#but also very very tragic. salt in the wound for danny boy.

[abrielarnold]

When most people ranted, their emotions were stuck firmly in -annoyed!- mode. Sam drifted constantly between -annoyed!- and -frustrated!- and, surprisingly, -jealous!-. It was a rainbow of emotions tapping gently against his nerves.

Real Life by @cordria is the fic that hooked me on spooky!danny fics. Ghosts are blind and feed off emotions. Everything is deliciously tactile, and Danny is Conflicted.

The first few chapters are on ao3 here, and there is a wonderful oneshot here [StarShots 85: You're Not Being You] that takes place a few months afterward and offers a ton of closure.

(Also here's the OG oneshot Real Life is based off of-> StarShots 49)

dannymay prompt: monster

[ortegatrash]

FH:Rebirth fic - Pride

"You know I'm going to ruin you, right?" you purr as you circle the chair Herald’'s tied to. "Mr oh-so-perfect poster boy hero."

Herald shivers, his muscles tight and tense. Too afraid to move. Too afraid to show weakness in front of you. "I'm not afraid of you," he lies, and you tut at him. It's pointless to lie to a telepath and really, he should know that. "W-what do you even want with me?"

Little Danny boy is terrified, and you're the reason why.

It makes you smile, taking a vicious sort of pleasure in his predicament. You can't help but feel a thrill shoot through you at having brought Herald down to your level. On his knees, bound in front of you.

There's a...different sort of thrill that also shoots through you at having Herald in such a vulnerable position kneeling, but you ignore it. As tempting as it might be...no. You're not that sort of villain.

Sure, you could force others to submit to your control easily. But there's just no meaning in it. No satisfaction. Not like turning them to your side and luxuriating in their conflicting emotions, their moral struggles. You want genuine loyalty, not twisted bonds forced under duress.

You know you're not a good person but there are still some lines you refuse to cross. You have your own sort of honour, even if it's not one everyone agrees with.

Be loyal to your people. Everyone else can burn. And if anyone does betray you…

You'll make them pay with extreme prejudice.

You ignore the whispers at the back of your mind, accusing you of being the very sort of person you despise. It's not betrayal if the world abandoned you first. You thought...you thought you had found people to rely on, but even they forgot you and left you to rot.

Never again. That's why they have to pay. That's why you hand picked your new family, made sure to be as loyal to them as they are to you.

A family of your own.

You've never had that before, and they know if any of them dare think about turning on their new brothers and sisters you'll make sure they will regret it. You're strict, not a cruel Father. Not like-

Not like at The Farm. They're not your real parents anyway, you were created, not born. And now you've remade yourself in your own image. Haven't you done an admirable job raising yourself? Learnt how to live. To be human.

That's all you, not what they tried to shape you into. You are proud, proud of who you are and what you are and they will never, ever take that away from you. You refuse to be ashamed anymore. You refuse to bow down to their hatred, to believe yourself lesser for existing.

You are Pride, and you will not. Be. Erased!

Herald moans in pain, and you are momentarily distracted. "Having fun down there?" you hiss.

Herald just glares up at you, refusing to give you the satisfaction of answering your taunts. Honestly, you thought he'd be easier to break before you met him. It's kind of ruining your groove.

"No answer? Hmph. No matter. I can still play with you regardless."

Herald doesn't whimper, but it's a close thing. Honestly, he's trying to put up such a tough front it's almost pitiful. It almost makes you feel like a bit of a bully.

Almost.

"-won't get away with this."

Hm? Oh. It turns out the cat hadn't caught his tongue after all. Well, you're less a cat and more a lion, that's what you styled your armour after, after all. You stand poised in gold and royal red and look just as much of a leader as you feel.

Herald spits in your face and oh. That's incredibly rude, not to mention horribly unhygienic.  Discreetly, you step back to grab a nearby handkerchief and pull your ruined glove off; maybe your priorities are skewed but getting bodily fluids on your armour is one of your pet peeves, blood is already bad enough. At least blood is something expected.

"Tsk, tsk. Didn't your mother teach you spitting was rude?"

Anger. Coldness. Oh, this was interesting. You hadn't expected the surge of negativity that wells up at the mention of his family, it looked like the golden boy didn't have as perfect of a home life as he would seem to have.

"It's not like she'd care what I got up to," Herald scowls. "But at least she wasn’t as psychotic as you! You're deranged, you know!"

You're pleased that the voice distorter turn your amused laughter into a rumbling growl appropriate as the lion you've modeled yourself after.

"Perhaps I am," you tease. "It doesn't change the fact that you're kneeling here at my mercy. You might not want to challenge my goodwill so much, no?"

"I'll- I'll challenge it all I want!" he mutters, looking the picture of a poised, tragic hero even when so obviously outmatched.

It makes you bitter. That even when he's at his lowest he still holds onto some notion of nobility and acting so much better than you. It makes you want to ruin him, drag him down into the dirt with you.

"Oh, is that so?" you say, vicious amusement and genuine anger coalescing into a something more raw and revealing than you would like.

Herald is holding up admirably in the face of the situation. He can't take flight and run away from his problems like he'd like to, so all that terrified energy has turned into furious anger instead. "The others are going to come for me, you know," he tells you, and he truly, honestly believes that. "They're going to come and bring you to justice."

You bristle. How dare he rub it in! How dare he rub it in that he has friends he can rely on while they left you for dead? It makes burn with resentment and that's why you grab his hair in rage and jerk his head back forcibly, making him gasp in pain.

"Argh!” he yells. “W-what are you even doing this for? Do you just like hurting people? That's pathetic."

"I do," you force out, face twisting in fury. He should be afraid. This isn't how it's supposed to go. Why isn't he begging for mercy yet? "And you, Herald, are beginning to test. My. Patience!"

He just looks at you with that infuriating, pitying face. "You call yourself Pride, but I don't see anything in front of me to be proud of. I just see a broken, angry shell." he tells you, and the truth stings, stings so badly because you can read Herald’s mind like a book and you know he genuinely believes that. Genuinely feels sorry for the twisted, cruel mess you've become.

No. No! You will not be pitied anymore! You are not a thing to be pitied anymore-

And then Herald has to go and rub salt in the wound. "People like you are worth nothing but feeling sorry for. You've gone down such a dark path. You know they say pride comes before a fall, right?-"

Fall.

Fall.

Don't- don't fall.

Please, help

Someone, please, anyone!

Ortega? Steel?

.

..

...They're not coming.

No one is coming for you. You always knew that, but you hoped against hope you'd be proven wrong. There are no heroes for things like you, you were the one that tricked them into thinking you were human. The only person you can only rely on yourself.

(You can't stop falling)

Embrace it. Embrace the darkness. It's where you belong.

That's why they have to suffer. They have to understand the pain they put you through…

Don't they?

.

You are not human you will never be one of them they abandoned you and they will pay for looking down on you for treating you as disposable

You will not be a thing anymore.

Never again.

...

...You're hyperventilating.

The armour is giving you warnings that you'll pass out if your blood oxygen level rises much higher and your crew have entered the room and someone is slowly, gently, leading you away.

They don't mention anything about what just happened to you and you're glad for it. You shouldn't have shown such weakness to them. You're supposed to be the indomitable boss, you're not supposed to be a mere, flawed person like the rest of them. You're not supposed to start shaking and fall to your knees from the flashbacks.

It... grates at you that you're too weak to protest the blanket they lay over you, the mug of chicken soup someone places beside you with a straw that'll work through your mask.

The...the understanding and care you pick up from their thoughts. It undermines you, Pride is supposed to be in charge, controlling and caring for your family, not being cared for.

It scares you. You’re not supposed to be scared anymore. You’re supposed to be the one scaring people.

Herald doesn't say a word as they lead away, but you feel his eyes on you following you out.

[severepersonacrime]

Sylvia Likens

This case covers yet another tragic death of a child, a young, sweet 16 year old girl, who will only be remembered for her untimely murder. Her name was Sylvia Likens and she lived the last few months of her life in misery, so much so that this inspired the film 'An American Crime', starring Ellen Page and Catherine Keener, which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2007. While heavily criticised on numerous points by attendees, it can be noted for it's sheer amount of disturbance in terms of portraying the events that led to this heinous crime.

Sylvia Likens was the middle child of Lester and Betty Likens, two carnival workers, on January 3rd 1949. She was born between two sets of fraternal twins, Diana and Danny being born in 1947 and Jenny and Benny in 1950. The family had a very unstable life and, to keep up with moving around the carnival for their parents jobs, were never able to properly settle down anywhere. On top of that, Lester and Betty started having financial and marital problems, causing them to separate for a time.

For a short time in the summer of 1965, Betty lived with Sylvia and Jenny, who was disabled due to catching polio as a young child, in Indianapolis, Indiana, away from the carnival environment. Shortly after, however, Lester got in contact with his estranged wife with the promise of potentially patching up their relationship. Needing some alone time, they got in contact with a local woman, Gertude Baniszewski, the mother of a friend Sylvia had recently made.

It was thought that the reason Lester asked her to take care of them was because he felt pity towards her. Gertrude had dropped out of school at the age of 16 to marry a man with a volatile temper, with who she had 6 children with: Paula, Stephanie, John, Marie, Shirley and James. They were married for 10 years before divorcing and Gertrude got involved with a younger man, 22 year old Dennis Lee Wright. Although he fathered her youngest and seventh child, named Dennis Lee Wright Jr. He was abusive towards her and they eventually separated also. Forced to raise all her children as a single mother, she would babysit and iron in order to raise some money, though this was never enough to feed her family. So when Lester Likens offered the opportunity to earn $20 a week by taking in Sylvia and Jenny, she was quick to accept.

For the first week of Sylvia and Jenny's stay, everything seemed to be normal. The conditions were cramped and food wasn't of the greatest quality, but that week essentially remained incident free. Paula was 17 and became a very close friend of Sylvia, Stephanie was 15 and her and Sylvia often sang together throughout that first week, John was 12, Marie 11, Shirley 10, James 8 and Dennis a few months old. However, the $20 that was promised to Gertrude came late. Unbeknownst to any of the Likens upon initially meeting her, Gertrude was struggling with depression and severe stress, as well as receiving treatment for asthma. So when the money arrived late, Gertrude felt cheated and she took her anger out on the girls, beating both of them with a paddle while screaming at them. A cheque had arrived the next day from Lester, but this didn't stop Gertrude's resent towards the girls as a result. In fact, nothing truly would.

Throughout the coming weeks, the relationship between Sylvia and Paula started to become strained. Paula had been seeing a married man and had realised that she was pregnant with his baby. Paula was too scared to tell her mother, despite the fact that she was her favourite child, but trusted Sylvia enough to let her know. During an altercation with this married man, Sylvia let slip that Paula was pregnant and others at their school overheard. This led to their peers spreading rumours around the school about Paula and soon about Paula and Stephanie both being prostitutes. These rumours eventually made their way back to Gertrude and accused Sylvia of spreading them.

Sylvia soon became the sole target of the abuse. She was humiliated for even the simplest things, including once having had a boyfriend and accusing her of things that she did not do. If Sylvia was even seen talking to a boy on any given occasion, she would be labelled as a whore or a prostitute, which only worsened the abuse. Gertrude would encourage her own children to hurt Sylvia, including burning their cigarettes on her arm, punching her, kicking her, pushing her down the stairs and was even forced to insert a coke bottle into her vagina.

This was not even enough for Gertrude, as she even invited many of the neighbourhood children over to partake in the torture, including Stephanie's boyfriend Coy Hubbard. She would be tied up, forced to eat and drink her own urine and faeces, using her as a dummy for judo practice, lacerating her, burning her body with scalding hot water or matches and rubbing salt onto her wounds. Jenny was unable to tell anyone about the ongoing abuse as she was threatened with the same treatment if she revealed anything. The girls also had barely any contact with their parents either, as Gertrude disposed of any letters that the girls received from them. People in the community knew about the mistreatment, but were scared to report it because of potential consequences they faced.

When Sylvia had to resort to stealing a gym uniform at school, Gertrude grew increasingly angrily and forbade her from going back to school. She was also whipped numerous times and kicked in the vagina. This constant abuse day by day caused Sylvia to become incontinent and urinated herself after being denied access to the bathroom. This was the last straw for Gertrude and Sylvia was thrown into the basement.

In the basement, Sylvia was nothing more than a caged animal used for people's amusement. She was kept naked and starved and often restrained, sometimes in a bath tub full of scalding water. Abuse of Sylvia became part of the daily routine in the Baniszewski household. Gertrude even started charging the neighbourhood children 5 cents to watch Sylvia be tortured, beaten, mutilated and burned.

On October 22nd, Sylvia was eventually allowed back upstairs after complying to the constant torture. However, she urinated again that night and the worst of the torture was to take place as a result. Sylvia was forced to masturbate with a soda bottle in front of Gertrude's children and was then stripped naked and restrained while Gertrude carved the words “I'm a prostitute and proud of it” onto her stomach with a hot needle, with other neighbourhood kid Richard Hobbs finishing the inscription. The S was then  burned with an iron poker into her chest. Gertrude's reasoning for this was that with this on her abdomen, no man would ever want to marry her and was forced to return back to the basement. It was at this point that Sylvia knew that she was going to die.

The next day, Gertrude forged a letter to Lester and Betty, saying that Sylvia had run away and framing a group of anonymous boys for the abuse. That night, Gertrude hatched a plan with John, which involved blindfolding Sylvia and leaving her to die in a nearby wooded area. Sylvia overheard this plan and attempted to escape the basement. Sylvia made it as far as the door, but due to her injuries, she wasn't fast enough and was caught by Gertrude. She was thrown back into the basement and beaten until rendered unconscious. When she woke again, she was unable to speak intelligibly and could barely move her limbs but this did not stop her from trying to get out of the basement again. However, she collapsed and was found by Gertrude, who crushed her head with her feet.  

On October 26th, Sylvia was found by Stephanie and Richard, unconscious and not breathing. Stephanie attempted to give her mouth to mouth, but Gertrude repeatedly insisted that Sylvia was faking it. Yet enough time passed for them to truly realise that Sylvia was dead. Richard Hobbs called the police on a nearby pay phone and Gertrude presented the forged letter as proof that the family had nothing to do with Sylvia's death. For a moment, they thought they had gotten away with murder, until Jenny came to one of the officer's and said “Get me out of here and I'll tell you everything”. Gertrude, the eldest three children, Richard, Coy and multiple neighbourhood children were arrested following this new provision of information.

The autopsy revealed that Sylvia had died from a brain haemorrhage, shock and malnutrition. Her nails had been bent backwards and most of her skin's outer layer had been peeled off. She had numerous bruises, burns, cuts, muscle and nerve damage. Her vaginal cavity was nearly swollen shut, but her hymen was still intact, disproving Gertrude's assertions that Sylvia had even had sexual intercourse or was a prostitute.

Only five people involved in Sylvia's death were tried: Gertrude, Paula, John, Richard and Coy. Gertrude pleaded not guilty to charges of first degree murder by reason of insanity and the attorneys for all of the minors claimed that they were pressured by Gertrude to partake in the abuse. The remaining children, various neighbourhood kids and the Likens were made to testify at the trial. The eye-witness accounts that were provided was not in Gertrude's favour, as many testified that they witnessed Gertrude beating Sylvia and that they were forced also.

Gertrude was convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life imprisonment; her plea of insanity was denied. Paula was convicted of second degree murder and was also sentenced to life imprisonment. While in custody, she gave birth to a daughter, called her Gertrude and gave her up for adoption. Richard, Coy and John were convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to 2-21 years in prison. The three boys were released on parole two years later.

In 1971, both Gertrude and Paula requested a retrial, citing bias against them due to intense media coverage regarding the case at the time. Paula pleaded guilty to voluntary manslaughter, and, due to the time she had already served, was released one year later. Gertrude's sentence remained the same and spent another 14 years in prison. However, she was recognised for her good behaviour and her maternal nature towards the other inmates, often being referred to as “Mom”. Her parole hearing was met with mass protests by various human rights organisations and the Likens family, to name a few. A petition went around the area, with over 40,000 people signing to keep Gertrude behind bars.

However, she was released on 4th December 1985, changed her name to Nadine Van Fossan, and relocated to Iowa. She remained there until 1990, when she died of lung cancer. Paula changed her name to Paula Pace and worked as an assistant for a school counsellor for 14 years, however she lied in her application and was fired when the truth was revealed. Stephanie also assumed a new name and is now married with children. John changed his name to John Blake devoted his life to ensuring that young criminals are able to get the help they need in order to turn their lives around – he died of diabetes at age 52 on May 19th 2005. Coy Hubbard became a repeat offender, even being charged with the murder of two men, however those charges were acquitted. He died of a heart attack at 56 on June 23rd 2007. Richard Hobbs died four years after his release from prison of cancer, at age 21. The Baniszewski house was demolished in 2009 after it remained vacant for years.

It is hard to say whether Sylvia and her family received true justice. After all, the main culprits were released for good behaviour before their sentences were truly over. Given the disturbing nature of the crime itself, it seems almost laughable that many of these people were able to live their life under new identity and start over when Sylvia was not given that same chance. The Likens have expressed outrage against these rulings but they have since been ignored. All in all, Sylvia Likens will be remembered only for her horrific death and not for the kind-hearted person she really was.