Spot Conlon x Reader | The Queen Of Queens

Join The Strike

Bro, this chapter and the next one have a lot of gore, mainly the next one. Okie dokie, love y'all.

1899

"Y/n! Where are you?" I hear the voice of my older brother call to me. I seem to be in an empty void, floating. I turn to the voice and see my brothers and sister, who I haven't seen in 4 years.

"Bruddas? Where's mom and dad?" I ask them, they shake their heads.

"Haven't you heard? Theyse dead," my older brother says. I scoff.

"No they isn't," I say. They all start burning, melting into nothing more than puddles om the floor. "AHHHH!!!"

"You should be tooooooo..." They all say, grabbing at my legs, causing me to start melting as well. "You shouldn't have left us alone..."

"I'm so sorry! Please! I just wanted to be a newsie!" I feel my stomach start to turn into tar.

"Diiiiieeeeeee!!!" They all scream, my screaming is blocked by the tar entering my lungs, I suddenly can't breathe.

Help...

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My eyes shoot open to knocking at my door. Sitting up in my personal bed in my personal room, I look to the door, knowing who it is.

"Come in," my voice commands the person knocking.

"Undahand, there's someone 'ere tah see ya," Paces tells me. I gain a confused face, not many people choose to see the Queen of Queens. 

"Bring 'em in, Pace." I stretch my body, letting my neck crack loudly as the door squeaks open, showing me a small boy, around the age of 5 or 6.

"Hi dere, miss, my name is Benny. I just got kicked out of my home and I was wond'rin' if I could woik as one of your newsies?" The boy speaks timidly. I choose to be nice and smile at him.

"Of course you can kid, all is welcomed 'ere. Just a tip, though, ya don't 'aveta ask permission by da leader tah become a newsie. They call me Undahand, do you have any nickname? And how old are ya?" I ask him, trying to make this kid less shy.

"I'm seven. Um, not that I know of, no?" Benny starts to shake. I stand up and walk over to him, picking him up like he weighs nothing, and I hold him with one arm.

"Well then, Benny, it would be an honor to join you on ya foist day as a newsie in orda to find out your nickname," I say with a smile, which he graciously returns.

I put him on my shoulders and walk out, putting on an neutral "don't mess with me" face, which is contradicted by the smiling kid on my shoulders. While walking out the door, I get a lot of stares by the boys, mostly those of confusion, but I just smile at them and walk by.

I'm the toughest newsie in all of New York, no one questions what I do. And just because I'm tough, doesn't mean I can't help out the little ones, that's practically all I do. I don't wear the traditional newsie outfit, so my outfit means I have to let my hair down without a newsie cap most of the time.

Being 15 means that sometimes you can get some creeps paying you extra and "wanting what they paid for" which sucks, but lucky for me, I always carry my brass knuckles. And today means that I need to be more careful, as I have a kid to care for.

"Unda! I've got news!" I hear my newsie, Lightning, call for me. I turn around and eye him. "There's a strike goin' on. Afta the jack up in price, the Manhattan newsies started a strike. You know dat theyse gonna ask ya to strike." I roll my eyes.