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Orphans of the night

Orphans of the night

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing4h 25m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Sep 26, 2025
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Fanfic
Demi Lovato
They call me Blossom. Cute name, right? Don't be fooled. That's not my real name, it's the one I gave myself when the streets became my only family. Out here, every day is a fight. A fight to eat, a fight to stay warm, a fight to keep from disappearing into the cracks of a city that doesn't even notice you're alive. It wasn't always like this. There was a time when I had a roof, a bed, and other kids who felt just as lost as I did. But when the orphanage collapsed under debt, they shipped most of the kids off to foster homes. The rest of us? We weren't so lucky. We were the leftovers. Disposable. We didn't get homes, we got the streets. And the streets don't care if you're 15 or 50. They chew you up, spit you out, and dare you to survive another night. That was my life. Cold, hungry, invisible. Until one night, luck or maybe fate, threw me into the path of someone who would change everything. Someone the world worshiped, but I didn't even recognize: Demi Lovato.
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He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?

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