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sweetberrysmooch · 4 years ago

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HC: And There Was Only One Bed (Affectionate) [pt. 1]

(Zzzzzzz.....)

(This is unfortunately gonna have to be in several parts, mainly so I can get something out to you guys while still being able to work on the rest ^^)

Basic sleeping hcs with ya boys, and sort of... smell hcs? Idk, I got into a mood and couldn’t stop writing about smells so here it goes lol.

Characters: Dream, Techno, Wilbur.

Warnings: There’s mentions of nightmares in Dream’s and a emotional breakdown in Wilbur’s, but that’s it.

Song Recommendation: Dream A Little Dream Of Me- The Mamas & Papas.

Up Next- Quackity, George, and Bad. [pt. 2]

Hope you have nice day today <3 Enjoy!

Dream:

Depending on where you’ve fallen asleep, Dream will kind of work with your position before he lets himself relax.

He prefers it when the two of you are in your bed, with him near the closest door and on his back and with you sleeping against his side, arm stretched over his middle. It’s a good way for him to be between any intruders that may come and to still have you close. But no matter where you are, he has to make sure that he can protect you before he lets his guard down.

Another position he likes is when you’re tucked against his chest under his chin, sitting on his lap or curled up together in bed. Being tall with a broad chest means he makes a pretty good pillow, so use those puppies when you can 👀👀

Smells like a forest, most times. Almost like wild honey, but it’s a very delicate smell. You don’t notice it until your first hug, when you were upset and crying and he pulled you to into his arms so you could hide your face. Now you smell it everywhere he is, in your house, on your bed, even your clothes smell like him. Neither of you say anything, but he slowly begins leaving his soap at your house. Just in case, y’know, if you ever run out.

Other times, when he seems a little more... off, he smells like the beginning to a storm, like ozone and petrichor. Those days he doesn’t speak that much, and keeps you at arms length. He sits quietly and watches your doors and windows with obvious intent, and is gone before morning. You don’t think he even moved from his spot throughout the night, much less slept there. You don’t see him for a few days afterwards.

Usually he remains as still as a log, but sometimes he has fidgeting fits where he twitches and grumbles to himself. Sometimes you’ll even catch him speaking full-on sentences, though they don’t make much sense. Mostly normal out of place stuff, but once you heard him talking about someone called DreamXD, and figured you’d ask him about his oc the next morning.

He has nightmares often too. It’s hard to tell when he’s asleep but he’ll wake up sweating and trembling and lean over you to check you’re still breathing. He won’t ever tell you what they’re about, but it isn’t hard to guess when he buries his nose into your hair and holds you tightly like you might leave him.

If the two of you aren’t sleeping in your house or completely alone, he won’t sleep until you are. Sleep loss doesn’t quite affect him like it does others until after a pretty long time of not doing it, to which he’ll become surlier and more angry until he eventually just clocks out. He wakes up extremely well rested 2 days later and the process repeats. Sleeping at your house is the closest he gets to proper sleeping, and it’s the only time he can ever feel truly relaxed when doing so.

When he can’t fall asleep, he goes straight to watching you. He gently plays with your hair and fiddles with your fingers, relishing in how unmarred and soft they are in comparison to his much rougher, bigger ones. It’s a sure fire way to get him to mellow out and relax, and he finds that sleep ends up coming much quicker.

(Dream wakes up in warmth one night, with rain knocking on window panes instead of what ever shelter he could scrape together and a fire crackling far off. He deduces immediately that he’s in someones house, and it doesn’t take long before he notices the owner, asleep in his lap.

Your legs are slung over the arm of the padded chair he’s sitting in, a book (one of his own, he acknowledges, an older version of a well known storybook that he has memorized already) loosely held onto in your hands, and your head rests on his shoulder.

He expects to feel worried soon, the fear of you getting close to him reappearing to ruin another close moment. But it never comes. All he can feel is the safety and comfort you always emanate, driving away his tension and soothing his mind. He closes his eyes, and falls back asleep.)

Techno:

Techno is very very touch starved ^^; While he may not be the only one on this list that is, Techno is definitely the most…. shy about it. He won’t ever directly ask to sleep next to you, and will actively try to avoid that. He’s afraid of making you uncomfortable but also of being close to you in general? It’s an odd mix of emotions, like eating mints and a hot pepper at the same time and then feeling hell fire burn inside of your body. Anytime the two of you have to sleep in the same room as each other, he will immediately offer you the better spot and go find a chair to sleep in, and he won’t accept a no.

The most you can do is make the choice to go sleep next to him. It’ll weird him out a little before becoming overwhelmingly endearing when he processes the fact that you would rather sleep next to him than somewhere more pleasant. When you’re asleep however, he’ll pick you up and move you to the place where he wanted you to be. He’ll drape his massive cape over your body and (after assuring himself six different times that you are in fact asleep) softly press a kiss to the crown of your head. If he runs his thumb over your cheek once, then thats his business.

Later on in your relationship though, after he relaxes and settles a bit, it’s pretty unusual if you don’t fall asleep next to him. He still won’t outright ask for it, but he kinda just hopes that when he starts his nightly routine before bed that you’ll just join him without needing to be asked. Having you there helps him sleep better, you act as both a silencer for the voices and someone to hold close when he’s at his most vulnerable.

When sleeping in bed together, he prefers to pull you close and curl around you in a half pulled fetus position. He’s usually a heavy sleeper, and actively clings on to you when asleep. It's an impressive feat if you can break free from his strong arms while they’re wrapped around your middle, and you leaving inevitably wakes him up. He’ll go searching for you then, barely awake, just to pull you back to bed to be his teddy bear again.

And speaking of the voices, while generally they’re loud and insistent, occupying his mind more than he does at times, their reaction to you baffles him so much. In place of the usual screaming is gentle mumbling, quiet whispers about how nice you look today or how pink and soft your cheeks look. It’s a welcome relief, and no matter how he hard he ignores the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, he’s glad to know they care for you as much as he does.

He also smells pretty nice, it’s this natural musk he has mixed with a muted minty scent. The mint smell comes from this fancy soap Phil had gotten him a while back that he hadn’t given much thought about until you said something. Techno’s already a clean kind of guy, but after hearing your praises of his smell he almost begs Phil to get him more.

Snores, but in a quiet reserved way. Sometimes he makes soft cute noises, like little happy sounds when you snuggle into him more, or bashful grumbles when you kiss him before bed.

(Sunlight flickers through the blinds of Techno’s room, streaking across your face and waking you from sleep. Sighing quietly, you lift your head a little and stretch as best you can while being held in place at his side, before snuggling back into your spot, fully content to stay there for the rest of the morning.

As you enjoy the moment, you savor the gentle snores that rumble in his chest, his strong heart thumping beneath your ear, and the way his hand kneads your hip as he wakes.

‘It’s a good morning to sleep in.’ Your mind says quietly, and with how he rolls over to face you and kiss your forehead, it seems Techno thinks so too.)

Wilbur:

The way Wilbur sleeps really depends on what Wilbur it is.

To start off though, a few general things. He’s a neat sleeper, doesn’t snore, doesn’t move a whole lot, and smells pretty nice too. His smell also came from a fancy soap he got from Phil, but it smelled like sugar and lemons and it was a lot heavier than Techno’s. He would always take showers before bed because he knew you liked how it smelled, and often he would offered to share it with you (so that you would smell like him). Once he was exiled, he didn’t have the liberty of bathing as frequently as he used to, and he stopped using the fancy soap because he thought it felt tainted. He’d end up smelling like stale air and gunpowder, though he’d never tell you what the smell was from.

With sleep, if it’s pre-Pogtopia Wilbur, you get a fairly standard sleeping arrangement of him crawling up into between your legs to flop down on your stomach with a sigh, waiting impatiently for you to get comfortable and curl around him like you usually do. Your hand comes to cradle his head closer to your chest and he nuzzles into your collarbone before falling asleep near immediately. The two of you wake up tangled completely together and immensely comfortable. Wilbur used to sleep in on days like that, quietly savoring the peace that came with you and your generous hands that would slowly brush through his sleep-messed hair. Even after the election, when he starts descending into madness, the memories serve as a final comfort to him.

Post-Pogtopia Wilbur (Vilbur, if you will) is a stark contrast to his old self. He’s more bitter, more reserved, and even more paranoid. He doesn’t sleep with you anymore, at least never consistently, and the only times he does is when he’s so emotionally fraught that he passes out from the stress and lack of sleep midway through you trying to calm him down. You usually end up just kind of holding him close, praying that when he wakes up you can settle him before he works himself up again. You fall asleep like that, tired and restless.

(He rouses from sleep a few hours later, curled up in your arms and still exhausted from the breakdown. Your chest rises and falls slowly behind him, face smushed into his hair and completely relaxed.

For a moment, all is calm again. He can pretend that it’s just how it used to be before the election had happened, that the two of you are back at home, happy and stable.

His hands tremble when they reach for yours, and he grants himself the freedom to cry while you’re still sleeping, ignoring the fact that the next day will be just like the last, and that nothing has changed.)

See you next time :D

#mcyt x reader #c: dream #c: technoblade #c: wilbur #hc: and there was only one bed (affectionate)#dream x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader

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thatssonanii · 4 years ago

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Deja Vú (2)

Florian Munteanu/OC

Its probably pretty awful but it was stuck in my head 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

After two weeks with her nieces their mother had finally picked them up from Angel. She didn't offer an excuse or extend a thank you but Angel wasn't expecting one either. She still checked on them while they were home because she knew her brother would want her to.

After work Angel decided to go to the hookah bar down the street from her house to relax. Her another friends usually went their together but they were all working but she didn't mind going alone.

She looked around the room as she sat in a booth waiting for a waitress. The room was dimly lit which is why she chose to sit at a booth with a small hanging light over it. Moments later, a brown skin girl dressed in black short shorts and a fitted black tee came to her table placing the hookah on it. She put fresh cubes at the top then smiled.

"Here you go. Its jungle juice flavored, love."

Angel looked at her strangely and took the hose from her, "Um ... this isn't mine. I didn't order this."

The waitress smiled. "It was from another customer. He asked me to send it to you."

"Oh no thank you. I'm good."

"Uh, no, I think you should keep it. Its the guy on the couch over there," The waitress explained pointing discreetly in the direction.

Rolling her eyes, Angel looked at who was on the sofa. When she did she spotted the man she had bumped into weeks ago sitting wide legged with the hookah hose in his hand. She smiled and sat back in the booth.

"Can you do me a favor and take it over to sit on his table? I'm gonna sit with him."

The waitress nodded waiting for Angel to get up and follow her. When she got to the table she sat beside him, turning her body sideways so she could look at him.

"Jungle juice?"

He laughed taking a pull from the hose.

"Seemed fitting. It got you here, didn't it?"

"I guess it did," she hummed picking up her own hose, "Why is it fitting?"

"Closest thing to jungle fever, no?"

Angel laughed for the first time in a while. She shook her head taking a pull.

"What do you think?" He asked watchign her facial expressions.

"Minty and fruity. I like it."

He nodded. "I have good taste. Looks like you do as well."

The two sat for another two hours talking about nothing in particular. They'd gone through four refreshers before Angel's phone vibrated on the table. She saw her nieces' picture pop up and answered putting her hand over her other ear.

"What's up, Nyla?" She asked quickly.

"Auntie, come get us, please."

"Why? Whats wrong?"

"Mama not here and her boyfriend got people in the house. They doin drugs, Auntie. I had to lock us in Nia's room."

Angel took a deep breath before answering. "Alright, I'm on my way. Stay in the room till I get there."

When they hung up, Angel looked over and started to call his name realizing she didn't know what it was.

"We've been sitting here and I don't even know you're name."

He leaned in close so she could hear him, "Florian."

She smiled and stuck her hand out to him which he took. His hand swallowed hers. "Well, Florian, I'm Angel."

"Hmm.... Angel? Never thought I'd see on walk the earth." He responded cooly slowly letting her hand fall from his.

"Cute," she laughed, "But I need to go, my nieces need me. "

Florian flagged the waitress down, "Give me a second to pay. I'll go with you."

"You don't gotta do that, Florian. I assume you were just apologizing for bumping me. All is forgiven."

After handing the waitress two hundred dollar bills, he laughed under his breath and stood up. He offered his hand to her which she took.

"Not what I was doing. Sounded like you were upset, I want to make sure all is okay."

Figuring that arguing wouldn't work, Angel followed him outside. He walked her to her car then told her to follow him to his building so he could drop his car off.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your nieces okay?" He asked fifteen minutes into their drive.

"As long as they're in their room, they are."

"Is there a problem where they live?"

Angel nodded turning into the neighborhood. "Yeah, their mama got shit for brains."

Florian laughed at the tone of her voice. He understood the seriousness but to hear her so upset was sort of amusing to him after she'd been so happy and carefree at the bar.

"Something funny?"

"Yeah, the way you said that. You sound pissed."

"Cause I am," she snorted. "Stop making me wanna laugh."

When they pulled up to the house, Angel parked across the street and killed her engine. She saw the cars parked in front of the house and shook her head.

"You mind coming in with me to get them?"

Florian shook his head and started to get out, "Not at all. Come on."

The door was unlocked when they got to the porch so they walked on in. Florian walked closely behind her looking around the small house. Angel went straight to the living room she spotted 6 men and 2 women sitting around it.

"Chanda know you doin this shit in her house, Rod?" Angel asked loudly.

Rod jumped then scoffed when he realized who it was. "Man, gone somewhere with all that. Take ya bougie ass on."

"Yeah, after I get my nieces I will. I don't know why she let your dumbass have a key anyway." Angel fussed turning to leave the living room.

"I don't know why she gave you a key either, bitch. Airways messing shit up."

Angel started to turn around but Florian stopped her telling her to grab her nieces. She knocked softly on the bedroom door then called their names softly promoting them to open the door.

"Come on. We leaving, yall. Yall got what yall need?"

Nyla grabbed both their bookbags then her little sister's hand and walked out the bedroom. Shaking her head, Angel followed them down the short hallway and found Rod pinned against the wall by Florian. She gave Nylah the keys telling her to go get in her sub then rushed to Florian pulling his arm to no avail.

"Let him go. Its okay."

"Its not," he said simply, "Apologize to her."

Rod stuttered out an apology prompting Florian to let him go. Nodding, Angel pulled her new friend out of her sister's house to the suv.

"Girls, this is Florian. Florian, these are my nieces, Nia and Nylah." Angel said pulling off from the house. "We're gonna take him home then get food. Okay?"

Florian turned in his seat to smile at them. "Nice to meet you, girls."

"You our uncle? We never had one and we want one." Nia said smiling.

Angel sucked her teeth, "Nia, hush. That's not your business."

"Correction," Nyla added, "You never had a uncle, Nia. I did. But Auntie said he wasn't shit so he had to go."

"Nyla! Watch your mouth!"

Florian laughed turning back around in his seat, "I like them. They're funny."

"We like you too, Uncle Flo!" Nia squealed. "You come over for dinner?"

"Sure, I'd love too."

Angel side eyed him as she drove, knowing this was another losing argument.

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After picking up some soul food, they all went back to Angel's house to eat. She sent her nieces upstairs to bathe and change before they ate leaving Florian and her in the kitchen. Her phone rung while she fixed their plates, she answered it putting it on speaker.

"What, Chanda?"

"You been to my house?"

Angel sucked her teeth. "You know good and damn well I've been there. What do you want?"

"I want you to stay the hell.outta my house when I'm not there. Every time Nyla lying ass call you, ya bougie ass come runnin. Aint shit happen."

Angel put down the spoon she was holding and stared at her phone. "She didn't say anything happened other than Rod had people over there with drugs so what are you talking about?"

Chanda paused for a second then spoke, "Oh well don't worry about that then. But you heard what I said stop running over here aint shit wrong with them. They just spoiled cause of you."

"My nieces aren't liars and I'm always gon pick them up when they ask. You need to worry about leaving them there with Rod ass." Angel fussed rolling her neck as if Chanda could see her.

Chanda sucked her teeth. "You know what since you think you know everything and you and ya stupid ass brother think you can raise them better than I can then you keep they asses. I aint want them no way, lyin ass lil children."

"Whatver, Chanda. Thats fine, they would rather be here anyway."

Angel hung up the phone without waitng for a response and put her face in her hands trying to calm herself down. Florian, who she'd forgotten about in the midst of the argument, came around the island and wrapped his arms around him to comfort her. He rocked them from side to side letting her cry on his chest.

"So we live here now?" Nia asked softly from the doorway.

Angel pulled away from the hug wiping her face and pushed her hair behind her ears. She went over to both of her nieces, who'd been standing there since the tail end of the conversation.

"Yeah, I guess yall do. Is that okay?" She asked both of them.

Nyla shrugged, "Took long enough. Been tryna move here for months."

Nia hugged her aunt's legs smiling. "I love it here! We get to live with you forever!"

Angel hugged her back laugjing softly, "What about when ya daddy comes back?"

"Then he can come live here!"

Nyla laughed going to sit to the table, "No, Daddy said we getting our own house plus Auntie and Uncle Flo need their space."

Nia pulled away from the hug and ran to the table to her sister.

"Space for what?"

"To make our cousins, duh, Nia."

Angel rolled her eyes playfully when she heard Florian laughing. "Okay, okay, lets eat and stop talking about cousins."

"But I can still be their uncle," Florian asked playfully as he walked over to the table to sit down.

#Deja Vu #florian munteanu #florian munteanu/oc #florian & angel

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zaffrenotes · 5 years ago

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elpída: part i

Book: The Royal Heir, Future Rating/Warnings: PG (language) / Character death(s) will be mentioned Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * OCs are my creation * Set roughly 20 years into the future of the TRH timeline. I was inspired to write this based on an ad I saw last November, and the recent chapters of TRH (prior to the duel/drone debacle) * elpída is the Greek word for “hope” * Word Count: +/- 600

Perma + TRR/TRH Taglist: @annekebbphotography @ao719 @blackcatkita @brightpinkpeppercorn @desireepow-1986 @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality @loveellamae @smalltalk88 @thecordoniandiaries @alj4890 @aworldoffandoms @bascmve01 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @custaroonie @darley1101 @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @iplaydrake @kingliam2019 @lodberg @lovemychoices @missevabean @mskaneko @rainbowsinthestorm @ramseyandrys @superharrietsuper @the-soot-sprite

Tears sting at umber eyes, threatening to ruin the makeup she’s just spent twenty minutes fixing. The sun hangs low in the sky, evident by the coral beams filtering through drapes billowing in a warm summer breeze. All she wants to do is walk through the hedge maze and get lost within its tall green walls, to be surrounded by silence and comforted in her favorite place.

With a deep, calming breath, she closes her eyes and counts to ten, just as she was taught so many years ago. She’s been preparing for this evening for years, but it’s not the one she imagined in her head. Dabbing at the edges of her eyes with a fresh tissue, she stares at the reflection in the mirror, transfixed at her features.

Eyes like her mother’s, nose like her father’s. A smile – rare as it is to be seen – somehow a blend from her parents. Her hair falls in onyx curls, ribbons of black, save for a subtle braided crown – a symbolic nod to her mother’s signature style and to the title she’s about to undertake, like so many of her father’s ancestors.

“I hope you’re using the waterproof mascara, if you’re gonna keep crying like that,” her sister sighs listlessly, flipping through a tattered novel.

“Are you going to help, or just make stupid comments?”

“Why can’t I do both?” she questions back, shutting the book. Her sister is a carbon copy of their mother, with their uncle’s sarcastic tongue. She rises from the bed and twirls her finger in the air in the mirror, prompting the elder sister to turn around. “Teddy, you don’t have to do this, you know,” she says softly. She picks up a makeup brush loaded with powder, tapping it gently under her sister’s eyes.

“Minty,” Teddy sighs back. “Yes I do. It’s what Mama and Daddy would’ve wanted. It’s what they fought for, and I’m old enough to take the Crown for myself.”

There’s a knock at the door that silences the sisters, until the elder one calls in their guest. The women smile softly at the sight of their younger brother, striding in with three glasses of champagne. “Thought you might want a little liquid courage to get you through the evening,” he grins, offering his sisters the bubbling flutes in his hands.

“I’m not sure how I feel about our barely legal brother being the one to offer drinks,” Teddy quips, though she still takes a glass from him.

“Please, I’ve been imbibing for years, and you know it, Teddy,” he answers back, sitting on the edge of the bed. Amynta takes the other glass for herself, setting it on the dresser while she continues working on Teddy’s makeup.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Theíos Drake,” Amynta chides.

“I can’t help it if I’m his favorite,” he shrugs.

“Because you remind him of Daddy,” Amynta replies, sticking out her tongue at him.

They start to bicker; Teddy lets them, to release some of the nervous tension they’re feeling, even though she’s the one worrying about a hundred things. It’s only when they start raising their voices that she puts an end to it. “Minty, Liam, that’s enough,” she says sternly. Her siblings end their arguing. “Shall we toast?”

They raise their glasses together, pausing to think of a reason to toast. “To…being together again, as we should be,” Amynta offers.

“To Mama and Daddy, may they bless us from heaven,” Teddy follows.

“For Cordonia,” Liam adds.

“For Cordonia,” the sisters repeat. They clink glasses, taking long sips from the flutes.

#the royal heir fanfic #TRH fanfic #TRR fanfic #TRH au #the royal heir au #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #liam x mc #tw: death #tw: character death #miniseries fanfic #liam x trina #king liam x trina #zaffrenotes fanfiction #zaffrenotes writes

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zenigata-simp-demon · 4 years ago

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It’s dolly

this is my oc Dolly, aka shrig’s wife and minty and goofball’s mama. plz be nice and don’t send hate cause i ship my oc with shrignold ;-;

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rowenna-887 · 5 years ago

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20 Followers tag

Tagged by @melodyalanaroster!Many thanks for tagging me!

Rules: Tag 20 followers who you want to know better, aND FORCE THEM TO ANSWER THE QUESTIONS OR BE SENTENCED TO DEATH.

Nickname(s): My IRL nickname is Nat.My Oc’s nickname is Ro

Gender: Female

Astrological sign: Aries

Sexuality: Panssexual

Hogwarts house: Slytherin

Favorite animal: wolves,ferrets red pandas,cats,raccoons,guinea pigs.

Number of blankets: 3 blankets on my bed

Where are you from: Brazil, I was born here and I continue to live here

Dream trip: I really wanted to travel to the United States,pro Japan and Russia

When I started this account: I created it with the intention of posting clothes (MCL edits) randomly, in sets or just a piece like: blouse, pants.but after I gave it up and decided to start posting my edits and about my Oc's.

i tag: @morikawahotaruotakuhime @minty-bear @lama-mama

#tag game

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hauntedbyvisionsof-flight · 7 years ago

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It Takes a Village. Or At Least Two Boroughs.

The last installment of Girlsies Week! I know its a day late, and I apologize, but when you see the length I’m sure you’ll understand. Hope you enjoy! This has taken many months to finish up, so I hope you enjoy!

Dedicated to the OC Anon who frequents my blog. You’re the reason I remembered this fic, and therefore the reason it got finished. Rebel, Bird, and Lil’ Bit all thank you for being an instrumental part of their stories being told.

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

Lil’ Bit can’t remember when she became a newsie, but Bird tells her she was no older than four. Bird loves to tell the story of when she went outside to throw out the Saturday evening bathwater and found a tiny girl sitting on the stoop.

“Who are you?” Bird asked.

The girl shrugged. “I’m waitin’ for my mama.”

And that was the sentence that broke Bird’s heart. A few kids had just been left at the lodging house (not many, but a few) and everyone of them was left there under the pretense of their mom running errands.

So Bird threw out the water, grabbed Lil’ Bit’s hand and brought her into the house to introduce her to her new family.

Elmer, who at the time was only six, came up with her name. It was something that his uncle used to call his granddaughter, and Elmer thought the name Lil’ Bit was appropriate. “On account o’ how small she is!” he explained.

Lil’ Bit fit in great. The older girls were her new mamas, the boys her fathers, and all the little ones were her siblings.

“After all,” Bird would remark to the others, “It takes a village to raise a child.”

Usually, Lil’ Bit was the first one awake, but this morning Bird was the one to wake her. SHe instructed her to be quiet with a finger pressed to her lips as she led the sleepy toddler downstairs. Racetrack and Hatter were already waiting, Racetrack laying with his head in his arms on the table and Hatter stirring a large pot of oatmeal.

“Race,” she said. “Wake up, ya bastard.”

“‘M not a bastard,” he slurred. “M’parents was married.”

Bird laughed tiredly as she took two bowls from Hatter and sat them in front of Race and Lil’ Bit. She had crawled into his lap and was blinking slowly from her spot on his chest. The two began sleepily eating as Hatter gave Bird a run-down of what he wanted them to accomplish that day.

“Make sure not to get caught in Brooklyn after dark. Red never took kindly to visitors anyways, and I’m sure that now he feels his territory slipping he won’t like them any more now than he did.” Hatter stood, depositing their bowls in the nearby sink. “Make sure to talk to Arrow, she says our boys have been crossing the lines again.”

Bird nodded, making a mental note of all of it. By the time Hatter had finished his list for the day Race and Lil’ Bit had sufficiently awoken and were bickering playfully. Bird led the way to the washroom and began brushing her teeth and other things to get ready as Race shaved on the other side of the washroom. Lil’ Bit got ready beside her, the two moving in sync like a well-oiled machine.

Then it was hair time, Lil’ Bit’s least favourite part. “Hold still!” Bird exclaimed. “If you can’t sit still, I won’t let you go with me today!”

Lil’ Bit pouted but sat. Wherever Bird went, Lil’ Bit was there, and she refused to be stuck selling with a stinky boy today.

“I don’t have time to re-do it today if it comes out, so we gotta take extra precautions, alright honey?” she muttered to the child. “We don’t wanna make Racetrack have to wait up on us while I fix your hair now do I?”

Lil’ Bit shook her head as Bird finished, placing the slightly too big newsie cap over the top of the girl’s head. Looking up she saw Racer and smiled. “Watch her for a bit, would ya? I gotta find my own cap and fasten it to my head. Wind’s been awful here lately and I don’t wanna lose it.”

Race nodded and picked up the little girl, swinging her up in the air.

“Racer!” she screamed. He laughed and bent to pick her up.

“Are you ready to go?” Race asked. Lil’ Bit nodded vehemently. “So when we leaves the house, that means you hold mine or Birdie’s hand, you got that? We don’t want you gettin’ lost.”

Lil’ Bit nodded solemnly. He looked at her for a moment to drive the point home and then began tickling her mercilessly. She screamed and twisted in his arms, nearly knocking the both of them to the floor. After he was done, Race took his hands from her waist as though to set her down, but she just clung tighter to his neck. Race made over exaggerated choking noises as he pleaded with her to let go.

Bird walked up quietly and smacked Race with her hat. “Be quiet, the rest of the house ain’t up yet!”

He mimed zipping his lips with a grin.

Bird rolled her eyes. “Alright, ragamuffins, let’s get a move on. You know we have to be home in time for the evenin’ edition tomorrow,” she said, fixing her newsies cap over her straight blonde bob. If not for the dress, one could assume she was a boy. She glanced at the two and gave Lil’ Bit a look. “Lil’ Bit, get off Race. If you choke him to death we can’t go out today.”

Lil’ Bit immediately let go and fell a few inches to the floor before scampering over to grab Bird’s hand. The morning bell rang out into the cool morning as the three of them left the house, the older ones with a newsies bag over one shoulder. Lil’ Bit skipped along, singing a song she had no doubt learned from one of the older boys. Bird gave Race a side-eye glance and he looked away guiltily when her song turned into a drinking song.

Their first stop was to the Bronx, to see Socks and Maple. Arrow had sent a little boy over saying some of the ‘Hattan newsies had been encroaching on their territory, and she wanted something done about that. The three of them walked for a while as the city came to life. They beat any other newsies to the street, except for two Harlem boys. They stopped and talked for a minute, but Harlem had no problems. The messengers gave them a gift for some of the other boroughs which Race placed in his bag.

When they reached the Bronx, Bird grabbed Lil’ Bit’s hand to keep her from running off. They had to find exact streets, and it was not a good time to lose her. Bird found the street name and pulled the other two down the alley towards Arrow ’ headquarters. Socks and Maple waited outside.

“Hiya!” Bird waved. Socks glared while Maple gave her a smile and a wave back.

“Racetrack,” Socks acknowledged coldly. The first few times he’d been on scout duty he’d tried to scare her and received a black eye for his troubles. She was still wary around him.

“Socks,” he said, tone full of mirth.

Socks nodded and looked over at Lil’ Bit. “Who’s that?”

Lil’ Bit grinned up at the sisters. “I’m Lil’ Bit!”

“I’m Maple,” Maple introduced, stooping to the child’s level. “That’s my sister, Socks. How old are you?”

Lil’ Bit held up four fingers. “Five!”

Bird laughed. “Another finger, Lil’ Bit.”

But Lil’ Bit was already occupied playing with some sticks and rocks on the ground. Maple and Bird exchanged a few more pleasantries, while Socks glared at Race who kept his perpetual grin on his face the whole time. After the girls were done talking, Maple lead the way in.

Lil’ Bit held Race’s hand the whole way. He picked her up once Arrow appeared in the room at the end of the dark hall. She wasn’t very tall, and she would never hurt a child, but she still managed to intimidate him a bit. Maybe that’s why he was always so quick and harsh with his tongue when around her.

“Manhattan,” she greeted.

“Bronx,” Race and Bird answered. She nodded, and they all took a chair in the circle in the middle of the room. Socks and Maple left, leaving the three (and Lil’ Bit) in an empty room.

“So, what’s going on in the Bronx?” Race asked.

Arrow sighed. “Your damn newsies on our turf again. I don’t know when or how they get over here, but I’se see at least three a day. And I stay pretty central to the area.”

Bird nodded. “Any specific people seem to be showing up a lot?”

Arrow nodded. “Well, there’s Minty, Noodles, Spoons, and Slugger,” she said, counting them off on her fingers. “They’s here almost every day, no matter how many warnings they get. Some of my girls have soaked Minty and Slugger a few times, but they keep coming back.”

Race nodded. “That explains the bruises.”

Arrow raised an eyebrow. “So you knew they were here?”

Race shook his head. “No, I thought they’d just had a run-in with the Delancey’s or had an argument. Thought they was on their own turf.”

Bird sat back and considered. “We’ll have a talk with Hatter, and he’ll probably give a talk this week to the boys. We’ll send a messenger, and after that, if it's one of our kids, soak ‘em on sight. They knows better.”

Arrow nodded. “It's hard enough as is. People don’t wanna buy from girls, thinks it unladylike for them to sell or something. I think it's rubbish, but there’s a reason the boys make more sellin’ than the girls do. Thankfully, they all split without much promptin.’”

Race exhaled. “We’s real sorry ‘bout our boys. Like Birdie said, they oughta know better.”

Arrow stood. “Just don’t let it happen again. And some of your boys may come back soaked in both senses of the word.”

Bird laughed. “They deserve it. Just don’t let ‘em drown, alright, Arrow ?”

Arrow glanced at Race as he stood. “Fine.”

Bird laughed gleefully, and Lil’ Bit joined in. Race laughed too, but a bit more nervously than she had. Arrow saw them out, and the sun sat a little lower than midway.

Bird fished a pocket watch out of her dress. “We got time ta grab some lunch before we need to book it to Queens. The Harlem visit threw our time off, and we need to make through Brooklyn before nightfall. You know how unkindly Red takes to overnight visitors.”

Race shivered. “Yeah, and we don’t want to spend the night carrying the banner again. We do that enough during the day.”

Bird sighed wistfully. “Oh bed, how I’ve missed you.”

Race laughed and knocked her with his arm playfully. “I’m sure it misses you too,” he laughed.

Bird looked down at Lil’ Bit, who was still chomping happily on her sandwich. The two older ones had agreed to spoil her, and she had half of the sandwich that they’d bought. Race and Bird split the other half and dug into some of the gifts Hatter had given them for the other boroughs. Of course, Brooklyn’s gifts remained untouched. Not even Spunk, king of Queens, wanted to mess with Red.

“Like your sandwich?” Race asked.

Lil’ Bit nodded enthusiastically, some of the lettuce spilling from her mouth. “Ifs eal goof,” she said around a mouthful.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Bird reprimanded. Race laughed.

“Yous such a muddah,” he remarked.

“Least you got one now,” she returned.

“I had a perfectly good one, thank you very much,” he said.

Bird raised an eyebrow. “Well, what’d ya do with her?”

Race thought for a split second. “Traded her for a box o’ peaches.”

Bird’s eyebrow rose higher. “Hope we don’t see any peaches today, Lil’ Bit and I might get traded away.”

Race laughed. “Nah, I love Lil’ Bit too much,” he said, patting the girl’s hat. “You on the other hand . . .”

Bird took off her hat and smacked Race on the arm. “Asshole.”

Race just grinned.

They made it through Queens with no problem and got a good parting gift from them for both Hatter and Red. Even though Manhattan was small, it was still well respected. Mostly because Hatter took the time to maintain good relationships with the other boroughs.

Bird looked at her watch again. “We have six hours ‘til sunset, and we gotta get all the way through Brooklyn, and Red’s probably gonna keep us at least an hour. If you see a wagon or a trolley we can hitch a ride on, point it out.”

Race and Lil’ Bit nodded. He was carrying her on his back, and Bird had the two bags. They alternated between sprinting and walking, trying to get to Brooklyn as fast as they could.

They were panting by the time they reached the border and saw two Brooklyn scouts waiting. Rebel, Red’s second in command, was leaned against a wall while her apprentice, Spot, played with marbles at her feet. When Rebel and Bird made eye contact, she tapped Spot with her boot. He looked up, saw Race and Bird and jumped up to follow Rebel as she walked towards them.

“Manhattan,” Rebel greeted.

“Brooklyn,” Bird replied. The boys just nodded to each other in greeting.

The girls broke the stoic act and reached over to hug each other. They’d been friends for years, and had been newsies together until Rebel accepted Red’s offer to switch boroughs.

“How’re things in Manhattan? How’s the new kids?” Bird and Rebel hooked arms and began walking into the city.

Race sat Lil’ Bit down so they could begin to walk behind the girls.

“Who’re you?” Spot asked.

Lil’ Bit shied into Race’s leg. Race sighed. “That’s Lil’ Bit. She’s usually not like this.”

“I’m Spot!” Spot said. He grinned, showing that one of his front teeth had been knocked out.

“Hey! You lost a tooth!” Race exclaimed. “When’d that happen?”

Spot grinned even larger. “Yesterday! Got in a fight with some Queen’s boys and they knocked my tooth out. It was already loose, though, so it didn’t hurt too bad.”

Race smiled. “D’ya get anythin’ for it?”

“A peppermint stick under my pillow this morning.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “Want some?”

Race grinned. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Spot said, breaking it in half. He gave half to Race and stuck the other part in his mouth. Lil’ Bit let go of Race’s hand and scampered up to Bird and Rebel before he could break off a piece for her. He shrugged and popped it in his mouth.

“It's been ages since I’ve had candy,” Race said.

Spot took it out to speak. “Me too. Forgot how good it tasted.”

The two pairs passed the time in easy conversation, much better than it would be once they reached the Brooklyn lodging house. Red was notorious for discouraging relationships between other boroughs for any reasons other than business. He never said why, and anyone who asked got soaked.

They arrived in sight of the docks, and conversation ceased. Spot moved up to Rebel’s side at her bidding, and Race grabbed Lil’ Bit’s hand and moved behind Bird. They all felt the eyes of the other Brooklyn newsies watching them from their perches on the docks. Several on the top of some crates had slingshots aimed at the visitors. Race shifted to shield Lil’ Bit.

“Manhattan,” Red’s voice boomed from the stacks.

“Brooklyn,” Bird greeted.

“I see Hatter still sends a girl to do a man’s work.”

Rebel stood a little straighter. Spot glanced up at her.

“Only the best for you, Red,” Bird returned, glancing at the ‘archers.’

Red laughed. “If only that were true. Come in.”

Two newsies at the bottom stepped out, and a hole opened in the crates. The Manhattan newsies stepped forward as the Brooklyn newsies fell in behind them. Lil’ Bit waved at a boy. He did not wave back. Race pulled her closer to his side as they moved farther into Brooklyn’s territory. “So,” Red started, “any gifts?” Bird nodded and motioned for Race to get them out of his bag. He pulled out a few objects and stepped forward, handing them to the leader. Red looked them over before handing them to a kid with an eyepatch. Race watched them warily.

“Could I have my bag back?” Race asked.

Red laughed but didn’t answer. He led the way farther into the building, newsies peeling away the farther they went. Both Bird and Race knew that they didn’t go far.

Red’s hold on Brooklyn had been shaky for the last few months, and everyone could sense that a new leader wouldn’t be long coming. Bird just hoped the revolution didn’t happen while they were still in Brooklyn, she and Race would have enough trouble getting out on their own, but this trip they had to worry about Lil’ Bit too.

“So,” Red said, taking a seat at a table in the centre of the kitchen. Bird and Race picked seats opposite him. “What’s happening in Manhattan?”

Bird shrugged as Race placed Lil’ Bit in his lap. “Got a few new kids, nothing much. How’s Brooklyn?”

“Stronger than ever,” Red replied, tone steely and cold. Rebel seemed to fade out of the shadows, standing with arms crossed behind her boss. Bird glanced over at her, seemingly surprised by her appearance. Red smirked.

“That’s . . . good,” Bird replied. “Got any griefs with us?”

“A few,” Red said. He launched into a tirade about things that he felt Manhattan could do better. Bird nodded along sympathetically, smiling as he ranted. Race had to struggle not to fall asleep.

They left Brooklyn three hours later, much later than they had intended. The sun was dipping below the horizon, but they didn’t dare stop to stay in Brooklyn. They could tell from Red’s tone that he was running a tight ship, much tighter than he usually ran it. If he wouldn’t take overnight visitors a few months ago, he certainly wasn’t going to take them now.

The two teens walked across Brooklyn until they made it to the docks for ferries to Staten Island. They snuck aboard a ferry and made it across the channel before sneaking off again. Lil’ Bit was falling asleep on her feet, so Bird picked her up and carried her on her back. The Island scouts, Mary and Chess were waiting on them. They walked them back to their lodging house, where all three crawled into a bunk together and promptly fell asleep.

Lil’ Bit woke before Race and Bird, per their usual schedule. She crawled over Bird and went to the bathroom on autopilot. But when she stumbled into a wall she opened her eyes all the way and realized she had no idea where she was. She let out a cry and stumbled backwards. She couldn’t see Bird, or Race, or Smalls or Sniper! Where was she?

Confused, and still muddled by sleep, Lil’ Bit wandered outside the house. The bright lights confused her more, and she started crying. Panicked, she took off in a run.

Rebel went to the distribution gates, Spot standing quietly beside her. She picked up a stack of 150 papers and hoisted them onto her shoulder. She and Spot walked out of the gates and towards the pier. A lot of Staten Island kids had been trying to sneak onto their turf, so naturally Red sent his toughest kids there.

Spot took his usual 70 papers and moved away from Rebel. They began hawking their wares, yelling the headlines to any passersby.

“THREE MEN FOUND STABBED IN BOWERY!” Rebel called. Three businessmen came and passed her a penny each. She tipped her hat to each one, depositing the pennies in her pocket. They made a nice jingling sound.

“Hey, kid!” someone called. Rebel turned, assuming they meant her. Apparently, she assumed correctly, as she saw a man come jogging towards her.

“Sir?” Rebel asked.

“There’s a kid on the ferry, didn’t know if you’d know who she belonged to. Keeps crying about a bird . . .”

Rebel’s eyes widened. “Show me.”

Her tone was commanding, even to adults, and the man hurriedly started off again. He led her to a ferry, where another very confused man was standing, holding a squealing child in his arms.

“Hey, Lil’ Bit?” Rebel called. The child’s head snapped up, and Rebel’s suspicions were confirmed. Lil’ Bit was in his arms, crying up a storm. When she saw Rebel she waved her arms at the teen and started squirming in an attempt to get down.

Rebel walked forward and took her from the ferryman’s arms. Lil’ Bit clung to her neck and sobbed into her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Rebel said to the two men. “Sorry about this.”

They tipped their hats to her. “Not a problem, Miss. Just glad the little tyke got back safe.”

Rebel nodded again in thanks and bent to pick up her papers. She started walking in Spot’s general direction, hoping to catch him before he became swamped. She found him a bit later, trying to convince a mother to buy from him. Lil’ Bit had calmed down considerably, and Rebel took a moment to watch the boy. She rolled her eyes fondly when he finally sold the pape.

“SPOT!” she called. His head snapped up, and he saw her across the morning crowd. He scooped up his papers and ran towards her, alarm clear on his face.

“What's wrong, Rebel?” He skidded to a stop in front of her.

“I need you to go to Staten Island and find Bird and Race. Lil’ Bit wandered ovah here somehow, and they’s gotta be worried sick. Can you do that?”

Spot saluted and handed his papers off to Rebel. He took off towards the ferries, being out of sight in a few seconds. Rebel looked at the stack of papers in her hand, well over a hundred, and winced. It would be hard to sell that many, but she would have to. Neither she nor Spot could afford to take a hit that hard, especially after she bought that peppermint stick for Spot.

She set up shop on a street corner, selling as hard as she could. A few people took pity on her and the baby and gave her an extra penny or two. She made sure to smile at those. More than a few people, however, turned their nose up at her. This was something she was used to (the short hair, pants, and sharp tongue were not particularly fetching traits for a girl of her age) but it seemed worse now that she had a child on her hip.

She's not my kid! Rebel wanted to yell, but she knew it would do no good. Those people would be gone in a heartbeat, and she would have to yell it again. So instead she worked on selling her papers.

“MAN FOUND STABBED IN BOWERY!” she yelled. Three people stopped to buy one. “Thanks, mistah.”

“Rebel?” someone said. Rebel turned around, and her heart sank.

She plastered a smile on her face. “Hey, Crack! What's up?”

He stared at Lil’ Bit, completely ignoring her greeting. “What's she doin' here?”

“There was an emergency-” Rebel began, but Crack cut her off.

“You know the boss ain't gone like this . . .”

“Please don't tell, Crack,” Rebel said. “It's just for a few hours!”

“Begging?” Crack sneered. “That's not very Brooklyn of you.”

Rebel could feel herself start losing her patience. “Need I remind you that I'm Second Brooklyn?”

“Need I remind you that First Brooklyn and I get along veeeery well?” Crack said. “Something like this might change his opinion on his choice in seconds.”

“You wouldn't -” Rebel hissed.

“Oh but I would,” he said. He smacked his hands together quickly. “Boys!”

Immediately, upwards of ten boys emerged from the shadows. Two grabbed Lil’ Bit, who had begun screaming, and the rest grabbed Rebel. She managed to land a few hits on them, but they wrenched her arms behind her and held her tight. She struggled in their grip, but they held tight as they marched across Brooklyn.

As they walked, other newsies began peeling away from their selling spots. The implication that something had happened to Rebel was far too important to ignore. She swore and spit and struggled the whole way, but nothing she did could get them to release her.

Red stood at the docks near Manhattan, waiting. He had a cane in his hand, the Brooklyn symbol of power. Rebel felt a cold weight settle in her stomach as she stared at his back. Crack snapped his fingers, and they released Rebel, shoving her forward so that she fell on the ground.

“Rebel.” His tone was cold, colder than she’d ever heard. “I hear you have betrayed me.”

“Red, I swear, whatever they said-”

“SILENCE!” he roared, slamming the cane down on the crate. Immediately she shut her mouth. Red turned and looked over her, still lying on the ground. He climbed down the crates walking forward until his boots were level to her face. Slowly she looked up until the two made eye contact.

“Stand.”

She did.

“Crack, her crimes please.”

Crack stepped forward, a crazy and lopsided grin on his face. “Harbouring a non-Brooklyn. Sneaking over the bridge every night. Maintaining friendships outside of Brooklyn for reasons other than treaties. Protecting Manhattan when Manhattan screwed up. Selling more than she is allowed. Buying sweets for anyone other than herself. Disrespecting her commanding officer. Swearing inside the Lodging House. Skipping selling on Sundays to go to church. Protecting younger newsies from their dues.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Red said.

Rebel sat silent.

“How many of these are you guilty of?”

She said nothing.

“ANSWER ME!” Red yelled. A drop of his spit landed on her face.

“I plead the fifth,” she finally said.

Red laughed, a dry and humourless sound. “That’s real cute, sweetheart. You think this is a courtroom!” He walked around her slowly, looking her up and down before once again stopping in front of her. He regarded her silently for a moment before reaching forward and grabbing her by the collar. Her crucifix caught in his fist and the bunch of fabric, and her breath hitched as he pulled her close to his face. “This is my court. I am the king here, and you will answer to me. No one can save you. I am lawyer, judge, and jury. Answer. How many are you guilty of?”

Rebel took a breath. “If any of those are crimes, then I am guilty of all of them.”

Spot ran across Staten Island, hardly stopping. He knew exactly where the house was, and he was trying to get there as fast as possible. He didn’t know exactly what would happen if Red found out about Lil’ Bit, but he had a vague idea. And he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

He ran into the Lodging House, slamming the door against the wall at his entrance. “Where’re Bird and Race?”

A few kids were in the lobby and looked up, startled at his entrance. One of the teenagers pointed upstairs, and Spot ran towards them, taking them two at a time. He burst into another room, where all conversation promptly ceased.

“Spot?” Bird asked. Everyone in the room stared at him, confused.

“Lil’ Bit’s in Brooklyn,” he said through heavy panting. “With Rebel. Gotta get her out now.”

Immediately the two Manhattan newsies stood to their feet. “Spot, where in Brooklyn?”

“Docks,” he said. “Staten docks. Hurry.”

Bird and Race shoved their hats on their heads and grabbed Bird’s bag. They started to say the formal goodbyes to Check, but she just shooed them away and told them to find the kid.

“Red’ll be pissed,” she said. “And that is something none of us need.”

With a quick thanks, the three newsies bolted out the door and onto the street. They ran through, pushing past people in their haste. More than a few adults yelled, but they couldn’t be bothered. They had something much more important to do.

They crawled onto a ferry and hid in the baggage carrier. Race’s foot stuck out and nearly got them caught, but he pulled it in just in time. They sat silently the whole ride, each wondering how bad of a mess they’d gotten in to.

Spot lead the way off the ferry and they followed him to where he’d left Rebel and Lil’ Bit.

“Rebel!” he called. “Where are you?”

Race fiddled with his cap. “Bird, I don’t feel so good about this.”

“Rebel!” she called. “Lil’ Bit!”

“‘Ey, Bird! Come look at this!” Spot was standing next to a building corner, waving his hat up in the air so she could find him in the crowd. The other two newsies ran to him, and he pointed to a stack of papers that were left on the ground.

“These is Rebel’s,” he said. “But Rebel ain’t here.”

“Where else would she be?” Bird asked. “She wouldn’t have just abandoned her papes, especially since she knew we was coming . . .”

“What if she didn’t leave them . . .” Race said.

“Oh shit,” Spot muttered. “We gotta go. C’mon!”

He took off running again, and the other two followed. He led the way through alleys and across streets, cutting in front of bulls, wagons, and important city folk. Race and Bird tore after him, having a little trouble keeping up, despite the fact that they both had longer legs. They didn’t pass a single newsie the entire journey.

Red pushed Rebel with the fist previously entangled in her shirt, and she fell to the ground. The air rushed from her lungs as her back hit the dirt and she immediately began gasping to fill the void.

Red paced, cane tapping the ground as he walked. Rebel watched him warily, still breathing heavily. His jaw clenched as he walked.

“Rebel,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned and looked at her, stomping forward quickly. She scrambled back, but he stepped on her foot, pinning her down. He smacked the cane on her ankle and a loud CRACK! echoed throughout the assembly. She grimaced but refused to cry out.

“I brought you up from nothing!” he yelled. “I found you, cold, shriveling, and starving in the Manhattan streets and brought you here! I made you my right-hand woman, second only to me! You were a queen! Everything was at your feet! And then,” he ground his foot down, “you betrayed me!”

“It wasn’t betrayal,” Rebel whispered. She closed her eyes against the pain, still refusing to scream.

“What was that?”

“It wasn’t betrayal!” she shouted. “I was always loyal to you!”

“Then why didn’t you listen to me?” Red shouted. He stepped off her ankle, but the end of his cane caught her chest, holding her in place. “You disobeyed me!”

“You were asking me to go against everything I stood for!”

“You were supposed to stand for Brooklyn! And Brooklyn alone!”

“I’m more than a borough!”

“Not here, you aren’t,” Red spat. “Here you are Brooklyn, and Brooklyn alone! If you wanted to stand for something else, you should’ve stayed in Manhattan and starved!”

“You’re right,” Rebel said. She propped herself up on her arms. “I should’ve stayed in Manhattan. At least there I would’ve died instead of having to live under your tyranny.”

Red laughed, another humorless sound. “You want to die? Well, you’re about to get your wish.”

Rebel paled.

“Get me some rope!” Red yelled. Rebel stood to her feet and grimaced, but tried to hobble away. Crack grabbed her, however, wrenching her arms behind her and stomping on her broken foot. She screamed and fell limp.

“Rope!” Red screamed again. The crowd mumbled among themselves, but no one moved to get any. “Why is no one getting me a rope, dammit?!”

Nobody moved.

“You!” he screamed, pointing to a boy in the front, who had an eyepatch over his left eye. “Find me some rope!”

The boy gulped. “No.”

Red reeled backwards. “What?”

He steeled himself. “No. I will not contribute to her murder.”

“York,” Rebel breathed.

“It is a deserved death!” Red cried. “She admitted to her crimes herself!”

“They aren’t crimes!” another girl, Rafaela, shouted. She moved forward. “She cares for Brooklyn more than anyone else!”

The crowd murmured in agreement.

“She cared for herself! She betrayed Brooklyn! Get me some rope, dammit! I am your king! You will listen to me!”

“Brooklyn is more than a borough!” another girl yelled. Joey moved to the front to stand with York and Raf. “Brooklyn is all of us. And she cared for us more than you ever did. You were a leader in name, but Rebel is a leader at heart.”

Red huffed. “That’s bullshit! She doesn’t know the first thing about leading!”

“Who fed us when we didn’t sell enough?” York asked.

“Who made sure we all got a bed?” Raf said.

“Who showed us the ropes? Who made sure that your goons didn’t beat the little kids?” Joey asked.

“Who took care of us? The people you ‘ruled’?” York asked. “It sure as hell wasn’t you!”

Red scoffed. “If I didn’t take care of you, then who did?”

“Rebel!” they shouted back.

“She’s more of a leader than you’ll ever be!”

Red let out a mad laugh. “The only way to determine a leader is through combat! And as you can see, I’ve already bested her.” He motioned to where Rebel was standing limply in Crack’s arms. “I’m your true king. And if Rebel is lighting a rebellion against me, then the fire has to be extinguished.”

Spot, Bird, and Race burst through the Brooklyn newsies right as Crack tightened his belt around Rebel’s wrists and pushed her over the side of the pier.

“REBEL!” the three screamed.

Crack made a signal, and the newsie holding Lil’ Bit chucked her over the side as well.

Bird screamed and broke into a run. She pushed past every newsie there and dove over the side of the pier. Race was a split second behind her, having momentarily paused to remove his shoes. They hit the water and dove, following the trail of red through the water.

Spot’s vision tunneled and he saw red. He let out an animalistic scream and tore straight towards Red. Red took a step back, having never seen this child so angry. Usually, Spot was a pretty happy-go-lucky kid, but now he was nothing but a ball of fury.

Spot tackled Red to the ground and immediately drove his fists into the King’s face. Left, right, left, right, each hit planting itself in the center of Red’s face. His lip split beneath Spot’s fists, blood trickling down his face. Red grabbed his cane and hit Spot roughly on the crown of his head.

The hit momentarily stunned Spot enough that Red was able to sit up and throw Spot of off him. Spot hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, and Red towered above him.

He stepped forward, and his shadow fell over Spot’s face. From Spot’s place on the ground, all he could see was the silhouette of a boy he had once looked up to. Now all he saw was the dark outline of a teenager who’s mussed hair made him appear as a devil. All Spot could think was how accurate that description was as Red’s cane came down on him again.

Bird kicked frantically, trying to reach Rebel before they both ran out of air. A faint trail of blood came from her head, and Bird was afraid she would pass out before she could reach her.

Race’s arms wrapped around Lil’ Bit and he kicked them both to the surface. Panicked, Lil’ Bit kicked and wriggled, her tiny fists hitting him in the face several times. They broke the surface, and Race took a deep breath. Lil’ Bit drew in a large gulp of air and immediately began screaming to raise the dead.

Race swam over to a ladder, whispering soothing words to Lil’ Bit as they moved. She eventually calmed down, and he climbed the ladder. He held the little girl close to his chest and patted her hair, whispering sweet nothings to her as she sobbed on his shirt.

Spot raised his arms to block Red’s next hit. It did no good, however, as Red hit him in the gut. Spot grimaced and rolled on his side, immediately coughing up a mouthful of blood. The cane came down again, and Spot groaned, low and guttural.

“Stop, stop,” Spot said.

“Do you give up?” Red sneered.

“No,” Spot said. “I want to challenge you for Brooklyn.”

Rebel’s eyes snapped open. She immediately began struggling against the belt that bound her wrists and began kicking. Her ankle screamed in pain, but she kept on. She felt something wrap around her waist and turned to see Bird in the water.

Bird began messing with the belt, trying to loosen it from Rebel’s wrists. After struggling for a few moments the leather fell off, and the two girls kicked their way to the surface. They broke the water and both took loud gasps of air. They tread water for a moment before hearing a sentence that stopped their blood cold.

“I want to challenge you for Brooklyn.”

Rebel’s eyes widened and she swam forward. She pulled herself up on the pier, dripping wet. “SPOT!” she screamed, but it was too late. Red had thrown his cane on the ground and was now squaring up to fight Spot.

Spot stood to his feet and raised his hands to be level with his head. The two danced around each other, each wiping blood off their faces.

Red punched first, a strong right hook. But Spot saw it coming and ducked under it. He reached forward with two fingers and poked Red in the eyes. Red stumbled backwards and Spot reached up with the palm of his right hand and jammed it into Red’s nose.

Red swore loudly as Spot stepped forward. He stomped on Red’s foot and looked the previous king dead in the eyes.

“This is for Rebel,” he muttered before pushing Red’s hips with all the strength he could muster. Red’s leg snapped as he fell backwards and he screamed out in pain. Spot let off his foot and sat down on his waist.

He pinned Red’s arms and looked down at the crying king with at least two broken bones.

“Surrender, and I’ll let you live,” Spot said.

“Never,” Red spat.

Spot shrugged. “Fine.”

He stood and stomped down on Red’s stomach with all the strength he could muster. Red screamed out once again before Spot stomped on his mouth. He started crying harder.

“Surrender,” Spot said.

Red shook his head.

Spot shoved him off the pier.

Red sank like a stone.

Race saw Spot and Red on the end of the pier. Spot said something, but he was too far away to hear. Red shook his head no, and Spot pushed him over the edge.

Red made a huge splash as he hit the water. He didn’t come back up for air.

Two more boys dove off the dock as Spot watched. A few minutes later they pulled Red up on the pier and pumped his chest. After several minutes of this, they sat back on their heels in defeat. They talked among themselves for a few minutes before they picked Red back up and threw him back in the bay.

Race crawled up the ladder, Lil’ Bit clinging to his neck. The two walked up to the stunned crowd. No one said anything as the two soaking wet newsies joined the crowd surrounding Spot.

After several moments of silence, Spot bent down and picked up Red’s discarded cane. He tucked it into his suspenders, but it was too long and scraped the ground as he walked. Slowly, Spot turned to face his new subjects.

“Long live Spot!” York shouted. “Long live the king!”

The crowd took up the chant, all shouting variations of York’s chant. Spot let a small smile appear on his face as he drank it in for a moment. However, after about five cheers, he raised his arms in a ‘be quiet’ gesture. The crowd immediately silenced, eager to hear the first declaration of their new king.

“I’m honoured,” he started. “Really, I am. But this ain’t mind,” he said, shaking the cane. “I know I fought Red and all that shit, but that’s only ‘cause Rebel was in the water. And she had a broke foot. I know she woulda beat ‘im way before I did, but she wanted to make sure I was protected first. She knew that on the very small chance she lost they’d take it out on me, and she didn’t want that. And like York and Raf and Joey said, Brooklyn is more than a borough. And if anyone embodies Brooklyn, it's Rebel.”

At this Raf and Joey broke into cheers. The rest of the group joined them, cheering even louder when Bird and Rebel limped forward to take the cane from Spot. He bowed slightly as he handed it over, and Rebel laughed and bopped him lightly on the head with it. He smiled up at her, and she reached down to give him a hug.

“Thanks, Spot,” she whispered in his ear.

“You deserve it,” he whispered back.

Two months later and it was time for the Brooklyn newsies to make the rounds of the boroughs. They had new messengers now that Crack and a few others had been disposed of. In their place came Rafaela and Spot.

They were greeted with hugs at the door of the Manhattan Lodging House. The sun was going down and they agreed to spend the night and discuss business in the morning.

Spot and Race decided to double up on the latter’s bunk. He had a top bunk, so the two climbed up and huddled together under the covers. They looked at each other and dissolved into giggles, both having had just a bit of the alcohol that Hatter had managed to smuggle in.

“I’m glad Rebel is king of Brooklyn now,” Spot said.

“She’s a girl, nitwit,” Race said, smacking Spot on the chest. “She’s queen of Brooklyn!”

“Nuh-uh!” Spot protested. “Rebel says that’s bullshit. She’s king same as Red was, same as I’ll be.”

Race grew silent. “Same as you’ll be?”

Spot nodded emphatically. “I’m prince o’ Brooklyn r’now. She’s training me to be king. Kinda like Red did to her. But better.”

“Are ya gonna . . . y’know?”

“Know what?”

“Kill her? Like you did Red?”

Spot snorted. “‘Course not. We’re getting rid of that ritual. It’s stupid.”

Race visibly relaxed. “Good.”

“Yeah, it is,” Spot agreed. He yawned loudly before burrowing deeper into the covers. “‘Night, Racey.”

Race smiled. “‘Night Princey.”

Y’all. This is 7,161 words. I think this is the most I have written for one story. I first created this story on February 5th, and it is now reaching it’s conclusion. I feel it is only fitting to end Girlsies Week 2018 with a story about my two original girlsies, Rebel and Bird.

As I said, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If you would like to be tagged in any future fics, reblog/like/reply to this post and I’ll add you!

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