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FF.Net Back Up: Breaking Old Ties by Gaelicchick

Originally Published Apr. 25, 2000

Part Three of the "East Meets West" series- An old friend's ties to the Irish mafia put Maggie and the rest of the house in danger.

Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Words: 13,792 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 3 - Published: Apr 25, 2000 - id: 21653

Breaking Old Ties

Maggie O'Rourke sat hunched over a table in the back room of O'Connor's pub. She screwed her face up tight and frowned as she went over the figures in the account book for the ten thousandth time.

"Douglas! Douglas!" After a moment a large, burly six foot red headed and red bearded Irishman entered. Douglas O'Connor owned the pub, and Maggie had taken it upon herself, for a small addition to her wages of course, to help him keep the books in order.

"Douglas, is dis right? Ders got ta be a mistake here." She pointed with her pencil to the expenditures of the last month. Douglas frowned,

"No, looks right ta me lass."

'Do ye mind tellin me den, what the devil yer doin spending dat much on rum and whiskey?"

"Look around ye girl, dis is a bar." Maggie gave him a look that showed she was clearly not amused.

"Douglas, look at these two pages. Dese are da costs when ya let me make da run, and dese are da costs when ya leave it ta Colin, Marcus, or yerself. Do we see a pattern?" Upon inspection, it was revealed that the costs when Maggie bought the liquor were drastically lower.

Douglas gave her a look, "An what do ye mean ta say by all dis? I should let you buy da beer, is dat wot ye want."

Maggie put her hand on his shoulder, "No no no, yer doin just fine with da Guinness. I'm jest sayin dat I tink as so far as de hard liqour is concerned, I get better deals. And ye know dat I kind find da best stuff to, none of dat watered down "fixed up" shite."

"Dis wouldn't have anytin ta do wit da run I was plannin on sendin da boys on tanite, wold it Maggie my love?" Maggie grinned.

"What a great idea! Yer a genius Douglas O'Connor. I'll be back by seven."

With that Maggie hopped off her stool and sprinted through the doors out into the main room. She hopped over the bar to take off her apron and grab Colin's old coat, worn out at he elbows and too long, but it was warm. Douglas was waiting by the bar, a piece of paper and a small sack of cash in his hand.

"Here take it, there is enough in der fer me ta buy all I need, so I'm sure ye'll leave plenty in der if yer as good as ye tink. An 'heres da list. We're low on brandy, whiskey and rum. Don't ferget da vodka and sherry, Sam's back in town. Plenty a gin too, the Martin's jest had a another boy." Maggie glanced over the list and shoved it in her pocket. She headed towards the door.

"Wait!," Douglas seemed a little bit nervous. "I hate ta ask it, but where are ya planin on buyin dis?"

Maggie smiled, "I figured Sullivan and Finn's fer da whiskey an vodka and da Red Dog fer da sherry."

"What about da rest?"

Maggie gave Douglas a condescending glance. "Ya know fer yer own good I can't tell ya about dat."

Douglas groaned. "Maggie! Ye can't be buyin liquor from da bloody mafia! Do ya want ta get me killed? Want ta see me hangin by me own entrails from de streetlamp? Me, with a wife an children ta support, who'll mourn me an be farced ta live in de streets."

A shout came from upstairs. "Don't ye listen ta his belly-achin Maggie! I never wanted him ta start a tavern! A nice little boardin 'ouse, dats all I wanted!"

Douglas glared at the ceiling. "Bernadette! Kindly stay outta tings dat don't concern you!" The only response was a curse muttered in Gaelic and a bang as something was thrown against the wall. Maggie rolled her eyes.

"Relax, Douglas. Go back an finish with da books, I'll have ta get workin when I get back." She headed for the door. Douglas grabbed his hair in both fists and looked up to the heavens.

"Relax she tells me! All right! I'll relax! But you'll be sorry when dey are comin in here and choppin off me fingers all because me cheeky little slip of a bar girl insulted on of der boys. Just you wait!"

Maggie shook her head, very amused. "Douglas, you have nothin ta worry about. Yer fingers are perfectly safe." She opened the door and walked out, calling over her shoulder as she left, "Dey take yer toes first!"

Maggie whistled and skipped out into the afternoon sun. She headed out of Brooklyn Heights and across the Brooklyn Bridge. She cut over to 2nd avenue, following it as far as 42nd street and cutting through Mid Town till she hit 8th avenue and was in the Kitchen.

Hell's Kitchen had been, since the civil war, a den of the sleaziest, dirtiest, mist despicable criminals in New York. Even some of the underground leaders avoided it. But it was the place to go if you wanted good liquor. All you needed was an in, and Maggie had one. She took 9th Avenue up to 47th street. About halfway down the block there was a dirty, rusty metal door with the number 314 painted on in chipping white paint. Maggie passed the door and went down the ally. The side door to the kitchen was open, and she slipped in. She nodded to Julio, the head chef, and went about finding the busboys.

She happened upon Bobby Francia as he was dumping a load of dishes into the sink. She snuck up behind him, covering his eyes. "Guess who?"

"Maggie, there are other ways of starting a conversation you know." Bobby never had been one for jokes. Maggie shrugged as he turned around,

"Sorry, I'm here on business, and I'm kind of in a hurry." Bobby nodded, waiting for her to go on. "Have you seen Patty tanite?" Bobby shook his head.

"Nope, haven't seen him. But we did get a request from table 7 to bring them some..." He stopped shuffling in his pocket, "Here it is. They wanted some 'bloody corned beef and cabbage and don't burn it this time you bunch of limey bastards.' And about three gallons of Guinness have gone out that way too." Maggie grinned,

"Sounds like my Patty. Thanks Bobby!" With that she scooped up a tray and entered the main room, heading straight for the table for two in the back where Patty met his clients. Luckily, he was alone. Maggie put the tray on the table and slid into the seat. Patty looked up, surprised, but not too surprised.

"Good Evenin Maggie my girl. What can I do ye fer?"

Maggie produced the list. "I need brandy, gin and rum. I'd say about a weeks worth. But an Irish weeks worth. Plus we've got Sammy in town and another addition to the Martin clan."

Patty looked up, "Ya mean Shamus has another one? Jesus, like bloody rabbits dey are." He took another swig of his beer, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "All right, come wit me. A large order like dat I'll need ya ta make de selections."

Maggie was dwarfed by the big dark haired Irishman. Patty had been a friend of her father's, and she had known him since she was a toddler in Doolin. Unfortunately, while in Dublin Patty had found a talent that paid more than fishing. And it was his job with the Irish mob that got him sent to America a year before Maggie's family came. In the time since, unsatisfied with being owned by Mickey Flynn, Patty went freelance, and though he promised Maggie that the infamous hitman in the headlines wasn't him, he still kept to the shadows.

As they walked they came upon a group of men arguing the street. They wore long black coats and appeared to be dragging a man across the street into a building.

Maggie looked up at Patty, whose mouth was set in a firm line.

"Friends of yours?"

"Jest keep yer eyes straight ahead an keep walkin." Maggie frowned and did as she was told.

They reached a shop that said "William's Antiques", Patty opened the door and held it open for Maggie to walk in. He nodded to a man behind the counter, who walked ahead of them to an old clothes press against the back wall. He took out a set of keys; first opening the press, then stepping in and opening a small door in the back of the press. He motioned for the two to step inside.

They entered a room not seen by the general public. An exclusive liquor store that Patty's profession gave him access to. He and Maggie strolled along the racks, Maggie surveying and then deciding on which brands and vintages she wanted. Patty called over Wemick, the clerk. An aging man, Wemick recognized the two immediately.

"Mr. Donegal, and Miss Kerry, so nice to see you." Donegal and Kerry were what Patty and Maggie were called when doing business of this sort. Most people knew who Patty really was, but he had enough fear of him to keep him safe. No one knew Maggie's real identity, and Patty intended to keep it that way. Here she was considered his niece.

"What can I do for you today?"

Maggie piped up. "Oh, its a small gathering, some intimate friends. We'll need a case a dis an half a case a dis and dis." As she said this she indicated the bottles on the shelves. Wemick noted the vintage and brand.

"Excellent, excellent. And you Donegal, anything today?"

"Now dat ye mention it, I do have a few gifts I'd like ta buy. Ye can handle yerself can't ye now love?" Maggie nodded.

"Here you are miss," Wemick handed her the paper with her order, "Now all you have to do is settle with Bill over there about the, er, bill." Maggie nodded and left him to help Patty.

At the end of the rows of bottles, there was a small window, much like a ticket window, but it was entirely black. There was a large slit along the bottom, and a bell. Maggie rang the bell and waited. Presently, a small slate board and piece of chalk were passed through the slit. Maggie took the chalk, placed her paper order on the board, and pushed it back under. After a few seconds, the board came back with a figure on it. It was incredibly high for what Maggie had bought. She crossed it out, and wrote what she was willing to pay, and pushed the board back.

On the other side of the window was Silent Bill. Rumor was that he had once cheated the head of one of the crime rings on an order, charged them too much for watered down wine and brandy. As a punishment, they had found Bill, and cut out his tongue. But since Bill still had the connections to get the best alcohol, they let him keep his shop, even hiding it and bringing him exclusive business. They were the ones who paid for Wemick to be a front man. But Bill was still a cheapskate, and he drove a tough bargain for his wares.

The other rumor was that Bill's face was disfigured when police tried to interrogate him about his customers. That was why the window had been painted black, but he always seemed to know who was on the other side anyway.

Finally, Maggie wrote down another price, and underlined it, meaning she was pulling her order soon if they didn't agree. The slate came back, the number circled. Maggie put the money on the slate. It came back to her with two tags with numbers on them, the numbers of the crates her order was in. Written on the slate was, "Nice doing business with you again Maggie."

Maggie smiled, wrote a little note back, and took her tags. She got Patty's attention, and they walked toward the back exit. They came out on the waterfront, and at the bottom of the stairs Maggie handed her tags to a rather large brutish man. He nodded, disappeared inside, and came back, handing her two small crates.

"Ugh," she groaned picking them up. "Patty, yer givin me a ride, I can't carry dese all day way back."

Patty looked a little uncomfortable. "I can't exactly go into Brooklyn fer a while lass."

"Patty you didn't!"

"Keep yer voice down! I can get ye as far as de bridge, but yer carryin from der."

Maggie sighed and nodded, it wasn't too far.

Patty, true to his word, got them a cab as far as the bridge, then promptly disappeared after giving Maggie a kiss and dropping her on the Brooklyn side. That put Maggie right in Brooklyn Heights, so it wasn't that far a walk.

Or it wouldn't have been if she hadn't been stopped.

"And just what is dat youse smugglin inta heah?" Maggie kept walking past the finger docks where the voice came from. Before she knew where he came from, a thin boy in pink suspenders was in front of her, blocking her way.

"I said, whats in deah?" He emphasized his words by rapping sharply on the crates with his cane.

"Keep yer bloody stick off me property! An get outta me way!"

Spot showed no sign of moving. "Are ye daft? I said get outta me way, ye got no cause ta stop me."

"Oh yes I do. You'se is in my territory. An any kid bringing liquor inta my territory gots ta pay da toll. So come on, pay up."

Maggie was slightly puzzled how he knew what was in the crates, but she had no intention of giving him her loot. "Over my dead body." Spot raised his eyebrow, Maggie spit in his face.

Spots face grew red in anger. Maggie slowly lowered the cases to the ground.

"Dat," Spot growld as he wiped his face, "was a very big mistake. Now, I'se not in da habit a hittin young dewdrops like yerself but-"

"Well, allow me ta make it easier for ya ye Yankee bastard." With that Maggie slapped Spot open palm across the face. He looked like a stunned fish. He made to swing at Maggie, but she wasn't there, instead he felt his legs buckle as she swiped under him with her leg. He scrambled to his feet, but again she wasn't there. He didn't turn around, but heard her footsteps and made a grab for her as she ran up behind him, but instead of sending her sprawling, she tucked into a roll and sprang up laughing.

Spot grinned, this was becoming fun. He made to punch her in the stomach, but she sidestepped and grabbed his arm, whirling him around and sending him flying towards a pile of empty crates. He ducked into a roll and sprang up rather than hitting them, and made a rush for her. She had lost him in the dark and he caught her by behind, but she reversed the hold and had him in a feeble headlock. He reversed it on her just as somewhere the clock struck seven.

"Shite! I'm gonna be late, sorry-" With that she kneed him in the groin and laid a well delivered right cross to his right eye. Then she grabbed her coat and the crates and raced off, as fast as anyone could with that much to carry.

"Get up! Get up! Time ta sell the papes get outta bed!" Kloppman dodged as a pillow flew across the room full force. It sailed past his head and down the stairs, hitting Race as he, groggy eyed and half awake, was shuffling into the washroom.

"Hey! Leave me outta dis!" He chucked the pillow back at Kloppman who chuckled. He tossed the pillow across the room onto the top bunk.

"Good Mornin to you too Maggie." Smiling to himself, he walked back downstairs.

"Dis, is an ungodly hour of da mornin ta be wakin up." Maggie swung her legs over the bunk and hopped down to the floor.

Emma, who was a big morning person, sailed by her. "It wouldn't be so hard on you if ye hadn't been out till midnight Maggie." Maggie glared at her as she pulled on her pants and searched for her vest.

"It wasn't as if I was out galavantin around da city, I was werkin!" She stomped after Emma down the stairs, shouting to be heard over the din of the boys getting ready.

"So you were, but couldn't you persuade Douglas to let you go earlier? Why do you need to stay so long?"

Maggie couldn't answer her because she had plunged her face into a sink of cold water. She snatched a towel from Racetrack and quickly dried off, speaking as she did so. "Emma, darlin, I love ya, but ye need ta get out more. Tings don't really get goin der until ten o'clock. An the good tips don't come in till the tables with da largest tabs leave, and dey stay the latest. I'm not leavin me tables fer Colin an Marcus to collect from!"

Through all of this, Emma's head had been under water. She lifted it up during Maggie's last sentence, "What are you talking about?"

Maggie muttered a curse, lifted her eyes and her hands to the ceiling, and stomped out of the room. "Abba help me I've got her praying again!" Emma moaned as she followed Maggie out of the room, down the stairs, and out onto Duane Street.

Maggie and Lacey moved down 9th avenue towards 48th street, each on a separate side of the street.

"Read all about it! Mass grave discovered in Crown Heights! Police involvement suspected in da murders! Tank ye sir, tank ye 'mam, tank ye sir, 'mam." Maggie smiled at the pennies in her pockets. That article about a rats nest being fumigated under the police station had been helping her all day.

She nodded as Lacey moved a little further down the street. Maggie stayed on her corner. Or at least, she was planning on doing that when an arm reached out and pulled her into an alley.

Maggie struggled against her unseen captor, biting and clawing. She managed to get a good knee in to the groin, and was abruptly released.

"Bloody hell girl! What did ya do dat fer?"

Maggie turned and looked back. A ray of light filtering through the laundry above hit upon the face of a boy of about 20, of slight build, but tall, with fiery red hair. She stared at him, not believing what she was seeing.

"Aiden?" She whispered, not trusting her eyes. "Aiden, is dat really you?"

The boy looked up, still clutching his stomach, revealing light blue eyes. He smiled. "Well, if I had any doubts about who you were, yer greeting sure put dem ta rest. It's me Maggie."

Maggie squealed, and launched herself into Aiden's arms. He caught her, chuckling deep in his throat, then picking her up in a hug so strong she thought her ribs would crack, but she didn't care.

Aiden Murphy had been a friend of Maggie's since childhood. His family, like her mother's, had come from the Aran islands, a part of Ireland very set in tradition. Aiden and his father had left Doolin with Maggie's family to find work, and the two had never parted until the O'Rourke's left for America following the death of Maggie's mother. They'd been as close as brother and sister, and leaving Aiden had been one of the most painful parts of leaving home for Maggie. She couldn't believe he was here, and she told him so.

"I never expected ta foind you, I admit. But den I herd dis voice in da street yesterday, and I knew. I knew dat was my Maggie. I couldn't foind ya den, but I waited all day taday hopin you'de be back."

Maggie pulled away from her friend, not daring to believe he was really there. "I can't believe it, its jest not possible. How on earth did ya get yer da ta leave? An yer mother? Lord! Dey must be shakin der fingers back on da islands, two families lost ta da sin an curuption of da cursed new world!" She laughed, but Aiden only managed a forced smile. Maggie's face fell, she became concerned.

"Aiden?...Everytin's all right, isn't it?" Aiden looked away for a minute, but when he turned back she could see his face full of pain, she knew that look, she'd worn it herself.

"No..." she shook her head, not wanting to hear this.

Aiden nodded. "He died two winters ago Maggie. Yer right, der wasn't a power on earth dat coulda got him off dat island. An it killed him-" He broke off, and Maggie wrapped her arms around him. She sat down on a box in the alley, Aiden's head in her lap.

"It's all right, I know, I know what its like, believe me..." She sort of rocked him there for a moment, and he recovered himself and sat up on the box with her.

"I don't know how I can say dat in front of you. You lost yer whole family in less den a year. You were da only one left on yer own in a country full a strangers..."

Maggie shook her head. "It doesn't make losin a parent any easier no matter where ye are...Where's yer ma? An da twins? Are dey-"

"Oh, der fine, tank da Lord. After da died, ma left Dublin fer the islands, she took Sean and Marie with her. I stayed ta work."

"Ya shouldn't have isolated yerself Aiden."

"An what should I ha done, gone back ta da Arans? Ye know dat place too well Maggie, modern thinkin has no place in it. I wasn't goin back ta be told dat everytin I believed in was wrong jest because it was different!"

Maggie nodded, she had grown up around the isles where her grandparents lived, they were steeped in tradition; her grandmother refused to speak English, on principle.

They sat in silence a moment, then Maggie tried to clear the air. "So how long have ye been 'ere? An how did ye know what part a da city I was in?"

Aiden paused, and avoided eye contact with Maggie. "I uh, I been here about two months."

"Two months! What took ye so long?"

"It's complicated Maggie. I had certen obligations ta fill..."

Maggie stared at Aiden, hard. This wasn't sounding good. "What kind a obligations, an ye still haven't told me how ye found me where-a-bouts."

"Well Patty said-"

"Patty! Patty O'Brien? What in da name a all dats holy were ya doin around Patty O'Brien?"

Aiden started at her excitement, but he had a guilty look on his face, he was hiding something and Maggie knew it. "Nothin girl! I jest sorta bumped inta him when I got here an-"

"Harse shite."

"What?"

Maggie was standing up now, staring the sitting Aiden right in the eye, hands on her hips, eyes wild. "Dat's harse shite Aiden an you know it. No one, no one jest 'bumps in' ta Patty O'Brien. He makes sure a dat. Jesus, Aiden do ye know what kinda werk dat man is inta-" She stopped, and stared at Aiden long and hard, a shadow of sudden realization crossing over her face. She backed up from him slowly, shaking her head.

"Aiden, Aiden tell me ya don't know anytin about da kind a business Patty's in. Jest tell me dat an we'll ferget all dis. Tell me, please." Her voice had grown very soft, pleading. But Aiden wouldn't meet her eyes. Maggie's face darkened, "Jesus Mary an Joseph," she breathed. Then she exploded.

"Jesus! Aiden how could ya be so stupid! What da hell are ya doin in dat line a werk! Do ye want ta get yerself killed? Want yer ma ta lose all da men in her family? Want me ta lose da best feckin friend I ever had right after I found him again? What da hell are ye doin?" Now Aiden was starting to get angry.

'What do you know Maggie? Huh? Ye been livin here fer almost seven feckin years. You never had ta scrape a livin outta da streets a Dublin. I couldn't support meself let alone me ma on werkin in da factory. I was shinin shoes before-"

"What do I know? What do I know?" Maggie's voice grew louder with every word. "What do ye tink happened ta me when me da died Aiden? Ye tink I was taken in? I was kicked outta me house, an me tings were eider stolen or sold. I had a roof over me head fer tree years because a some kind nuns! An den what happened? It burned Aiden! Da whole feckin place burned ta da ground. I lived on da street fer four years! I scraped a livin together by sleepin on da streets with four other girls. An we had a child ta take care of besides. An dats not feckin easy ta do in a city where dey "don't hire Irish". We're a disease ta dem Aiden, a feckin disease. I had ta sell newspapers fer a penny a piece. An den, ya want ta know what happened last winter Aiden, do ya? Da feckin factory burned down! Burned! Ta da ground! We lived in a boxcar in da middle of winter, I almost died from bloody pneumonia, an ye tink I never had ta scrape a livin tagether? Jesus Aiden, I had it every bit as tough as you. I won't show you me scars where I been beaten. But I never had ta turn ta da bloody mafia ta make ends meet."

Aiden just stared at her for a long time. Maggie stared back breathing heavily, waiting for him to respond.

"I'm sorry Maggie. I never knew it was dat bad, I jest assumed-"

"Don't assume anytin in dis city Aiden. Dats how people get hurt." Aiden nodded. Maggie looked at him, relented, and wrapped her arms around his waist. They stayed that way for a long time, then Maggie pulled him out into the sunlight of the street.

"Come on, I'll take ya ta Tibby's, ye can get a good meal. Not Irish fare a course, but decent."

Aiden looked uncomfortable. "I don't tink dats sech a good idea Maggie." Maggie looked puzzled, "Why?"

Aiden finally spit it out. "Dey keep kinda a tight eye on us ya know. If ye took me ta where ye spend a lot a time, dey'll follow."

Maggie's eyes darted around. "Whose 'dey' Aiden?"

He had to tell her, "Flynn's goons."

Maggie's eyes opened wide in fear, and her voice shook, "Ya mean Mickey Flynn's goons? Why would dey be here, Mickey runs outta Dublin an Belfast."

Aiden shook his head, "Not anymore."

"Ye mean he's here?"

Aiden nodded, "Dats how I came over ya see, I was part a da group he brought."

Maggie sucked in her breath. "Aiden ye have ta get out. Ye can't be werkin fer him."

"Don't ya tink I've tried Maggie? I'm gonna talk with Patty, I tink he can help. But till den I'm gonna have ta lay low an do as I'm told. I don't want ye mixed up in dis."

Maggie looked over Aidens shoulder, "Jesus Aiden I already am."

"What?"

"Dat man, behind you. I know who he is, an he's one of Mickey's, ye've been followed. An he's seen me."

"Jesus Maggie, I didn't tink dey'de find me so fast. I never ment ta get ye in danger."

Maggie kept her eyes on the man and put a finger to Aiden's lips. "Hush now, I can take care a meself, I had practice dodgin da's creditors. Ye jest be sure ta go home by yer normal route, nothin out a de ordinary. I'll go somewhere else an hide fer a few hours. I'll be fine."

Aiden nodded. "How will I find you?"

"Use Patty, he's better at dis den you are."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true!" She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, then slipped into the alley and disappeared from sight.

Maggie walked fast, and in circles for the better part of a half hour, but whenever she looked over her shoulder, she saw one of Mickey's hired hands. Their brutality was notorious, rumor was Mickey helped them escape from prison, and they'll be sent back or killed if they don't complete their job to satisfaction.

All the more reason for Maggie to walk quickly.

One thing was for certain, she couldn't go back to Duane Street, not tonight. There was no way she was going to lead Mickey's nose toward the Lodging House. She knew what the man could do. Her father had gambled his life away in Dublin taverns after her mother's death. He had been so crushed he didn't care when he ended up owing money to the underground. But they didn't come after Charlie O'Rourke, they came after his children. They would follow Maggie and her two little brothers, Sean and Daniel, all over the city, scaring them. Sometimes more. Maggie had a scar across her right arm from the time the thugs had used a knife to persuade them to force their father to pay up.

Yes, if it was one thing all that had taught her, it was that you didn't let those people anywhere near the ones you loved. And Maggie didn't intend to.

Maggie's wandering had taken her to the far east side of the island. What the hell, she thought, staring across the river, it's just as easy to get lost in Brooklyn as in Manhattan, and it's farther from home. She set out across the bridge.

"Well, well what do we have- you!"

Maggie's head whipped around, the voice, it was familiar...She glanced back over her shoulder, her shadow was still there, a little closer.

"Hey, you deah! Come 'ere, we ain't finished!"

Maggie didn't have time for this. A fight would be an easy way for the thug to overtake her, and a scuffle with this boy might pull him into the whole mess. She had only one option left, and her pride screamed as she decided she had to take it

She ran; as fast and as hard as she could. She shot past Spot, although not in time to miss his stick clipping her across the shins, she kept going. Spot followed her, idiot, but there was nothing that could be done. She glanced back, and saw her tail sprinting through the crowd. He had longer legs, and was going to overtake her in a matter of moments. She ducked away from the river into an alley, kicking trash cans over behind her to block the pursuit. She burst out into the street, ran a block, and darted back down another alley, back towards the water. If she could hop onto a boat, or lose him in the bridge traffic... *BAM* She slammed into someone. She pushed herself off to keep on going, but the someone wasn't letting go. She looked up, damn. It was the pink suspendered boy from the other night. She really didn't need this. She fought against his grasp, but he was strong. Maggie was used to that though, and Patty had taught her how to slip out of the flimsy hold he had on her. But no sooner had she broke free than another boy stood in her way, and another. About five of them in all, and clearly none was interested in letting her go.

Maggie looked beyond them, where was the shadow? She couldn't find him. Either he had become a better hider, or she had lost him. For now. And if she stayed out here in the open, he was just going to find her. She had to get out of sight. She turned back to the boy.

"All right, you win. But if ya intend ta do anytin udder den let me go, can we please go somewhere a little more private please? Fer reasons a mine own, I don't really want ta be seen right now."

Spot stared at her. Something was strange. This was the same girl who had laughed out loud during the fight last night, but now, when she was barely being touched..what was it? Then he realized: she was afraid, really afraid. What was the girl so terrified of? And why was she darting her gaze around like that? Whatever the cause, she was skittish as a racehorse right now, he'd never get anything out of her.

He stared at her, hard. "If I take youse somewheres hidden, an I let all dese boys go, I need your solemn woid dat you won't run." Maggie nodded, spit on her hand, and held it out. Spot sealed the spitshake, nodded to the boys to depart, and with a hand firmly on Maggie's arm, pulled her towards a tenement building, up the fire escape, to the roof.

"Dis is de most private I can do." Maggie looked around warily, then, satisfied, she turned to Spot.

"All right. If ye want ta threaten or fight or whatever its fine, jest as long as we do it here."

Spot couldn't figure it out. This girl was bizarre, but he knew he didn't want to fight, although that had been kinda fun last night. He just wanted to find out who she was, and what she was doing sneaking around his docks.

Spot stuck out his hand, "Spot, Spot Conlon, greatest most powerful newsie in New Yawk." Maggie grinned, amused at Spots modest opinion of himself. She shook his hand, "Maggie, Maggie O'Rourke, newsie and rum runner fer O'Connor's pub. Its a pleasure, really."

Now it was Spot's turn to grin. "Wait a sec, youse," he looked her up and down, "youse is a newsie?"

Maggie just nodded, "Dats right, live in da Duane Street house in Manhattan."

"Well dat explains it, only Jacky-boy coulda-" The look she was giving him made Spot a tad uncomfortable, so he stopped before he said something he would regret. It only lasted a minute, and she was back to staring at people down on the street, trying to find someone. Crazy, he thought, only Jack woulda toined outa newsie like dis.

"Hey, a I hate ta ask ya dis, but dis is my territory an I gotta know, did ya steal dat alcohol you was bringin in last night?"

If she'd been closer she would have slapped him in the face, as it was, her face just grew dark and angry, but she held on to her temper, not wanting to attract attention from below.

"No," she said in a voice that was too soft and controlled, "I didn't steal it. I bought it."

Spot didn't believe her. "Whats a little thing like you need with two cases a dat stuff, you trowin a party?"

Maggie clenched her fists, don't make a scene now. "If its any ayer business, which I doubt, I bought it because dats my job. I werk at a pub, an we needed more liquor, so I went an I bought some. Do ye have a problem with dat?"

Spot gave her a look, "Deys sendin a goil ta buy dem beah? Dat don't sound-"

"Dey sent me because none of dem have da bargaining skills ta get god prices, or da contacts ta get quality merchandise, an dats all I'm goin ta say on da subject."

Spot backed of for a minute, but he had more questions. He perched himself on the edge and looked over, den back at Maggie. "So if youse didn't steal anytin, whose you runnin from?'

"Dats none of yer business an ye wouldn't want ta know anyway."

Spot hopped off the ledge and moved toward her, "Oh, but it is my business ya see. I got Jacky-boy draggin scum from all over da city, an no doubt da woild, inta my territory. I ain't gonna stand fer dat. I'm da leaduh around here, an its my job ta get all dat pollution outta Brooklyn."

Now, in his little speech, Spot had meant the "scum" and "pollution" to refer to the thugs that were chasing Maggie. But the "scum form all over the city and the world" part resonated in Maggie's ears. She'd been called that often enough. Her fists clenched tighter, and no matter how she told herself to calm down, all she saw was red. She wasn't going to O'Conner's tonight anyway, not with that shadow still lurking. So why stay, there were plenty of hiding places in Manhattan, just as many as here.

She advanced slowly, till she was right at the edge of the roof, nose to nose with Spot. "After all of yer kindly hospitality, I'd hate ta inconvenience ya in anyway. So I'll jest take me scummy, polluted arse an get back where I belong. Dats what you want, isn't it? I tot so, dats what you all want. Well ye aren't goin ta get rid o me like a rat, I choose where I go an no one else. Don't bother lookin fer me at da Lodgin' House either, I can't go home, it ain't safe, not here or der. An yer right, dis place is polluted, an full of scum," she stared right at Spot as she said this, "an fer da sakea keepin yer precious territory clean, I'm leavin." And with that, she jumped off the roof.

She had seen the wagon full of rugs and carpets earlier, and landed right on top of it, with little or no bruises. She leaped off it at a run, never giving Spot a backward glance.

"Wait!" Spot called, "I didn't mean-" by now she was too far away to hear him. He turned toward the fire escape muttering, "I didn't mean you."

"Hey Jackey-boy, we need ta tawk." Jack looked up as Spot came into Tibby's. It was the beginning of the lunch hour and newsies were filtering in. Jack raised his eyebrows and shoved over in the booth, Spot dropped into it. He grabbed a glass of water, not caring whose, and drank it down in one gulp. He finished and turned to Jack and David, who was sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

"Listen Jack, we gots a woikin relationship, an I tot we coulds all respect dat. So why is you sendin youse newsies inta Brooklyn? I tot we-"

"Hold on Spot. Wadda ya mean I'm sendin kids inta Brooklyn. I ain't doin dat. All myse newsies stay on Manhattan, like we agreed."

"Den how comes I gots Manhattan newsies assaultin my shores by night an day?"

Jack and David looked at each other, confused. "What?"

"Its very simple Jack. You ain't doin your job. Last night I got in a tumble wiv some goil from Manhattan sneakin two crates a Perelli inta my territory, an she won't pay da tax. An dis mornin, I got da same goil slippin over da bridge, wid papes, an ta boot she's got some wacko followin her, so now I gots ta be on me guard fer dose guys too. Can't ye control yer own Jack?"

David interrupted, "Spot, Jack can't be responsible for what one newsie is doing on their own, at least not when he doesn't even know they're going to Brooklyn. Since when has going to Brooklyn be a crime?"

Mush's voice floated over from the next booth, "Yeah, its only a crime a bad taste!" Spot threw a salt shaker at him.

David rolled his eyes and went on. "Spot, did the girl actually sell any papers while she was in Brooklyn?"

Spot thought for a moment, "Well, no, come ta tink of it, she was too busy runnin from dis big guy. No she didn't sell anytin."

"Den she wasn't breakin da contract." Jack said. "Ya know newsies enough dat date people in Brooklyn, an deys nevuh had a problem goin over der. I tink youse is just over reactin Spot, have sometin ta eat."

David looked a little more concerned, he turned to Jack. "Jack, if one of the newsies is running from someone, shouldn't we know who it is so we can help them? Maybe have them sell with someone else, somewhere else." Jack nodded.

"Spot, can you tell me which one of da goils it was?" He motioned to the news girls sitting in booths and tables around the room.

Spot shook his head. "She ain't heah Jack. She told me so, sometin about it not bein safe ta go home. Den she ran off, I ain't got a clue where she is."

Jack looked around the room hard, "David, who'se missin?"

Just as they began to scan the room, Lacey came in the door. She looked very concerned. She immediately crossed the room to a table with the rest of her friends, Emma, Kats, Gloria, and little Annie. She talked rapidly, using her hands, sometimes slipping into Italian, but the girls all understood, and looked concerned. They got up and spread out, going around to tables, asking questions. The disappointed looks on there faces made it clear they weren't getting the answers they hoped for.

Lacey came over to the booth next to Jack's, where Mush, Kid Blink, and Racetrack were eating.

Racetrack piped up as soon as he saw Lacey come over. "So, whats goin on goygeous?" But unlike normally, Lacey wasn't returning Race's flirting.

"Have any a you seen Maggie taday?"

"I tot she sold wid you?"

"She did-does, dats just da problem. I was on one side a da street an she was on de other, an the next thing I know she's gone. I looked all over da kitchen, all over da west side an part of mid town, niente" She snapped her fingers to emphasize the point.

Spot leaned over the back of the booth and stared at Lacey. "Did you say da goil you was lookin for was named Maggie?"

"Have you seen her?"

"Well, I met a Maggie. She was rude, loud, insultin' and a helluva runner. Sound like da right one?"

Jack leaned into the table, "If this was Maggie we may have more than we bargained for. Dat goil has a bad habit a gettin herself into trouble."

Lacey sat down in their booth, her large dark eyes focused on Spot. "Ya better tell me da whole story."

By the time Spot was done, the rest of Maggie's "family"; Emma, Kats, Gloria, and Annie, had pulled up chairs or crammed into booths to hear. When he finished, they all looked at each other. It was as if they could communicate without speaking. Lacey thanked Spot curtly and they all got up to leave.

"Wait!" David called, "Where are you going?"

Gloria called back, "If anyone can find her in this city we can." David slipped out of the booth and joined them.

"Then I'm coming with you." Emma shrugged, "As long as you can keep up." And with that they all exited Tibby's and took off down the street.

It was late, very late. They had stopped by the Lodging House a few hours ago to drop off Annie, who had been falling asleep on her feet. Spot had left for Brooklyn with orders to tell them immediately if he saw Maggie, and he went off muttering about being a slave to Jack.

They had searched every place imaginable with no luck. They decided to split up about half an hour ago, and David was on his own. He found himself on the Lower East side, near the docks, and decided to check one last place before he went home.

The boxcar was still there, oddly enough. He figured it would have been torn off the tracks by now. He tried the door, it was shut tight. He almost gave it up and went home, but he noticed a bucket of fresh water by the door. Some one was inside. He knocked on the door, but received no answer. He kept trying to pull it open, but the door was stuck fast.

"I tink it must ha rusted shut. Dats why I had ta sleep on da roof." He jerked his head up to see Maggie peering back at him over the edge. "What can I do fer ya dis evenin David?"

"Why didn't you come back to the House? The girls have been looking all over for you."

Concern crept over Maggie's face. "I wanted ta leave ward, but I couldn't risk comin back ta da house so soon. Tell dem not ta worry, I'll be fine. I'll see 'em tomorrow mornin."

David stared up at her, straining to see her in the faint light. "Maggie, what's going on? Spot said someone was chasing you in Brooklyn today." There was a pause.

"So ye met dat arrogant little bastard did ya?" David smiled, it wasn't the first time someone had said that about Spot.

"Actually, I've know him quite awhile, and your description isn't all that inaccurate. But you didn't answer my question."

Another pause, "David, I'll be all right tanite, I promise. If ya still need ta know tomorrow I'll tell ya, but right know I'm tired an I want ta go ta sleep."

David thought a moment, then took off his coat and threw it up to her. "What's dis?"

"My coat, you'll be a lot more comfortable tonight if you have it."

"I don't want your charity David, I'm fine-"

"Think of it as insurance. If you have my coat, them you have to come back and return it soon." He heard her chuckle.

"Never made you out ta be a swindler David Jacobs. I'll see ya in de mornin, I promise. Don't ferget ta let dem know at da Lodgin House dat I'm all right."

David promised and turned to walk back home.

True to her word, Maggie was back at the distribution center early the next morning. She was met with anxious looks and hugs from her friends, but she never really told anyone what had happened. What she did tell them was that she needed to sell alone today.

"Like hell you is." She turned over her shoulder to see Jack standing over her.

"I'll sell wid who I please Jack, an taday I have ta sell by meself."

"You had da whole house woiked up ovah wheah you was last night, an youse is responsible fer gettin Spot Conlon on me case as well- By da way, what is dis about you pickin a fight wid him?- In any case, da least youse can do is give us some piece a mind, let one a da guys sell wid ya."

"First of all, he picked a fight wid me, an he's jest sore because he lost. Second, if I could ha got ward to ya I would hav, but I couldn't. An tird, dis is bigger den anytin you've dealt wid Jack. Dis concerns people from a part a dis city ya don't know anytin about. Ye'de jest put me in danger, any a ya would."

She looked around at the faces gathered about. Jack look like a landed fish, most of the boys just looked confused, but Emma was nodding. She understood sometimes where Maggie went, she couldn't follow. It was the same with Lacey when she was calling on her 'other family', sometimes you had to do things on your own.

David picked that moment to run up. "Hey Jack! Maggie I-" he stopped seeing the blank stares and noting the silence.

"Here's yer jacket David, tanks." Maggie took the moment to toss David coat, which he caught numbly, and push through the crowd and down the street.

"Where's she going?"

David ran down the street after Maggie, and quickly fell into step with her. She turned to him, 'An jest what in de warld do ya tink yer doin?"

David shrugged, but he wasn't smiling. "Well, Jack just stormed off cursing, none of the girls will talk like, its there under some kind of oath, and no one else has a clue whats going on. So if I'm going to find it out, it'll have to be from you. And your going to tell me."

Maggie stared at him, "I don't have ta tell ya anytin."

David's face was cold. "You're right, you don't. But do I have to remind you that there is a whole house full of people back there that care about you? That Annie didn't sleep last night because she was afraid you'de been put in another factory and weren't coming back? That Race and Mush didn't come home till dawn, and this time they weren't out at the track or the poker hall. They were out looking for you. Because your one of us. Whether you like it or not when you join us you're part of a family, and we look out for each other. Right now I ought to be selling papers, but I am trotting after you, because all we can figure out is that you are in some sort of trouble, but you won't turn to us for help. If you really have to take care of this on your own and you know you can, fine. Go ahead! Do it! But give them the consideration of letting them know whats going on. Because you have people that worry when you don't come home at night. And you have people that'll be crushed if you don't come home again. So think about that, all right?"

With that, David stopped and turned around. Maggie stopped and stared after him. If ye could only understand David. I have ta do dis because I do care. Dis is de only way I can keep all of ye safe. I'm sorry.

Maggie took her papers down to the Lower East side that day to sell. She decided staying a good distance from the Kitchen was a smart plan. She had sold a bunch to ferry goers and tourists, and was done a little after lunch. Seeing as Tibby's was out of the question, she decided to head over to O'Conners and start the afternoon shift.

She crossed the bridge cautiously, watching both behind her, for any tails, and in front, in case that bastard of a newsie Spot decided to show his ugly face. Fortunately she managed to cross without any problems, but she took a long route to O'Conner's, just in case she was followed.

She had never been to O'Connor's in the afternoon before, and the place was altogether too clean. The tables hadn't yet been pushed back for dancing and fighting, there wasn't any sawdust down yet, and the bar was sparkling. It was a completely different atmosphere.

"Maggie! Maggie my love! Come 'ere won't ya. Jest sit on me lap a bit, show us why we were all mad ta leave Ireland behind."

Maggie grinned at the cat calls, but the same clientele. Glancing at the old men in the corner table, Maggie wondered if they ever went home. She smiled and went into the back room, where Douglas was puzzling over the account books. He was startled to hear someone enter the room, but relaxed when he realized it was Maggie.

"Jesus, I thought ye were Bernadette. Sweet Bridgett, I love da woman, but she'll be tha deah o me yet jest ye wait!" He paused, scratching his beard, "What are ya doin here so early girl? Yer shift don't start till-"

"I know Douglas. Did anyone, by chance, come in here lookin fer me taday?

Douglas looked thoughtful and rubbed his beard. "Come ta tink of it, a tall gentleman, wid a dark coat an peculiar manner came in bout an hour ago askin fer ya. Told him ye wouldn't be in till later, an would he care ta leave a note."

"Well, did he?"

"No, he did talk wit Colin a bit do, better ta ask him."

He hadn't finished his sentence before Maggie was out the door and into the kitchen

Maggie found Colin peeling potatoes in the back near the fire. She sat down on the hearth next to him, grabbing a knife and a spud and began to work "Colin, did anyone ask fer me taday?"

Colin, a tall, lanky boy with dark hair and green eyes looked at her uncharacteristic seriousness. "Aye, Patty came lookin fer ya around noon."

Maggie's head shot up, an she nearly cut herself with the knife in her surprise. "Watch yerself!" Colin warned. Maggie nodded and went back to work.

"So," she tried to keep the tone light, "jest what did he have ta say fer himself?"

Colin looked around for a moment and lowered his voice, "He wanted ta talk wit ya about somebody named Aiden. Said dat he's sorry about dat, an not ta worry, he'd take care a everytin."

Maggie didn't relax, "When Patty takes care o tings, people get hert. I jest hope dey both use der heads." Colin sighed and peeled his potato, "especially since Patty don't have much o one in da first place." That made Maggie smile, and for the rest of the afternoon they sat peeling and telling jokes, until Marcus came in to say that drinks needed to be served and that Maggie had a visitor.

Maggie hadn't realized that so much time had passed. It was dark outside and the main room was filling up when she came out of the kitchen. It was so full she couldn't even see the door. And getting to it took some time since every table between the back of the room and the front had to stop her to greet her and order their drinks. She broke free breathless, slamming a pad full of drink orders onto the bar in front of Douglas, that was when she saw David.

A puzzled smile came over her face as she waved to him and he came over. She gave him a hug and then hoped backwards onto the bar. "I don't meanta be rude David, but what are ye doin here?"

David grinned and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, not to put too fine a point on things, Jack wanted someone to keep an eye on you. And Lacey said that you'de most likely be here."

Maggie made to protest, "I can take-" David cut her off

"Care of yourself thank you very much. I know, I know. Don't get all defensive." he grinned devilishly and leaned against the bar, "Actually, we were more worried you might hurt somebody, or burn down a building. You have a nasty habit of doing that when you get mad you know." Maggie made a face and threw a dish towel at him. "See? See? You've got one hell of a temper there, and mighty vicious too!"

"You have no idea." Maggie turned to scowl at the new voice. Douglas was standing behind her, an unopened bottle of gin in his hand. "Why don'tcha intraduce me ta yer friend Half Pint?"

Maggie grinned. "Douglas, dis is David Jacobs, he sells newspapers in Manhattan. David, dis is Douglas O'Connor, owner and manager of dis fine establishment."

Douglas held out his massive paw, "Any friend a Maggie's is a friend a mine. Welcome ta O'Connor's lad." David smiled, a bit taken aback by the large man, and shook his hand, "Pleased to meet you sir."

Douglas nodded, and turned to Maggie, holding out the bottle. "As much as I love ye lass, we got patrons ta serve and Colin won't be out ta help till Marcus comes back from buying da beer, so you have a full room ta werk." Maggie nodded, and turned apologetically to David.

"I'm afraid he's right. Will ye be all right here if I go and take care a tings?" She inclined her head toward the crowded room. David nodded, and at that moment, Douglas leaned over Maggie's shoulder.

"Ya know girl, if yer friend ain't doin anytin, we could always use a pair 'o hands in da kitchen." Maggie swatted him with the dish towel.

"Ye keep yer mouth shut, he ain't here ta work for you!" She grinned mischievously, "If ye really need the help I could run upstairs an call Bernadette..."

"Bite you tongue girl! Fine, fine, I jest tot it might keep the boy from gettin bored."

"You thought it would be a quick way to get some cheep labor, admit it!"

At this point David butted in, "If you need the help I wouldn't mind-"

"There ya see? I told you he wouldn't mind!" Maggie shot Douglas a look, and he retreated to the other end of the bar, grinning and chuckling to himself.

Maggie turned back to David, "ye don't have ta, but if ye want da kitchen's back der. Colin's in der an he probably could use a hand dryin da dishes."

David shrugged, "I don't mind. Beats sitting here lookin like a bodyguard." Maggie smiled, of all the newsies, David was the last one she'd expect to be a bodyguard. She led David into the kitchen and introduced him to Colin. The two were laughing and joking when the door shut behind her.

"So, how long have you know Maggie?" Colin was up to his elbows in wash water, scrubbing while David dried. David finished wiping the last glass and reach for another.

"Not all that long. She and her friends turned up at out distribution center a couple of months ago, just after Christmas."

Colin nodded, and smiled as he said, "So what do ye think of her?"

David shrugged, "To tell the truth, don't know her very well. See, I live at home, not at the Lodging House, so I don't see her as often as the others. And since she's always working here, I don't see her much at Tibby's either."

Colin nodded, "I know what ya ,mean, dat girl doesn't leave much time fer lazin about. I can hardly get her ta take a shift off, she's hell bent on saving enough money to bring whats left of her family here. If it weren't fer dancin she'd work herself from dawn till dusk."

David cast a strange look at Colin, "Dancing? Maggie...dances?" It just didn't seem to fit, but Colin nodded enthusiastically.

"She and I have a sort of runnin competition as ta who's the best. But ya have to remember, Maggie spent most of her childhood sittin around in pubs, keeping an eye on her da. She learned all sorts a things in der, an one of em was how ta dance, and dance well. She's the reigning champ around here, an we have a competition every couple a months for Irish from all over New Yark. Anyways, all ya have ta do is get da band ta play one of her favorites or a real fast jig or a reel and she's gone. Only t'ing I know of dat Maggie enjays more den cursin' is dat." Colin smiled, "Dat was actually part 'a da' reason dat-"

Colin was cut off by the sound of a table crashing to the floor and glasses shattering. "Jesus Mary an Joseph! Ye would 'tink de'yed wait a couple a hours before goin' at it!" With this ripped off his apron, wiping his hand on the back of his pants as he burst out through the swinging kitchen doors, a bewildered David right behind him.

In the middle of the room a table had been knocked over and chairs were strewn everywhere. In the middle of the rucus two men were rolling on the floor trying to hit each other. They were easily as big as Douglas, and the man himself was trying to separate them. Colin ran into the thick of it to assist him, but it wasn't much use. David saw Maggie standing to one side shaking her head, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Then, raising her hands to the sky she walked over to the stairs and shouted something. Moments later a wiry woman with jet black hair pulled back in a tight bun with a few wisps of white came down the stairs. Maggie pointed to the rucus and the two of them strode up to the fight with dark, glacial expressions on their faces. Neither were very tall, so Maggie stood on one table and the woman stepped up on the chair next to her. They looked at each other, and Maggie made a half bow, motioning with her arms for the woman to go first. The woman nodded in acknowledgment, and turned back to the fight. No one had noticed her presence.

Yet. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!" It did not seem possible that such a huge sound that filled the entire room, carrying over the din of the brawl, could come from such a little woman. The men, all of them, froze.

The woman began again. "As if it ain't bad enough on me poor weary soul dat I 'have ta live with da thot' dat my husband owns a pub. Dat I have ta listen to da god awful rantin' an ravin' from dawn till dusk. But Lord, ye don't seem ta 'tink dat's enough punishment for me sins, so ye send me dese boys. Dese foolish rowdy godless souls dat tear me 'home apart? What have I done Lord? What have I done ta deserve dis? Why..." The woman buried her head in her hands, winking and nodding to Maggie to continue.

Maggie stared in utter disgust and disapproval at the two men at her feet. She just stared at them for a moment, then said ever so softy, "Shamus...Dermot...what do ye have ta say fer yourselves? Eh? Look at what you've done to dis poor woman, look" She pointed at the woman who still held her head in her hands, occasionally lifting it to talk to pray to the ceiling. "What has Bernadette ever done ta either a you? She's cooked yer meals an served yer gin? An 'how many 'tings has she agreed not ta tell yer wives? Hmm? Shamus, do ye really want Mary ta know about da time yer were so drunk ye went into da Haggerty's house an fell asleep in da kitchen? An Dermot, how do ya 'tink Karen will react when she heard yer not always at Saturday evenin' mass, but here instead? Bernadette has done so much fer both a ya, an look how ye treat her. Oh ye should be ashamed, ashamed, ashamed. Satan is heatin his pokers for ye, ya heartless bastards!

A this point both Dermot and Shamus were very worried

"Aw Maggie, we meant no harm, honest. Please don't tell Mary, I promise it won't happen again."

"Ye know we'd never do anytin' ta hurt ya on purpose Bernadette, please don't mention dis ta Karen!"

A small smile crept over Maggie's face. "Very well, yer forgiven. But yer gonna sweep an mop and clean up dis mess, I'm not gonna get stuck here at another horrible hour because a your shenanigans. Now apologize ta Bernadette an get on wid it."

The men quickly rose to their feet and practically groveled in front of Bernadette, who was doing a fine job dredging up tears. Then Maggie helped her off the table and pretended to support the distraught woman as far as the stairs. They passed Douglas, who gave his wife a kiss and a knowing smile, and the two could barely reach the stairs before they burst into laughter.

Colin was laughing so hard there were tears coming out of his eyes, he stumbled backward against the wall next the David, bent over. "Look at 'em! Dey don't have da combined body weight a one a dose two an still dey put da fear a god in 'em! It gets me every time!"

David looked at him, incredulous, "You mean they do this all the time?"

That sent Colin into another fit. He managed to speak after a few seconds, still chuckling and wiping tears out of his eyes, "Are ye kiddin? Douglas hired her cause she had a mouth like a sewer an wouldn't think twice about shootin' it off to the customers! Its saved me an him a couple thousand black eyes!"

David couldn't help but grin, especially watching Maggie standing over the men making sure they cleaned up, like a queen, except for when she was throwing drinks in peoples faces and wiping up the bar.

They had just finished righting the room when the door burst open and Patty rushed into the room. Maggie dropped her dishtowel and ran over to where he stopped, out of breath, leaning against the doorframe. He took her aside and talked to her in a low voice. Neither Colin or David could make out what was said, but it wasn't more than a minute before Maggies eyes flew open wide in alarm. She hopped over the bar, grabbed her coat, and was out the door at such speed Patty could barely follow her. David made to go after her, but both Douglas and Colin grabbed him.

"Ye can't do anytin' ta help lad. Where Patty's takin her its likely only she an Patty will get through. We've all tried ta help. But now I'm afraid all we can do is wait." David looked up at Douglas to protest, but he saw the frustration and concern that was in his eyes mirrored in those of Colin and Douglas. Indeed, everyone in the room looked a bit uneasy. If none of them could help her, it was unlikely that he would; and especially not in Brooklyn.

"What do ye mean he took yer bleedin' advice? What did ye tell him?" Maggie barely looked back at Patty as she ran along the side streets and back allies of East New York, not far from Canarsie.

Patty was panting, and used a faint gesture to their right to indicate to Maggie which way to go. "Jesus Maggie I don't know..I didn't tink he was gonna do dis. I thought he was tryin ta work his way up I never thought he'd try ta pull out so quick. I told him who I went to when I wanted outta Mickey's business. An he jest took off, didn't listen. Fer Christ's sake Maggie, I had to beat the life outta the Wringer ta get me freedom, an he dished out almost as much as he took. If Aiden isn't tinking straight-"

"He's never tinking straight. And he's gotten worse since he realized he pulled me into it, he wanted out as fast as he could. Damnit! Why did he have ta have sucha think skull?"

"He's a Murphy, his father was exactly the same way, god rest his soul."

"Well his son's goin ta end up jest like him if we don't-" Patty clamped his hand over her mouth. He pointed across the street to an abandoned factory, dingy and green with chipped and rusted paint.

"We're here, dats where he went in, or so de old boy netwerk told me." Maggie nodded.

"Ye stay here Patty."

"Are ye outta yer bloody mind? What can you do in der?"

"I can slip in trew da windows easier den you can, an if anyone has ta come to da rescue, I'd rather have it be you rescuin me den de other way around." Patty nodded.

He pointed to a door down the ally. "Dats da back room, if he's not be'in questioned in the main room dey'de trow him in der. Careful now girl." Maggie gave his hand a squeeze and crept across the street and into the ally.

The ally was dark, and the light from the streetlamp barely illuminated the dingy gray door. There was a window just above her head, wide enough for her to squeeze through. She carefully balanced on top of two empty crates stacked on top of each other. She lifted the window open and threw her leg over the sill, then another, then slid through, dropping softly to the floor in a crouch.

There was light filtering through the crack underneath another door on the opposite wall. It didn't provide much, but that and the light from the window cast vague shadows of objects. Maggie sucked in her breath as she recognized an object by the door, Aiden.

She crept over to him, "Aiden?...Aiden? Wake up Aiden, please!" She shook him gently, he started to shout but she covered his mouth with her hand. "It's Maggie Aiden, hush!"

"Maggie?...What are ye doin here?" Aiden sat up stiffly and rubbed his head, Maggie couldn't tell what had happened but his head looked pretty banged up.

"I came ta fetch ya, what else? Its about time fer da singin contest down at O'Connor's an dey got tired a waitin fer ya." She forced a smile, and Aiden tried to return it.

Maggie gestured to the window, "So I figure dats da best way ta get us out, the other door is chained an locked on both sides." Aiden struggled to stand, "Dats goin ta take a little work."

"All the more reason fer us ta start quickly, before anyone comes back." A look of fear flickered across Aiden's face. He got to his feet quickly and surveyed the window.

"Looks like one of us'll have ta boost de other an den the other'll have ta pull dem-"

He froze at the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming down the hall. "Maggie!" He whispered, "hide! Yer not supposed ta be here!"

Maggie was already by the window, "Come on Aiden we can make it!"

"Go!"

"Without you? Have ye lost what little part a yer brain ye have?"

"Maggie!"

Just then the door burst open and a large man with a stick and ring of keys in his hand stood framed in the light from the doorway. Maggie and Aiden's faces were both caught in the glow.

"And who the hell are you? Nevermind, yer comin along den. The Wringer wants another few words with you Murphy," he turned from Aiden to rake his eyes up and down Maggie's form, "And I'm sure we can find some use for your little friend."

Maggie tried to dart but the man had her about the waist, and he kept Aiden moving along with threats and prods in the kidneys.

He usherd them harshly across the vast empty floor of what used to be a cannery, and into the office at the far end. Inside the smoke-filled room was a wiry man of average height sitting behind a desk. Maggie could only guess that this was The Wringer.

The Wringer leaned back and took a puff of his cigar, his eyes focusing on Maggie. "And who is this?" His voice hissed like a snake. He gestured for the goon to bring her closer, and a punch in the kidneys sent Maggie stumbling toward the desk.

"Found her tryin ta bust our Murphy sir. Thought you might like ta see her."

"Hmmm, yes, very nice. A little dirty, but if we clean her up she could fetch a fine price."

Maggie spit in his face. The Wringer automatically drew back his hand and gave Maggie such a fierce backhand blow she fell to the floor in a sprawl. Her father's pocket watch fell out of her coat pocket.

The Wringer saw it and snapped his fingers, "Bring that here, perhaps I can sell that too."

The goon picked it up and placed it in his outstretched hand. The thin, scaly hands turned the watch over and over again. "Why does this look so familiar..." he rubbed away some of the tarnish on the back, enough to read the name "Frances O'Rourke" Maggie's grandfather.

"O'Rourke...Charlie O'Rourke! The god damn Irishman who couldn't pay his debts. The one that died and still didn't leave enough!" He smiled cruelly at Maggie on the floor. "So nice of you to return to pay your debt Miss O'Rourke, I'm sure Mr. Flynn is much obliged to you. Now you can pay right along with your friend."

When Maggie awoke she was bound hand and foot, and she hurt more than she could ever remember. More than the caning in the factory, more than the beating with the Kat, this was a deep throbbing pain. Her right shoulder was on fire, but the majority of the pain seemed to come from bruises, at least she wouldn't have too many more scars.

It was the memory of what the men had done to amused themselves once Aiden passed out and she was the only one conscious that made her want to throw up. She had never felt so powerless in all her life as she had when they were playing their little "games". She tried to shut the memory out but still it came.

Focus girl, she thought to herself, get yerself out of here an deal with dat later. She looked around for Aiden, and saw him still crumpled on the floor. He had lost a lot more blood then she, and she didn't know how much he had lost before she came. She had to get them out of here. They'd been left for dead, that she knew. There was no reason to keep either one alive, she'd heard that much discussed between the Wringer and his goons before she blacked out.

Please God don't let dem try ta burn dis place down, I can't take another fire. Maggie grimly remembered how every other situation in her life was tied to fire somehow. She cursed up a storm getting to her feet, and hopped over to a broken pane of glass, using it to cut her bonds.

Of course, if they just disappeared, it wouldn't be long until they came looking for them again. Maggie sighed, one way or another, the building would probably end up a bit singed. Just enough to overcome the two unfortunate individuals inside. She though to herself. She didn't have long to brood when she heard footsteps. She crouched behind a crate with the glass in her hand, waiting to jump a goon or the Wringer. She jumped on Patty instead.

"Patty! What in da world?"

Patty managed a tight smile. "I'm sorry it took so long darlin. But seein as you were probably out cold, I took da liberty a getting some supplies." He opened a bag containing a long fuse, several beer bottles, a bottle of whisky, and a small barrel of gunpowder. "Wha do ye 'tink we can cook up with dis stuff?" Maggie actually grinned.

About half an hour later they were done. The abandoned building had been full of enough flammable material to keep a small fire going, enough to create billows of smoke that would lead to the "death" of two individuals. Patty was taking care of that detail, something about how not only Blackpool and Flynn could pay off cops and reporters. So Aiden lit the fuse and Maggie and Patty hurled the Maltov cocktails through the windows, and the three took off down the street.

A very tired Maggie trudged through the door of O'Connor's, helping an equally tired Patty carry a very unconscious Aiden into the room and lay him down on the floor. Bernadette O'Connor was already tending to him before Maggie and Patty could pull away. Maggie just sat down and pulled Aiden's head into her lap, stroking his hair as Douglas' wife took care of the wounds that were bleeding.

Patty stayed until it was certain Aiden was out of the woods, then he whispered a goodbye to Maggie and slipped out into the night.

Maggie didn't leave her friend's side until all of Bernadette's work was done. Aiden had come to an hour before and assured her he wasn't going anywhere. Maggie stayed with him a little longer, but when pearly pink rays started to glimmer across the horizon, she decided she had better head home. Patty had assured her his "whispering" network would have had news out three hours ago that the bodies of a young boy and girl were taken from the building and immediately cremated and placed in a potter's field, no one would be looking for her.

Wearily, she got to her feet, bid goodbye to the O'Connor's and started down the street. She hadn't moved more than twelve feet before she got dizzy, the world spun, she began to sway...

David caught her before she fell, scooping her into his arms with an uncanny feeling of deja voo. He smiled to himself as he set off toward the bridge.

He hadn't gotten far before a voice called out "You!" He looked around to see Spot Conlon marching down the street, pointing at him.

"What do you want Spot?"

"I don't want anytin ta do wid you Mouth, its dat little witch!"

David looked down at the bundle in his arms, "Spot, I don't really think this is the time to talk to her about that..."

"Aww shut up David. Dat goil is notin but troubles. Whats a mattah wid hoir dat she can't walk into my territory and not burn down a buildin, huh? And don't boddah telling me dat ain't her handiwoik south a Bushwick. Its god damn nearly right next ta da last place she boind ta da ground. Well, go boin down Manhattan from now on will yas? Dis place is crawlin wid da bulls now, how am I supposed ta carry on business?"

Maggie had woken up during all this. She wiggled out of David's arms and got shakily to her feet. "All right," she muttered through half closed eyes, "Come on, take yer best shot."

Spot looked at her, "Whatta you tawkin about?"

Maggie gave a sigh, "If ye wanna fight, den come on, lets go. If yer jest goin ta run yer mouth den wait till later I'm too tired at da moment. What'll it be?"

Spot just looked at her, then threw up his hands. "I can't get no respect in my own territory. All right I'm lettin you off on dis one, but dis ain't over Irish, I promise."

Maggie was already asleep. "Have a nice day Spot!" David called to him too cheerfully as he took off with his burden down the street.

David reached the Lodging House just before the full sun broke through. Fortunately, Kloppman was awake, and he silently admitted David and pointed him up to the girls' room.

David pushed the door open with his toes, and carried Maggie to her bed, gently lifting her onto her top bunk. He took her shoes and coat off, grimacing at the bruises on her arms, legs, and face. He softly pulled the sheets over her and tucked them in. He smiled as he looked down on her, you would never tell from her serene face that she was such a spitfire when she was awake. He noticed the open window and decided not to go back down and disturb the whole house. He silently bent over Maggie and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then began to slip out onto the fire escape.

"Good night David, an tanks fer everyting."

David's head shot up, had Maggie said that to him or just in her sleep? He shrugged, figuring it must have been a mix of both.

"Sleep well Maggie, try to stay out of trouble." He though he heard a faint laugh as he made his way down towards the street.

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miryum · 2 years

Text

Nickels (Spot Conlon x Reader)- Part 4

Spot pov

"Sister?" I choked, "Yous have a sister? And Y/n is dat sister?" I dragged a hand down my face, "Whats the hell?! Y/n, yous never told me dis!"

"I'se still reelin' from dat Nickels is a goil." Jack's mouth was open and he looked very confused.

"I'se didn' tell yous 'cause yous didn' need ta know." Y/n snarled.

"What else are yous keepin' from me?" I asked, a little hurt.

Y/n glanced over at Emerson really quickly, then back down at the floor. "Stuff dat doesn't concern yous."

"I'se think it does concern me!" My voice was getting louder, but I didn't seem to care.

"Why?!" Y/n stood up, matching my tone, "Why does it concern yous? Youse haven't done anything fo' me!"

"I've done plenty fo' yous and yous know it!" We're only inches apart now, both our chests heaving.

"Emerson." Y/n said, not breaking eye contact with me, "Will yous help Jackie boy wid da strike?"

"Yes." Emerson said immediately.

"Good." Y/n said, "Now, all of yous... Get. Out. Now. Befo' (before) I'se soak ya."

I huffed, but stalked out of the room. Jack and Davey quickly followed.

"What was dat alls about?" Jack asked the second we were out the door, "'Ows exactly did yous an' Nickels meet?"

"It's a long story." I take off my cap, run a hand through my hair, and put it back on.

Davey glanced back at the door, which was now closed, and said in a low tone, "Did you hear Emerson?"

"Whats do yous mean?" I asked, still a little ruffled from the meeting.

"He didn't talk like other newsies do. Like you do. He sounded like he came from a more... proper household. Had an education. No offense." He added quickly. I brushed it off, "I was just wondering who their parents were."

"All I'se 'eard is dat dere mudda died some'ow." I said. "But I'se don't know who dere fader (father) is."

Davey chewed on his bottom lip. "I feel like it's important for some reason."

"I'se wouldn't stress 'bout it too much." Jack clapped Davey on the shoulder, "Now," He turned to me, "Whys didn't yous tell us dat dere was a super 'ot (hot) goil newsies?"

"I promised not to tell!" I defended myself.

"What else are yous keepin' from us?" Jack asked, using my own words against me.

My fists curled into fists, but I took a deep breath. Don't exactly want to get into a fight in the Bronx. The newsies were known for being harsh here. I nodded Jack and Davey out the door of the Bronx lodging house, and found a alley where we could talk.

"Y/n an' I'se met just befo' she became a newsie." I started, sitting down on a crate and Jack and Davey following, "She an' Emerson were new to da streets, an' she was doin' 'er best to keep 'erself an' Emerson alive. Still all dolled up, too. In a long dress an' 'er fancy shoes. Problem was, dat caught a lotta guys attention. Got 'erself backed into a corner one night. Bastard guys 'ittin' (hitting) on 'er. Poor little Emerson came an' tried to defend 'er, but 'e's was only five or six at da time. One guy pulled out a knife and da next ting yous know, little Emmie is on da ground, bleeding out." I stop, realizing I just disclosed Emerson and Y/n's greatest secret. I huff, and move on, "If it weren't fo' 'er screams, I would 'ave never came. Got dere just in time too. Fought off dose guys, brought dem back to da lodging 'ouse, patched Emmie up, and help Y/n into da roll of a newsie. Pulled some strings an' got Emmie to da top of da Bronx, too. Ting was, I'se dought (thought) dat dese were runnin' away togeder 'cause dere families didn't want dem to be's togeder. Didn't know dey were brodder and sister."

"But he's so much younger than her!" Davey protested.

I barked out a laugh, "Didn't look dat way back den. Y/n was much mo' (more) small an' fragile back den. Emmie 'ad been fed well, an' looked decent fo' 'is age. But, I'se guess wit Y/n runnin' around de streets now an' Emmie in bed, da roles are reversed."

"Dat's a mighty long story dere." Jack said, "Impressive."

"And you called Emerson, Emmie. Right?" Davey smiled.

I cursed, "Yous don't tell anyones dat! Got it?" I reached for my pimp cane, then remembered that Y/n had it. I cursed again.

Davey noticed and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything thankfully.

"Wells," Jack stood up, "We's betta be gettin' back ta 'Hattan. Good talkin' ta ya Spot." We spit shook and I then tipped my hat at Davey.

"Bye dere Jackie boy!" I called as he and Davey started walking back.

I started walking back to Brooklyn before I remembered something. I smirked and looked back at the Bronx lodging house.

Y/n still owes me a kiss.

#spot conlon #spot conlon x reader #spot #newsies #newsboys #1898 new york #new york #1898 #jack kelly #davey #x reader

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sarahzstories · 3 years

Text

✨Interview with Princess and Narry✨

✨*A/N This is in the format that Niall, Harry and Princess are having a sit down interview with someone for a magazine. I have a Part 2 ready if you are interested, also feel free to send in questions you want the three of them to answer! Enjoy!*✨

Q: How did you really meet? And when?

Niall: At a Christmas party in New York about what like eight years ago?

Princess: Yeah they crashed my aunt’s party and Harry ran into me and spilled a drink all over me.

Harry: It was an accident and I have apologized several times since it happened.

Princess: That’s true he does apologize every year on our friend-anniversary.

Q: Is there a group chat?

Princess: Yes duh.

Harry: It’s called the Three Amigos.

Niall: I love dat it’s been da same name since we made it eight years ago.

Q: Who is the most annoying in the group chat?

Harry: Me

Niall: For sure Harry. He’s da bloody worst at sending incomplete thoughts instead of just thinking about what he’s tryin ta say and sending one long paragraph.

Princess: He just tells us things as they pop into his head is all. It’s not annoying.

Niall: She’s jus sayin dat cos she’s nice.

Harry: No she’s saying that because she does the same thing just not as much as I do. Remember that time she was trying to tell us she ran into Orlando Bloom at Starbucks?

Niall: Bloody hell that was such a shit show of a text conversation.

Princess: I was star struck! I couldn’t form complete sentences!

Q: What are yours names in each other’s phones?

Niall: Harry is jus saved as H an Princess is saved as Princess wit da crown emoji an a heart.

Harry: Niall is the Irish One in my phone and Princess is Bestfriend and it has a sparkle and heart emoji next to it.

Niall: *rolls eyes*

Princess: Oh Harry is saved under Little Lanky Baby with a red heart and Niall is My Little Irish Marshmallow with a clover emoji.

Harry: What? Are you serious?

Niall: Have Ya never noticed our contact names when she sends screenshots?

Harry: I’m not lanky?

Niall: Are ya havin a laugh mate? Yer arse is lanky.

Princess: You really are and that’s okay! Everyone loves it!

Harry: I don’t know how I feel about this...

Princess: You’ll survive.

Q: When do you three actually become as close as you are now? Was it instant?

Harry: I think it was maybe a month after we met. We got really close very fast because we talked all the time.

Niall: I agree, it was pretty fast we jus clicked and I think it was like after a month or so that we invited her to a show and after dat it was like we knew each other fo ever.

Princess: Texting and talking on the phone really helped speed up the getting to know you process. They’ve had a key to my apartment since like six months after knowing them. We all just meshed really well and it’s been great.

Q: Have you ever been in a fight? If so what was it about?

Niall: Oh god...

Harry: Yes. One fight and I don’t like to talk about it. But it was about my debut album details getting out before I was ready.

Princess: He’s so sensitive about this subject but yeah only one so far and it only lasted like three days so wasn’t too bad.

Harry: Wasn’t too bad? It was horrible. We didn’t speak for 72 hours.

Niall: It was all a misunderstanding type thing cos Harry over reacted and got mean and then just didn’t know how to fix it.

Princess: He didn’t overreact. He was right to be mad at me.

Harry: I’m not getting into this.

Niall: It’s been years mate let it go it’s okay you got upset at her, no friendship is perfect, even ours.

Harry: You wanna talk about how you also got mad at her the same day? Or no?

Niall: Jesus Yer in a mood today, m’fine talkin bout our little fight cos it only lasted a day and it was cos I blew things outta proportion.

Princess: Once again it’s fine we are allowed to be upset with each other. Next question?

Harry: Yes. Let’s move on.

Q: Is jealously an issue between the three of you?

Niall: *looks at Harry*

Princess: *also looks at Harry*

Harry: Excuse me, may I help you two with something?

Princess: Wanna talk about getting jealous?

Harry: I don’t get jealous.

Niall: Are ya fuckin jokin? Yer arse is the reason why we have ta have a group calendar so no one gets more one on one time than the other Ya knob!

Harry: That has nothing to do with being jealous. I like to be organized with my time that’s all.

Princess: That’s all? You sure?

Harry: I’m sure.

Princess: So it’s not because one time you realized Niall and I had seen each other three times in one week without you?

Harry: I mean three times in a week is a lot.

Niall: Yer ridiculous mate jus admit ya get jealous whenever P hangs out wit anyone besides you.

Harry: I’m choosing not to respond to that.

Q: Who’s the most protective?

Princess: It’s a toss up between the two of them.

Harry: I’d say i get more protective while Niall is the first to want to fight anyone who makes P feel uncomfortable or makes her cry. But I’m the one who wants to just prevent it at all costs.

Niall: what he means is he would rather P never leave da bloody house.

Harry: It would make it easier...

Princess: I get protective over them as well though!

Harry: *looks at Niall*

Niall:*looks at Harry*

Princess: What? Remember that time I yelled at that man who was trying to take pictures of us at the beach?

Niall: I mean yer right, ya can get protective an are always the first ta tell paps to fuck off.

Harry: She can be very ferocious when she wants to be.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: Both of you are assholes.

Harry: I didn’t say anything!

Q: Was it easier being friends when Niall and Harry were both in the same band?

Princess: Yes I mean it wasn’t as chaotic trying to figure out what dates work best to see who but also it was a whole different type of chaos when I’d go visit them while they were in One Direction.

Niall: Ya it was wild as hell when she’d come cos we were literally always doin somethin fo tha band either all five of us or dey would separate us into groups and it would be Harry and I and the rest of da boys and we would be shootin promo or even recordin a bloody album!

Harry: It was always her getting shoved in a backseat with us in a car or getting little fifteen minutes breaks to talk and actually see each other between whatever the hell we had to do the days she was on tour with us.

Princess: But the shows were so much fun, but I’d honestly say getting to visit them while on their solo tours is better than when they were in One Direction simply because they get more down time and it’s not always go go go like it was back then.

Niall: I agree, when we get to the venues of our shows we don’t have ten thousand things ta do before the show so we get to chill and hang out.

Harry: It’s really such a different world going on tour now than it was when we toured with One Direction.

Princess: But I honestly would put up with the craziness of visiting them while in One Direction still if I had to.

Niall: Is she-

Harry: Hinting that she wants a One Direction reunion tour? Yes.

Princess: What? That’s not what I meant.

Harry: Mhm...right.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: *rolls eyes*

Q: Okay but really who do you enjoy hanging out with more?

Niall: *looks at Princess*

Harry: Hmm...

Princess: Is this just a question for me? *raises an eyebrow*

Harry: I have the most fun with Princess.

Niall: Same. Harry makes me wanna smack em upside da head too much when it’s jus tha two of us.

Harry: I could say the same thing about you, you little hobbit.

Princess: I don’t have a favorite. I get asked this all the time on my Instagram and I feel like no one believes me? But I truly don’t have a favorite to hang out with and actually like it when it’s all three of us together.

Q: How do you deal with dating while being so close to the boys? Does it get weird?

Harry: Threats. Lots of threats.

Niall: Oh please we aren’t tha most threatenin set of blokes H. It doesn’t get weird tho cos P doesn’t really date do ya Princess?

Princess: I go on dates yes, I haven’t been in a serious relationship is a while but it’s not weird, everyone I talk to knows I’m friends with Niall and Harry.

Harry: I’d like to think we have more than just a regular friendship...

Princess: I mean yes it’s a bit different. But I let them know before it even gets to us going on dates that the two of them are a massive part of my life.

Niall: Same goes fo us though, I tell the people m’interested in bout P and the fact she’s one of the main people in my life and most of em are fine wit it.

Harry: Everyone who knows me knows about my relationship with Princess and knows that nothing comes before it. She will always come first, like it or not.

Princess: He is so dramatic i swear he makes it sound like I’m the only person in his life that he’s like this with, it’s the same with his family. Not just me.

Niall: Harry is dramatic though but it’s true, everyone that even tries ta get wit H knows three things for sure and it’s that he loves a good Gucci suit, loves his family and his friendship with Princess is untouchable.

Harry: Oh now who sounds dramatic?

Princess: We are going to be single forever aren’t we?

Niall: We could do one of dem packs about getting married if we are single when we are thirty.

Harry: I’d rather not marry you when I’m thirty that’s when I’ll just be starting to thrive.

Niall: Oi! Then when? Ya wanna be so old ya won’t enjoy it?

Harry: You’ll enjoy it no matter the age it happens you knob.

Princess: How about sixty? Still young, I mean look at Bruce he is thriving!

Harry: *rolls eyes* you’ve been dying to bring up Bruce Willis haven’t you?

Niall: Deal.

Harry: I guess I can agree to that.

Q: Favorite thing about each other?

Niall: I’d have to say I enjoy Harry’s opinions, he doesn’t sugar coat em he knows I don’t like all that fake ass stuff so he tells it to me straight.

Harry: You’re quite welcome for always telling you when you’re being an asshole.

Niall: Ya gotta ruin every moment don’t ya? Anyways I’d say my favorite thing bout Princess would be...her ability to jus know what I need and when I need it.

Harry: It’s kind of freaky how she does that though right? The texts are the creepiest.

Niall: Right? Like when she can jus sense ya’ve had a bad day so she sends ya Dis heartwarming text and yer jus like how the bloody fuck did she know??

Princess: I just know you both so well! I can’t help it.

Harry: It’s great love, we love it.

Niall: doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

Princess: Well I’d say my favorite thing about Niall is that he has this ability to make everyone around him instantly feel comfortable and like at home if that makes any sense?

Harry: I can agree, he’s very good at making everyone around him feel at ease.

Princess: And my favorite thing about Harry is he has this weird way of knowing how you need to be comforted. Like he knows when to just hold your hand, when to pull you in for a hug or just when you grab you and hold you. It’s lovely.

Niall: Ah yeah dis is so true. Always tryin ta hug me.

Harry: Well I don’t see you fighting me off.

Niall: Oi yer arse didn’t answer what yer fave things are bout us, do ya not have one?

Harry: I love Niall’s sense of humor, we both have the same type of lame humor and laugh at the stupidest stuff. My favorite thing about Princess is probably how she just gets me and lets me be me.

Princess: *sniffles* Can we move on?

Niall: Way ta go got er all watery eyed now.

Harry: I’m not the one who asked the question! I just answered it. You got her all emotional too you knob.

Q: Have you written any songs about your friendship?

Niall: Yeah Harry have we?

Harry: *rolls eyes* yes.

Princess: Go on, just tell them.

Niall: Yeah H jus tell em. Get it off yer chest.

Harry: You’re in such a mood today. Fine. I wrote meet me in the hallway about when Princess and I had a fight.

Niall: And...

Harry: I wrote Adore You with her in mind about her effect on the people around her. That she has no clue she has.

Princess: What about you Niall?

Harry: Yes hobbit what about you hmmm?

Niall: I wrote the Tide while thinking about her when she was datin that one arsehole.

Harry: And?

Niall: Fine you arse I also wrote Mirrors about her as well.

Harry: Oh and if you’re wondering about One Direction songs the main one we wrote about our friendship is Drag Me Down.

Niall: S’pretty obvious though, s’fo her and da whole fandom really.

Princess: That is my hype song. So damn good.

Q: What’s a memory the three of you cherish?

Princess: Oh that’s a good one!

Niall: S’gotta be when we all went ta Cabo fo a week like three years ago and we jus laid in the sun by the beach all day and got drunk off wine at night an it was one of tha most relaxing vacations I’ve ever had.

Harry: That was a great trip.

Princess: Mine is when we had our first sleepover at my tiny ass New York apartment. When we did face masks and ended up passing out on my bed watching Will and Grace. I think that next morning is when I really realized you two were going to literally be my humans forever.

Harry: Oh the good ole days of our sleepovers and trying to squeeze onto your loveseat. Mine is the time when Niall and I had to go get you from the bar when you got too drunk on a Monday night.

Princess: That’s your most cherished memory? Really?

Harry: Yes, because that was the first time you ever used us as your like emergency contact and the first time we had to come save you. You weren’t super wasted, Niall and I just had to make sure you got home safe and it was nice because you kept telling us how much you loved us.

Niall: Now we always gotta come save er, member that one time we had ta crash her date wit dat golf dude?

Princess: Oh god

Harry: That was fun! He was a proper dick.

Princess: Next question?

Q: This is the last one, who said I love you first out of the three of you?

Princess: It was Niall

Harry: I know everyone is gonna be shocked to hear it wasn’t me.

Niall: I mean yeah it was me. M’not ashamed of it. I was tellin P bye and was like love ya and she said love you too Ni and then Harry got all mushy an was like, what did ya say H?

Princess: He said and I quote “if we are saying we love each other I want to be involved because I love you too!”

Harry: Sounds about right.

Niall: That was like what three months into the friendship?

Harry: Yeah five or take a few weeks.

Princess: Now we say it all the time!

Harry: So that’s it then yeah?

Interviewer: Yeah that’s it! Thank you so much for your time this was so fun.

Niall: It was fun gettin ta hear what people wanna know bout the three of us. Hope it wasn’t borin.

Princess: Us boring? Never.

#life with narry #interview #niall horan #harry styles #narry #harry styles imagine #niall horan imagine #narry imagine #my little irish marshmallow #my little lanky baby

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

The Elimination Chamber (Becky Lynch x Reader)

@becky-lynch89 Request: The reader is one of the opponents during the Elimination Chamber, Shayna ends up seriously injuring the reader, causing Becky to invade the cell and attack Shayna. Becky ends up taking care of the reader in the end.

At the sight of blood, Becky’s music hit, Shayna turning towards the ramp with wide horrified eyes.

Your brows furrowed as you leaned back against the cage, blood streaming from your face.

The medical staff was nearby, though they couldn’t get to you within the chamber, Becky was about to change that.

“Becky...” You mumble under your breath, picking up your head to look up the ramp at your angry girlfriend, your angry girlfriend who’s currently carrying a sledgehammer.

Shayna is in a complete trance, turning her attention away from you and to your girlfriend who is currently slamming the sledgehammer against the side of the cage near the pod you’d just been released from.

You wince, grimacing as the blood running down your face enters your eye, your teeth clenched in pain.

Becky meanwhile is hammering on the side of the cage still, the wall about to give way, much like it had in the earlier match when Otis ran through the cell.

A particularly hard slam with the sledgehammer and the wall caves in the WWE Universe screaming as Becky kicks it in and crawls into the ring.

Shayna races towards her, but before she can even take a swing she’s getting knocked in the stomach by the head of the sledgehammer, a hard kick to the head sending her flat on the floor of the cell.

Becky rushes towards you, kneeling down in front of you with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N can ya hear me?” She asks and you nod, tiredly.

“Shit, yer arm.”

You glance down, gasping when you realize your arm is contorted at an unnatural angle that tells you it’s broken.

“You bitch.” Becky growls, turning back to Shayna, but it’s now you realize you, Becky and Shayna aren’t the only ones in the chamber, the medical staff had entered through the door unlocked by the refs, Triple H too making his way down the ramp to get to you and Becky.

You can feel yourself about to lose consciousness, your voice slurring as you try to get Becky's attention, but the woman is too busy trying to get passed Triple H to get to Shayna.

“Bec... Becky...” You murmur, the woman dropping down beside you just as you lose consciousness.

***

“DON’T TELL ME TA CALM DOWN, DAT BITCH BROKE HER ARM.”

The sound of yelling penetrates your ears and your brows furrow in pain.

“Be-Becky...?” You mumble and the yelling ceases, seconds later your feel Becky’s hand resting on your own.

“Y/N, lie still yer in da hospital.” She whispers and you grimace.

“What happened?” You ask, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Ya don’t remember?” Becky asks and you shake your head.

Becky’s lip curls in a snarl as she turns to, who you now see, is Triple H the man taking a deep breath.

“Wat kind of place are ya runnin’ at NXT? Ya just let your wrestlers do whatever dey want!?” Becky growls, but you stop her by grabbing her wrist.

“It’s not his fault.” You rasp, but Becky only shakes her head.

“It is if he doesn’t do something bout’ it.” She growls and Triple H nods.

“It’ll be taken care of Becky. It will. But for right now all I’m worried about is Y/N’s well-being.”

Becky gives him another glare before turning to you with a sad frown.

“Why the hell is my arm in a cast?” You ask, lifting your arm, your wide eyes darting between Triple H and Becky.

“She broke yer arm.” Becky frowns, taking your hand and gently placing her other hand on your casted arm.

“Ya got a pretty bad gash above yer eye too... Da doctors are keepin ya overnight.” Becky turns to glare at one of the nurses who’d just come in. “And if anyone thinks I’m leavin ya, dey got another thing comin.”

The nurse’s eyes widen as you chuckle.

“Stop scaring everyone.” You mumble, the Raw Women’s Champion shaking her head.

“I’ll scare anyone where yer concerned.” Becky grumbles and you yawn, giving her hand a squeeze.

“It’s alright...” You mumble tiredly, turning to Triple H who makes his way towards the bed with a frown.

“We’ll discuss what repercussions Shayna will be facing for her actions in the Chamber at a later date, but for now, you need to rest.”

Becky’s brown orbs are focused on the man, the woman’s mouth dropping open to what you guess, yell at him some more, but she stops when you squeeze her hand.

“There’s brutality and then there’s this.” You say sadly and Triple H nods.

“I’ll be coming back to check on you in the morning, get some rest.”

Triple H gives Becky a nod before leaving the room, the Irishwoman snarling angrily.

“At a later date my ass.” She grumbles and you can’t help but laugh, the woman’s head whipping back around to look at you.

“She should be fired now Y/N, look at ya.” She frowns sadly, her eyes darting to your broken arm and sliced eyebrow.

“She’ll have to pay Becks, I don’t know how, but she will.”

Becky slowly nods, ducking down to kiss your lips, a kiss you tenderly return.

“I’ll be ere ta take care of ya, no matter what.” She whispers, kissing your lips again before she kisses your forehead and you smile.

“I know you will, just don’t try to kill anyone else.” You smirk and Becky shrugs, rolling her eyes.

“No promises.”

#wwe #wwe imagine #becky lynch #becky lynch x reader #becky lynch imagine

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harrywavycurly · 4 years

Text

*a/n this is the fourth installment of the Hiday Series! I hope y’all enjoy and so sorry it took me so long to update this story! Please as always tell me your thoughts!*

“This place is,” You looked around the pub and smiled as you saw all the green and gold lights strung all over. “Very festive.” You heats Gina snicker from behind you as the two of you made your way towards the bar that was decked out in St. Patrick’s Day decorations.

“Well it is an Irish pub so I assume it looks something like this year round.” Gina explained as the two of you took the last empty seats at the end of the bar. “How’d you find this place?” She asked as she waved down the bartender with a smile.

“Yelp.” You answered with a shrug making Gina laugh because of course you picked a bar to spend St. Patrick’s Day in off of Yelp, you did always like to go off of the opinions of others. “It said it had great-“ You were in the middle of giving Gina your explanation of why you picked this bar out of the others that had great reviews when a hand slammed down onto the bar next to your arm.

“Pint O’Guinness an a shot of Jameson please Sammy.” You felt your eyes go wide as a very familiar thick Irish accent flooded your ears. “Eh might as well make it two, save me a tri-“ You went tense as Niall suddenly stopped speaking and Gina’s face broke out into what you knew was a very fake smile as she looked to your left. “Gina? The bloody hell ya doin here?” He asked just as his drinks were placed in front of him making your nose crinkle as you looked at his two pints of Guinness.

“Uh we found it on Yelp.” Gina explained with a smile as she motioned towards you making Niall look down and if you knew any better you’d say you saw his mouth twitch as if he wanted to smile as you looked over at him.

“It has great reviews.” You added making Niall laugh as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“This place? Great reviews? Must’ve all been written by ole Sammy boy em’self cos dis place ain’t nothin but a hole in da wall.” Niall smiled as he placed his card onto the bar before looking down at you and that’s when you noticed his flushed cheeks and how his eyes were a bit glossy. “But it’s close ta my house an Sam is known to be liberal when makin drinks so it does da trick.” He shot the bartender a playful smirk making him just shake his head as he walked towards the end of the bar where you were sat at.

“Are you drunk?” You asked making Niall laugh and Gina give your arm a light smack causing you to just shoot her playful glare as you shrugged.

“Not yet m’workin on it tho, don’t ya worry.” Niall answered as the bartender took his card and headed for the register. “Keep it open Sam! An get these lovely ladies whatever dey want.” Gina smiled and gave you a little nudge as she wiggled her eyebrows making you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take a whiskey sour,” Gina ordered and then turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. “The usual?” You nodded at her making Niall chuckle at the fact Gina knew your go too drink. “She’ll have a double vodka with water.” You smiled as Sam just nodded his head and typed in the orders before turning to get started on them.

“Vodka water? What are you an eighty year old nan?” Niall teased as he picked up one of his pints of Guinness and took a giant swing of it causing your nose to crinkle making Niall give you and odd look as he sat the glass down on the bar. “Problem love?” You felt your cheeks get warm as the pet name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly and you had to remind yourself that he called everyone that.

“I just like it,” You explained with a shrug before you pointed at the dark brown ale in his now half empty pint glass. “Now that stuff I don’t know how you drink it.” You watched him smile before he took another gulp making the corners of your mouth turn down.

“He’s Irish, loving Guinness is built into their genetics or something.” Gina teased as Sam places your vodka water down in front or you and Gina’s whiskey sour in front of her making her smile as she picked it up and took a sip.

“True, can’t call yerself Irish if tha thought of a nice pint of Guinness doesn’t get yer blood pumpin an yer heart racin.” You laughed at Niall as he spoke making him grin at the sound of your laughter. You watched as Niall picked up his shot glass and turned around so he was facing the rest of the bar and raised it up. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day everybody!”He shouted making the whole bar just cheer in response causing you and Gina to laugh as he downed the shot before turning back around and placing the empty glass onto the bar.

“You come here often?” Gina asked after she took a sip of her drink while Niall looked around and offered a smile to a few people as they walked passed making you feel as if Niall was indeed a regular here.

“Eh only bout once or twice a week when m’in town.” He responded as he looked down at you while you sipped on your drink. “Ya fancy sittin at tha bar all night or you lot wanna join me at a table?” You looked over at Gina who just shrugged making you roll your eyes at the fact you were left to make the decision.You just grabbed your purse and your drink after you slid off the barstool, Niall quickly finished off his beer so he only had to grab one glass off the bar before turning so he could lead you and Gina towards the back of the bar to a table by the window.

“So how’s uh Nate?” You felt your eyes go wide as Gina almost choked on a sip of her drink when Niall broke the comfortable silence the three of you had been sitting in for the past few minutes since getting comfortable at the table. “Dats his name right? Sorry m’shit wit names.” Niall added as he gripped his glass and looked down at the table to avoid making eye contact with you.

“Uh I guess he’s good? Wouldn’t really know.” You answered quietly making Niall just nod his head while he all of a sudden became very much aware of just how close you were to him, so close in fact that he could smell the sweet scent of the perfume you were wearing. “He seems happy at work so I’d say he was doing good.” You added with a small smile before taking a big sip of your drink.

“You two aren’t uh like datin er anythin?” Niall asked as he rubbed at the back of his neck with one of his hands while the other one held a firm grip on his glass.

“So Niall why are you alone tonight hmm? Melanie couldn’t join you in celebrating your Irish roots?” Gina asked in the most sarcastic tone she could muster making Niall’s jaw clench at the mention of Melanie’s name.

“Haven’t seen her fo a few weeks. She’s probably off somewhere with er new boy toy.” Niall shrugged before taking a big gulp of his beer while you just bit down on your lip trying to hide your smile as Gina just nodded her head and finished off her drink. “Feelin another shot, you two down fo a shot?” You and Gina nodded and Niall smiled as he got up from the table and headed to the bar to grab three shots.

“S’like I don’t wanna work fo ever ya know? I wanna retire an be fat n happy on a golf course s’mwhere on an island.” Niall slurred making you erupt into a fit of giggles, a few hours and quite a few shots had passed since you and Gina entered the pub and now the three of you were well on your way to being completely drunk.

“On an island? Niall just go back home to Ireland! It’s an island!” You teased making Niall laugh as he placed his arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll be back, gonna grab us some waters.” Gina explained before getting up and shooting you a not so subtle wink as she made her way to the bar.

“M’sorry ya know?” You looked up at Niall as he stared down at you with a serious look on his face. “I didn’t mean any of it. S’jus I didn’t know what ta say so I said some stupid shit an I hurt yer feelins.” You looked away from him as he spoke, afraid that if you looked at him you’d loose all control and end up doing something reckless.

“It’s fine, we both said stupid stuff and it’s okay. All is forgiven.” You reassured him with a smile as you finally looked up at him as you felt him pulling you a little closer to him.

“We’re okay then yeah?” He asked and you giggled as a few stands of his hair fell and before you could stop yourself you reached up and brushed them back making Niall smile.

“Yeah we’re okay.” You answered with a smile as Niall slowly started leaning in closer to you making your heart being to race as he inched even closer.

“Waters all around! Drink up bitches, I don’t feel like carrying anyone besides myself home.” Gina shouted as she placed three glasses of water down onto the table making Niall instantly sit up straight and your cheeks to flush as you turned to look at Gina. “Oh sorry boss, didn’t mean the whole bitch thing.” She added with a shrug before she looked from Niall to you with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks Gina.” You ignored her questioning look as you reached for a glass of water while Niall just laughed as he scooted out of the booth making you frown a bit.

“S’been fun ladies but m’sorry I’ve gotta go,” Niall opened his arms so he could give Gina a hug before turning and looking at you with a grin. “It was a pleasure.” He added as you stood up so you could give him a hug goodbye.

“See you Monday.” You smiled as he leaned down and placed a quick kiss to your cheek while you gave him a squeeze making him laugh as you let him go.

“Oh I won’t be in the office fo a bit, meetings across the pond an all tha boring stuff.” You raised an eyebrow at him as he reached over in the booth and grabbed his jacket. You had written all his meetings down for the month and none of them involved him leaving the country, you would’ve surely remembered that.

“Oh okay we’ll see you when you get back.” You gave him a fake smile as he slipped on his jacket, Gina took Niall’s spot in the booth and took a giant sip of her water.

“G’night loves.” He turned and took a step towards the door before looking back over his shoulder at you with a wink and a smile making your cheeks get hot as you watched him walk away.

“Oh honey,” You turned and looked at Gina with a goofy smile making her laugh and shake her head. “You’ve got it bad.” You rolled your eyes as you plopped down next to her in the booth.

“I do not.” You slurred making Gina just laugh even more as she slid a glass of water towards you. “He’s just cute s’all.” With that you just began drinking your water with a silly little smile on your face as you replayed the events of the night in your head.

“Yup he’s cute, now drink up so you don’t totally hate yourself in the morning.” You just waved Gina off as she finished her glass of water while you continued to slowly sip on yours.

Niall still had a smile plastered onto his face as he got home from the bar only with a few stumbling instances on the walk home. He couldn’t believe his luck, of all the pubs in the city you walked into the one down the street from his house. If Niall was truly being honest with himself he would have to admit that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have a conversation like the ones he just had with you after the way he talked to you at Valentine’s Day, but over the past few weeks and multiple awkward attempts to start a casual conversation with you at work by the coffee machine or the copier he’d say this was amazing progress. The fact he got to apologize and got to hear you say everything was okay made him smile as he thought about the possibilities going forward and all it took was an Irish holiday.

#the holiday series #niall horan #niall horan au #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan x reader #niall horan imagine #niall horan slow burn #one direction fanfiction #one direction fluff #one direction blurb #slow burn #my little irish marshmallow #my writing #st patricks day

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justjessame · 4 years

Text

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 6

I woke sandwiched between two literally hot Irishmen. Murphy, still as naked as me, had turned onto his left side and had us pressed chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. My head was cushioned on his upper arm and his hand curled around to rest on my shoulder. Connor, curved into my naked back, had clearly stripped to his boxers while I slept since I could feel his naked chest hot against my back. His left hand held my hip, and while the sun still hadn’t risen yet, I could feel at least one part of him and his brother that had.

The light from the streetlamps allowed me to study Murphy in his sleep. I fought against the urge to touch the sweetness of his sleeping face. So innocent in rest, almost childlike. I bit my lip, drinking him in, when I felt Connor’s lips on my shoulder. A kiss, a flick of his hot tongue against my skin, and I pressed back against him.

“Yer awake?” He breathed against me. I gave a small nod, not wanting to disturb Murphy. “Come ‘ere,” he ordered, still just as quiet. I was afraid to move, afraid of waking Murphy. “‘E sleeps like da dead.” He chuckled, rolling me over to his side of the bed as he sat up on his knees. “Tink it’s my tern now.”

I was on my back, looking up at him in the soft glow of the dim light. Saints, I realized, seeing the halo of light making him almost glow incandescently. I barely had the time to think about it, because he lowered himself and claimed my mouth. My hands moved to touch him. His shoulders, his arms, down his back, I lost myself in him, his kiss and his skin.

“Ya, ready for me, Tess?” He breathed against my lips. I swallowed and nodded. I felt him shove his underwear down and then we were joined. I arched up into him and he moaned. “Yer killin’ me, Tessa.”

He managed to roll us over and keep us linked. I sat up, my hands pressing into his abdomen, and rolled my hips. I gasped at the feeling, my eyes closing. I felt his rough hands move from my hips, along my sides until they finally reached my breasts.

“Murphy was right. Yer fuckin’ beautiful.” He snapped his hips up, thrusting into me hard. “Ye like dat, don ya?” He set a maddening pace, hard, deep, and fast. “Nah gonna make yer beg, nah dis time a’ leas’.” He kept thrusting, and talking, good Lord could the mouth on him. “Gonna give ya exactly wha ya need.”

“Yes,” I managed to hiss, as I rode him while he kept that wonderful pace.

“Take ‘is ‘and, Tess.” He ordered, knowing I needed the touch of them both. “Take it.” He urged. And I managed to finally lean forward and find Murphy’s hand.

“Oh,” I moaned as my first orgasm rushed through me. “Don’t stop, Connor, don’t fucking stop!” I begged, as though he needed my pleas. He kept pounding up into me. My forehead found his and we stared into one another’s eyes as his rough thumb found my clit and I came undone again.

“Dat’s right,” he groaned, thrusting harder as his own orgasm roared out of him. He moaned, moving to hold my head in place. We were panting as he started to soften inside me. I fell forward, weak, my face pressed against Mother Mary. Catching our breath, letting our heartbeats calm, he held me and I felt him kiss my temple.

I chuckled and released my tight grip on Murphy’s hand, even though he didn’t seem to notice. Still sleeping peacefully, Jesus, I wondered how he managed to ignore the bed movement and our noises. Connor asked what was funny and I answered. “We never seem to get around to foreplay, do we?”

I felt the rumble of his own laughter. “Bein’ round ya is foreplay for us.” He gave a soft chuckle into my hair. “We’d probably die if we tried it, from scratch.” I rolled off him, curling my backside against Murphy and facing him when he turned. “Gonna ‘afta wake ‘im.” He sighed. “Need ta shower and get ta Mass.”

A lightbulb went off in my head. “That’s where you two ran off to yesterday.” It was a statement, but he nodded. “There’s a spare key for the door in the first drawer you come to in the kitchen.” I whispered, cupping him behind his head. “Take it, please, that way you don’t get the police called on you for breaking OUT of my apartment.” He smiled, and leaned forward to kiss me.

“Ya worried ‘bout us?” He asked, his lips still against mine. “We worry ‘bout ya, too.” He pulled away and I saw the same affection I’d seen in Murphy the night before. “If somethin’ happens to us,” he started and I opened my mouth to argue. “Stop, Tess, let me finish. IF somethin’ happens, we’re gonna leave ya wit our mudder’s number and address. Get ter ‘er? Please? Yer ours, an’ we wan’ ya ta be safe.”

I felt fear clutch my heart. They hadn’t come here to fall in love with me. They’d come for business. A horrible joke that I now knew. I realized that this was their way of making sure it didn’t touch me. Giving me their mother’s information, giving me someone to talk to just in case. I nodded, but felt my face fall at the thought of losing them, either of them or both. It would wreck me.

“Now, luv, don borrow trouble.” Connor warned, kissing me again. “We been fine dis long.” I shook my head. “Dos scars? Does it look like dey stopped us?”

“No, but,” I began, and his finger pressed against my lips to stop me again.

“Don do dat.” He whispered, and I realized he was convincing himself as much as me. “Jus let us luv ya. We’ll keep ya free of da stain o’ wha we do.” His eyes looked so pained, that I relented.

“Leave her information near the phone in the living room.” I whispered, feeling Murphy’s hand moving my hair out of his way so he could kiss my shoulder. “I’ll use it if I have to.” I smiled and pressed back against Murphy. “Thought he was going to have to wake you.” I whispered and felt his lips curl against my skin.

“Got too tense in ‘ere.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses along my back. “Woke up ‘cause Connor ‘s so worried dat I felt it inside.” I nodded. “Glad ‘e ‘ad the conversation, usually ‘e’s too cocky fer ‘is own good.”

I sighed, feeling peaceful despite the worry that was flowing around the three of us. I wouldn’t borrow trouble. I couldn’t let it overwhelm me. And I couldn’t have them worry about me and get hurt. As the sun rose, and Connor went off to shower, I rolled over to kiss Murphy. I would take every moment I had with the two of them and cherish them.

#Connor MacManus X OFC X Murphy MacManus #Boondock Saints 2 #alternative universe #Smut #no twincest

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darkspear-panther · 4 years

Text

Stormy Memories: Part 1

"Ma, pleeeease! All da odeh kids 'ave dese cool stories o' where dey got deir names. Why can't ya tell me 'bout 'im?"

The huntress huffed, trying to her best to get out of the conversation. "Who ya even talkin' bout?"

"Da mon da taught ya ta 'unt?" Raza gulped. She knew it was a sensitive topic, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. She couldn't keep her in the dark forever, right? "Kuzi says she 'eard ya mutterin' 'is name en yar sleep an' I dought-"

"Ya dought wrong, girlie."

"But Ma-"

"Nah anodeh word." Kij'aza growled lowly. "If I 'ear anydin' comin' outta dat moud, ya'll be pickin' all afteh all o' Cego's 'pets', got me?"

"Yah, Ma."

-----

Raza gave each of her siblings a kiss on the forehead, one for Cego and one for Zol. They uttered sweet words to each other, for good dreams and not to let Shadra bite them, before the younger two began to drift off.

Then she made her normal rounds around the hut. Everything seemed to be in place. Kuzi and Chako were staying for a while, a reprieve from their long journey Kuzi had told them, although Raza wasn't quite sure why.

Kuzi and her Ma'da whisper behind closed doors. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but after how angry Ma'd been earlier, Raza didn't take any chances.

So there she found herself at the foot of her own bed. It was quite the comfy spot, with blankets and pillows galore. Even with Cego building her plush cocoon around herself, Raza's favorite quilt and plushie lay waiting for her.

Raza sighed before getting into bed, snuggling up beside her sister.

She didn't know why Ma had been so upset with her. All she wanted was to learn more about the woman that cares for her. Sure, Ma'da talks about all of her cool hunts and the stunts she and her fellow huntresses shared, but there was hardly a peep about what she was like at their age.

All Raza knew was that some of their names -well, hers at least- were from her Ma's past. And Kuzi'd let it slip about last night's incident...but she probably wasn't going to again after the stink eye Ma had given her.

Cotton padded her internal monologue, slowly but surely blurring her thoughts until the worried tuskling could finally sleep.

------

"Raza?"

Raza's eyes snapped open. Yet as she rolled out of bed, she found that she wasn't in bed at all. Instead, sweltering heat pounded at her skin, dried mud against her feet as the smell of another storm loomed over them.

"There ya are, child. I was wondering when ya'd come to."

The eldest child turned towards the voice's source. Although the figure was a mighty thunder lizard, he seemed calm enough to fit with his sweet, low voice. She widened her eyes, bowing towards the figure.

Raza knew to respect the loa, especially when they came to visit.

Akunda chuckled. "So thoughtful! An' to think ya came from yar Ma'da."

"Ya know 'er?"

"Of course." The wise vision mused. "But she wouldn't accept my blessing when I came to her."

Raza's eyes grew so wide she thought they were going to pop out of her head. "Ma denied ya?"

"Bwonsamdi's deal did her no favors."

"She made a deal?"

Akunda furrowed his brow. "She shouldn't have her left her like that. The poor child~"

"Akunda, I-"

"How could he show her that? The little flame wasn't meant to live. Over and over again, she was supposed to die. There weren't supposed to be any memories, nothing like this, nothing so long lasting..."

"What are you talking about?" Raza screamed out her frustrations. "Just tell me!"

The loa looked the child in the eye for a long, awkward moment before his mouth opened.

It was a woman screaming.

Her Ma'da screaming.

( So Raza and her siblings are from the Single Mom!Kij AU, in which this story takes place. However every flashback and memory is canon to Kij's story. @kuzi-the-hunturr for mention! )

#part 1 #it's gonna get dark #poor Kij'aza #and poor Raza

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nadiaofazeroth · 4 years

Text

Expect the Unexpected

Hi all! Decided to write a little follow up piece to the prompt that my glorious friend @airanke did a while back, cause I’m a big weird nerd and couldn’t help myself. You can find the prompt here, and I highly recommend that you check out her other work too!!

Hope you like!

**(CW: blood, descriptions of pain)**

Hours and hours and hours had passed before the Legion had finally ceased their attacks and waves of demons no longer threatened to overwhelm Durotar.

For the time being, at least.

Many of their forces had been sent to clear out the remaining enemies that lurked in the city, while others had been dispatched in companies to check the surrounding areas such as Razor Hill and The Crossroads. There had been losses, more than he would have liked, but from early missives that had been sent immediately following the aftermath it seemed that the Horde and her allies had fared decently given the circumstances.

“Send some troops to scout da Valley o’ Spirits again. I want ta be sure dere ain’t nothin’ we missed,” Vol’jin brushed some of the dust that had been accumulating on his person since yesterday off of his sleeves as he looked out over the city. The ramparts were still structurally sound, albeit would be needing some repairs, and he had wanted to see just how much damage had been done.

“Yes, Warchief!” The lieutenants saluted before marching off to do as ordered, and Vol’jin soon found himself relatively alone save for his few personal guard that remained nearby, ever vigilant. It didn’t last long however, as both Baine and Rokhan emerged from the staircase that led up to the very same spot. He raised a brow a little in their direction; not because he was displeased to see them, he had sent word for them to come, but rather because they had arrived suspiciously fast.

“Dat was quick,” he didn’t miss the strange look that the tauren and troll exchanged each other, but ignored it in favor of more urgent concerns. “Baine, have ya any word on Thunder Bluff?”

The chieftain pressed a fist to his chest lowered his head in greeting, “Like most places, we were hit, but with nothing that cannot be recovered from.”

“Once we be securin’ Orgrimmar, I’ll send some of our own back with ya ta help with anythin’ ya might need.” Baine nodded to show his acknowledgement and thanks, a gesture that Vol’jin returned. His sharp gaze turned to Rokhan; multiple questions were tumbling around in his mind, most regarding a certain mage, but even after the assault was over some things still took precedence, “Any updates on our other efforts?”

“The Valley of Strength be cleared out of any remainin’ demons, an’ it seems dat Bladefist Bay will soon be cleared as well.”

“An’ da Valley of Honor?”

“Saurfang and some sentries went ta assist, but we still be waitin’ on an update.”

“Let me know da second ya hear something,” Vol’jin heaved out a sigh and rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly when his tired muscles contracted. He looked out over the Orgrimmar skyline again, taking in the damaged roofs and spires and the smoke that still rose into the air from a few fires that still needed to be put out. It would take some work to rebuild, and even more effort to prepare for the Legion yet again, but it could be done. It would have to be done.

He turned back to Baine and Rokhan, “An da Underhold? Any news dere?”

There it was again. That look that the two passed between them in a series of quick glances, a certain something in their eyes that the Warchief couldn’t quite place.

“What?” His eyes narrowed, daring either of them to say anything less than the truth.

“Nothing,” Baine said all too quickly, and it seemed that he knew this by the way the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown.

Vol’jin could feel panic begin to bubble up in his chest, his temper rising with each passing second that neither of them said anything, “What happened?”

Before either man could respond, a sentry came sprinting up the stairs behind them. He looked tired and frazzled, and a little bit afraid as he made a beeline directly to Vol’jin. “Ah, Warchief?” he began with a salute after awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Not now,” he ground out through clenched teeth, still waiting for someone to tell him exactly what was going on.

If anything had happened to the Underhold, to all the civilians he’d put there for safety, to...

“You should listen to what he has to say,” Baine commented with an tone of nervousness to his voice while Rokhan scratched his chin awkwardly and looked like the epitome of contrition.

Vol’jin scowled but waved the sentry forward nonetheless, and the poor soldier edged forward anxiously. Baine, now appearing equally guilty as the other shadow hunter, watched as the sentry began whispering something quickly in an impatient Warchief’s ear. He and Rokhan exchanged one final, nervous look before waiting to see their leader’s reaction the news that both of them already knew.

At first, the scowl remained on his face, before it suddenly twisted into alarm, and then confusion, before finally settling on something that was a cross between distress and motion sickness. He opened his mouth to speak, glancing around at all of those gathered as if they could offer some sort of explanation. A choking sound came out instead of words, and before anyone could speak Vol’jin groaned and took off down the stairs.

What happened next was mostly a blur.

He was vaguely aware of the people either talking at him or calling out his name as he walked as quickly as he could towards the main entrance to the Underhold. Running, as desperate as he was to do just that, would only draw more attention to himself and likely have someone try and stop him to ask what was going on.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long until he was standing on the platform elevator that took him lower and lower into the underground stronghold. Rokhan and Baine had followed closely behind him the whole time and stood silently as Vol’jin clenched and unclenched his fists during their descent.

“How did dis happen?”

“It be a bit of a long story.”

“Den give me the short version,” Vol’jin’s voice had an edge to it that didn’t go unnoticed by either companion. He still stared straight ahead and the disturbed expression on his face had yet to fade away.

“We were doing rounds, and she was setting up wards to prevent any legion portals when...well,” Baine was having a hard time trying to find the right words to say, not that even the most perfect phrasing would do anything to improve their Warchief’s mood.

“An’ why was she on rounds and settin’ up wards?”

“She insisted, I’m afraid.”

“Of course she did,” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation just as the lift finally reached its destination at the lowest level. He wasted no time stepping out of the lift and looking about the immediate area desperately for the people he needed to find.

Rokhan stepped out in front and motioned for them to follow, “Dis way.”

The three of them began their second descent deeper and deeper into the Underhold. All of the lit lanterns and candles gave off an eerie light as they passed the former Kor’kron Barracks where large swathes of families and citizens had gathered for shelter from the assault. Sentries still marched back and forth between distributing supplies or heading to the surface to help with the effort there, though at a calmer pace than before.

While a part of him was tempted to stop and check in on his people, the instinctual part of him knew that they were in good hands and that things had settled enough for them to wait. He was thankful that Rokhan kept them in the shadows and out of the public’s view; only a few higher ranked officials spotted them, but they had enough sense to stay out of the way, only going so far as to salute before going back to their duties.

Vol’jin found himself feeling rather strange as the more they walked. The last time they had been here, it had been under much more dire circumstances. Never again did he think that the Horde would ever be faced with the need to make use of this area, not after Hellscream. Yet, here he was again and with almost the exact same companions as last time, though he supposed he could appreciate the irony of the reasons they were going this time around.

It took only a few minutes for them to finally make it to a quieter and more secluded area of the Underhold, though to Vol’jin it had felt like hours. A small area had been specifically set apart from the rest, with tall canvases having been erected for privacy and a few of his own guard lurking close by. Vanira stood nearby, and when she saw him approaching she flashed a very big smile and pressed a closed fist to her chest.

He stopped only a few feet away, suddenly feeling very nervous with his throat having gone completely dry. Amidst the lightheaded feeling overtaking his entire body, a Tauren woman pulled back one of the panels and stepped out. She looked tired, and this made him all the more worried as she approached him.

“Warchief,” she inclined her head with a lopsided smile, her hands folded delicately over her lap.

“You be the one dat helped wit...” Vol’jin suddenly found himself at a loss for words for the third time in the past day. There was movement behind her, and a few attendants walked out from behind the panels too. The Warchief felt his breath hitch at the sight of multiple pieces of cloth that were stained with patches of dark red and strange looking boxes in their arms. One walked by with a covered basin that very clearly had blood streaks around the rim, and he thought for a short moment that he might need to sit down soon.

“I am.” The shaman seemed to notice where his gaze had trailed and offered him a sympathetic smile, “No one said it wasn’t a messy business...but she did spectacularly.”

“She did?”

“Oh, yes. They’re both perfectly fit and healthy.”

“Dey are?”

Some of his worries vanished into nothing as the Tauren’s grin widened and she bowed before she stepped to one side out of his path.

“Would you like to see for yourself?” She asked softly while gesturing to the canvas that was still moved to the side slightly, allowing those who were still on the outside a glimpse of the warm candle light flickering inside.

Vol’jin still had no words but nodded and thanked the healer. He looked back at his advisors, both of who were now grinning like fools, before walking slowly over to where the shaman had pointed. His throat was still dry, and the Warchief found himself gulping like some anxious new recruit on their first day of training as he pulled back one of the hanging canvases and stepped inside.

It was quieter than he expected, and the space was made all the more peaceful by the various candles and lanterns that cast a warm glow on the ground and walls. Not that he gave much note to the ambience, as his attention immediately fell onto the only person in the room.

Nadia was propped up with a few pillows and rolled up blankets on one of the beds that had been provided for those seeking shelter. She looked exhausted and her hair had come almost completely loose from the braid it had been in originally, with some strands sticking to her forehead from sweat.

But she was beaming and her eyes shone with absolute joy, and to him she had never looked more radiant.

She looked up when he walked in, smiling that perfect and proud smile, and it was then that he noticed the small bundle in her arms.

“Hi,” she said, barely above a whisper, as he approached slowly.

“Hey,” Vol’jin was having a hard time trying to decide between staring at Nadia or what she was cradling.

“You’re here,” her voice had a lightness to it like someone who could start laughing at any moment. She tried to sit up more and adjust her position, only for him to rush over to her side at the wince of pain that crossed over her otherwise serene features.

“Don’t.” He lowered himself to one knee and pressed a hand to her shoulder, gently pushing her back down onto the mat, “Don’t.”

Now that Vol’jin was closer, he could clearly see the bundle in his consort’s arms, and all in one moment everything that had happened earlier, everything that had caused him worry and fear, faded away into the background.

The baby was sound asleep, eyes closed and breaths even, swaddled comfortably in Nadia’s embrace as his head rested right between the crook of her arms and her chest. He took his time taking in the child’s every feature, from his feet to his nose to the tips of his tender ears and especially the impressively full head of red hair. His hands where curled up directly under his chin, both so small that the Warchief almost couldn’t believe that he was real. Vol’jin hesitantly placed one hand over Nadia’s as she ran her fingers tenderly over the baby’s arm, and was awestruck at how his son’s skin was so soft and had a color of blue that was an exact replica of his own.

“We all thought you wouldn’t be here for a few more weeks,” Nadia trailed her fingers in delicate little circles, “Gave us all a little shock, didn’t you?”

“How?” This was all that Vol’jin could find himself able to say, and Nadia inclined her gaze upwards to see an utterly dumbfounded look on his face, “I don’t...how did ya...?”

“I didn’t think I would be needing to explain the basics of birth to you, Vol’jin, but if you insist I suppose I can humor you.”

He knew she was teasing him, and if the situation were any different he would have laughed, but for some reason this brought the irritation that had unfurled within him from earlier back all over again. “Dat’s not what I meant, an’ you know it.” His gaze shifted to her and the tone of his voice became a bit sharper, “You were fine earlier. Da healers said dat ya time be a bit of a way off...what da hell happened between then an’ now?”

Nadia bit her lip and glanced away to stare nervously at a lantern in the opposite corner of their space. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, only mad at the circumstances, but that didn’t make it any easier to tell him all that had occurred when he was gone from start to finish.

...

She closed her eyes as she concentrated on finishing her spell. The runes etched themselves out on the tall stone walls at a painfully slow pace, and she could feel Rokhan standing behind her beginning to grow ever more impatient.

“Lady Ravenscroft,” he didn’t say anything more than that, but the message in his pitch was clear.

“Just a moment longer,” her arms strained from being raised for so long, and she sighed in relief when the lines of the runes met and flashed in a rainbow of pinks before vanishing out of sight. She let her arms fall limply to her sides, resting one hand on her swollen belly as the shadowhunter came up to her side.

“We need ta go.”

“Right, yes, uh,” the mage was finding it surprisingly hard to catch her breath, and there was a small point in her back that twinged uncomfortably every other minute, “there’s just one more rune that I need to cast.”

Rokhan snarled in disagreement, “No, no more, dis already be ya fifth. Vol’jin told me ta get you somewhere safe.”

“And that will be anywhere once I finish up the last of the runes,” she was already walking away before he had a chance to respond.

“I’ll make ya a deal,” he stepped out in front of her to keep her from going any further, “if I be gettin’ someone else ta finish da work , will ya please come wit’ me?”

She really wanted to finish what she had started, being very dedicated to making sure that everyone who had come to seek shelter would be in safest place possible, but a cramp in her side reminded her that she had already pushed herself too far for one day. Nadia nodded, and Rokhan breathed out a sigh of relief.

He looked around to get a better idea of just where the mage had dragged him to, apparently some poorly lit nook that was nowhere near where many of the refugees had gathered. They needed to get back to the others, or at least somewhere where people would know where they were. “Come,” he said while turning on his heel, his charge following closely behind, “The Warchief ‘as a space prepared for you.”

“I don’t need any special - oh!”

The same cramp suddenly became much sharper, bordering on pain, and the mage found herself stopped in her path. She stumbled and grasped at the wall for balance, her unexpected cry causing Rokhan to whip around and dash back over to her side.

“You okay?”

“I-I’m fine...I just - ahh!” The cramp escalated into an almost unbearable pain, and Nadia would have fallen to her knees if the shadowhunter hadn’t caught her when she pitched forward.

He studied her intensely, searching for outward signs of an injury or a direct cause for her pain, and then his eyes slowly widened. “E’chuta,” he cursed under his breath as the mage struggled to find hers.

“It’s nothing...I’m okay.”

It was a blatant lie, one that made Rokhan wonder just how long she had been masking her growing discomfort. He bent down slightly until they were at eye level, and he waited until she had collected herself enough and met his gaze to speak.

“Lady Ravenscroft...tell me.” He squeezed her arms slightly and his expression became more pleading, “How long ‘ave dese pains been goin’ on?”

Nadia held his stare, reluctant to say that these cramps had been persistent all day, even before the Legion had started their assault.

“A-a while...”

“...Please tell me ya not - ”

She opened her mouth to admit the truth, but before she could say anything at all, a dripping noise began echoing off of the walls and the feeling of wetness was suddenly very present between her legs.

“Ahhhh, shit.” Rokhan stepped back and looked Nadia up and down, the puddle that had suddenly formed between her feet on the stone ground causing him to throw all sense of calm out the window, “Damn it!”

Her breaths were coming in faster now, and she found herself reaching towards the wall try and find a sense balance. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening...not now, not here.

“Vol’jin is gonna kill me. He’s gonna skin me alive an’ use my pelt ta decorate Grommash Hold,” the shadowhunter looked around frantically, hoping that there was someone nearby who could help. Rokhan cursed again when realizing that they were completely alone and too far away to even call for aid.

He realized, with mounting panic, that he was going to have to go and get someone. Someone who wasn’t him and would actually know what to do.

Nadia’s breathing had continued to grow faster and faster, and she found herself trembling while leaning against the wall for support. Her legs felt like jelly and her heart was beating faster than a war drum. Rokhan heard her gasping for air and returned to her side.

“A’right, okay, ya gonna be fine.” He probably could have come up with something more supportive to say, but it wasn’t like he had been given any time to prepare, “But I gotta...I gotta go get help. Don’t move, try ta relax; I’ll be fast.”

“Only one...only one of those things is going to be easy to do,” Rokhan’s voice brought Nadia out of her stupor, if only for a moment. Her heart was still going a mile a minute, but it was a bit easier to breathe now and the pain was beginning to dull, “I’ll be okay.”

He was very, very reluctant to leave her here alone, but seeing that he had very few options and time was of the essence there wasn’t much of a choice now. Rokhan whispered a quick prayer to the loa, looked over the mage one more time, before dashing away and disappearing into the shadows.

Nadia watched him leave until she couldn’t see him anymore. With a shaky breath, she carefully straightened herself out and shuffled forward. There wasn’t much she could control right now, but she didn’t want to be standing in a puddle of her own fluids. She closed her eyes again, trying to focus on something, anything, to distract her and keep her from losing what little reserve she had left.

Minutes passed, thought they felt like days. The muffled sounds of what could only be cannon fire or a legion attack were easily heard, and they mingled with her strained pants in what would otherwise be dead silence. A sudden explosion, louder than the rest, made the cavern tremble as dust and dirt fell from the ceiling.

“I can’t stay here.” frantic, she leaned most of her body against the wall for support once again while looking around for a place to go. Anywhere would be better, whether it had more light or more people or just anything that didn’t make her feel as utterly alone and afraid as she was now, “I can’t...oh gods.”

Ever since her water had broken, Nadia’s entire body felt sore and aching, and it was taking all of her energy to simply breathe and stay standing. Just as the area’s trembling stopped and debris stopped floating down from above, another wave of sharp pain overtook her being and an overwhelming tightness in her legs and back finally sent her to crumbling her knees.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” she pressed one hand to her lower belly where it now hurt too while the other straddled the ground to keep her from falling over completely. The mage gnashed her teeth together to keep from crying out and dug her nails into her palms until she was sure she’d drawn blood.

Nadia had heard the pain described by others and tried to imagine it before this point, but now that it was actually here the pain was indescribable, and it was all she could do to keep breathing.

“Please...” She found herself saying this in the dark as the worst of it began to stop once more. There were hot tears streaming down her face and they fell from her cheeks onto the cold hard ground. Nadia didn’t even try to wipe them away or stop them from falling, and the cramped feeling in all of her muscles kept her from even attempting to get up again. All she could really do was focus on getting enough air into her lungs.

Never before in her life had Nadia felt so weak and foolish and afraid.

This was all her fault.

If she had just done as she had been told, to go where it was safe, to not do anything stupid...she was so stupid. Stupid enough to find herself shivering and alone in an underground cave, stupid enough to most likely have induced her own labor from her own foolish actions, and so utterly stupid to have put the life of herself and her baby at risk!

All her fault, all her fault, all her fault.

“Please...someone...”

Another contraction began almost as soon as she began to feel reprieve from the last, and this time Nadia didn’t even try to stop the untamed scream that passed from her lips and spiraled off the high and lonely walls of the Underhold.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed before she began to hear shouting, and all of a sudden there were bright lights and loud voices all around her.

“What in the-? Nadia!”

The mage was only vaguely aware of someone coming into her personal space and pressing their hands to her cheeks. She wished that people would stop talking so much, stop calling out her name, and just let her breathe.

Vanira brought her own face closer to Nadia’s to try and get through to her, but she kept her head lowered towards the ground and didn’t even try to open her eyes. The shaman spat out a string of curses before turning an accusatory glare directly at Rokhan, who stood only a few feet away with the others that had been brought, “What da hell did you do?”

“Me?” He seemed almost offended at the idea that he was somehow to blame for this, “I want ta get help!”

“An’ left her alone in the dark an’ in pain!” Vanira scoffed before directing her full attention back to the mage who still remained crumpled on the ground, “Nadia. It be okay, we’re here, we’re here sweet ‘ting. Okay?”

This seemed to finally have some effect as the woman being questioned began nodding and unclenched her hands ever so slightly. Vanira continued saying words of reassurance to the woman who had, over time, become a friend, and did her best to get her breathing steadily; it wouldn’t do anyone any good if she were to faint. Her ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps, and the troll looked up to see Baine, along with some other sentries, round the corner before coming to an abrupt halt at the sight before them.

“By the Earth Mother’s mercy,” the chieftain said out loud, eyes widening at seeing the usually collected and kind mage now half-panting, half-sobbing while huddled in on herself. While the shaman was sure that the woman would have appreciated the show of sympathy, now was certainly not the time.

“We gotta move.” Vanira looked back at Nadia and brought her face closer once more, “We’re gonna go now. Gonna get you somewhere where we can help ya properly an’ get you more comfortable, alright? Think you can walk, Nadia?”

A few seconds passed before the mage whimpered and shook her head ‘no’, clenching her hands into tight fists again. Vanira had highly expected this was the case, and took a deep breath before looking up at the rest of their party.

“Rokhan, go ahead an’ make sure we have enough blankets, water, anythin’ else we might need. Baine, I’m gonna be needin’ you ta carry her, and da rest of you go find any healers ya can an’ bring ‘em ta me.”

Seeing all of these seasoned war veterans staring back at her with near blank expressions after she had very clearly given them tasks almost had Vanira rolling her eyes; men, completely useless.

“Now!” Shouting seemed to do the trick, as all but Baine left to do as told. The gentle Tauren seemed very hesitant to approach Nadia, let alone touch her, most likely in fear of accidentally causing her any more pain than she was already in.

“Apologies, Lady Ravenscroft.” He offered her his hand, letting her decide when she was ready to move. It took a moment, but the mage finally lifted a shaking hand to grasp his, and in one swift motion Baine lifted her into his arms, and he and Vanira began make their way back as quickly as possible.

Nadia did not remember what paths they took, or even the vaguest of details of how she’d been in an empty corridor alone one minute and then was being lowered gently onto a makeshift bed the next. Through her haze, she could see people rushing about at a fast pace and hear them give each other instruction.

“We should send word to the Warchief...”

Though she had no idea who had said it, these handful of words snapped the mage out of her stupor. “No!” She gasped out, searching the room for a possible source of the voice, only for her gaze to land on Vanira, Rokhan, and Baine all standing in a cluster on the opposite side of the room, “You will not do that!”

“Nadia,” the Tauren warrior began, his voice calm and even, “he would want to know.”

“Which is exactly why you will not tell him!” Even tense and exhausted from labor, she still made a tough debater, “The Horde is still fighting off the Legion as we speak; it needs its Warchief clear headed and able to lead without any distractions! I’ve already bothered you all and taken you away from where you’re needed most...I won’t do the same with him. Not with a single distraction!” Her eyes clenched shut and she doubled over slightly as another wave of pain started, “Not even...this...”

Anything else she might have said was cut off with another cry of pain, one that caused almost everyone present to flinch and unintentionally solidified her argument. The mood in the room shifted as the healers began to make more preparations, and it was then that Vanira realized that the two men were still in the damn room.

“Enough!” She began to push them out of the makeshift space, not letting them get a word in edgewise about the matter of telling the Warchief or being so forcefully evicted or whatever it was they wanted to complain about, “Out, out! Give her some privacy!”

Once the three of them were outside, Vanira placed her hands on her hips and gave both Baine and Rokhan stiff glares, “Do what ya feel like and go where ya be needed from ‘ere, be it back up dere fightin’, helpin’ people, or just here waiting. I don’t care; but...no one be sayin’ anything ta Vol’jin.”

The shaman didn’t wait to hear their response as she turned sharply on her heel and went back inside to assist Nadia. At some point during the short time she had stepped out, the healers and midwives had put rolled up blankets and other bundles to support the mage as they laid her back into a more comfortable position. Vanira wasted no time in crossing the short distance of the room to place herself directly at Nadia’s side.

“You should go too,” the mage gasped out between strained breaths, “you’re probably needed elsewhere.”

“No,” she responded while taking Nadia’s hand into her own, “I don’t think I am.” The mage looked up at her in surprise, and while her face was still flushed from fatigue and discomfort her eyes told of nothing but relief and gratitude, “Just tell me what ya need.”

Nadia tried to smile before another contraction overcame her, and her breath hitched as she tightened her grasp on Vanira’s hand. The shaman tightened her own grip in response while using her free hand to rub circles on Nadia’s back.

“Don’ even try ta hold it in,” she muttered while the mage allowed herself a prolonged moan. Glancing up at one of the healers who had come to a stop at her side, the Tauren woman whispered into her ear. Nodding once in response, she kept her hand in Nadia’s as some of them began to reposition her legs while the older and much calmer looking healer moved to kneel at her feet, “Won’t be long now.”

The mage was tempted to call Vanira out on her lie, as the next moments felt like some of the longest and most grueling of her life. The pains were becoming worse and closer together now, and remembering to breathe was her only priority until someone, at some point, told her to start pushing.

She did, even though it felt like her entire being was on fire and that she might give out at any moment. She kept pushing until told to stop, over and over again, even though it hurt like nothing had before and her strength had given out long ago.

Above all the pain and the exhaustion and the fear, she knew she couldn’t stop.

She found herself almost screaming again amidst all the words of encouragement and little prayers and affirmations that she was nearly there, nearly there. Just when it almost became too much, she cried out and gave it everything that she had left before falling back, utterly spent and with nothing else to give.

At the sound of a small and sharp and completely new cry that wasn’t her own, Nadia felt her heart swell and tried to sit up to find the source. The laughing and cheering and quick footsteps from the healers as their frantic dance was renewed almost drowned it out, and she wanted to tell them all to shut up and be quiet so she could hear it again. Dazed and light headed, the mage looked at Vanira still at her side who stared back with a big smile that confused her.

Nadia honestly didn’t know what everyone was so elated over...until the Tauren healer walked up to her and placed her own baby into her arms.

He seemed so small and fragile, though his cries were anything but. So many feelings overcame her at once, and all she could do after being so worn and afraid was hold him tightly in her arms close to her chest and stare. She ran her touch over his head and down his arms to the tips of his little fingers, almost to see if he was truly real, and they grabbed onto her index finger with such a tight grip that fresh tears began to form in her eyes again.

People still spoke and smiled and milled about with their arms full of things all in one big chaotic swirl...but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything else than her baby in her arms.

“Thank you,” Nadia whispered to no one in particular, as she choked back a sob and pressed her lips to her son’s forehead, “thank you.

...

When telling him the story, Nadia had of course skipped over the less dignified details of the experience. Not that it seemed to matter, however, as Vol’jin still looked like he might pass out by the time she had finished with her tale.

“It all happened so fast,” she admitted while shifting her hold on their son, “I’m just glad that someone was able to find me, or else I don’t know what would have happened.”

She kept rambling, something that Vol’jin noticed she had a tendency to do when trying to overcompensate for a situation that she interpreted to be awkward, but he didn’t hear any of it over the rampant and unforgiving thoughts that began to plague his conscience.

“I’ll have to remember to apologize to Rokhan later. And Baine, I am almost positive I ruined his shirt...Vol’jin?” Nadia looked up again to find him staring down at her with this unreadable expression. Before she could question him further, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and the baby in a tight embrace, “Vol’jin, what-?

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked, and Nadia found herself going quiet with those two words. She had not expected him to suddenly speak in Zandali, and his grip around them tightened while he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, “I am so, so sorry.”

She could hear the pain and sadness in his voice, and allowed him to hold them for as long as he wanted, letting her head rest against his chest. The sound of his beating heart combined with the feeling of being in his strong arms relaxed her completely, and Nadia was reminded yet again of just how safe she felt when he held her.

“This is all my fault.”

The ache in his voice made her heart hurt, and she shifted out of his grasp just enough to look up at him. “What are you talking about?” she asked gently in the same tongue, raising her free hand to press it to his cheek.

“Ya came to da Underhold an’ almost delivered a child by yourself on my orders,” his eyes burned brightly with barely controlled rage as he turned his gaze back down to look at her. “Ya never woulda been down here if I hadn’t forced ya to.”

“Underhold was the safest place I could be. It’s not like I could have stayed in the Hold, and you cannot possibly blame yourself for the Legion deciding to invade today of all days.”

“You be my responsibility. Mine,” his grip tightened over her arm, “it be my job ta keep you safe, both of you. An’ I failed, Nadia.”

The dark thoughts cried out louder now as he stared down at Nadia and their baby still fast asleep in her arms, the guilt and the shame feeling like they were about to drive him mad.

What kind of man are you if you can’t protect the mother of your child and your own son? What kind of Warchief could you possibly hope to become if you can’t even do something as simple as that?

Just when Vol’jin thought he might go over the edge, he felt Nadia grasp him by the wrist and pull him in closer. She didn’t give him the chance to object as she gently lifted their newborn into his unsuspecting arms. The mage might as well have had a dragon aspect lick him by the way he stiffened up and immediately looked terrified, and she adjusted his hold until it was similar to her the one she had just been using.

The Warchief had absolutely no idea what to do, and mostly just stayed frozen as Nadia adjusted the baby’s blanket and mumbled something about supporting his head. His newborn son stretched and yawned once before immediately returning to the fitful sleep he’d been in the whole time, and Vol’jin felt something inside of him, something he didn’t even know was there, melt as he held him for the first time.

“We’ll be able to hold him again tomorrow, show him off tomorrow, and do all sorts of stuff tomorrow and well after,” Nadia smiled fondly as she watched Vol’jin begin to relax and placed a hand on his shoulder, “and I get to say that we’ll be able to do all those things tomorrow because of you. It may not seem like it right now, but you did keep us safe. You kept us safe, me and him and everyone else who is here, in ways that can’t even begin to be put into words. You did that.”

The Warchief let out a shaky sigh and pressed his forehead to hers, content to just stay there for as long as possible in the moment and not let anything spoil it. Not the Legion, not anyone else, and certainly not his own worries.

“Ahhhh, damn,” he said after a beat of silence. He lifted his head in favor of meeting her eyes, and an ironic grin spread across his face, “We haven’t even thought o’ names.”

Nadia couldn’t help but snort at the revelation and she let her head rest on Vol’jin’s shoulder, “Well, then, we can do that tomorrow too.”

This time, she did get a laugh out of him and he finally relaxed completely beside her. They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, before she pulled at his sleeve.

“You need to get some sleep,” she lifted the baby from his arms and cradled him again.

“Not yet. It be feelin’ like I just got here.” Vol’jin knew she was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“You don’t have to leave.” Carefully, Nadia reached behind her and pulled out one of the rolled up mats and held it out to him, “but you do need to rest.”

It took a moment for the Warchief to realize that she meant for him to sleep beside her, but when he did he didn’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. He accepted the roll and placed it behind his neck as he lay down at her side. It wasn’t the most ideal arrangement, but it didn’t matter much as he soon found himself fading the second he got into a position comfortable enough for the time being. Vol’jin felt Nadia use her free hand to take hold of his, and soon he had slipped into dreamless and fitful sleep.

.......

Sooooooo, this DEFINITELY wasn’t little RIP, but I had a lot of fun with it and am really proud! Thank you for reading this far, and I hope to do even more writing in the near future! All the love!!

#World of Warcraft #Nadia Ravenscroft #Vol'jin #Baine Bloodhoof #Rokhan #Vanira #My writing #writing prompts #warcraft writing

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kurel-andiel · 5 years

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Saakes Deal

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It was tender at first. A brush of air, like a sweet whispering of lips against the edge of his ear. Just a feeling without the sound of any voice. Then like a javelin, something pulled so hard at his chest it caused Kurel to sit upright. The part that Eilithe had used and given of herself to control and contain a dangerous evil within himself, was trying to escape. Or so it felt like.

Struck again by that invisible force, Kurel rolled out of his bed and landed on the floor of his cabin on board The Queen's Gambit. His mind was flooded with memories. Nearly two years of highs and lows. Tears, laughter, arguments. In them, he was lost. Without permission, Gra'Dighet tore himself from Kurel's own shadow and slammed the flat of his spidery hand against his host's chest, across the brand.

"Where is the Lady-- do you know where she is!?" The creature’s tone was full of panic. Three, maybe four times it had to ask before Kurel even acknowledge it.

It was taking all of Gra'Dighet's power to keep the piece of Eilithe trapped inside the brand from escaping and it was taking everything in Kurel to not sink into his fear of the moment. Of losing control. Of killing everyone on the ship.

"The pendan'." Kurel wheezed out with a turn of his head towards the opposite wall. A trinket worth more than any sum of coin, that could bring Eilithe directly to him with a single word, was in the pocket of his coat. But he couldn't get to it and neither could Gra'Dighet.

The room quaked and a terrible kind of unease blanketed those quaint quarters like a heavy, unbreathable fog.

"I doub' you want ta' be tryin' dat," Spoke a jolly voice with a thick trollish accent."Saakes da Crossroads-- Lord o' Deals," he said with no small amount of arrogance."I'm jus' here ta make sure you ain' interrupt da process."

On his knees, suffering and in peril, the last thing Kurel ever imagined he might be faced with was the presence of a Loa sitting comfortably in his chair like it was entitled to everything. Such as the coin Saakes took as payment for having just appeared and the bottle bourbon like it had been graciously gifted. The real purpose of Saakes presence was a mystery and so fragile was Kurel in those sentences, swinging like a pendulum between life and death. He was willing to do anything-- almost anything, to know something.

"You the Lor' of Deals. Alrigh'. Let's make a trade, eh? Yeah? You tell me everythin' goin' on with her, wha'ever this process, who'ever's gotten to her. An' I'll give you somethin' tha' can make a ship sail in dead win'. "

Saakes grinned at Kurel, "I like deals, shore-- but wha' use I got for sailin'. Ain' much use fa' a ship where I make home." He looked to Kurel's chest, "Ain' ya ain' got much of a soul ta' speak of do ya An'Diel. T'ink harda'."

Panic. Frustration. They outweighed rage and anger and frivolously Kurel tried to name things of monetary gain he could give away. "North of Quel'thalas. A brewery. I don't do shi' with i'. You wan' tha', yeah? You take tha'. You tell me wha' I wan'."

"Nah~," Sakes said, and then in true asshole fashion, he twisted a knife that was already likely deep. "Somet'ing dat canno' be boug't wit gold."

Helplessness. That was the sinking sensation that Kurel felt in that moment. He was a man who collected a hundred thousand trinkets, trophies, and items worth only to what someone would pay for them. The only thing in his collection that Kurel could even dream up was worthy enough for a Loa was hidden far, far away on an intersection of ley lines to mask its very existence. How much worse the world could be made, if the Legacy Gate fell into the hands of a creature of Saakes status.

"My nex' born." He practically blurted out. If Kurel had his way, there would never be. It would be a debt forever carried, never fulfilled. And in the event it was... a bridge Kurel decided he would have to cross if ever it came to that.

Children were not typically among the things Saakes took either, but he would need, eventually, a replacement for Eilithe.

"Alrig't-- ya next child is mine, when dey come ta age, the Crossroads marks 'em an' dey become my charge." He leaned forward, "An' if'n ya otha' deals intercede or ya t'ink ya sneaky enough not to fa'fill ya bargain. Guess you willin' ta' suffa' da consequences."

"Yeah." Kurel answered, willing as much strength into his voice as he could manage. "Now tell me. Everything."

Saakes did seem to lament the state of Eilithe Duskbringer; his hand curled and uncurled. Perhaps he regretted the things he'd lost out on in keeping her for himself, but the next born An'Diel at least sweetened the pot. "Girl's out deep in da jungle--where 'er bloot' was made, givin' eet back. Da bloot' dat is." He licked at a tusk, "Pick a messy way ta go too, gave herself as penance-- least dats what most of her believes. De otha' half-- well, s'in her nature-- destructin'. Her life fa' T'reshad's-- fa' da Harbinga's aid ta' her islan'."

For a first time, in a long time, Kurel wished he had never been right. That the coming of a herald whispered to him was somehow connected to that of Threshad.

"Other Quarter." Kurel corrected Saakes and that brought about just enough arrogance to appear a pained and stricken grin. "A quarter of her's with me an' we." He swallowed thickly. His lungs could barely take in air, let alone push it out and make words. "We survive." Maybe he was just afraid that she wouldn't survive this, that he didn't want to accept it.

Every movement from that moment was slow and cautious. From moving one hand to grab Gra'Dighet by the wrist to make sure its hand did not move, to stretching and reaching over the top of his bed pallet for a small platter on the window seal. It fell, scattering rings across the blankets until he found the one he wanted and slipped it onto his right middle finger. He carefully shifted until he was sitting on the floor, Gra'Dighet still looming over him and his back now to that cot.

Sur'fal.

He didn't know if that mental bridge between them still worked or if she was even aware enough to hear him. What he did know was that he was too far away and Azeroth had too many jungles to search for her in.

I don't know if you can hear me. So maybe, I'm jus' wastin' my own final moments. Bu' if I ain't. You gotta ge' up. You gotta survive. If no' for yourself... Then for your daughters, for Reveria an' for all of Dead Sun.

I've spen' a lo' of my years tryin' to make up for my failures. Convincin' myself I didn't deserve all the thin's I wanted. Goin' agains', sacrificin' an' betrayin' family, friends, people... To do jus' one thin' righ'. Thinkin' i' woul' give me all the absolution I needed to die feelin' vindicated or forgivin'.

You tryin' to save Threshad from wha'evers comin'. Thin' is, I've tried doin' wha' you're doin'. Wha' I learned was, didn't matter. It still came. The bes' I ever did was delay it. Maybe your sacrifice means i' don't come tomorrow. Maybe no' until three hundred years from now. Bu' it'll still come. An' we're better. When we can figh' the things in numbers.

He was delirious. Because Kurel broke out into a pained fit of agonizing laughter at how ridiculous and hypocritical he sounded.

So listen.

He decided to finish anyways.

Pick yourself up an' finish wha'ever i' is you se' ou' to do. Bu' you bes' figure i' ou' in some other fuckin' way. Cause I ain't lettin' go. An' if you decide otherwise... There's a whole lo' of innocen' people on this ship been loyal to us both who are goanna pay the price for i'.

@deadsunharbor | @eilitheduskbringer

#Eilithe side plots

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deeafrotailmisstress · 6 years

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Tumbling off Trees

((A short RP I had with @majros-mishaps ages ago, hope you guys enjoy reading it! If the ending seems a bit abrupt it’s because towards the end I had to quickly leave ‘cause of late night issues but hope you guys enjoy it regardless! <3))

Majro Skyfern never was one much for hikes in the past, but these days, civilization seemed too stifling. The wilds around The Pier were too familiar, and anyway, who wants to hide outside the place they technically work? This place was infinitely more welcoming. He could get lost here, which is what he wanted to do. He even had found himself humming softly to himself until a sound unlike the chirping of the local wildlife caught his ear. He fell silent looking about himself uneasily.

Jazz let out a defeated sigh and hung upside-down again. She glared at her effects below her that had fallen upon her entrapment; she just HAD to set off one of her own traps on the day she decided to not wear her machetes.

“Take the day off Olka said…” Jazz grumbled as she crossed her arms glaring at her bag down below, “It’ll be fun, just take a walk and jam some tunes, Olka said.” Indeed her uke lay uselessly beside her stuff, but she doubted the instrument would help either. She blinked however when she spotted a passerby and gasped excitedly. An Aurin! They were usually super helpful right?

“Ey! Ey buddy!” Jazz stuck both her index fingers in her mouth and let out a loud whistle before waving her arms wildly, “Up here fella!”

Majro’s ear satellites this way and that. If he was a hunter worth a damn he’d have pinpointed the source by now, but the whistle made it impossible to mistake the direction. He lifted his head and tilted it as he regarded the swinging human with a blink.

“...You sure are, ma’am. Looks like I found the best hangout spot in the forest huh?” He approached, tail twitching in tentative curiosity. Jazz’s smile brightened, looking quite silly as she dangled with a happy grin and her limbs swinging in the air. But she was just happy somebody finally spotted her!

“Indeedy! D’az why I been ‘hangin’ around here’ so much!” She snorted at her own joke, but quickly shook her head and grabbed her hands at him. “Ya mind grabbin’ my effects there friend? I just need one o’ my stabbies ta knick offa dis rope!” She pointedly looked down at her belongings on the boulder beneath the stranger.

Majro looked down toward the aforementioned effects, then back up towards the human. “Is that...er. A good idea?” He peered downward at the base of the tree, which was very far down below the woman, “Might be kinduva crash landing. How’d you get up there, anyhow?”

“Um...Jazz did a thing and the rope don’t like humans.” Jazz ambiguously explained while her eyes glanced everywhere but at he Aurin as she didn’t want to admit the silly mistake she made.

She glanced down at the tree bass and scrunched up her nose at it before she waved a hand, “Bah, fuck it, what don’ kill ya only make ya more badass, amiright?” She smirked and proceeded to swing excitedly at the Aurin “Effeeects, c’mon gimme somet’in’ sharp at least dude!”

The Aurin chuckled and moved towards the items before kneeling down, “Sooomething, huh? Sure it wasn’t something you weren’t supposed to be doing? Don’t figure the property owners take kindly to poaching or anything like that.” He cast a cheeky look to the human, even as he continued to rifle and sift. “...suppose it’s none o’ my beeswax either way.”

Jazz puffed up her cheeks indignantly and looked away “Oi I ain’ gotta explain what I been doin’ ‘round here. An’ it weren’t like dere was any signs saying ‘Yo, ju ain’ allowed ta grab any snackings off da animals here!’ so I figured first come first serve!” She tried to swing forward again to see if he found any of her knives in there but tilted her head in a bewildered manner as she asked “Bees...wax? Well Jazz ain’ too sure where dose are, but I sure dey can be yours, don’t see anybody else claimin’ em!...Just keep dem away from me please, Jazz don’ like bees.”

The redhead shrugged a shoulder, his tail curling thoughtfully, “Guess you got a point there. They might even want help with keeping the wildlife back anyway, can’t build on top of a bunch of angry malverines yeah?”

He seemed to find what he was looking for, his ears perking upward in recognition. “Oh yeah no, that makes two of us, really. Can you blame us though? Their stingers are as long as my slagging arm.” He gives a visible shudder, and holds up the machete over his head for her approval. “Think this’ll do the trick?”

“ASS-CRACKER!” Jazz cheerfully cried out the name of her blade and nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah yeah, just throw him o-” Before she could finish the sentence Jazz thought over the horrible results of what could happen if her new acquaintance didn’t throw it properly. There was a silent moment before she sheepishly asked, “Uh...ya reckon ya could bring it on over here? Hehe…”

The little Aurin mouthed to himself worriedly “Ass...cracker?” But then smiled amusedly when he realised it was the name for the blade, “Ya give all your things names like that?” After Jazz’s second suggestion, his tail grabbed onto the handle of the blade before he started to climb up the trunk as he asked “Ya got a name ma’am?”

Jazz couldn’t help how she stared at the intriguing use of his tail. Truth be told she had seen Aurin from afar, but never really interacted with them much outside of passing, so it was always fascinating for her to watch their new quirks. At his question Jazz nodded brightly, “Mmhmm! Each o’ my stabbies got names, includin’ me fists!”

She tried to wave up at the fellow as he climbed, but it was awkward due to the upside-down position. “Da name’s Jazz! Friends call me Jazzy or Shorty, enemies call me little shit, but ya can taaaa-okay Jazz doin’ a spinny, I can’t see ya.” She tried to wiggly around but she currently found herself rotating on the rope slowly.

Majro grinned, “Hopefully those fists won’t ever have MY name on ‘em!” He reached a height where he thought he would be in range to hand over the knife, and his tail rose carefully towards his waiting hand. His grip on the tree faltered a bit as the transfer happened, but he managed to hold on.

“Pleasure to meetcha, Miss Jazz. Name’s Majro. Majro Skyfern.” He began to extend the knife toward her, handle first, but recoiled a bit as she span. “Oh that’s...that’s no good.” The blade was placed between his teeth, and he reached out with his free hand to steady the rope. Then he realized, “...Thish ish worsh.” He looked back toward the tree with worry.

“Majro Skyfern? D’az an awesome name!” Jazz felt him nearby and tried to lean over once the rope started to spin towards the Aurin again, but found herself stuck. “Eh? Wa’z happenin’ over dere Majro?!” Jazz called out and tried to yank herself to him again, but ended up accidentally pulling Majro away from the tree.

“OH SHI-!” She cried out in panic and quickly grabbed onto his arm to make sure he didn’t fall, “Sorry sorry I t’ought ju was done!”

Majro gave a somewhat undignified shriek around the knife as what remained of his grip slipped free of the bark. He seemed destined to make a great splat onto the ground below, but Jazz’s grip on his arm saved him. For that moment, anyhow.

“Noh noh. Thash -” His now free-hand removed the blade from his mouth. It probably didn’t have much slobber on it. Probably. Poor Ass-cracker. “...that’s my bad. This never was my best event in boot camp, come to think of it.” He did his best to lift the machete’s handle towards the human again, “Think you can manage it with one hand? You can let me fall, I wouldn’t blame ya.”

“O’course I can do dis with one arm, I ain’ been buildin’ deez guns for nothin’! Jus’ hold on to my belly an’ I’ll grab the blade!” Jazz sounded almost offended that he even had to ask, but she simply lifted the Aurin up with one arm, grunting with effort while doing so, and waited for him to do as instructed before grabbing the blade.

She started to whack away at the rope until it snapped and jolted them lower suddenly, making Jazz gasp out in shock. Well. Too late to back out now. Her eyes widened as she remembered this time she had a passenger with her in this fall and before the rope finally snapped, Jazz quickly threw the blade down and braced an arm around Majro. She warned him with an awkward smile, “Uh...sorry about dis next part.”

She rapidly grabbed onto the Aurin and wrapped all her limbs around him before they plummeted.

Majro did as she asked, clinging onto the human for dear life. “Don’t you worry ‘bout lil’ ol’ me! We got dis! It’s gonna be-” The downward shuddering of the rope put an end to whatever platitude he was in the middle of crowing, “...well, I was gonna say ‘alright’, but.” He clung tighter. “I’m sorry too.” He screeched pretty much the whole way down as the rope finally gave way.

Somehow, he possessed the presence of mind to send an arc of espernetic energy sparking at his hands, but he couldn’t formulate the thought quickly enough. His attempt to cushion their landing with espernetics fizzled before it fully took form.

Jazz didn’t bother screaming and instead squinted her eyes shut as she braced for the painful impact and encircled the poor panicking Aurin. Luckily for the both of them Jazz’s instincts came out in a blaze, quite literally, as the ball of tangled limbs was inflamed with espernetic fire that took all the damage from the first bounce against a large root. Both Majro and Jazz ended up rolling quickly into a soft flower bed before they slowly halted to a stop, the flames having long dissipated.

Jazz hesitantly blinked her eyes open and let go of Majro as she stared incredulously up at the sky. She let out a small titter. Then a giggle. Which grew into a relieved chuckle and then a loud chortle as she heaved with laughter.

Majro’s eyes squeezed shut as they hit the tree root, a hiss of alarm escaping him. Blue sparks continued to dance about his arms and hands as they continued to roll, trying to formulate some kind of cushion to prevent them from hitting whatever’s coming next as hard as they hit the first stop. The runway however was a great deal softer than he expected. He cracked an eye open, then another. As Jazz pulled away, he sat up, looking not up to the sky but to the ground around them. The human’s laughter proves contagious, and before long, he’s cackling right along with her. He flopped onto his back as he ran out of breath, petals flying up in his wake.

“Hee hee DUDE! WE’RE ALIVE!” Jazz cried out with glee and raised two middle fingers into the air in victory as she roared with a grin “SUCK IT GRAVITY! HAHA!” Jazz felt so buzzed from the rush of the fall that she couldn’t help but start rolling around on the grass still laughing, albeit now at a smaller and quieter level. She didn’t notice the little firework espernetics that shot out as well from her excitement.

Majro’s arm shot upward out of the grass, a single fistpump, for great justice. “Slag yeah! Trees thought they were taking us down, but not this time!” He boasted, blowing away a petal that had settled on his nose before pulling himself back up to a sitting position. He looked over towards Jazz, “Pretty sure I owe my head not being split like a melon to you, ma’am. Thanks for the save. You all right? Need any healing or anything?” He lifted a hand, faint blue light at his palm flickering to gold and back to blue a few times before holding steady. As he spied the fireworks she gave off, his hand lowered, “Or...maybe you got it covered.” He added softly.

Jazz’s laughter finally simmered down as she heaved, “Oh...Oh sorry boy gimme a sec, I jus- I’m excited!”

She giggled one last time before sitting up and tried patting down all the flora that got tangled in her curls that grew wilder amidst her rolls. “Nah, no need ta thank me when you was da one who got me Ass-cracker from the bottom!” She gasped when she saw his hand flicker gold, “Oooh! Ju got the esp-y things too?! That’s awesome!”

Majro favored the human with a warm grin, a hand lifting to rustle grass and petals from his own hair as she got her bearings. His hand reached around to the back of his head, stopping short seemingly in surprise before his claws fell, returning to the grass behind him. He still wasn’t used to having short hair yet.

Her comment regarding espernetics set him to curling the offered hand back towards himself sheepishly, one hand wringing the other. “Heh, yeah, more like I try to, anyway. Usually pretty good at doin’ stuff that hurts, but the stuff that makes the hurting go away...eh. Not my strong suit. I’d be willing to try though, if ya needed it!” He crossed his legs, patting his pockets as though looking for something.

The human followed his hands with a thoughtful gaze, not really melancholic but not quite fond either. She didn’t really feel like explaining the complications behind her espernetics so Jazz hugged her knees to herself as she simply shook her head smiling, “Nah, Jazz been hurt worse than a stupid tree. It’s how I got dis after all!” She poked the tip of her broken nose with a wink before she patted his knee “But t’anks for helpin’ me out fella! Ya sure didn’t have to do that since you was busy with...with…”

She blinked, “...what were ya doin’ ‘round these parts?”

Majro’s ears flattened slightly, and a nervous chuckle escaped him. “I...dunno, actually. Whole lotta nothin’, if I’m honest.” He found what he was looking for, a chron, somehow miraculously still in one piece. He tapped it to life, “Just...getting fresh air, I guess. Nothing as interesting as fighting rope like you were haha.”

Jazz crossed her arms defensively, “Eyy, I said I wasn’t lookin’ for rope I was jus’...doin’ somet’in’ else. Y’know. Oh shit speakin’ o’ which!”

She bounced up onto her feet and checked the time before grinning, “I oughta be headin’ back to my friend, she’s probably expectin’ me by now!” Without warning she grabbed the Aurin up into a brief hug snickering, “I see ya later Maj-bro!”

She dropped the Aurin unceremoniously before taking off into a quick jog while waving over her shoulder, poor Majro left bewildered on the grass with petals in his hair again.

#dee writes #wildstar #exile #oc #jazz #jasmine abernale #majro skyfern #majro #majros-mishaps #ocs #aurin #human #exiles #wildstar rp #wsrp #rp

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a-butterfly-on-his-tummy · 6 years

Photo

Happy Birf-day Daddy!

“Don’ forget da flowers mumma.” Grace says as she adjust the cup of coffee sitting on the tray, making sure everything is placed in the perfect position. You pick up a small vase that is holding five Gerber Daisies in a shade of light pink, Harry’s favorite. Setting the vase on the tray, Grace reaches her hand out, her small five-year-old fingers grasping the glass and adjusting the bouquet exactly how she wants it.

“Grace, I think you did a good job! Daddy is going to love it.” You pull Grace into a hug, rubbing your hand along her shoulder.

“You carry da tray?” Grace asks, knowing the tray is probably a little too heavy for her to carry. “I get Effan! Can I give daddy my su-pise?”

“Yes you can! He can open that after we sing.” You nod to Grace, grabbing both sides of the tray, ready to head upstairs.

“Com’on Eff! Gotta go sing ta daddy!” Grace pulls the small package under her arm as she holds her hand out for her 11 month old brother.

“Da-da.” Ethan babbles, waddling over to his sister, wrapping his stubby fingers around her hand.

“It his birf-day! Gonna help me sing?” Grace talks to Ethan as they walk up the stairs on their way to the master bedroom. You walk behind the two children with a smile that spans your entire face as you listen to Grace talk to Ethan. Their relationship is so tender; Grace loves being a big sister. She loves being able to teach Ethan everything about life. “Gotta be quiet Eff! We wanna su-pise daddy. Okay?”

Ethan doesn’t respond as he takes each step slowly while holding tightly to Grace’s hand. She is patient with her brother, helping him along the way. The kids reach the top of the stairs and make their way towards the bedroom where the door is open and waiting for them to enter.

“Mumma? We go in? Dat okay?” Grace looks back at you before entering the room with her brother, her eyes begging for permission to go wake her father up. Grace has been ecstatic all morning to celebrate her daddy’s birthday.

“Go ahead!” You say, nodding towards the door. Grace kindly pulls Ethan towards the door and the two of them sneak into the master bedroom.

Harry hears the giggles coming from Grace, as she cannot contain her excitement anymore. Opening one eye, Harry looks towards the door to see his three favorite people. He sits up, the sheet falls revealing his ink splattered chest. Resting his back against his pillows and headboard, a sleepy smile spreading across his face slowly.

“Happy Birf-day Daddy!” Grace shouts with excitement as she comes towards the bed. Grace drops Ethan’s hand and attempts to help him on the bed while still holding her gift tightly under her arm.

“Come ‘ere, Stud.” Harry reaches across the bed, grabbing Ethan by the armpits and pulling him up on the bed. Ethan lays on Harry, giving him a hug. Sitting up he puts his hands on Harry’s cheeks.

“Da-da diss?” Ethan says, attempting to pucker his lips, leaning in towards Harry’s mouth. Harry pushes his lips out to meet Ethan’s mouth that is wide open. Ethan pulls away, leaving a string of slobber behind.

“Happy Birthday babe!” You say, coming to Harry’s side of the bed with the tray of breakfast.

“Thank you Darling.” Harry gives you a smile that makes your heart feel warm. “Did yeh make me breakfast? IN BED?” His eyes grow wide at the tray of delicious food that is being placed on his lap. He pulls Ethan to the side, tucking him close to his body.

“I made it! All of it!!!!” Grace says as she scoots closer to her father, gift in hand.

“That’s right; she helped with everything.” You say. “Don’t eat yet. Gotta grab the matches.” You walk swiftly to the bathroom to grab the matches Harry uses to light the candles when he takes a bath.

“Okay.” He chuckles at your fast walk to the bathroom. “Thank you Bug! This looks so yummy!” Harry looks down at the tray, and his mouth begins to water. Grace had helped you make heart shaped pancakes, coffee, fresh strawberries and raspberries, real maple syrup, and a lovely flower arrangement.

“I dot ‘nother su-pise after you blow out your candle.” Grace holds up the small box, struggling to hold still as she is giddy as all get out. “Mumma said only one candle cause firdy-four is too much.”

“That’s alright. We can put thirty-four candles on the cake tonight.” Harry smiles. “How’s that sound?”

“I like it!” Grace nods. Ethan reaches towards the plate, attempting to grab a pancake. Harry tears a small corner off the breakfast food and hands it to the little boy.

“I’m ready to eat too, Stud.” He whispers in Ethan’s ear.

You arrive back in the room with matches in hand. Walking towards Harry’s side of the bed, you strike a match. It makes Harry laugh when you hold the very end of the match and hurry to light the candle, worried you will burn yourself.

“O-tay! We sing Happy Birf-day!” Grace leads the family in the song. Harry’s dimple makes an appearance as he can’t hide the happiness he is feeling. He has everything he wants in the world right here. He needs nothing more than these three humans to make him happy. They are his favorite humans for sure.

“Happy Birf-day dear Daddy! Happy Birf-day to you!” The song finishes and Harry takes a deep breath in. Pushing the air out of his lungs, Harry blows out the candle with one breath. You, Grace, and Ethan clap for Harry, cheering him on in his candle blowing.

“Can I dig in?” Harry asks. You nod, giving Harry the signal that it’s okay to eat. Harry pops a strawberry in his mouth before pouring the syrup over his pancakes.

“Daddy?” Grace asks her father.

“Yes love?” Harry takes a bite of his strawberry, making it “Ethan size”, and gives the other end to Ethan.

“I dot a present.” Grace holds up the box, wrapped in red polka dotted wrapping paper.

“Hand it over Bug” Harry sets his fork back down on the tray, holding out his hand for Grace to give him the gift.

“Grace worked very hard on this, Harry. This was her idea and she did all the work with some help, but mostly by herself.” You say as Grace gives the package to Harry.

Harry feels excitement fill his body, as he begins to tear open the package. When the wrapping is removed, Harry knows exactly what he holds in his hands, and he is stunned.

“What is this?” Harry is shocked; the album artwork is incredible, and he cannot wait to pop this into the stereo and blast it throughout the house.

“It’s my album, daddy.” Grace’s eyes light up with pride as he turns the album over in his hands. “Jus’ like you!”

Harry is at a loss for words. This has got to be one of the best gifts he has ever recieved. He looks at the songs on the back of the album.

Butterfly Much

Flyin’ in da Sky

Pink Flowers

‘Nana Pancakes

Dancin’ by Myself

Rainbows

Flip-Flops and Sunnies

Happy

Jumpin’ in Puddles

Daddy

“Grace wanted to make music like you do. So who did we call Grace? Tell daddy how you made your album.” You prompt Grace, proud of the little one and what she has created.

“I call Unca’ Mitch. He help me write all da songs.” Grace begins to tell her father about the process. “And den Sarah, and Clare and Adam, dey came and help with da music.” Harry is in awe of his friends and the fact that they would put their time off aside to help Grace create an album just for him. “I sing all da songs. Just for you!” Grace smiles at her dad, proud of what she created.

��Grace! This is amazing. Can I listen?” He asks, still shocked at the fact that he has ten songs of Grace recorded for his ears.

“Mmmmhmm!” She hums looking towards you. You stand up to put it in the stereo.

“Mitch taught Grace a few chords on the guitar.” You say as you walk towards the entertainment center. “What song do you play that on, Grace?” You look towards your daughter who has an expression across her face that looks like nerves.

“Um, Rainbows.” Grace says quietly, the nerves of having her music played through the speakers coming through in her voice.

“You can play the guitar. Seems like Uncle Mitch has been a bit sneaky.” Harry chuckles. “Let’s scoot yeh over Stud. Come over and cuddle with me, Grace.” Harry moves Ethan over a bit so he can create a space for Grace on the other side of him. Holding out his arm, Harry invites Grace to cuddle in close to her father.

“Happy Birf-day! I love you butterfly much.” Grace whispers, giving Harry a tight side hug.

“I love you butterfly much and so much more Gracie Bug.” Harry kisses her head. “Press play mum! Let’s hear my new competition.” You and Harry chuckle at his comment as you press play on the remote.

The album begins and Harry already has tears in his eyes as the sweet voice of his baby girl plays through the speakers. Her voice is soft and tender as it hits Harry right in his heart. The lyrics make the tears fall from his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

“Grace, you can sing, love. This is outstanding. A Masterpiece.” Harry is quiet in his words, keeping them close for just Grace. She is special, and he can see her standing on stage someday, maybe singing alongside him.

For the next forty minutes, the family listens to Grace’s album: Grace Styles, as they cry, dance, and Grace sings along to a few of the songs. Today is a good day. One that Harry and Grace will never forget. A day that will always be remembered as the day Grace gave her heart in the form of a debut album to her father.

A/N: Happy Birthday Week for Harry!! A massive thank you to the best beta anyone could ask for @whoopsharrystyles she is amazing people, and if you haven’t checked out her writing you should! It’s soooo good! Please check out my Masterlist and Wattpad Page! I love you all! Thank you so much for all your support and love!!

#Send me some feedback #I seriously love hearing from you all #It makes my heart so happy #The adventures of Harry and Grace #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #happy birthday harry #harry styles imagine

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awkwardlyweepingstudent-blog · 6 years

Text

Forbidden - A Spot Conlon love story

"Extra, Extra, criminals break out of prison, hundreds already terrorized, you heard it here," I yelled out to the busy streets.

"Excuse me," turn to see a boy who looked just a bit older than me, "where exactly does it say that? I can't find it," he said in an accusing tone while referring to the newspaper in his hand, I assumed he had gotten one from another boy because I didn't recall selling to him,

"Where does it? Ise said youse 'eard it ere, and youse did didn't ya," he scoffed and I sighed "now get outta ere unless youse gonna buy a pape, I gotta eat ya know," he huffed and walked away, "Extra, Extra," I yelled again selling more papers. Suddenly I feel my papers snatched from under my arm. I whip around to see my brother standing there “Brave, I swear to God give me my papes’ back or I will kick your ass,”

“How bout nah, anyway sis, I need youse to go back to ta lodge, some of Queens’ newsies are coming over and Ise have some business to do before, I'll sell your papes for youse too," I sighed and rolled my eyes but obliged. I got back to the lodge just before the boys arrived. I just sat down on the sofa when the boys came in,

“Hey Freckles,” Jet, the leader of the Queens’ newsies says opening the doors.

“Hey boys,” I got up and took my cap off letting my long braid fall down out of my cap. I walked over to the main table and picked my brush up, “Have a seat,” I undid my hair and attempted to tame it while talking to them, until my brother came in,

“Hey guys, here Freckles, the rest of your money,”

“Yay Ise love you,” I squealed hugging him and taking it from him. “I goin’ to go out-“

“No your not,”

“Uhg,” I stomped my foot, “Ise not a four year old, I be fifteen,”

“I’m still youse older bruddah,”

“by three yeas,”

“And not only I be youse brother, Ise ta head of da Bronx’s Newsies, I run tings round here,”

“Well Ise not some little child who can be bossed around,” I yelled at him

“Well youse are me little sister and a Bronx Newsie, so if youse know whats best youse will listen to me when ise say you are not goin’ out,” I screamed in frustration as I grabbed my hat and brush and stormed up to my room. It wasn’t uncommon for me and my brother to get into fights, it happened pretty often, but one of us usually apologized within a few hours of the fight. I plopped myself on my bed and continued to try and brush my hair. Once it was more calm I braided it, I had self-taught myself how to do a bunch of hairstyles by just seeing them on the street and figuring them out.

“Freckles,” one of the boys knocked on my door, “wes going outta eat,”

“Ise not hungry,” I yelled back lying. I was hungry, I just didn’t want to face my brother. I sighed and pulled out a torn up book I had under my bed, I had found it on the streets a few years ago and had taught myself to read, a bit from it, I still struggled a lot with bigger words, and longer sentences, but it gave me something to do. I used my finger to guide my eye as I tried to put my sentences together, the book was by Arthur Conan Doyle and was about a man who solved mysteries in England. The parts I could understand were fascinating, I just wish I didn’t have to spend so long trying to understand each page. I sighed and reread the page I was on finally getting it. I moved back to the beginning of the chapter to read up to the point I had gotten to. I was immersed in my chapter when I heard banging coming from downstairs. I put my book back under my bed and looked out the window. There was a single newsie with a crutch under one arm knocking on the door, he obviously wasn’t from the Bronx, we didn’t have any crips. Against what I knew my brother would have me do I forced open my window and climbed onto the fire escape. I climbed down the side of the building and jumped of a small ledge landing besides him. He jumped a bit before turning to me,

“Da name’s Crutchie, I’m from ‘hattan,” He hesitantly spit in his hand and held it out, I spit in mine and shook it immediately seeming to surprise the boy.

“Freckles, why is you in da Bronx,”

“Well I was hopin to talk to da leaddah if youse know where he is,”

“Da boys are out for dinnah, I don’t know how long dey’ll be, and anyway ise da closest to da leddah youse gonna get to talk ta soon, now why do youse wanna talk to da leddah?”

“Well us ‘hattan newsies are goin on strike, dey raised da price of da papes,”

“Yes, ise heard rumors,”

“Well, we was hopin we could get ya on our side,”

“And how do wese know youse are serious about dis, dat youse won’t cower at the sight of da bulls comin at ya,”

“Well, youse just gotta believe me, wese won’t,”

“Dats not enough crutchie boy,” he sighed, “Wese gotta see ya stick wit it, den we’ll back you,” He nodded turning to walk away, “And crutchie,” he turned back, “Off da record, personally, I wish ya guies the best,” I watched him walk until he was out of my site before turning and starting to climb back up when I heard a voice,

“Freckles? What are you doin outside,” I swung myself onto a ledge and looked down at my brother,

“If yous must know, a newsie from ‘hattan came,”

“What was a ‘hattan newsie doin in da Bronx,” he asked more to himself

“He came to ask for our support in the strike,”

“You talked to da guy,”

“Well I sure as hell wasn’t gonna ignore him,”

“I don’t want you talking to newsies you don’t know,” I rolled my eyes,

“He was a crip, harmless,”

“Youse don’t know dat,”

“Anyway I can pack a punch if I need ta, anyway I told ‘im wese needed to see dat dey will stay and fight, not give in easily” he nodded and a saw a glimmer of pride in his eye. I continued climbing back up, “Night” I yelled down to him.

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

No pov.

Crutchie came with the news back to the lodge where the other boys had returned.

“Battery, East side, and Harlem said dey wanna see Brooklyn join den dey will,”

“Well what did Brooklyn say,”

“Dey wanted to see us fight, not run,”

“What about Queen and Midtown”

“Dey are waitin for da Bronx,”

“Crutchie!” Jack yelled seeing his friend coming towards them, “What did da Bronx say,”

“Well she said dat they needed to see dat we were serious, dat we wouldn’t run when da bulls came,”

“She?” Jack asked, “Da leader of da bronx is Brave, a guy,”

“Well ise got Freckles, she said da boys were out and didn’t know when dey would return, and dat she was da closest to da leadah I was gonna get soon,”

“I aint evah ‘eard of no Freckles, but if dats da response you got,” Jack shrugged, not wanting to send a boy to wait for Brave to return.

#oc #spot conlon #spot #jack kelly #newsies #newsies fanfic #nyc #broadway #bronx #tw abuse #tw violence #past abuse #newsies fandom #fansie #fansies

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

Bayley’s Best Friend (Charlotte Flair x Reader)

Anonymous Request: r and bayley are best friends (like Sasha and bayley) and charlotte is kinda scared to tell the r that she is in love with her cause she thinks r and bay are together Bayley,Becky and sasha work together to make charlotte confess because they know r is in love with her

“Char, dey aren’t together, I’m tellin ya.” Becky says as she places a hand on her best friend’s shoulder and the woman exhales loudly through her nose, her green orbs watching you and Bayley walk through the backstage area, your fingers tangled together.

“It doesn’t look like that to me...” She mumbles when Bayley leans her head on your shoulder.

“Sasha!” Becky whisper yells, catching the blue haired woman’s attention, the woman making her way over.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, following their gaze to where you and Bayley are standing the two of you talking, all smiles.

“Charlotte thinks Bayley and Y/N are togeter...” The Irishwoman sighs and Sasha snorts.

“Yeah, they aren’t together.”

Meanwhile, Charlotte’s green orbs haven’t left you and Bayley the two of you hugging as you talk.

“You know Bayley, that’s how she is.” Sasha points to the two of you and Becky smirks.

“Yer not jealous, are ya Sasha?” She teases, the blue haired women’s cheeks flushing.

“No...” She mumbles, Becky letting out a loud snort.

“Sureeeeeeee...” She teases, earning an eye roll from The Boss.

“But trust me, they aren’t together.”

The two of you, you and Bayley turn around and make your way through the backstage area, completely missing the gaze of the three horsewomen on your backs.

Charlotte sighs, wordlessly turning around and heading in the opposite direction, leaving Becky and Sasha behind.

The two women share a glance.

“Looks like we have ta take dis into our own hands.” Becky shrugs, Sasha nodding.

“Yep.”

“We’ll have to get your girlfriend in on it.” Becky gives Sasha a nudge, the woman blushing.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” She mumbles and Becky rolls her eyes.

“Sure.”

***

“Wait... Y/N and me?” Bayley snorts, her brown orbs darting from Becky to Sasha and back.

“Yeah, Charlotte thinks you’re together.” Sasha shrugs, Becky smirking.

“Yeah, ya can’t be toghter, you and Sasha are together.” She teases and Bayley’s orbs widen, cheeks pink as they dart to Sasha’s face, the woman’s face equally as flushed.

Becky claps, her Raw Women’s Title nearly falling off her shoulder.

“I fuckin knew it!”

Bayley shuffles adjusting her own title that’s around her neck.

“WAIT!” Becky shrieks, the two women jumping, eyes wide.

“DIS IS PERFECT!”

Bayley and Sasha share a glance, their eyes even wider than they had been seconds before.

“I don’t like the sound of that...” Bayley mumbles, Sasha nodding.

“Me either.”

Becky grins, a malicious grin that makes the two women swallow hard.

“Okay, here me out.”

***

The second three out of the four horsewomen spot Charlotte backstage, they make their move, Becky setting the plan easily into motion considering the Irishwoman was walking side by side with the Queen.

A sudden grunt from a nearby room causes the two of them to stop, the two women sharing a glance before moving towards the door where the noise had come from.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Becky’s eyes widen when she turns, finding you standing beside Charlotte, the blonde’s cheeks dusted pink as she appreciates you in your street clothes and leather jacket.

Before either can answer another crash sounds from in the room, Becky’s brows furrowing.

“Ya better not be fuckin in der.” She mumbles as she shoves the door open, Bayley and Sasha springing apart their eyes wide and lips swollen from kissing.

Your eyes double in size, as do Charlotte’s, the two of you sharing a glance before you let out a loud snort.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” You point in the room at your best friend, the woman throwing something at you.

“I told you I’d eventually figure it out!” You cackle, the woman running out of the room and tackling you.

Meanwhile, Charlotte is watching the scene in utter disbelief, green orbs darting from Sasha, to you and Bayley and back.

The two of you eventually stop your wrestling, both panting heavily as you playfully shove one another, it’s when you spot Charlotte out of the corner of your eye, watching you with a smirk you blush.

“Uh... H-Hey.” You grin bashfully, growling when Bayley gives your arm another punch.

Charlotte grins.

“Hey.”

The two of you stare at one another for a minute, both silent, that is until you’re tapped on the shoulder by a tech.

“You’re on in 5, Y/N.” He says and you nod, sighing.

“Well, I uhh, better get going.” You grin, your cheeks flushed when Charlotte grins back.

“Good luck.” She grins and you walk backwards, walking right into Bayley.

“Th-Thanks.” You say as you turn around and basically run away, leaving the four horsewomen behind.

“Are you two ever going to ask each other out orrrrrrrrrr....?” Bayley hums, Charlotte’s eyes widening, her cheeks pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shrugs before walking off, leaving Bayley, Sasha and Becky behind.

“So now we have to make them confess that they into each other?” Sasha sighs and Becky nods.

“Yep.”

Bayley smirks.

“Can’t say I’m complaining, I mean I got to make out with my girlfriend after all.” Bayley winks, Sasha’s cheeks flushing.

Becky rolls her eyes.

“How does no one know da two of ya are together? I mean ya aren’t very subtle.”

The two women share a glance, both grumbling.

“Shut up.”

***

Fortunately for Sasha, Becky and Bayley, the three of them don’t need to do much work, considering Charlotte starts to gravitate towards you more, the two of you spending more time talking, not just as Bayley’s friends, but the two of you as friends yourself.

You take a deep breath, your hands running down your face.

Over the past few months, you’d managed to get on the bad side of EVERY SINGLE ONE of the Riott Squad’s members, so much so that Ruby, Sarah and Liv had decided to team up, considering you had wins over all three of them.

“You are not going down there alone.” Bayley shakes her head, Sasha quick to agree.

“Dis is an obvious trap Y/N.” Becky shakes her head and you sigh, opening your mouth to deny their help, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“If Sarah wants to bring a few extra people to the ring, why shouldn’t you?” Charlotte smiles and you grin, chuckling.

“I guess you’re right.”

***

The second your music hits and you step out onto the stage, you see the ex-members of the Riott Squad waiting all you, all angrily glaring up the ramp.

Each of your wins against them had been clean, but still, you were their number one target.

You move a little way down the ramp before stopping, just now revealing to the trio that you have a mic in hand.

You smirk as you bring it to your lips, you shake your head.

“Sarah, you think you’re the only one with back up?” You ask, the fans cheering as the trio in the ring's eyes widen.

The fans absolutely erupt at the sound of Becky Lynch’s music, the man swaggering out, GOAT across her back as she holds her title in the air, steam pouring from the devices on stage.

Becky nods as she struts down the ramp, stopping just beside you, the woman grinning cockily at the trio in the ring who are absolutely livid.

You wag your finger back and forth, the trio stopping their cries of protests in favor of looking back up to the stage.

Charlotte’s music hits and the fans again go wild, the woman coming out donned in one of her beautiful robes, spinning around to show it off, fireworks exploding above her.

She too makes her way down the ramp stopping at your side, the three of you sharing a quick glance before moving into the ring, Sarah, Liv and Ruby slipping out.

Sarah smacks the ropes.

“Couldn’t face me on your own!?” She yells and you scoff.

“Hey, you brought the party, I just invited a few of my own guests.” You shrug, the woman growling.

You share a glance with Becky and Charlotte, nodding.

“I’ve got this.”

The two women grin, Charlotte’s hand running down your back before she leaves the ring, leaving you in the squared circle with flushed cheeks.

Sarah eventually slips into the ring, alone, and moments later the fight is on.

***

It doesn’t surprise you when right after you get the pin Liv and Ruby launch their assault, they get a few stomps and punches, Liv landing a devastating super kick before Becky and Charlotte come to your aid, the ex Riott Squad members making a hasty retreat.

You swipe your thumb across your bottom lip, snarling when you realize it’s split.

It’s Charlotte’s reaction though that surprises you, the woman literally baring her teeth at the trio on the stage, the women having the decencies to look scared.

You put a hand on her back, the woman taking a deep breath before her green orbs lock with your Y/E/C orbs.

“It’s okay.” You whisper the blonde sighing.

“It’s not they hurt you.” She growls, glaring up the ramp, your heart skipping a beat at the other rage in her voice.

Becky smirks.

“Looks like we don’t ave ta help ya figure it out after all.”

***

Charlotte scans your surroundings as the three of you move backstage, almost immediately being joined by Bayley and Sasha.

“Those bitches.” Bayley growls when she sees your busted lip, glaring around almost as angrily as Charlotte, but the blonde is absolutely livid.

“Let’s at least take you to the trainer’s room, to stop the bleeding.” Sasha pants your back and you nod, but before you can take a step Charlotte holds a hand up.

“I’ll take her. We don’t all need to go.” She says sternly and everyone is quick to agree.

“We’ll be within ear shot, just in case.” Becky smiles, sending Bayley a wink, the shorter haired woman grinning.

“Alright, thanks guys.”

Bayley, Becky and Sasha watch as the two of you make your way down the hallway towards the trainer’s room, the trio all smiles.

“Looks like it’s up ta dem now.” Becky shrugs, the other two women nodding.

“I hope Charlotte knows if she ever hurts Y/N, I’ll have to kill her.” Bayley shrugs and Becky snickers, Sasha nodding as the two women speak at roughly the same time.

“Agreed.”

***

Charlotte is fiercely protective after that, wherever you go, The Queen is right behind you, the woman’s companionship bringing you comfort, but making your crush on her grow only more and more.

Only growing ever still when the woman suggested rooming together on the road, which you of course, were happy to accept.

By the time Charlotte makes her way out of the shower, you’re face down in bed, nearly asleep.

The blonde tiptoes into the room, it’s only moments later when you realize the woman is in nothing but a towel.

The second the towel drops you slam your eyes shut, unwilling to leer at the woman like some lecher.

“Shit, you’re awake!” Charlotte squeaks as she jerks on clothes, which you can’t see considering your eyes are closed.

“Halfway, but I’m not looking I swear.” You cover your closed eyes with your hands and Charlotte smiles.

Charlotte is slipping under the covers of her own bed when she realizes you’re still covering your eyes, the blonde snorting.

“You can open your eyes now.” She laughs and you uncover your eyes, creaking one eye open before the second follows.

You turn, grinning when you see Charlotte’s green orbs on you in the darkness, the woman laying on her side.

“Night Char.” You smile, unable to see the woman’s cheeks flushing pink at the use of her nickname.

“Night Y/N.”

***

“Fuck, I should’ve been there.” Charlotte growls as she helps you up onto the trainer’s bed, frowning at the red welts across your back.

While Charlotte was otherwise preoccupied the ex Riott Squad members launched their attack, smacking you with anything and everything they could find backstage.

“It’s okay.” You grimace when you shift, Charlotte growling at the trainer.

“Show me what to do and then get out of here.” She growls, the man quickly showing her how to tend to your cuts where some of the skin had lightly been broken courtesy of a kendo stick.

The trainer leaves the room and Charlotte gets to work, tending to each and every one of your wounds.

“Oooo.” You shiver when she places a pack of ice on your back, goosebumps sprouting on your arms.

“They tore your back up pretty bad.” Charlotte frowns and you turn around, giving the blonde a smile.

“Good thing I had a great doctor to help me.” You wink and Charlotte rolls her eyes, chuckling as she runs her fingertips gently down your back, causing you to blush.

“Shut up.”

***

“Shit.” You growl as you go to lay back in bed, wiggling to try and find a comfortable position to lay in.

You’re still searching for that position when Charlotte leaves the shower, making her way towards you with a frown.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep...” You mumble, teeth gritted and eyes screwed shut, eyes that flash open when the bed dips.

Charlotte slips into bed beside you, pulling the covers down before she opens her arms.

You look at her in question for a moment, heart racing as you shuffle towards her, sighing when your chest presses against hers.

She wraps her arms around you, careful to avoid your wounded back as she pulls you close.

“Is this okay?” She asks and you smile, ducking your head to nuzzle into her collar bone, the woman’s cheeks red.

“More than okay.” You yawn, Charlotte grinning, watching as you almost immediately fall asleep in her arms.

She shakes her head, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“Night Y/N.”

***

“So, you and Y/N?” Becky teases the blonde who scoffs.

“What about me and Y/N?” She asks and Becky snorts.

“Come on Char, yer into her.” She smiles, Charlotte immediately opening her mouth to retort, to disagree, but moments later she snaps it shut.

“Seeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Becky nudges the blonde who groans.

“She’ll never see me like that.”

“Who won’t see you like what?”

Charlotte jumps when Bayley and Sasha join the two of them, eyeing the Queen curiously.

“Charlotte like’s Y/N, but thinks she doesn’t like her back.”

Charlotte’s eyes widen, the woman literal seconds from ripping Becky apart, that is, until Bayley snorts.

“You seriously think she isn’t into you?” The shorter haired woman laughs, Charlotte looking at her in utter confusion.

“She looks at you like you hung the stars.” Sasha adds.

Charlotte rolls her green eyes.

“She does not.”

Charlotte makes a quick retreat, but before she can get down the hallway, she’s blindsided, a chair smacking into her back.

“HEY!” Becky shouts, dropping her title and running down the hallway, but before she can get to Charlotte and the attacking Riott Squad members, you do.

You leap onto a crate backstage before literally jumping off onto the Riott Squad, raining down punches on the women who attempt to retreat, but before they can you grab a steel chair.

Becky is at Charlotte’s side, watching as you single handedly beat the Riott Squad down, chair after chair shot until the women literally crawl away.

“DON’T TOUCH HER AGAIN.” You roar at the retreating women, Charlotte and Becky joined by Bayley and Sasha, the three worriedly scanning the Queen who is watching you with wide eyes.

You throw your chair before dropping down in front of the blonde, the blonde whose green orbs are shining in awe and adoration.

“Are you alright?” You ask worriedly and Charlotte smiles softly.

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” She whispers and you snarl.

“Had the nerve to attack you...” You sneer, glaring over your shoulder.

“Well, ya sure stopped dat.” Becky laughs as Bayley ruffles your hair.

“Of course, I did, I wasn’t going to let them her the woman I-

You stop mid sentence eyes wide, three of the four horsewomen smiling as your cheeks flush red.

“Care ta finish dat?” Becky asks, earning a smack on the stomach from Charlotte.

“Uhhhh, the woman who uhhh, I...” You swallow hard, happy when you’re quite literally saved by Charly Carusso.

“Y/N, care to tell us what happened?” She asks and you jump to your feet, jaw clenched.

“I’ll tell you what happened...” You shake your head, nostrils flaring.

“Those bitches made the biggest mistake of their lives.”

***

You make the following weeks for the former Riott Squad members absolute hell, striking without warning before slipping away as if you’d never been there.

The four horsewomen watch as you literally decimate the trio, three women who’d you had trouble facing at once in the past, you were literally now leaving in heaps backstage.

“Jesus.” Becky mumbles, watching as Liv and Sarah are late to, yet another, attack by an angry Y/N.

“She’s literally destroying them...” Bayley mumbles, turning to Charlotte with a smirk.

“What?” The blonde scoffs, brows furrowed, but deep down she knows what the Smackdown Women’s Champion is teasing her about.

“I mean, they hurt you and Y/N has been destroying them ever since...” Sasha shrugs and Charlotte groans, rolling her eyes.

"They’ve been attacking her too.” She mumbles, but Bayley is quick to shake her head.

“They haven’t been, I mean, they’re quite literally running in terror.” The shorter haired woman snorts.

Charlotte takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

She didn’t even dare mention the fact that even after your back and hers did, you two still continued to share a bed, the two of you finding comfort in each other's arms.

“Maybe ya should talk ta her?” Becky suggests and Charlotte swallows hard, nodding.

“I think I’m going to have to.”

***

“Why are you still going after them?” Charlotte asks you that night, the two of you lying in bed together, Charlotte, though she wouldn’t admit it, the little spoon to your big spoon, even though you were a lot shorter than her.

You take a deep breath, nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

“They hurt you.” You mumble, Charlotte's heart skipping a beat in her chest.

You swallow hard.

“When they did that, they made a mistake.”

Charlotte sighs at the feel of your hot breath on her ear.

“What do you mean...?” She whispers, gasping when you duck your head to kiss her shoulder.

“No one hurts you, not while I’m around.” You growl, voice raspy.

Charlotte turns around in your hold, your eyes as wide as saucers when you realize just how close the two of you are.

You swallow hard, your eyes darting around her face.

Boldly, you reach towards her, gently curling a wisp of hair behind her ear.

“No one will hurt you while I’m around.” You whisper, smiling when Charlotte leans into your touch.

“You know I can take care of myself, right?” She teases and you chuckle.

“I know you can, but after you’re done with them, I’m sure you won’t mind me getting a few hits in.” You shrug, the blonde laughing.

“No, I don’t mind.” She shakes her head.

“Can I...” Charlotte swallows hard. “Can I ask you something?” She asks and your heart stills in your chest, head bobbing up and down.

“Can I kiss you?” She whispers and your eyes widen, nearly bulging out of your skull.

You open and close your mouth over and over again, trying to find your voice, but you can’t, so wordlessly, you nod.

Charlotte leans forwards slowly, slow enough so in case you want to stop her, you can, but of course, you don’t.

The first brush of your lips is electric, so much so that the two of you abruptly pull apart, eyes wide before you again lean in, your lips finally meeting in a tender kiss.

Charlotte gently takes your waist, pulling you closer as your lips continue to press against one another, the silent room filled with the sound of your soft sighs and the sound of your lips meeting.

Charlotte laughs when you roll over on top of her, straddling her middle as you hover over her, your palms on either side of her head.

You bite your bottom lip with a massive grin, ducking down to again, press your lips against Charlotte’s.

The kisses heat up, the blonde’s lips parting to welcome the pink organ you’d been teasing her lips with.

The second your tongues meet you both groan, tongues caressing each other’s searching for the spots that makes your toes curl.

Charlotte grunts when you pull back, her bottom lip clamped between your teeth.

You look down at her with a massive grin, the woman smiling as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you down on top of her.

You duck your head, pressing playful kisses to the woman neck, the woman erupting into a fit of giggles.

You nuzzle into her pulse point, pressing another kiss to her neck as you snuggle into her chest.

Charlotte holds you close, turning to nuzzle into your hair.

“And to think I thought you were with Bayley...” She mumbles.

“WHAT!?”

#wwe #wwe imagine #charlotte flair #charlotte flair x reader #charlotte flair imagine

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