gang fell to pieces.      weeks since JOHN went missing.      weeks since ARTHUR passed.      weeks since the man who raised her looked her in the face and pointed a gun at her.       though she and LUCKY lived together and were each other’s almost constant company, DOTTIE never felt more alone in her life. everything she’d ever known crumbled and burned, and it tore her apart inside. not wanting to burden her remaining friend with such darkness, DOT hadn’t said a word to LUCKY. they didn’t talk about what happened. it was easier not to. at least, it felt easier.      but it was all she thought about in her waking hours, and sleep offered no relief. she kept seeing it all over again. the nightmare was always the same.                            DARKNESS.            “SEAN’S DEAD.”                            A HEADLESS CORPSE ON HORSEBACK.            “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”                            “ITS KIERAN!”            A DARK, CLOUDY, EMPTY CAMP.                            “WHERE’S HOSEA?”            “YOU AIN’T GONNA MAKE IT IF YOU STAY HERE, DOTTIE.”                            A WOMAN’S SCREAM. SUSAN.            “DON’T TAKE ANOTHER STEP, DOROTHY.”                            “ARE YOU GOING TO SHOOT ME, DUTCH?”            “DOT, WE HAVE TO GO.”---                            ---LUCKY’S PLEAD WITH HER.           “TAKE THIS MONEY AND RUN. RUN AS FAR AS YOU CAN.”                            “PROMISE ME I’LL SEE YOU AGAIN.”            “YOU KNOW I CAN’T DO THAT, DOTTIE.”                            “ARTHUR’S DEAD.”                            “ARTHUR’S DEAD.”                      [ “ A R T H U R ’ S  D E A D . ” ]      and she woke up screaming. she wouldn’t normally, but the dream had looped so many times. every death, every harsh word, every cold feeling on a constant repeat that made the former doctor believe she’d died in her sleep and was in her own hell.      a door opened, revealing LUCKY. he didn’t say a word as he made his way over to her, pulling her to his chest.

      for awhile, DOTTIE didn’t say anything. she just cried. she cried for what felt like hours until finally she was just reduced to whimpers. finally, she found her voice.      “ i’m sorry if i woke you, “ she choked out, lips still trembling as she hugged her companion tighter, “ i just...i’m having trouble. a lot of trouble. “

[dxcface]

-stares at inbox-

I need more hugging icons.

[dxcface]

❝ I can’t lose you too. ❞

angst memes (accepting)

       the gang was falling apart, and it was falling apart fast. ARTHUR was at death’s door, JOHN was gone, HOSEA and so many others were dead and DUTCH…     oh, DUTCH.     he was losing it. for over ten years, DOROTHY had been loyal as a bulldog to the gang. they raised her, protected her, taught her. gave her a purpose. she should have known this found family wouldn’t last forever. ARTHUR had told her to run as soon as night fell. she couldn’t protest. there was no more to do. DUTCH was too far gone, and MICAH…christ, he got worse with every day. she felt like there was a target on her back with him around, especially when he and DUTCH were speaking in their hushed tones.      she’d been packing her things onto LAVENDER in the darkness of the night, a few yards away from camp. her pulse was racing as she scrambled to keep quiet and not get caught. god, who knew what would happen if anyone caught her. part of her wanted to doubt DUTCH would hurt her but…MOLLY. god, poor MOLLY.       her hands were shaking as she clipped everything to the great beast’s saddle, and she nearly screamed when she suddenly heard the voice of LUCKY. they’d gone back and forth, her justifying why she had to leave–it wasn’t safe, the PINKERTONS would find them, ARTHUR was dying and she couldn’t watch that happen–and him begging her to stay. stay with him.      i can’t lose you, too!      the words cut DOTTIE to her core. she didn’t want to lose LUCKY, either.      “ then come with me. we can get a plot of land or an apartment. leave this madness behind. we can do it, you and me. “

[dxcface]

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm .

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse---- (accepting)

       dear god DOTTIE hated it in the midwest. the weather changed at the drop of a hat, which either meant freezing to death or heatstroke, depending on the day. this day, for example, had started out being incredibly warm. HOT, even. as the day progressed, however, the temperature DROPPED rapidly, leaving DOTTIE shivering in her saddle on their way back from TOWN. she had made a comment about how miserable it was, prompting LUCKY to give her a spare sweater he’d had in his saddle bag. the garment practically SWALLOWED her, but that just added to the coziness of it.        “ thank you, LUCKY. “ she said, the cold still on her skin making thinking of a witty remark impossible.