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❛ what is more unfair than having to choose between being a monster or being a hero?
when you have to be both.
when you learn that the road to hell is paved with more than just good intentions.
you are not heads or tails; you are the coin. ❜
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GOLDEN ICHOR SPILLS FROM POISONED VEINS, SHINES OUT FROM SPLIT CAPILLERIERS, PAST THE MOTTLED BLACK AND BLUE BRUISES THAT STAIN REYNA'S SKIN, AND IT STILL ISN'T ENOUGH TO DETER HER DESTINY. She will bleed for their cause, for the innocent people that beg for help, but it will never be her choice.
This world, this life, belongs to somebody else. She is not made for laurels of victory, never designed to be hailed as a hero. When she stumbles, when she's given that first taste of the darkness ━━ it's all-consuming.
It's the dark and it's the light and it is not of this world. The final spark of a dying sun, the last breath of a god about to slip into the infinity of the Source; they are her gifts, they are her curse, they are her inheritance.
The marrow of her bones holds only shame, only guilt, and she watches as everything falls apart. Her clothes are coated in crimson, but somewhere in between the loathing and the shame, the sadness and the apathy, relief lies in wait.
The hero's life isn't, wasn't, her choice, and now her halo is singed from hellfire, her wings are scorched from the sun ━━ Reyna Mercy is her own fallen angel, cast out of kingdom come and sent to the depths, surrounded by those just as monstrous as her. Clipped wings don't allow much flight, but the soaring skies and the gods they hold are exactly what Reyna has been trying to avoid.
But their legacies, the ones that take on names with blood-stained history, don't seem to get that. Old debts must be paid and even now, mask burned in a fit of rage, Reyna understands that better than most.
And her debt to Dick Grayson is insurmountable, a cataclysmic thing that rests of her shoulders like a boulder. She is Atlas and that thing she did, that thing he helped hide, that is the weight of the world, all the poisonous secrets seeping into the ichor she is made from.
Dead men tell no tales, but the living whisper among themselves, trading secrets like currency, and Reyna knows it's only a matter of time before her truth rises to the surface. There's no outrunning what happened anymore, no chance to avoid her sins ━━ there's only here and now, the darkness of Gotham City covering her like a second skin, ready to put out the fire in her soul that's supposed to be six feet under.
This is her life now, but it is not, will not, be her choice. Golden blood falls from cuts unwillingly drawn and Reyna knows, deep down, she'll die like this; in a mask, with costumed freaks behind her. This is the debt she owes, the thing she cannot ignore anymore. This world doesn't belong to her, maybe, but it will gladly take her.
Let the punishment fit the crime, says the universe, and who is Reyna to argue?
★
↝ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 Reyna is everything to me!!!! Religious trauma + guilt complex... very sexy of her indeed. Much like how Fall From Grace is a deep dive into Green Lantern mythology... we're doing Krypton this time okay we are it's gonna be insane it's gonna be a little violent I love it so much?? I'm mashing up a lot of stuff in here but yeah!!!! It's gonna be fun I love reincarnation and destiny etc etc etc so have that lmao.
This is also an AU, I guess?? Between season 2&3 but written before we even had a trailer for season 3 because I'm a rebel like that. Team is exactly what you saw at the end of season 2, yes, Donna is dead, no, she did not die the same way she did in the show. I have a trope re: her death it's gonna be revealed in this fic and you're gonna have to live with it.
The cover and opening GIF that I eternally obsessed with were made by Julia AKA the greatest graphic designer in existence who you should all be following at this point.
En knee ways... I hope you enjoy this fic that only exists because one line of prose appeared in my head at random. It spiralled from there, I regret nothing, please enjoy.
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