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monimmortal · 3 years

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My Immortal is the quintessential piece of bad fanfiction, a story so notorious that the very concept of badfic immediately brings up mention of it in virtually any circle. Much like a discussion about bad movies inevitably breaks down into someone screaming quotes from The Room into the middle distance in a terrible impression of an even worse accent, My Immortal is a guarantee whenever bad fanfiction comes up. It’s risen above the entry-level masterworks like My Inner Life and “the Goku/Anne Frank” fic, and with its sheer fame completely obscured the deep cuts of a 4 AM fanfiction.net binge where you learn things about yourself that you were much better off not knowing. Regardless of a person’s fandom or even how into fanfic they are, they understand the story to be the utter distillation of everything terrible about fanfic. There is something for everyone, whether the dark specter of a writer’s own teenage shames or something to cackle quotes from and spiral off into dramatic readings of. No fanfic has ever united people across barriers of fandom so easily.

And it’s all a lie.

Several months ago, I wrote a rather long-winded explanation of how My Immortal is not the creation of a teenage girl embodying the very worst in fanfic writers, but in fact the most masterfully-constructed piece of troll fiction ever conceived, which has, for going on nine years, managed to fool the internet at large into believing it completely genuine. But I was left unsatisfied with the initial result, which didn’t delve as deep as I would have liked into the points it raised, and missed quite a few important parts. So I’m making a second pass on the, hopefully concisely enough that I don’t need to make a third, because after writing a second essay about My Immortal, heaven knows I’m miserable now.

Special thanks to oisiflaneur for proofreading this 14,000+ word monster.

Preamble: People Who Are Young And Alive

For the purposes of best understanding everything I’m about to talk about, I suggest going and reading My Immortal first. ‘Context’ might not be the best way to explain what you’ll get by knowing what I’m referring to, but familiarity with the source material will make this a much easier read. Due to it having been long-since purged from fanfiction.net, you can find it reposted across the internet, in particular here. It is quite a read and I greatly reccomend it, although I do so as somebody who has read through countless times and liked it enough to write thousands upon thousands of words about it.

However, it’s certainly not an easy read for some people due to its clusterfuck of misspellings and incomprehensibility, so in addition to the quotes and excerpts I will provide to illustrate my points, I will briefly give a quick rundown of the major players in our tale.

Our heroine, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way’s own words sum up her existence better than I ever could:

Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

This paragraph is the first of the story, and it is also the longest of the story, saying so much and yet so little about our protagonist. We know almost nothing of the personality that she is alleged to possess, but we do know that she wishes to be familially related to Gerard Way because she finds him attractive, and presumably has an incest kink that will never be touched upon again in the story. The rest of this thesis will touch on all of the other woeful elements of this monstrous violation of ‘show, don’t tell’, but now you have the definitive look at who and what Ebony is.

Ebony is in love with Draco Malfoy, who save for a few minor elements remains largely unchanged in My Immortal. The same cannot be said for Harry “Vampire” Potter;

In the Great Hall, I ate some Count Chocula cereal with blood instead of milk, and a glass of red blood. Suddenly someone bumped into me. All the blood spilled over my top.

“Bastard!” I shouted angrily. I regretted saying it when I looked up cause I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with spiky black hair with red streaks in it. He was wearing so much eyeliner that I was going down his face and he was wearing black lipstick. He didn’t have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Draco’s and there was no scar on his forhead anymore. He had a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy English accent. He looked exactly like Joel Madden. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a girl so I didn’t get one you sicko.

If nothing else, it’s certainly a nice change from the usual traits about his mother’s eyes and taped-up glasses. In this story, Harry goes by ‘Vampire’; he used to date Draco Malfoy and they got tattoos with each others’ names, he is gothic and now part of Slytherin for reasons never elaborated upon – these two traits go hand-in-hand for every character in the story– and resembles the lead singer of Good Charlotte for some reason. Thankfully, our author also notes that the character who was born, raised, and lives his entire life in Great Britain happens to have a “sexy English accent”.

“Satan” is the name that Tom Riddle went by when he was a Hogwarts student. In the 1980s. And gothic. We’ll touch on him a little later. There’s a lot of trainwreck going on here, in case you haven’t noticed.

The two meta players to what is one of the greatest internet performance art pieces ever created are our author Tara Gilesbie, and her best friend/beta reader Raven, noted in the story by her own self-insert Willow. I have a lot to say about these two, who are characters in their own ways and who the understanding of is vital to seeing My Immortal as something greater than it appears to be. Tara is a budding teenage writer, Harry Potter, and goth, who doesn’t like that people keep ‘flassing’ her story and threatens self-mutilation as retribution for it, because if there is one thing the mid-2000s internet was, it was caring and serious about such issues. She plays it rather loose with things like literary devices or the English language, as we shall see.

Part 1: Bigmouth Strikes Again – Matters of “Da Story and Spelling”

Upon reading My Immortal for the first time, one of the most egregious and clear issues with the story lies within the spelling and grammar: they’re fucking abysmal. You can see it in the author’s notes right away, and it slowly trickles into the story itself. It starts with ridiculous run-on sentences that seem more like lists than the placement of words into a coherent and complete thought, delivered in a halting and completely jarring cadence. Allegedly, Tara’s friend Raven is editing the story until chapter 15 – more on her later – but even under her tenure as beta, little slips become more frequent. The job of trying to edit something so terrible would certainly be taxing and likely require intensive rewrites of whole chapters at a time, and it’s understandable that perhaps someone would simply be past the point of being able to handle this, and would get sloppier in their job. Chapter eleven, where the author’s note explicitly stated Raven helped, contains of the most infamous and brilliant mistakes in the entire work; ‘Loopin’ 'masticating’.

Once Raven leaves as Tara’s editor, the story nosedives even further into a death spiral of spelling and grammar. Typos become common and any lip service paid to writing words out fully is discarded. Without a beta, we see the depths of Tara’s unfettered lack of shits given for her story to come off as anything resembling presentable. And it needs to be this way, because one of the hallmarks of bad fanfiction is being incomprehensible. Not quite as much as it once was in the days before My Immortal shook the scene up, but it’s a clear indicator of the writer being unprincipled and very young, which are all vital to the character of Tara. The story needs to be poorly written, because if it isn’t, a site like fanfiction.net which, let’s be honest, doesn’t have very high standards–or really any at all–won’t react with all the venom and vitriol the story is meant to induce. It would merely fly under the radar as another mediocre story in the ever-swelling Harry Potter section, which even years after the fandom has cooled off, still moves faster than any person can possibly read through completely. That’s why the author’s notes are so terribly formatted; the very first thing a reader will see upon opening the story is, “Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik)”.

And it is that word 'goffik’, my darlings, that marks the first place in My Immortal where Tonstant Weader fwowed up.

Everyone who types regularly can see certain little flubs and bad habits develop in their words; muscle memory kicking them in the ass and accidentally writing an incredibly similar word, or having some consistent errors that come through very clearly. And she does have a few, such as “jacket” as “jackson” (chapters 26, 37, 41, 42) and “converse” as “congress shoes” (chapters 24, 39, 41, 42), but they are few and far between in a dizzying array of random misspellings as chaotic as the story itself. They’re just layered beneath what is already a no-shits-given typing style that was back then incredibly commonplace within the subculture presented in the story, but they can be made out clearly if looked for beyond using Z in place of S or 'da’ for 'the’.

The easiest case to make in this regard is with names. Nobody has their names consistently spelled correctly, but they aren’t even consistent in their incorrectness. Our main character, Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, is referred to as Enoby, Enony, Egogy, TaEbory, Ebony, and Evony, among others. Hagrid’s name is spelled correctly a grand total of zero times, but can be noticed as Hargrid, Hairgird, HAHRID, Hargirid, etc. Is her boyfriend Draco, or is he Drako, Darko, or Drago? Voldemort has almost as many misspellings as he does appearances; Volfemort, Vlodemort, Volxemort, Voldemint, Volremot, and Darth Valer, to name a few. Sirius Black becomes Serifs, Series, Sodomize, Socrates, and my personal favorite, Spartacus. Professor Slutgorn, Cornelia Fuck, Dumblewhore, Preacher McGongal are also highlights.

But there’s perhaps too much convenience in how words become other words so easily. From Loopin’s mastication and the pointing of his womb, to being sent not to Azkaban but to Azerbaijan, to recording a sex tape on a caramel, to Dracon being hung like a Stallone, the story is littered with mistakes that seem almost too good to be true. Not all of this can be explained away as just a stray finger. Some of them defy keyboard logic in how they came to be, and somebody who could be that sloppy with a keyboard would be incapable of making sentences that could even be pieced together by someone intent on understanding what was meant by them, which as it stands is already how much of My Immortal is written. Sort of like Finnegan’s Wake, except the analysis of it is performed by significantly sadder people.

Matters like Azerbaijan and caramel might be explained away by spellcheck, if there was even the slightest evidence that Tara spellchecked any of this. It’s very, very apparent that she didn’t, because these passages are surrounded by misspellings that have gone unedited and unfixed, which means that she had to type out these words to the full extent manually.

Could it be some kind of celestial alignment that leads to there being so many absolutely perfect typos? It could be. But I believe that the typos not in fact the meanderings of someone who doesn’t care, but in fact a labour of love from someone who cares far, far too much. Poor typing habits and a lack of care for what’s being put down are hallmarks of bad writing, and My Immortal strives to push it to heights that become almost impossible for an actual human being to accidentally make. Words are put into the story that aren’t even in the same neighborhood as the ones they’re supposed to be, and names steadily spin out of control in ever-escalating insanity like a Fibonacci sequence from hell.

In the chapter 4 author’s note, Tara notes “her name is ENOBY nut mary su ok!” In chapter 12, hot off the heels of Loopin masticating is the line, “Who MASTABATED (c is dat speld rong) to it he added silently.” What are the odds that she misspells the words on the two occasions where it matters most? In particular the latter one, where you’d think she would bother looking the word back over first to make sure it wasn’t, in fact, misspelled. Raven doesn’t pick up on it either, even though as we’ll see later she is most certainly capable of spelling words properly. It highlights the character of Tara’s hubris and incompetence, that she points out that she spelled a word correctly when she in fact had not. Someone who cares enough to show up the haters mid-story, but not enough to make sure they’re actually doing so.

Accompanying the more clearly intentional mistakes is the steady clumsiness that grows with the word count. Misspellings become more prevalent and less attention is put into trying to look like words, and while the tipping point is certainly Raven rescinding her service as an editor, it’s also a measured and slow degradation. We’ll go over this in more detail in part eight, but it is rather damning that the story doesn’t just plummet right through the floor once Raven isn’t working on making it presentable, as it reasonably should. Instead, it s a careful and measured breakdown. For comparison’s sake, let’s take the opening of chapter 15, which is the final Raven-edited chapter before the breakup:

“Ebony Ebony!” shouted Draco sadly. “No, please, come back!”

But I was too mad.

“Whatever! Now u can go anh have sex with Vampire!” I shouted. I stormed into my room and closed my black door with my blood-red key. It had a picture of Marylin Manson on it. He looked so sexy in a way that reminded me of Draco and Vampire. I started to cry and weep. I took a razor and started to slit my wrists. I drank the blood all depressed. Then I looked at my black GC watch and noticed it was time to go to Biology class.

And chapter 16, where their relationship reaches its peak and Raven has left as editor:

We ran happily to Hogsmede. There we saw the stage where GC had played. We ran in happly. MCR were there playing ‘Helena’. I was so fucking happy! Gerard looked even sexier than he did in da pictures. Even Draco thought so, I could totally see him getting an erection but it didn’t matter cuz I knew know that we were da only true ones for eachother. I was wearing a black leather minidress and black leather platinum boots with red ripped fishnets. Draco was wearing a black baggy MCR t-shirt and black baggy pants. Anyway, we stated moshing to Helena. We frenched. We ran up 2 the front of the band to stage-dive. Suddenly, Gerard pulled off his mask. So did the others. We gasped. It wasn’t them at all. It was.,……………………….. Volsemort and da Death Dealers

There are certainly a few more typos in this sample, and we see 'da’ and 'cuz’ slip through without Raven’s guidance, but overall they don’t seem too far apart. 'Volsemort’ is the only thing that is clearly down to a typo rather than laziness. But let’s jump into Morty McFli’s “tim machine” and see how chapter 26 opens:

A few mutates later Vampire came 2 da tree. He was wearing a blak leather jackson, black leather pants and a Good Chralotte t-shirt.

“Hi Vampire.” I said flirtily as I started to sob. Draco hugged me sexily tryont to comfrot me. I started to cry tears of blood and then told them what happened.

“Oh fuck it!” Vampire shouted angrily. He4 started to cry sadly. “What fucking dick did that!”

“I don’t know.” I said. “Now come on we have 2 tell Dumbledor.”

We ran out of the tree and in2 da castle. Dumblydor was sitting in his office.

“Sire are dads have been shot!” Draco said while we wipped sum tears from his white face. “Enoby had a vision in a dreem.”

Dubleodre started to cockle. “Hahahaha! And How due u aspect me to know Ebony’s not divisional?

It’s night and fucking day. Raven’s presence was clearly not the only thing keeping Tara’s spelling in check, because she started off just fine without her, but somewhere along the next ten chapters clearly lost her way. But hey, just for comparison’s sake, let’s see if ten more chapters supports my claim. Chapter 36:

I loked around in a depresed way. Suddenly I saw Profesor Sinister. B’lody Mary, Socrates and Draco, Vampire and Willow were their to.

“OMFG Sorius I saw u nd Samaro and Snip nd everyone!11111 I kant beleev Snap uzd 2 b goffik!111111”

“Yah I no.” Serious said sadly.

“Oh hey there bitch.” Profesor Trevolry said in an emo voice dirnking some Volxemortserom.

Hi fuker.” I said. “Lizzen, Satan asked me out to a gottik cornet and a movie so I need a sexah new outfit for da date. Also I’m playng in a gothic band so I need an ootfit for that too.”

“Oh my satan!1” (geddit lolz koz shes gofik) gasped B’lody Mary. “Want 2 go to Hot Topik to shop 4 ur outfit?”

“OMFS, letz have a groop kutting session!11” said Profesor Trevolry.

“I can’t fucking wait 4 dat but we need 2 get sum stuff first.” said Willow.

“Yah we need sum portions for Profesor Trevolry so she wont be adikted 2 Volxemortserum anymore nd also………….sum luv potion 4 Enoby.” Darko said resultantly.

It’s almost difficult to believe they’re from the same story we saw twenty chapters ago, and it’s sure as hell not because Tara has improved her craft. Within the confines of the story itself, it seems so gradual that you might not even realize it, but laid out in chunks like that, can you really say it’s not someone trying their best to destroy as many words as they possibly can?

Part 2: It’s Gruesome That Someone So Handsome Should Care – Matters of Identity and “Goffikness”

At the very core of My Immortal is what Tara believes being a goth to be. From the very first sentence of the first author’s note we learn this fact, and the first paragraph in the story, which is also the longest, is devoted to showing that Ebony is as well. Whether or not one is a goth becomes the most important character trait for the entire cast and defines their relationships with one another. Throughout the story, we are regaled with all the evidence of band fandom and other ultimately superficial traits that assure us that these characters are indeed true goths. The only things that receive anything approaching description are the clothes Ebony wears, all black and leather and band t-shirts. Nothing matters more than being a goth.

In this strange world, Ebony’s lifestyle is supported in ways that are beyond belief. Merchandising is so invasively ever-present that you can buy just about anything branded with her interests. In chapter 38, Satan smokes a Nightmare Before Christmas cigar (over a decade before The Nightmare Before Christmas came out), capes can bear Avril Lavigne’s face on them without anyone raising an eyebrow, and cars have pentagram decals all over them. Although band t-shirts are perfectly normal – and if I’m anything to go by, having pretty much nothing but band shirts isn’t unheard of – Ebony also has a wide range of band-branded everything, like skirts that have 'Simple Plan’ written across her ass.

Ebony looks like Amy Lee, and any boy she thinks is attractive will invariably be compared to the lead members of bands she likes, because those positive associations are marks of her dedication.

In the world of My Immortal, being a goth or a prep is not down to musical choices and circles of friends, but instead a sweeping statement about where you fall in matters of good and evil. Everyone she approves of fits her lifestyle whether it makes sense for the character to or not, radically changing their personalities to fall into the box she wants them to. The Golden Trio, alongside Ginny and Neville all goth up and convert to Slytherin, because as the 'dark’ house it is the only logical place for goths to go be. She does not have any friends who aren’t goths, because to not be a goth is to a prep, and preps are evil. Preps have middle fingers put up at them when they do nothing wrong, because on mere principle they must be hated and despised.

Which forms one of the many problems with the plot, but one that is not specific to the madness of Tara Gilesbie. At almost no point do characters coded as preps actually do anything wrong. Britney is consistently insulted and called a 'fucking prep’ in every appearance she has as though 'prep’ is an earth-shattering slur. Her presence consists entirely of being in a room, sometimes with middle fingers put up at her, and in one case, singled out by Professor Trevolry to do extra homework, because Trevolry is a goff teacher, which means she punishes preps for being preps. The only time Britney does anything wrong is in the final chapter, when it’s revealed that she released Snap and Loopin from Azerbaijan.

Britney is also the only actually preppy character in the story. We know this because she wears pink and little else, due to the lack of dialogue or character shown. But other people are referred to as preps constantly, including Snoop, Lumpkin, and Valmont. As are everyone who criticizes the story. We receive no indication for these, and often they are completely baffling for how decidedly un-preppy these characters truly are, but it’s vital to the narrative and the division of the cast that everyone Ebony does not approve of is a prep.

It’s not an uncommon attitude among teenagers, especially those with interest or belonging to subcultures out of the approved mainstream, to draw lines and assume everyone who falls into divisions other than them are inherently opposed to them. The idea that anyone who isn’t different must assume that difference is bad is so pervasive that it often comes to define works of fiction taking place in high school, even when written by grown-ass adults, because it provides cheap and easy conflict. Most teenagers grow fairly quickly out of this, but because of its convenience as a device, it persists. Tara is far from the only person to ever believe this, but the degree to which she takes it is a little further than most do, lumping the world into only two categories, but defining 'them’ as a one-dimensional army of preps even when they’re the opposite of preppy.

Which makes it an incredibly mockable and therefore desirable angle to write her plot through, doesn’t it?

Once again setting herself up for incredible failure is the fact that she’s completely off the fucking mark about what a goth is. With favorite bands ranging from My Chemical Romance, Evanessence, and Linkin Park, to a bizarre interest in pop punk through Simple Plan and Good Charlotte, her taste in goth music is a lot like her taste in klezmer; it doesn’t fucking exist. This is not the musical taste of a broody, dark goth, it’s the stock standard taste of a teenaged rock fan in 2006, which is exactly what it’s supposed to be. To believe this is all to be pure, gothic music is to be so disconnected from the entire concept of the goth subculture that Tara would have to have not even given it a cursory Googling to discover what sort of music goths listened to.

This 2006; 'emo’ was already a word so pervasive that it was insufferable, but had TaEbory identified as emo, she would have lost one vital piece of the puzzle. Merely being wrong or incredibly forward about one’s identity isn’t enough; she had to be both simultaneously. Her fervid defense of what it is to be a goth, paired with being so off the mark, turns her into a hypocrite and a fool, a strawman whose every word is only making worse her whole case. It makes her stand out as a special and egregious case, an author so wrong about everything and whose self-insert only looks worse off for it. And this is how My Immortal rose to the top of an ocean of mediocre, bad, and downright terrible fanfiction.

Dubious musical categorizations aside, another element of the gothicness that pervades the story is authenticity. Among the more snobbish and elitist of any subculture since the beginning of time, the desire to be seen as authentic and real is an incredibly pervasive element that My Immortal predictably lingers on quite heavily. “Poser” is a word loaded with as much venom as prep is, because in the false dichotomy Tara instills upon the world, to have airs of goffikness while not truly being a goff is just as evil as wearing pink is. Perhaps even more so, because these fakers are infiltrating her circles. When Tara and Raven cease being friends, Raven’s stand-in Willow is referred to as a poser. When Draco feels betrayed upon discovering that Voldemort has tasked Ebony with killing Vampire, he refers to her as a “poser muggle bitch”.

While we can’t hold My Immortal to a rigid understanding of proper Harry Potter canon, it does explain a lot about Tara’s worldview. Draco Malfoy has spent his whole life of privilege being taught about the importance of blood purity by his parents, who — we’re all adults here, right? We can accept this? — are fucking wizard nazis. A lot of his early character is specifically centered around his beliefs on blood purity and his use of slurs like 'mudblood’ toward Hermione and dismissals of families like the Weasleys as blood traitors. Such traits are so surface level and blatant that even someone like Tara could pick up on them, which makes the inclusion of 'poser’ in his insult, a triple threat along with fantastical racism and straight-up sexism, into something very telling about just how important it is in her version of the Harry Potter universe to be seen as genuine.

You can’t simply become a goth, you have to already be one. You have to shop at the 'real goth stores’, which are known only to goths. Any attempt to learn of them is met with derision, because goffikness is not something you can attain, except for all the characters who are noted in their new backstories to have become goffs in their transfers over to Slytherin.

Simmering underneath this obsession with being seen as authentic, with a narrative that constantly asserts with very insecure undertones just how much Tara wants to be seen as a real goth, is how shallow her interests really are. She prattles off lists of the clothing she and her friends wear like she’s Patrick Bateman, a laundry list whose obsessive detail forms the only proper description anything in the story receives. And much like in American Psycho, the narrator’s obsession with clothes comes off as remarkably phony, a desire to fit in with a group they desire to be a part of through a series of checklist points, although while Patrick Bateman is deranged within the narrative, you must go one level of abstraction away from the character’s portrayal in the universe, to look on a metafictional level into the delusions of Tara to see where she gets it all so wrong.

We’re told in the narrative that Ebony is depressed and suicidal time and again, but despite slitting her wrists in lieu of an afternoon snack, we never truly see actual depression. She uses 'depressed’ in ways that don’t really make sense, such as to describe the movie Corpse Bride, coloured contact lenses, and makeout sessions. Chapter three even contains the passage, “'Hi Draco!’ I said in a depressed voice.” Given how wonderfully the entire world caters to Ebony and the fact Tara seems to not really understand what it means, it comes off not like Ebony is a character that actually has depression, but instead that since depression is gothic, she must therefore possess it. She isn’t somebody who wears black on the outside because black is how she feels on the inside, she just says she’s depressed because it’s all a part of the goth package.

As is Satanism, which Ebony is apparently an adherent of. Much like being depressed, a vampire, listening to Simple Plan, and being a Slytherin, it is vital to the gothic identity that you are a Satanist, even if you don’t know what Satanism is. That you sometimes refuse to acknowledge the words 'cross’ and 'god’. It’s so casually mentioned and without even the slightest bit of conviction that it feels thrown in by someone who doesn’t really care, but, once again, wants to fit in.

The end result is an all-encompassing, story ruining obsession with ensuring the reader know and believe that Ebony–and by extension the author she is an avatar of–is the most true and devout goth in the world. Setting herself up to be so very, very wrong on this account is an easy way to discredit Tara and add another layer of pure mockability to the story. She is truly the greatest poser of all, and her entire worldview comes crumbling down around her under the slightest scrutiny, all by design.

Part 3: Just a Miserable Lie – The Impossible Mistakes

This news may shock and surprise you, so make sure you are very securely strapped your seat.

My Immortal is not entirely consistent.

Certain little things creep out of the woodwork in both the narrative and off to the side, hidden amid all of the craziness around them, that I believe are little winks at the camera on the part of the author. Hints meant to clue you in as to the fact that this whole thing is, in fact, one big joke. A lot of them have gone rather unnoticed, it seems, but let’s start with the most noticeable of all.

In chapter 31, we meet Tom Bombadil. I’m not fucking with you, here, it really does happen.

Suddenly I was in fornt of teh School. In front of me wuz one of da sexiest goth guyz I had ever seen. He was wering long blak hair, kinda like Mikey Way only black. He had gren eyes like Billie Joe Amstrung and pale whit skin. He wuz wearing a blak ripped up suit wif Vans. It was…………………….Tom Bombodil!1

Now, some of you may be asking who the balls Tom Bombadil is, and that is my point entirely. Deep in the first half of Fellowship of the Ring is god of the forest and walking filler arc Tom Bombadil, whose three-chapter appearance leaves most readers wishing for a violent end to existence for how long it all drags. For the express reason that his appearance is so incredibly pointless, he appears in no major adaptations of the series, which means for Tara to know about him, she’d have to read Fellowship of the Ring, a book that is done no favours by Tolkein’s incredibly dry and long writing style, not to mention an entire chapter chronicling the genealogy of Hobbiton.

To be a teenager at a reading level high enough to tackle Tolkein precludes you from being capable of doing something like My Immortal genuinely. Tara would know how words are spelled and that, hey, stories are considerably better when you give a quarter of a crap about typing them properly. The levels of literacy involved in Tom Bombadil and writing My Immortal are so far removed that these two traits are mutually exclusive, impossible for Tara to possess if she’s genuine. After all,

I dntn red all da boox! dis is frum da movie ok so itz nut my folt if dumbeldor swers!

But wait.

Among the many baffling changes Tara makes to the canon, one of the weirdest and most damning to me is Professor Sinister/Trevolry/Sinatra/Siniater/Relory. This bizarre composite of professors Sinistra and Trelawny is a half-vampire, half-Japanese goff, and the only teacher in the school Ebony likes, because she dresses like her and assigns the preps extra homework, complete with a pun about doing an 'exorcise’ in the book. Her presence is bizarre, for being the only positive authority figure in the story, and for the utter perplexity involved in picking the two professors as a composite goth character at the expense of more conventional fanfic fodder like Snape and Lupin, who are both obviously villainous preps in this story.

Professor Trelawny is a strange choice whose incongruity I feel is another one of those expectation-defying twists meant to seem strange as an indicator to the audience where a more mainstream and believable choice would have been to romanticize Snape as so much of the fandom has, but the real headscratcher is Professor Sinistra. Her presence in the canon is entirely off-screen, mentioned by Hermione as a teacher for a course that Ron and Harry don’t take; she has no lines or purpose anywhere, and even in the movies is only a background character identified by virtue of there being an actress credited as her. Her absolute lack of lines makes her presence here troubling, because if Ebony’s reference base for this is the movies, where this dialogueless character coming from?

Of course, there’s also the aspect of how fluidly she switches between names bastardized off of the two professors which, unlike the matter of Hagrid being Cedric but not really, is so consistent and ever-present that it again seems like a level of sloppiness entirely beyond human capability. Two completely disparate names that are way too far removed to be keyboard fuckery, with bastardizations of both used in each scene she appears as though there is a quota on how many of each get used in a chapter for full effect. Because there absolutely is; here’s the introduction of the professor in chapter 24:

Well we had Deviation next so I got to ask Proffessor Trevolry about the visions.

“Konnichiwa everybody come in.” said Proffesor Sinister in Japanese. She smelled at me with her gothic black lipstick. She’s da coolest fucking teacher ever. She had long dead black hair with blood red tips and red eyes. (hr mom woz a vampire. She’s also haf Japanese so she speaks it and everyfing. she n b’loody mry get along grate) She’s really young for a teacher. 2day she was wearing a black leather top with red lace and a long goffik black ripped dress. We went inside the black classroom with pastors of Emily the Strong. I raced my hand. I was wearing some black naie Polish with red pentagrams on it.

In the tweet-sized morcel from “well” to “Japanese”, Tara has already methodically sank this character’s introduction, making someone paying even the slightest attention to what’s in front of them look back up to that previous line to see if they lost something somewhere. Trevolry is used to refer to her next, and then Sinister again, which are the only four mentions of this character in the chapter. Tara’s handle on the chaos of her own story is perfect, and the entire existence of the professor in this chapter serves as a massive wink to the camera.

Also a strange decision is to note that Professor Sinister and B'loody Mary “get along grate”. They don’t interact, as is expected from a narrative that marginalizes everybody except for Ebony and her love interests, relegating all of the friends to satellite roles where they interact only with her, but it’s perplexing for the way it’s made note of out of nowhere. I feel it goes beyond a strange decision to include more female friendships in the background of her story, and serves as a one-two punch of running afoul of “show, don’t tell” and of the canon itself, as in the original series the teacher that Hermione clashes with the most, to the point of dropping the class altogether, is Professor Trelawny. And yet here they are, besties in gothhood. Another subtle note that indicates how carefully woven this entire mess is.

For someone with the reading comprehension of a microwave-made baked potato though, she has an oddly prescient view on the series endgame in chapter 42’s author’s note.

AN: omg da new book iz kumming out rlly soon I kant wait!!!1111. I fink dat snap will be really the same person as Volximort koz dey are both haff-blood so dat will explain y he kild dumblydore and he hated hairy!!!!!1111 nd den hairy wil have 2 kommit suicide so voldimort will die koz he will rilly be a horcrox!!!!!111

On one hand, the idea that Snap and Volximort are the same person is so unfounded and bizarre that you kind of dismiss what comes next, but despite retaining nothing beyond the most surface-level details about the canon, she somehow managed to make the connection of Harry’s abilities and scar as evidence of him being a horcrux. It’s not a massive leap, and many in the fandom saw it coming, but for someone whose grasp on the canon simply doesn’t exist, it’s suspect.

I’ve unfortunately already blown the “big deal of a revelation that is fairly obvious” joke, so I won’t bother setting it up again, but this revelation is genuinely a noteworthy one. Contained within My Immortal is one reference that is unambiguously and inarguably gothic. Not one of the borderline cases like Marilyn Manson where it depends on who you ask, but a genuine reference to a piece of gothic music. From chapter 28,

We went in2 a blak room. The wallz were blak with portraits of gothic bands lik MCR, GC and Marlin Mason all over them. A big black coffin was in the middle. Red vevlet lined da blak box. There were three chairs made of bones with real skullz in dem. I wuz wearing a blak corset bar wif purple stuff on it, fishnet suckings and a blak leather thong underneath.

It’s so subtle and unexpected a reference that even if you know what it’s from, you may not pick it up. “Red velvet lines the black box” is a lyric from Bauhau’s 1979 song Bela Lugosi’s Dead, which is generally considered to be the very first gothic rock song ever written, thus making it the only genuinely gothic sentence in this entire tale. However, devoid of teenage angst or guyliner, it makes no sense that such a reference would be in the repertoire of somebody who believes that Marilyn Manson was a band from the '80s. In fact, it is impossible to believe that a Tara taken at face value would have ever so much as encountered the song, because the collision of matter and anti-matter annihilates both. However, it would be the fodder of somebody who, baffled at how easily people have accepted their work as a genuine offering, got bored and decided to throw a wink to the camera that couldn’t have possibly slipped under the radar.

Littered among the litany of showy, “look at how goffik” I am references to things, as though My Immortal were a PSA about the goth cred of Tara Gilesbie, are a few rather suspect notes. Tara is somebody who can’t mention certain names without indicating her undying hatred toward them, and yet,

“I love you!” I said and then we started to kiss just like Hilary Duff (i fukin h8 dat bitch) and CMM in a Cinderella Story.

We are apparently to believe that Tara, somebody who is so slavishly devoted to her identity and to a dichotomy that has coloured the entirety of a fictional universe, not only watched A Cinderella Story in spite of her hatred of Hilary Duff, but then drew a comparison to it in how she and Draco kissed? Drawing comparisons to things the author is interested in is a rather frequent amateur move for young fanfic writers who merely draw the blunt comparison to something rather than learning to describe the individual features themselves. Tara is not a good enough writer to describe the facial features of her favorite band leads, so she just mentions that people look like Gerard to indicate that the absolute pinnacle of human attractiveness is this.

The only comparisons she ever draws are to her favorite things, because it’s a way to prove that her life is so goffik that everything around her draws its existence from her interests. And yet she cites a Hilary Duff movie that she quite frankly should not have even seen, if she is so diametrically opposed to being perceived as a prep, which veering so far off of the beaten goff path and into would most certainly indicate. Something doesn’t add up about this.

On what I believe to be the intentional cliffhanger that chapter 42 ends on, we hear another mention of goffik cinema right before the very end of the story.

“Save us Ebony!” Dumbledark cried.

I cried sexily I just wanted 2 go 2 the commen room and slit my wrists with mi friends while we watched Shark Attak 3 and Saw 2 and do it with Draco but I knew I had 2 do somefing more impotent.

“ABRA KEDABRA!!!!!!!!!!!11111” I shooted.

For those not in the know, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon is a phenomenally bad direct-to-video monster movie whose sole claim to fame is in being so laughably bad that it’s found an audience in bad movie circles. And while one could make the fairly weak argument that on the basis of some super edgy “I love watching people dying” attitude, a movie like Shark Attack might appeal to Tara the same way slashers and gorn like Saw and “Hoes of Wax” appeal to her, it’s so bizarre in its sudden presence at the very end that I believe it yet another wink, but this time a more final one. The second-to-last sentence in the story makes mention to a notorious bad movie to draw the connection to the story, a final and overt declaration of a joke that you’re supposed to be in on. The last punchline before the music hits and Porky Pig bursts from out of the big drum to say, “That’s all folks.”

Part 4. What Difference Does it Make? - The Desecration of Canon

Calling out My Immortal for distorting and twisting the Harry Potter universe into something unrecognizable and monstrous is like calling out a bear for shitting in the woods, but it’s impossible to explain how carefully crafted a piece of perfect trollfic it is without examining just how many 'liberties’ Tara took with the canon.

All of the characters that Tara seeks to lionize convert to Slytherin, because apparently people can just do that if they decide they really like black lipstick. But that’s not enough to make them more 'like her’. Backstories are revised to include a quite frankly startling volume of sexual abuse backstories and characters secretly adopted by abusive parents. Vampirism is not a trait anybody received through the narrative, but instead a species inherited by birth that somehow, people don’t know they have, showing no signs or hunger, until they learn about their parentage. Characters all receive new, gothic nicknames like B'loody Mary, Vampire, and Diabolo.

What Tara has done is remove everything about the characters one may think noticeable about them in the slightest. Everyone now resembles Tara’s favorite artists. Harry’s iconic lightning bolt scar, a symbol of the series, has been changed by makeup and magic to instead be a pentagram, because that is a design change of her choice, visually reclaiming the character from Rowling. The only character whose visual traits at all line up with the canon is Voldemort.

Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and no nose and everything started flying towards me on a broomstick! He didn’t have a nose (basically like Voldemort in the movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn’t gothic.

But then it gets stranger. Hagrid becomes a member of Ebony’s band Bloody Gothic Rose 666 and a “little Hogwarts student” (chapter 11). Although she appears to retcon that in chapter 12 with,

AN: stop f,aing ok hargrid is a pedo 2 a lot of ppl in amerikan skoolz r lik dat I wunted 2 adres da ishu! how du u no snap iant kristian plus hargrid isn’t really in luv wif ebony dat was sedric ok!

Although she seems to take a strange “whatever I want” approach to her own retcons like the most hackish of comic book writers, since we get in that very chapter,

Anyway I was in the school nurse’s office now recovering from my slit wrists. Snap and Loopin and HAHRID were there too. They were going to St. Mango’s after they recovered cause they were pedofiles and you can’t have those fucking pervs teaching in a school with lots of hot gurlz. Dumbledore had constipated the cideo camera they took of me naked. I put up my middle finger at them.

Anyway Hargrid came into my hospital bed holding a bouquet of pink roses.

“Enoby I need to tell u somethnig.” he said in a v. serious voice, giving me the roses.

“Fuck off.” I told him. “You know I fucking hate the color pink anyway, and I don’t like fucked up preps like you.” I snapped. Hargrid had been mean to me before for being gottik.

Hagrid is in this canon simultaneously a pedophile and presumably grown-ass adult, but also a Hogwarts student who may or may not be Cedric Diggory, who not only survived the events of Goblet of Fire, but also managed to fail two years at Hogwarts to join Harry as a seventh-year. He is also a poser who is mean to Ebony for being 'gottik’, but is also in her gothic rock band which sounds like “a cross between GC, Slipknot and MCR”, which as we all know would make it the most authentic gothic rock band since Mungo Jerry.

Except in chapter 14 a Death Eater is referred to as “the fat guy who killed Cedric” so maybe HAHrid really is Hagrid after all?

Then there is the odd decision to align Lupin and Snape as pedophilic voyeurs in the service of Voldemort while bizarrely championing Professor Trelawny, in stark contrast to a fandom that especially in the golden days of Harry Potter fandom, where people would dick ride Severus Snape all the way to the moon on the weight of how 'misunderstood’ he was. A pale man who seems conventionally 'dark’ in his interests and mannerisms is the perfect place to begin projecting on when you’re telling a story about how you’re the exact same things, but it seems almost too obvious a decision. Like the rest of Professor Siniater’s composite existence, she’s so odd a choice that it startles you, and I believe within that shock value is the decision to buck expectations.

A trip to the past begins to paint an even more bizarre picture, as apparently the parents of our heroes all went to school in the 1980s, alongside Voldemort and Hedwig. They were also all Slytherin goffs who at some point seem to have just turned into poser preps whose children had to re-convert out of Gryffindor and into gothhood. This timeline yet again causes a great many headscratching tears in the fabric of space and time, but the most vital and important of all is Hedwig.

In the canon, Hedwig is Harry’s owl, female and not much of a doer, speaker, or goth. But in the horrible alternate universe that My Immortal takes place in, Hedwig is a bisexual human male who is very much a goth, the ex-boyfriend of Tom Riddle, whose dumping of the boy starts his descent into becoming Volxemort. It is a change that is so wrong, so removed from not only the canon but from the possibility of anything ever being accurate to the canon, that it can’t be accidental. One cannot fuck up that badly by accident.

Voldemort himself is a great many things. In the past, he is Tom Riddle, gothic musician at Hogwarts and love interest to Ebony, but also Tom Bombadil, the master of wood, water, and hill. But in the present time, he is both the Bark Lord, as one may expect, but also potentially a young, thoroughly goffik employee at a “punkgoff” store in Hogsmeade, Tom Rid. Tom Rid is described as “OMG HOTTER THAN GERARD EXCEPT NOT CAUSE THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE“ and, like every other guy in the story, is “bisezual”. Tom Rid is never the setup for Voldemort’s secret infiltration of the goth subculture, but nonetheless seems to be a template earlier in the story for the later time travel storyline and Tom Riddle as a love interest. It’s another nonsensical “mistake” thatjust doesn’t mesh with any fathomable stupidity. It would be like introducing a character called Harry Pot and having him be completely disconnected from Harry Potter in any way.

Littered with iPods and anachronistic pop culture that manages to miss its mark in two different time periods, the only reason we know that this is the same world and not just one with suspiciously similar names is the fact that it’s fanfiction. Not a deep AU that interestingly adapts elements into a different world to see how they work out, or which shows characters and how they might develop under different circumstances. This is a mangled mess where muggle bands play concerts in Hogsmeade, seemingly well aware of wizards’ existence. There must be panic on the streets of London.

The big question is “why”. Why would somebody do this bad a number of canon, accidental or not? And the reason is simple.

Part 5. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want – Wish Fulfillment

By changing the context of everything except for the most basic connections of who the characters are 'supposed’ to be, they cease to be J.K. Rowling’s. They instead become Tara’s playthings. The canon is so distorted that it may as well not be fanfiction for how few things that remain intact, and yet it is vital that the world be the world of Harry Potter, at least nominally. Tara needs to turn a world that she loves, as off the mark as she may be, into a wonderland in which to self-insert, to mold into a countercultural paradise that centers completely around her.

We can’t speculate on the life of Tara – who this entire paper of course serves as a document meant to disprove the very existence of – but we can very clearly see the desires of this alleged person. Ebony is the single most important person in My Immortal, supplanting Harry as the only one who can kill Voldemort, whom every attractive character and even many unattractive ones profess their love to and fight for without provocation. Her interests are catered to on an unrealistic level and divine karmic justice makes those who sit culturally opposed to her suffer undeserved retribution solely for existing.

Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way is, even by those who see her as an entirely genuine creation, often held up as the ultimate self-insert. On top of very clearly existing as an author avatar who holds the exact same interests as her creator, her very presence distorts and twists the canon around her like an eldritch abomination tearing the very fabric of the reality she occupies. One of the more criticized elements of self-inserts in fanfiction is of course the ease with which a narrative becomes wish fulfillment for the author, and My Immortal has this in droves. Ebony is the most important character in the world not because she’s the protagonist or the narrator, but because she has supplanted Harry as the only person who can stop Voldemort, and whom everybody’s 'motivations’ center around.

Ebony is loud, angry, and has access to a time machine. When Ebony isn’t on-screen, all of the other characters ask, “Where’s Ebony?”

The love triangle between Ebony, Draco, and Vampire begins with Vampire solely wanting to reconnect with his ex-boyfriend Draco, but as the story goes on that element is lost and replaced with him instead lusting after Ebony, as evidenced by the time they had sex right in the middle of Hair of Magical Creatures. One of the only connections that two different characters had with each other is slowly replaced with an attraction to Ebony that they fight over, because everyone in My Immortal is defined by how Ebony perceives them. Their own attractions to one another take a backseat to their lust for Ebony, save for occasions where she permits them to have sex for her enjoyment, at which point it is presented as titillation for her.

Also among the characters with stated romantic interest in Ebony are Tom Rid, Hairgird, Snope, Lumpin, Tom Riddle, and Snaketail.

Everybody who has things in common with Ebony is Ebony, essentially. Every character is so interchangeable due to the pre-packaged identity she assumes is the only authentic way to be gothic that nobody feels like an actual character. Willow and B'loody Mary both occupy the role of female best friend for Ebony, save for a brief period where Willow is killed and Lupin has sex with her corpse before her resurrection one chapter later. In fact, the only time a character Ebony isn’t sexually attracted to is complimented is when she tries to lay on really thick her attempt to suck up to Raven in the hopes she’ll return to editing. The only difference between Vampire and Draco is how many times Ebony has sex with them, and that’s not getting into the masses of other goff guys who may as well be nameless, such as Diabolo (Ron), “Crab”, Goyle, and “Dracola” (Navel). In the past, Tom “Satan” Riddle proves to be just as generic a love interest as the other two, and then more faceless characters in Hades (“Serious Blak”), Lucian Malfoy, James “Samoro” Potter, and Hedwig.

Nobody has any character, save for Ebony, because they’re not meant to be characters, they’re meant to be imaginary friends for Ebony to play with, to fawn over her and have everything in common with her. If we buy into the belief that Tara is a rather lonely teenage girl who has apparently pushed away her only friend over a My Chemical Romance poster, then her decision to basically strip away everything that makes the Harry Potter world what it is so that she could rebuild it from the ground up into her gothic paradise makes a lot of sense.

Of course, she isn’t that at all, but first we need to look at all the other things that Tara is and isn’t.

Part 6. Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before – Raven

Fifteen-year-old Eternity Demen'tia Johnson warily took a seat on the Hogwarts Express. As she did so, she heard many giggles in the air. Ugh. Stupid preps. Eternity had hoped she wouldn’t see any when she came to Hogwarts. They had made her life in Los Angeles High School miserable. Now she was supposed to put up with them here? She sighed sadly, and stared out of the window. In her mistery, she took her iPod out of her Emily the Strange bag and blared on some My Chemical Romance (A/N: Don’t they rock?). Oh great. Now even more preps were giving her dirty looks. Eternity tried her best to ignore them. It wasn’t because Eternity was dirty or deformed or anything. Maybe it was something to do with her black leather corset, or her ripped black miniskirt or her black combat boots or the metal music she was listening to. Eternity hated how people judged her like that just because she was a goth.

The above is a snippet from I’m Not Okay, written by Tara’s friend Raven. And in it, you can see a lot of the same themes present in My Immortal. Anachronistic technology, a misunderstanding of what the goth subculture is, preps hating her on mere principle, authors notes spliced in mid-sentence to herald the glory of her taste, and more description offered up for her clothes than for anything else. Throughout I’m Not Okay, we see Draco Malfoy as the gothic love interest, comparisons of characters to members of bands the author likes, and canon Harry Potter characters becoming gothic and taking on nicknames like Dracula, Sea, and Darren.

Good sense and suburban decency run screaming at the sight of a dark name like “Darren”.

Rather than shit all over preps of her own design, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger, two characters so far removed from the stereotype of an American high school “popular kid” that it’s almost infuriating, are turned into the superpreps to be hated. Slytherin is still so gothic a house that their common room password is “bleeding kisses” and the portrait is a woman described as the “splitting image” of the lead singer of Sisters of Mercy, an actual goth band whose frontman Andrew Eldritch is most certainly not a woman and not even particularly androgynous.

The same out-of-place theme of sexually abusive adopted parents that plagues My Immortal’s side characters returns in Eternity’s backstory. She sticks her middle finger up at preps unprovoked and veers off course to call out the shittiness of preps. Really, Eternity is in every imaginable way just Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way with a marginally better writer, as is to be expected from the editor of Tara’s disasterpiece.

The authenticity of Raven’s works isn’t in doubt, in my mind. It predates the memetic nature of My Immortal by a great deal, they co-wrote a story entitled Ghost of You that, again, features the exact same terrible tropes and bad ideas, albeit this time with Hermione Granger as the parentally abused goth hated by preps and now in love with Draco Malfoy, And, the fifth and final chapter of I’m Not Okay has,

a/n: TARA IS DA BIGGEST FUCKING BITCH EVERY AND BY THE WAY I’M A BIGGER MCR FAN AND GERARD IS MINE 4EVA SO FUCK U

Eternity was so happy. She went to class with the other fifth-years, Sea, Draco, Shadow, Darren, and Satan. That fucking retard Elvira (whose real name was Lindsay like that fucking ho Lindsay Loan) had gone all the way back to first-year and they put her in Gryffindor where all the retarde4d preps were because she couldn’t even write properly and she had to get her friends 2 do it for her.

Hot damn. That’s a far more scorching burn than being the offscreen victim of Lumpkin the necphilak.

Raven’s stories being the template for My Immortal is no coincidence. Tara aped everything she saw with gusto, imitating her friend who, while not a very good writer, could write sentences properly and gave description to things. Hell, as far as fifteen-year-old fanfic writers go, Raven is actually pretty decent, just entrenched in some terrible themes–again, pretty typical for teenagers–and does things like describe Eternity 'sadly putting her hair up’. On some level, Tara is trying to be as good a writer as Raven is. She looks up to her and, immediately after in a fit of anger killing off the character meant to be Raven, brings her back and guiltily sucks up to her with as many compliments as she can give.

Whether she is the same person as 'Tara’ or a friend in on the joke, I believe that Raven exists as sort of a proto-Tara, a precursor to the real juicy fun. Her story isn’t very good and she writes the exact same things Tara does with marginally more writing ability. They’re identical in every possible way, with the same interests, attitudes, and bizarre writing sensibilities. Almost no differences in the presented persona emerge, but as much as their obsessions with clothing and iconography bordering on disingenuous poserliness would imply that the pre-packaged nature of their identities is to blame, I believe it was all meant to deepen the character, provide a more grounded contrast to her and help make her seem more real.

Rather than existing as a nebulous beta reader who also has no prior internet history, existing solely through the character of Willow and authors notes that let their ongoing drama spill through into the story for us to see in what I feel is a brilliant piece of meta performance art, she has her own stories that make her very much a real presence in the extended saga of My Immortal. I believe that in the long term, she was meant to continue onward as a developing foil for Tara, someone whose existence helped back up her own. But, as evidenced by the way I’m Not Okay stops at chapter 5, which on the timeline of My Immortal would place it somewhere around chapter 16, this didn’t go as planned.

If “Raven” were a co-conspirator to “Tara”, it’s possible they got bored, didn’t have the insane devotion to a multi-layered and quite frankly absurdly deep prank. If Raven and Tara are one and the same, then perhaps the pressure of developing two 'different’ personas proved too much work, and decided to focus on the big one. After all, Raven’s stories are only notable through her association to Tara, the Art Garfunkel to Tara’s Paul Simon. Mediocre but ultimately harmless stories that by and large flew under the radar and aren’t even well known by people who know My Immortal. I’m Not Okay was never going to draw the same level of interest or vitriol that My Immortal did, thus making it a joke with far less payoff, even if by virtue of not being as poorly written, it was likely easier to write. This is helped by the immense disparity in productivity between the two; whether the primary actor or personality, Tara is more prolific, something that ties directly into the return on investment when it comes to how people reacted to either story.

And as it turned out, she wasn’t needed. The My Immortal Extended Universe has long since been forgotten, and yet people fell for the joke without it. People bought very easily into My Immortal as a genuine piece of work, or at least were so willing to enjoy it as a mockable distraction that nobody ever really asked. Raven became a redundant cog in the machine, and removing her freed up the effort to focus full time on making My Immortal something even more incredible than it began as.

More evidence of this lies in the fact that even once Raven allegedly returns to her role as editor, the spelling only gets increasingly worse; she’s credited as helping in many chapters, but her former sensibilities are gone, and no edits are ever made, as illustrated in the snippets detailing the degeneration in part one. It’s possible that this was meant to convey that Raven wasn’t actually helping; that she quit writing fanfic due to her fallout with Tara, and Tara merely went on pretending she still had a friend in Raven as she sank deeper and deeper into her wish fulfillment paradise. Raven never managed to gain the established foothold that Tara did, so nobody ever questioned it, and everyone was too busy having a good time to wonder how the chapters ever qualified as being 'edited’.

Curious is the fact that even though they made up, Raven never came back. She didn’t continue writing her own stories, the drama between them never resurged, and aside from her supposed beta services to Tara, is absent from the bulk of the saga in its entirety. This is in spite of the fact that in all apparent ways, Raven is not only the more skilled writer, but the one with a clearer passion for it. Her prose may be nothing special, but the bar should not be set too high for what is allegedly a teenage girl writing Harry Potter fanfic. She falls into a lot of the common holes, but her style is that of someone who loves stories and wants to write their own, and for her to so quickly vanish and never return is, to me, evidence that she was always a character too, and that her place in the 'real life’ layer of My Immortal was simply deemed irrelevant.

Part 7. Girlfriend in a Coma – That Time Tara Got Hacked

In chapter 38, a time-displaced Tara opens for Marilyn Manson in Hogsment, which is what Hogsmeade was called before they changed it in 2000. In Hogsmint, a store called Hot Ishoo will change its name to Hot Topic in the year 1998. Tom Riddle possesses future knowledge of both of these events, as well as the certainty that because amnesia potions haven’t been invented yet, he will not be affected by the one being used on his cigar branded with a movie that hasn’t come out yet, which is a shame because he wanted to use the potion on Ebony so that the time-traveling girl he loves will forget about her old life and her romantic entanglements in her own timeline with the sons of two of his bandmates sothat only her love for him will remain. His prescient, almost accepting knowledge of seemingly everything about his future up until his fall is almost tragic; he must know that Ebony’s involvement in his life is going to ruin it

On top of being the Dark Lord and Tom Bombadil, Tom Riddle may also be Doctor Manhattan. But that’s not the point of this part.

After xBlakXTearX performs its first big gig, the band immediately falls apart as, due to Lucian Malfoy playing the wrong song by mistake, Samaro Potter decides to shoot his arm off with a knife. Those of you attempting to follow the bizarre, Ebony-centric take on the universe may be surprised to learn that she is not the Yoko Ono of the band in what may be the only important conflict in the story that isn’t about her. However, since everything has to be about our goffik darling, Ebony jumps in front of the bullet–that, again, has been shot from a knife, like this is the second-worst Final Fantasy game ever made–and enters a coma.

Bear in mind, she does this knowing that Lucian survives this attack, going on to find love, have Draco, and despite two stints as a wizard nazi manages to avoid jail time and lead a life of incredible luxury and comfort. This also requires her to ignore her very important mission to prevent Tom from ever becoming Voldemort and the insane repercussions of dying in a timeline that isn’t her own, leaving behind all of her possessions that are even more anachronistic in the 80s, including a time machine that anyone could suddenly begin misusing.

All in all, an incredibly stupid decision with no purpose other than to insert Ebony and her useless ass selfless heart into conflicts that she has nothing to do with, because she’s the 'hero’ of our story.

Before we could see the resolution of that nail-biting cliffhanger, Tara’s account was allegedly hacked by a 'guest writer’, who claimed to have been able to crack her password with incredible ease. While there, the password cracker gives her own take on My Immortal, involving the death of Ebony, which undoes all of Tara’s damage upon the universe and returns everybody to their proper states, while sentencing Ebony to a terrifying ironic hell where she is doomed to an eternity of wearing infinite layers of preppy clothing brands.

While there, the hacker also shares with us the real chapter 39 as an act of kindness to those of us who were clinging onto the saga for dear life and wanted to know how Ebony was going to survive jumping in front of the knife-propelled bullet. Allegedly, this chapter was already written and waiting to be posted in the document area. It ends up being such a bizarre element of time travel that even the Terminator franchise never went there.

“What the fuk happened?” I asked dem. “Oh my satan!11 Am I lik dead now?” I gosped.

“Enoby u were almost shot!11” said Serious. “But da ballet could not kill u since u were form anodder time.”

“But fangz anyway!1” said Lucian holding oot his arm. I gasped. He had two arms!

Which opens up a lot of questions, then shoves them aside so I could wonder for a second if Lucius Malfoy was missing an arm in the canon. He wasn’t, making this another perplexing note of Tara’s that rewards a familiarity with the source material by highlighting all the ways in which it’s wrong. But then, after being told that Snap was Death Dealer, despite being the classmate of a Tom Riddle who hadn’t yet gone dark, Ebony comes across Snape raping Draco, and is so distraught by her boyfriend’s betrayal in this act that she runs to her room, takes out a steak, and uses it to slit her wrists.

Neither steaks nor stakes work like that.

The next chapter begins with her “back in Tim” due to her suicide, but the endgame plot batshit of My Immortal isn’t something we can even tackle in full yet.

There is a lot about the hacker that’s peculiar, and that’s because I believe that the hacker is Tara herself. A lot of minor elements of the breach of her account actually betray this secret, and it’s one of the few things in My Immortal I’m unsure about in regards to its intent.

The way that fanfiction.net handles posting a story involves uploading the story file to a document area, and then from the story menu selecting the relevant document. I always found it kind of clumsy personally, but what stands out about it is the fact that the chapter was allegedly written and left online for an indeterminate amount of time. There aren’t many reasons to upload a completed chapter to the website and then not post it. For someone like Tara, who does no editing and is clearly no longer sending the story off to Raven to be edited, there seems to be absolutely no reason for the story to be sitting idly in the documents area. I imagine Tara finished each chapter and immediately shoved it online in a frantic hurry to get it out there, as opposed to leaving it online to age like a fine vintage of toilet moonshine.

The original posting of the chapter was actually from the original document being copy/pasted into the one that contained the fake chapter nine. However, chapter 40 is then posted some time later as, “Chapter 40. LOL! Someone has taken my account over” by what seems to be the hacker. Which is odd, since they already pasted it into chapter 39, and posting it again from the document area seems rather pointless. It even includes an addition of, “THE IDIOT’S NOTE: Well… this was in the doc area… might as well let the whole world see what the real Tara wanted to show us… Have a nice day!” that the chapter 39 version lacks, meaning this hacker allegedly went into the doc, copy/pasted it into a new file with her chapter and Tara’s, but then edited the original document and posted it too. It’s an odd thing to do, like someone went in with very little idea of what the plan actually was and stumbled redundantly over ideas as they went.

But particularly odd about this whole thing is that Tara does nothing about it. She doesn’t delete the insulting notes or remove the fake chapter, she leaves them both there even though the author’s note of chapter 41 makes it clear that she’s very aware of her account being compromised, not only letting the mockery of herself remain, but even letting it effect the numbering of subsequent chapters. Which may seem like just Tara not caring enough and going with the chapter numbers listed by fanfiction.net, until you look back at chapter 10.

Chapter 10 was posted twice, and Tara never removed the second, identical version of it. It remained on the site up until the day the story was purged by site moderators. And yet, Tara always remained consistent in her renumbering of the chapters, always subtracting one from the chapter count when she posted it; what the site claimed was chapter 12 was really chapter 11. For a story with only the barest minimum of shits given, to properly compensate for this numbering accident for almost thirty chapters is a surprising amount of misplaced effort, but it establishes that she does care about the chapter numbers, and makes the sudden slip a lot more suspect. Why only go halfway in on her effort by continuing to count her double-posted chapter, but not this fake one that she’s allowed to remain as a part of the saga?

Part 8. That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore – Bringing it all together

I’ve prattled on for well over ten thousand words now about a myriad of My Immortal’s issues, but you could look at each individual flaw of the story and say that on their own, they hardly form evidence of trollery afoot, even if some of the more glaring issues are harder to explain away. But surely I’m going to show how they connected to form the cohesive peak of my argument, right? “How soon are you going to get to that?” you shout into your screen, not knowing how computers work.

Well how soon is now?

Tara Gilesbie wrote a story that set her up as the ultimate caricature of a teenaged fanfic writer who is just the worst in all of the best ways. All of the elements of bad writing on every level came into a perfect storm that only grew more powerful over time as it sank further and further into its own madness until it didn’t even resemble what it had started out as. From the self-inserted wish fulfillment to a startlingly creative use of the English language, it hits every hallmark of a bad fanfic one would think to roll up into one neat and tidy little ball, save for perhaps a massive panfandom crossover of everything the author has ever liked.

There is a clear story arc in My Immortal, but it isn’t Ebony’s tale of romance and destiny, it’s Tara’s slow descent into gibbering madness, like the story she had created was an eldritch being that she was unable to comprehend the sight of. As I went over in part one, the writing style breaks down steadily over time, becoming more typo-ridden, filled with more and more casual abbreviations and chatspeak until it’s become apparent that she simply doesn’t care, and while the decline in writing 'quality’ certainly begins with Raven’s absence, it is a steady drop for many chapters afterward. Tara’s character is not one that seems like she has a grasp on subtlety or moving slowly, but that’s the pace with which the boundaries are pushed.

Let’s look at the plot in a rather brief rundown. The story starts out fairly simply, with Ebony and Draco falling in love and having poorly written sex in the forest. Vampire comes in to complicate things in a love triangle that is surprising for leading to attraction angst in all possible directions. Voldemort’s introduction adds to the melodrama of the story, and it weaves in and out of slice of life romance angst and the Voldemort subplot rather strangely. Then, in chapter 17, my favorite part of the story occurs, and it signifies the moment where My Immortal jumps the shark in a way nobody would have ever dreamt of.

Gerard was da sexiest guy eva! He locked even sexier den he did in pix. He had long raven blak hair n piercing blue eyes. He wuz really skinny and he had n amazing ethnic voice. We moshed 2 Helena and sum odder songz. Sudenly Gerard polled of his mask. So did the other membez. I gasped. It wasn’t Gerard at all! It was an ugly preppy man wif no nose and red eyes… Every1 ran away but me and Draco. Draco and I came. It was…….Vlodemort and da Death Deelers!

“U moronic idiots!” he shooted angstily. “Enoby, I told u to kill Vampire. Thou have failed. And now……….I shall kill thou and Draco!”

“No no please!” We begged sadly but he took out his knife.

Sudenly a gothic old man flu in on his broomstick. He had lung black hair and a looong black bread. He wus werring a blak robe dat sed ‘avril lavigne’ on da back. He shotted a spel and Vlodemort ran away. It was…………………………………DUMBLYDORE

It’s important here to note that this is very soon after Raven left the story. and remember that this is around when the story began to stop caring about spelling and typing. After this point, everything in the plot goes off the rails. The melodrama ramps up, Ebony is revealed as the only one who can stop Voldemort, time travel is introduced, despite supplanting Harry as the chosen one who can defeat the Dark Lord she instead tries to seduce a teenaged Tom Riddle… Everything goes completely off the rails.

And that’s the plan all along. The angle of Raven and Tara’s feud never went anywhere, probably because nobody really cared much about two teenagers yelling at each other on the internet. At least, not until 2015 when some asshole would examine the shit out of it for very little discernable reason or gain. I believe that when it was scrapped, the brain trust behind My Immortal decided to go in a different direction. Readers may not have took the bait of their public dispute, but they were buying the troll hook, line, and sinker. People genuinely believe, or at least want to believe, that the story was written in earnest. Even a lot of the people who have doubts about it have them on the grounds that they don’t want to accept that someone could write a story so terrible. The unexpected appeal of the trainwreck that was My Immortal itself, rather than the meta saga of Tara Gilesbie, terrible writer and object of mockery, drove the project into a different direction.

The story and spelling both degrade at the same time, steadily creeping further and further into the most ludicrous things the author thinks they can get away with. As the readers continue to accept what they see as genuine, the author pushes further, which is why we see new elements constantly introduced into the story where they make no sense. It’s not Tara throwing the kitchen sink into her story in a misguided belief that a lot of everything will make her story good, it’s Tara setting the narrative on a trajectory of the most ludicrous thing she can think of, and watching as people believe it. Because they do, completely.

Sex is introduced into the story, because of course it is, through the most unappealing of ways possible. Genitalia are referred to by 'thingy’ as though using the word penis is too embarrassing for her to handle, even though later she refers to Snap’s 'clook’ without issue. To further the wish fulfillment, she must be having sex with her love interests, and it must be terrible.

We went on the bed and started making out naked and then he put his boy’s thingy in mine and we HAD SEX. (c is dat stupid?)

I believe they call that docking.

I’ve already explained how I believe Tara Gilesbie to be just as much a fictional character as Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and what I feel that character is meant to be is the most mockable and stereotypical fanfic writer one could ever dream of. A teenage emo girl delusionally believing she’s a goth, who’s into boys kissing but has no problem throwing homophobic slurs around, who violates the Harry Potter canon in every way possible for the sake of creating her world of wish fulfillment where everything centers around her. Every bad writing trope wrapped up into sensibilities that set themselves up for mockery. Throw on a tragic lack of self-awareness that opens her up to be laughed at as she smugly highlights her mistakes, and all the pieces fall into place.

Tara Gislebie is a parody of fanfic writers.

Before My Immortal hit the scene, bad fanfiction was not as popular a fandom passtime as it is now, owing largely to new forms of media allowing us to better share the stories and our mockery of them than we had access to in mid-2006, but also because it was always rather contained within fandoms or specific LJ groups meant to deride them. But My Immortal crossed boundaries and spread far outside the reaches of the Harry Potter fandom, to become more than just a story. It was a sensation, a fic so notorious that even people who weren’t around back then have still at least heard of it, even if they haven’t gone out looking for it. While bad writers are nothing new to fandom, My Immortal set off a slew of imitators and tributes, fake sequels, adaptations using its basic setups in different fandoms to produce interesting results, and with more attention suddenly on badfic with the intent to mock it, troll writers came out in droves to try and reproduce the magic.

Some succeeded. Many failed, and I believe one of the main reasons is that people continue to take My Immortal at its word. They just whip some typo-heavy dreck up in their word processor, and ignore all of the subtler elements of My Immortal. It gets so much wrong from the very beginning, but it had to slowly stew in its own crazy long enough to become the poorly written train wreck we’ve come to love. For a story so over the top, that combines all of the elements of a bad story into one perfect package, it does it cleverly enough that it continues to fool people almost ten years later.

You may believe that this is all way too much work for anyone to put into a stupid fanfic. That if it’s meant to be a joke, that it’s a long way to go. Developping characters, faked account compromises, and an active effort put into writing as terribly as possible. And it is a lot of effort, which is meant to throw you off, because it’s the greatest trick the devil ever pulled.

Haha. Wondering why this post isn’t where it’s normally found?

Well, my friends, ask no more!

On a dark lonely evening, sweat drips through your hair

Warm smell of your butthurt, rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, see the laptop’s blue light

Your head grows heavy and your sight grows dim

Gotta stop for the night

There my posts on the display

Rang the warning bell

And you were thinking to your self

Give it a week and I’d surely quell

Then I flamed all the posters and I showed you her name

There were voices ringing in your head

Swear you’d heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Tarafornia

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a normal place

Plenty of room at the Hotel Tarafornia

Any time of year (Any of time of year)

I can smell your fear

Her mind is Tumblr-addicted

She got them means behind ends

She got a lotta commie, commie kids

That she calls friends

How they dance in the Discord

Sweet doxxing rush

Some post to remember

Some troll to forget

So I called up the admin

“Please bring my ban”

And he said

We haven’t had that spirit here since GC toured Japan

And still those voices are ringing from far away

But still those posts are comin’ from far away

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear me say

Welcome to the Hotel Tarafornia

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a horrid face

Living it up in the Hotel Tarafornia

What an awful lie (What an awful lie)

What an alibi

Mirrors behind mirrors

Men behind the man

And she said: “We are all just copycats here

Of a copy of a fake

Among the moderators

They gathered for a feast

They stab it with their steely knives

But they just can’t kill the beast

Last thing you remember, you were

Grasping for your mouse

You had to find the permaban

To restore what was before

“Relax”, said your bete-noire

“I am

Programmed to deceive

You can ban me any time you like,

But I will never leave!”

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dast218 · 4 years

Text

Days that turned into months and eventually years - Pt 4

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

** I see Damian as cold, at times irrational and a type that won’t think straight after years of being essentially lied to. (He definitely possess hidden love and kindness as well)

I was debating on whether or not to post this but here goes nothing - DLDR

------

Marinette felt numb. Thoughts were uncontrollably rushing through her mind without any direct path. It had to be a dream, it just had too. Right? Her mind is playing tricks with her. No way is that actually Damian. No way would her lover be standing at arms reach. If she dared to stretch out would his form evaporate into thin air? She wanted to test out her theory but at the same time was too afraid to let go of the possibility of him being here, even if it was just a fluke.

Memories were rapidly flashing, hitting her senses hard. Moments of happy times spent together, days of cuddling in bed, late night adventures, playful bantering with the Waynes, family pranks and their last fight. A feeling of failure suddenly hit her like a train wreck. The dark-haired women couldn’t move, as in the background she saw the faces of those who she cherished judging her for not fighting harder, mocking her weak attempts of escaping and laughing at her current predicament. What kind of hero does it make Ladybug if she can’t even protect herself? Marinette felt herself shrinking.

On the other side of the door Damian wasn’t doing any better. He just stared at the doorway, without exhibiting any clear emotion. His face was pale. Was Marinette’s ghost hunting him? But why does it feel so real? Is it really her? He wasn’t able to catch a single clear thought as the reality was crashing into him. What was he supposed to do when someone who he accepted as dead was standing in real flesh and soul right across from him? His body and mind felt hopeless as no answer arose.

Both of the adults were desperately stuck in their minds until a small and gentle voice interrupted. As Damian looked down he saw a girl slightly younger than Thomas tugging Marinette’s long sleeves. The resemblance between the two was disturbingly transparent. The young child’s long dark hair was tied into a high ponytail, her blue eyes were glistening with concern as her darker skin complexion was elicited by the setting sun.

“Mom you ok? Father asked me to come check”

Marinette visibility paled but kept her composure with a soft “I am fine go back inside”

That short exchange stopped Damian dead in his steps once again. Did he just hear mom and dad come out of the mouth of the girl who looks almost exactly like Marinette? FATHER?! Before his mind was able to spiral down into the deep hole of misery and confusion a new figure stepped into the frame.

A well dressed, dark haired man with a seemingly gentle smile walked up to the entrance. At his arrival he wrapped his arms around Marinette and kissed her on the cheeks without receiving any response. Marinette stood there lost in thought. Holding up his free hand he announced his presence.

“Good evening Mr. Wayne its a pleasure meeting my new business partner. I am Andrew Dobronski and this is my wife Mrs. Dobronski.”

Mr. Dobronski pointing and calling Marinette his wife was the last straw. Damian saw red. He lived through all these years of grieving, all these years of trying to think positively, all these years of telling Thomas that his mother loves him and is watching from heaven just to witness her finding someone else. What kind of stupid game is the universe playing? His wife, his goddamn wife is standing with some stranger wrapped around her ALIVE! Could he still call her his wife, after all it looks like she married again to some richass billionaire. Was the kidnapping just for show? Couldn’t she just tell him off like a normal human being? Damian couldn’t. His emotions were running wild, screaming to escape. Built up rage and the remains of the Lazarus Pit magic were arguing with his soul to be let out. Inside he was fighting to remain in control.

Damian might have won the battle, walked back peacefully and took his time to rethink his feelings like he had learned to do over the past years if it hadn’t been for the slick comment of the billionaire. In the near future he would regret his words.

“Mr. Wayne is everything alright? I hope that my wife hasn’t offended you while I was busy inside.”

Something in Damian snapped and everything exploded. Looking directly at Marinette his inner thoughts released in a high range fury.

Marinette felt the urge to fight back but as she opened her mouth the hands around her tightened. The billionaire's nails dug into her skin as she fought the impulse to grin in pain. There was a clear and silent message: Don’t you dare say anything if you know what's better for you. In return Marinette stared at the rose bush outside, trying and failing to cancel out Damian’s voice. Her inter thoughts kept reminding her that she deserved his wrath after abandoning their son at the mere age of one.

If Damian was more observant and in full control of his emotions, he might have noticed their interaction and figured out what was happening much earlier.

They stood there one screaming, one looking away and the other slightly smirking for what felt like hours.

---------

In a venom filled voice Damian stated, “I am done here. Good night.”

As Damian was walking away, he came to an abrupt stop when Mr. Dobronski called out. Looking back he saw the billionaire approaching him leaving behind a stunned Marinette.

“Now that you have taken care of your personal business can we discuss the business accept of your trip. This partnership is especially important for the International Wayne Industry.”

Damian stared dumbfounded. This guy really thinks that I care right now. I want to get out of here.

“I have some errands to run… You can contact one of my brothers to fill in my spot.”

“Very well.”

---------

Leaning back on the door, Marinette closed her eyes and shrugged into herself as she was trying to hold back the tears that were about to spill. ‘Hold it in, you already did it so many times. Keep it up. Don’t show a sign of weakness, don’t allow him to win.’ She kept repeating the rehearsed speech to herself while trying to calm down.

Pushing all her emotions aside she reluctantly looked up just to be directly facing a smirking billionaire.

“You invited him on purpose”

“So I see you liked my surprise. How it is like losing the last person you cared about, someone who was supposed to love you till the end.”

Marinette deflated with that punch to her heart but picked herself up quickly. Stepping aside she started moving away from the older man and suddenly felt a strong force pushing her back. He grabbed her hands, slammed her body on the rigid wall and held her hands above her head.

“Now listen to me little lady. Under my roof you are going to look at me when I speak and wait until I give you permission to walk away. Do I make myself clear” Receiving a small node he continued, “I hope that after Mr. Wayne’s lovely speech which might I add had gone a hundred times better than expected, you will get your head out of the gutter. Now I thought you had plans for later tonight, better start getting everything ready.”

Rubbing her left wrist Marinette followed him deeper into the mansion.

Its better not to get Damian or his family involved in this. Just let it go Marinette, its for the best. There's no say what Andrew and the rest would do to them.

---------

Sorry not sorry. In the plot’s defense, Damian had a lot of built up emotions and was in big shock. The kiss and word wife triggered it all to explode. And Marinette isn’t in the best headspace right now.

Damian had a chance to split his heart out, so now it's only fair that Marinette has the same. It's been awhile since she was able to yell at someone. (Possible next chapter spoiler).

Tag List:

@urbanpineapplefarmer @18-fandoms-unite-08 @clumsy-owl-4178 @rebecarojas07 @jardimazul @noirdots @corabeth11 @dragonflyswing @mooshoon @slytherin-batbitch @sturchling @nataladriana9 @queenmj10

#finals been tough #i just made myself sad #maribat #daminette #marinette x damian

122 notes · View notes

enccrypted · 4 years

Text

Can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen!

1. FIRST NAME: my name is something else, but I actually do more commonly go by jun nowadays in my day-to-day life!

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: as a child i rode a bicycle into my aunt’s pool because I have no sense of foresight even though avoiding diving into the pool was the EASIEST thing to figure out in that moment. And riding a bike in a pool is illegal in California, so :( Please don’t call the cops on me

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON: A lot of my partners I’ve dated on sheer basis of their personality, but... lean? not necessarily super slender but I personally tend towards slimmer builds, I think? And I also really like nice eyes and hands... and I love voices I find soothing and nice to listen to!! Sound is a hate or love thing for me, so if I hear a certain sound or string of sounds I like, I can get stuck on it. And likewise if a sound is just unbearable to me, it sends my brain into fucky spirals. So that’s why I have certain songs on loop for weeks on end, because when I like a certain type of sound, I want it in my ears constantly.

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: these spicy noodles 🍜 they’re called buldak bokkeum myeon, hot chicken ramyeon 😋

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: I’m actually five years old, so vegetables can get the fuck off my plate. Most of the time they just have some weird textures that I cannot handle in my mouth. I feel like it’d be better if I owned a blender and could make smoothies out of some of them, but that’s a plan for the future when I can actually have full control over my own diet

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: I love... to eat out... and to eat in general, but it’s hard to eat out a lot because it’s very expensive :( but then my opposite guilty pleasure is packaged ramen that’s cheap as shit... I’m a very inconsistent personality lmao

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: my pants and nothing else

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: only serious relationships!! I mentally cannot make myself date a person if I haven’t been friends with them for at least a few months, optimally one or two years. I like to know the people I end up dating and feel comfortable around them, really know them before I even think about taking it a step further. Being good friends with a person, talking a lot with them, and feeling that I can speak to them as a partner AND a friend with whom I would trust my secrets (and therefore be honest with them about anything!) is so wildly important to me. And also I just don’t trust like that.

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: so many things. I think about it constantly. My most common daydreams and things I imagine as I lie in bed at night is somehow waking up with my current day mind in the body of my younger self and just living life differently. But I’m sure a lot of us would tweak a thing or two, regardless of whether they’re subtle or hugely impacting, and in reality it’s just not going to happen. So while I’m not “happy” with where I am, I’m at least happy with my efforts and where I’m trying to go from here on out!

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: It’s tough to get me to that point, as in I’m really picky with whom I choose to get closer to just based on compatibility, how much I initially feel I’ll be comfortable around a certain person, etc. But once I get to a status of friendship, I’m very free with affection :’) maybe too much? I drop a lot of “I love you”s and I occasionally make a fuss over the people I care about, but only to make sure they’re okay or something. Not overbearing!! I think... sometimes i accidentally say “babe/baby” to my friends and I realise two seconds later that it’s fucking weird but . can’t cry over spilt milk lmao

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: I’m not a “watch a movie again” type of person because it takes me actually wanting to watch a movie, then making the conscious decision to invest the time in sitting down and watching it... so a song I like! because I can multitask while listening to music and it doesn’t take any huge commitment for 2-7 minute songs: Scenes from an Italian Restaurant. I could listen to most of Billy Joel’s songs on repeat for days, though.

12. FAVORITE BOOK: My favourite books switch around because I always discover something new, then turn around and go straight back to an old book I used to love after rereading it... over the years I most strongly remember loving: Crime and Punishment, The Great Gatsby, and Howl’s Moving Castle!

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: I want a cat really badly! I do have a stray cat that I hang out with at my school, but that just isn’t the same as having one of my own! And I’ve always wanted a snake since I was a wee bab so, someday, when I’m moved out and financially stable 🐍

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]: TWO OF MY FAVOURITES ARE WITH JAY: his higgs (death stranding, goldenmasked) and his revenant (iidolum)... I didn’t start off writing with either of them with huge shipping intentions in mind, but I’ve got some plots with him that are my favourite... 😭😭 other than that, cryptane, cryptage, and gibraltar/crypto! That’s five right there.

15. PIE OR CAKE: it’s illegal to make me make decisions like this. I don’t even like cake and pie that much but when I’m in the mood for either one, they’re equally good. I can choose flavours though: apple pie and chocolate cake.

16. FAVORITE SCENT: Gasoline? Cigarette smoke? Those are bad for me especially since I’m asthmatic, but they’re really the only thing that come to mind. AND also this oil because it smells vividly of childhood. I still have a bottle I use from time to time.

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: I’m not really feeling any right now... but George Michael was always such a cutie :’)

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: I want to go home to Australia for a bit, and visit Vietnam again (don’t remember when I last went because I was too small...). Canada, maybe?

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: a mix of the two, but currently feeling very introvert.

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: it depends on my mood. I’m either really finicky and easily scared by anything if I’m on edge, or my brain just shuts off and blocks out the whole function of terror so when something happens, I’m just like. yeah??

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: android and not interesting in ever switching off.

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: this is a blog for a video game character!!

23. DREAM JOB: I’m chasing a career in psychiatry and I might someday return to mechanical engineering.

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: buy a nice small place somewhere!! fund the rest of my education on my own! give some of the money to my friends!!! fill my savings account to the brim!

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: im trying so hard to think of a character that i hate, but I’ve mostly enjoyed the character cast of everything I’ve watched/read/played lately. life’s too short, and so is my memory, for me to remember anything that hasn’t occurred in the past few months. at the least, it makes me a much happier man so, win for me ;)

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: hate to admit it, but I used to be a Hetalia fan. Lmao. Some of the worst people I met there, but I also met my ex-girlfriend in the fandom, and we made fangames for it together :’) one of my favourite memories of younger years.

TAGGED BY: i stole it from one of jay’s blogs... my big brain can’t remember which but go follow him on both higgs and revenant anyway

TAGGING: @deathchasing, @mircoy

#time to change this up. \` * file: meme.#abt jun.#( a little something to kick me back into being here :'] )#( while i was writing responses i found myself thinking 'what ooc icon should i use' and then i remembered oh. i dont use those anymore... )#( when did that stop being a thing? for me personally and for rping? or is it just in these circles that no one is using them? im lazy idk )#long post cw

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rinusagitora · 4 years

Text

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe, Lucien LaVey, Stan LaVey, Vera Oberlin

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, Stan/Lucien

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 4/?. WARNINGS— mentions of csa, childhood abuse, gore, violence, unreality; Vicky meets more family than she wants, and Oz and Zoe continue their search.

Oz felt great! Not only did he save Brian from a tragic tailspin which ended in Brian's violent death in a coke house, but he got Brian two dates on top of that.

He kissed Zoe. She was beautiful, how her tendrils bounced like Victorian curls as they hopped beneath colored lights and heavy music. He wasn’t one for nightlife or dancing, but everything was more fun with Zoe and with the knowledge that none of his friends were due for expiration.

Zoe gave his phobias another drink, he felt like he swallowed unbridled rapture.

His legs gave out and he fell to the floor.

---

Blood and soot spilled from his fingertips. His index fingers were curled. Blood drained into his eyes as brain matter floated midair like soap bubbles.

There were screams. They echoed around him like they echoed off mountains.

He fell. Blue snakes covered his eyes. He fell, fell, fell into pits of lightning and vats of bloodshed and drowned in the taste of metal.

---

His mouth tasted like cotton candy. Zoe held him up by his pits with a couple of her appendages and there were tears in her many, many eyes.

“Oz?” she said. “Oz, what the hell was that?”

He couldn’t catch his breath. Had he not saved Brian? Were there other triggers that drove him to drugs? Was Oz wrong from the beginning? Could the snakes have meant Vera instead? His head spun. He pushed Zoe away and dry heaved due to his headache.

Zoe rubbed his back. She didn’t move an inch, even as other dancers collided into them.

“We were wrong, weren’t we?” she said. “We need to keep looking.”

As he clutched Zoe’s arm, he nodded. Time was of the essence.

---

Vicky's fingers dug into the sides of the toilet. The morning light made her head pound. She gagged. Her stomach shoved itself into her throat. Thankfully, all she had for ten hours was water, but her heaves were still painful.

The worst of it was that refused to purge her anxiety like it purged her stomach acid.

When Vicky wiped her face, she recalled Damien's conversation with her and Brian. He wanted them to meet his parents. But Vicky wasn't anything impressive. She was cowardly and filthy and used up, and Damien was a prince. His fathers were sure to look down their nose at her. He deserved better than Vicky could have ever offered.

The three of them gathered in front of campus after school. Brian drove them to her apartment, where Damien drew a portal to Hell on her wall in chalk.

"Close your eyes," he told them, "don't open them until I say."

He grabbed their hands and dragged them through. For a split second, Vicky was assaulted by the kind of heat that singed her hair and the screams of thousands of anguished souls followed as they echoed in a stone amphitheater.

It cut out a second later. "You guys are good now," said Damien.

They were in his room. It was clean, unremarkable. He quickly led them outside. “My dads are in the family room. It’s this way.”

“This is surprisingly domestic,” Vicky remarked. There were beige carpet and pictures on eggshell-colored walls outside. She expected weathered stone and armor stands, or something gruesome and gothic.

“My parents built this under the castle. They say it helps them compartmentalize or something.”

“Well, this isn’t nearly as scary as I expected. I was gearing up for a torture dungeon and guards with pitchforks.”

“Oh, there are plenty of dungeons. They’re just upstairs.”

Damien opened the door into the family room. His parents were a giant blue horned creature and a scrawny red thing vaguely reminiscent of Oz, with his monochromatic eyes and absence of a mouth. They both wore sweats and t-shirts and had PlayThing controllers in hand.

“Hey, dads,” Damien said, “these are my partners: Brian and Vicky. Brian, Vicky, these are my dads. That’s Stan,” he pointed to the blue man, “and Lucien,” he then pointed at the red demon.

“Well, hello there! We’ve heard so many good things about the two of you. Damien never shuts up! In fact, sometimes he gets so excited and starts talking so fast that I only understand every other word. Come, sit,” said Lucien, after he furiously shook her and Brian’s hands.

“Dad, please,” Damien bashfully mumbled.

Vicky sat beside Stan. She felt like a bug.

“So, tell us more about you,” Lucien said.

“Well,” Brian began, “I play football, keep my grade point average around two-point-nine so I can stay on the team. I like alcohol. I’ve been infatuated with Brian and Vicky for around nine months now. Oh, I can sleep past three in the afternoon given the opportunity, too, but that’s only because I’ve royally fucked over my sleep schedule thanks to our friends Oz and Zoe keeping me up until godforsaken hours of the morning binging our shows.”

When Vicky’s turn came, she felt trapped. Embarrassed. The only things about her were tragedy and robbery. “Well… I’m an A-student. I make a living bank-robbing, sometimes I go bowling with my friends Vera and Liam. I get creamed every time.”

“God, me too. I tried throwing the ball instead of rolling it, and we got kicked out,” Stan said.

“Y’know, I tried throwing it too, but I ended up breaking the floor.”

“It’s all in the wrist. I’ll show you the next time we go bowling,” Stan promised.

“So… plans for college? Or marriage?” Lucien asked.

Brian and Vicky choked on their spit. “Dad,” Damien hissed, “we’re not there yet!”

“Well, don’t you like them, Damien?”

“Of course, but it makes people uncomfortable talking about it, dad,” Damien argued.

“Lucien, he’s right. Asking couples from the surface about marriage makes them incredibly awkward for some reason,” Stan said.

Lucien sighed. “Alright, I apologize. Is college still a safe topic?”

“Yeah,” Brian replied. “I’ve been offered a couple of sports scholarships.”

“I, uh…” Vicky swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t have any plans for her future. The furthest ahead she planned for her future was her next bank robbery and her next exam. Meanwhile, Brian already had college lined up, and Damien’s future was secured by his kingdom and passion for cosmetology. It was like there was no future for Vicky, only survival in the present.

“I’ve been submitting applications to colleges. I’m not entirely sure what I want to do, though,” she lied.

“You have your whole life ahead of you, Vicky. You don’t have to have the whole thing laid out yet,” Lucien reassured her. “Life sure as hell didn’t go as planned for us, after all.”

Stan sighed wistfully. “I didn’t expect I’d be king. My siblings all killed each other, so I just assumed I’d be killed in a power struggle as well. I certainly didn’t foresee marrying and bearing a child with my archnemesis.” He held Lucien’s hand with an adoring smile. “I wouldn’t change a thing, though. Maybe in time, you’ll find a place with us in Hell if you can’t find anywhere else, Vicky. God knows you’re already damned even being near our son.”

Vicky felt like the walls peeled and buried her beneath paint chips. “If I could be excused,” she said, “I need to use the restroom.”

"Take a right, it'll be the second door on the right.”

Vicky escaped into the bathroom, locked the door, and spiraled into a panic attack so extreme she had to brace the sink to keep herself upright. Her tears and snot trickled down the drain as Vicky struggled to catch her breath among her loathful and livid thoughts. Lucien and Stan were unimpressed, and it was only a matter of time before Damien realized she was a dud and left her, or worse, never spoke to his family again thanks to her.

She wept and fell onto the linoleum, where she curled up into a tight ball.

A knock came from the door. “Babe? Are you alright?” Damien asked.

“I-I’m fine,” Vicky said nasally, an obvious giveaway for her very much not okay-ness. She cursed under her breath. “I just need a minute.”

“Hey, are you crying?”

“No.”

“You sound like you’re crying. I know what you sound like when you’re crying. Baby, let me in, let’s talk about this. Open the door.”

Vicky mechanically opened the door. She couldn’t look Damien in the eye, even when he lifted her face up. She squeezed her eyelids so tightly it made her ears rumble.

“Look at me. What’s wrong? You’re kinda freaking me out, babe.”

“Just,” Vicky groaned and wiped her face with toilet paper, “they don’t like me. Your dads.”

“Of course they like you. They were really excited to meet you and Brian.”

“No! I’m a whore, they’re gonna figure out I’m cheap and forgettable. You’re a prince. I’m gonna drag you down one of these days.”

“I don’t really want to rule Hell, babe. They may not understand that, but my dads will try. And they do like you, a lot, in fact. They think you’re down to earth and polite. Politically, they think you’d be a relatable symbol to bring the royal family closer to our citizens. They want you to be a part of our family. I want that too.”

Vicky stood still as stone as Damien hugged her. He was so intense, it was too much for her. “I love you so much,” Damien said, “what can I do to help you feel better, Vicky?”

She shook her head. “I’m just… scared. I’m out of my element.”

“I understand, but you’re gonna be fine. Brian and I are here for you! We’re always here for you.” Damien helped Vicky clean up her face of tears and snot. “Let’s get you fixed up and have some dinner. Dad made ravioli.”

“Okay.”

Vicky shoved her face back into place and dabbed her face dry with toilet paper. Damien kissed her before he led her into the conjoined kitchen and dining room.

She was not comfortable among Damien’s family. She was unused to affection and proximity, like how Lucien pet her hair, or how Damien jostled her back and forth while he told them of one of their hijinks, but her boyfriends were happy, and Vicky wanted to be happy with them for the time being before she learned how to be happy with a family on her own.

Damien took Brian and Vicky back into his room after dinner. “Are you sure you guys have to go home? There’s a king-sized bed in the guest room we can use.”

“I’d feel weird staying here…. I don’t do well in sleepovers,” Vicky said

“And I won’t lie, I've been putting off my extra credit for, like, a month, and it's due tomorrow morning," replied Brian.

Damien sighed. "Alright. I'll see you guys tomorrow, then."

She and Brian tumbled through the doorway into their world and emerged in her bedroom. Vicky kissed Brian goodnight on his way out.

It was nice to be home after her exhaustive episode at Damien’s house. But she had work she needed to do, so she dialed for Vera.

“Hi. I figured I should ask how the plans are coming along,” Vicky said.

“Splendidly. I’m glad you called,” said Vera. “Something occurred to me the other day. We get tons of cash from the banks, but imagine the payout getting just as much money from a drug lab, and taking their product and selling it. No middle man, just an enormous profit after we sell it to dealers. I crunched the numbers and we’ll make almost twice what we do robbing banks.”

That was enough to convince Vicky. “That sounds great! We’ll have to take precautions, though. They’ll have tons of guns if we rob a lab.”

“Absolutely. But that’s why we’ll do it the day after tomorrow. I’m having full gear shipped in. Body armor, automatic weapons, cell jammers, the whole gambit.”

“That’s great.”

“There’s still the issue of us getting ambushed, though. Most of these labs I’ve had scouted have at least seven people in there. Drugs, seven hardened criminals against the two of us, plus guns? Even with body armor, I don’t like those odds, so I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay. What did you want to ask?”

“This won’t be much different from our ordinary arrangement. The thing is with these labs: they’ll have product and money stashed everywhere. Can you keep seven people at bay while I search the house? I can handle the jammers, tying everyone up, and whatever miscellaneous tasks that come up since seven people are a lot to handle for anyone, but I need you to keep them under control.”

“Of course. It should be easy once we’ve frisked them and tied them up.”

“Vicky, you are amazing, you know,” Vera said. “I need your size, though.”

“I normally go with a medium. I’m twenty-eight, twenty-four, twenty-eight if that means anything.”

“Ooh, hourglass,” Vera cooed. “Alright. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, Vicky. Have a good night.”

“You too, Vera. I love you. Sweet dreams.”

---

Vicky enjoyed her chemistry class. The smell of chlorine and formaldehyde made her giddy, but she was still exhausted from her visit to Hell. She only wanted to Brian and Damien on either side of her.

But Vicky had an exam. She studied hard for it and all that effort would have gone to waste if she played hooky. So she kissed Brian and Damien when she saw them that morning and then perused her notebook with formulas and compounds and the likes expertly drawn onto her notebook.

In the middle of the exam, Vicky was called to the office over the intercom. Fear struck her heart. Had someone found out about the robberies?

Vicky made her way to the administrator’s office. When she walked inside, a large creature, tall and bald, sat in the waiting area.

She wanted to puke.

"Vicky!" Eugene cried with delight. He lumbered over to Vicky, who was frozen in place. "I've missed you so much." His thick fingers brushed through her hair. She wanted to break his arm again and again until it was fucking paste.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

"I told you. I've missed you so much, I want us to be a family again."

A family, like when he pinned her face in her pillows and took her raw like she was a slab of meat.

Vicky tore away from Eugene with a cry of horror. Blood rushed into her legs. The memory of his torment crashed around her like Eugene threw open the floodgates. Vicky had to hide from Eugene's bloodthirst. The forest should have been sufficient protection.

Outside, Damien and Scott caught her arm.

“Vicky, what’s wrong, you look like you saw a ghost,” Scott said.

“Let go!” Vicky screamed. She tugged her arm as hard as she could, but Scott was so much stronger than she was. "Help! Somebody help me!"

“Vicky, it’s us!” Damien said, “tell us what’s wrong.”

“He’s here! He’s going to hurt me!”

“Who’s going to hurt you?”

Vicky picked at her stitches. They unraveled, and her arm fell off in the middle of her forearm, and she took off as fast as her legs carried her. She ran until her eyes only saw the forest, the school was hidden behind leaves and wood, and Eugene disappeared with it.

---

"He?" Damien grumbled. Not a second later, it felt like he was kicked in the gut. “Eugene is here,” he realized.

He was back to hurt Vicky. His precious Vicky, whose smile outshined the moon and stars and who was brave enough to stand against the world with jolly comparable to the holiday spirit.

Damien never saw red so vividly when he took off for the administrator’s office.

He grabbed Eugene, a tall, bald man, by the back of his shirt, and heaved him into hellfire, where they disappeared into Damien’s room. Eugene instinctually froze as he processed the transportation, which Damien used to throw him across the room.

“You son of a bitch!” Damien boomed. “She used to be so happy, and you ruined her, so I’m gonna ruin you!”

Eugene pushed himself onto Damien’s bed. It was a fruitless escape, since Damien’s tail wrapped around Eugene’s ankle and pulled as hard as he could.

“Please don't do this,” Eugene pleaded.

“Did you stop when Vicky begged you to stop? Did you ever consider how much it hurt her being your sex toy? How much it hurt for a grown man to fuck a kid?” Damien grabbed him by his collar and threw him onto the floor. “You don’t fucking deserve to live, you sick bastard. I’m gonna throw you into a boiling cauldron and stab you for the rest of eternity with a motherfucking pitchfork!”

He kneeled on Eugene’s shoulders once he pinned Eugene to the floor. Damien pulled a knife from his waistband and stabbed Eugene square in the jugular. Eugene flailed and gurgled. Damien forced his head back by his chin, raised the knife high above them, and then slammed it down as hard as he could. He heard the knife snap when it severed Eugene’s spine and connected with the floor below them.

Eugene began to disintegrate into black ash. Damien had a lot to clean between the ash and blood. Damien breathed for a minute before he reached into his pocket to text Vera and Brian. Not a second later, Brian’s call came in.

“What the hell do you mean Vicky is missing?” he screamed over the receiver.

“I mean she ran into the forest not too long ago and we need to look for her before it gets dark,” Damien said he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I need to do some cleanup at home before I can come back.”

“What kind of cleanup, Damien?”

“Eugene was a real bastard to her as a kid. He decided to pay her a visit. I took care of him, but I need to clean my room before my parents get back,” Damien explained. "We need to keep this between us for now, though, okay?"

“... thank you, I’m sure she appreciates it. I love you. I’ll let you know when we find Vicky, okay?”

“Thanks, Brian. I love you too.”

---

It became unbelievably cold as dusk rolled around. The cold bit at her skin like rats nibbled at dying flesh.

“Vicky?”

When her name was called, Vicky covered her sobs with her hands. Not a sound escaped between her fingers despite how her heart tumbled into her gut. She rocked in place. Her efforts for self-preservation were useless.

"Baby, it's me," Brian said. "Come down here."

Vicky carefully opened her eyes. Brian stood alone on the ground with a flashlight pointed into the pine tree to illuminate her.

"We've been looking for you for hours, Vicky. Let's take you home."

"No!" she snapped. "He's still out there. He knows where I am. He's going to hurt me!"

"Vicky, Eugene will never hurt you again. You have me and Damien who'll protect you. I know Vera would do just about anything to keep you safe."

Vicky cursed herself. Brian was dirty and tired of searching for the forest. She was so juvenile in her fear, to run and hide. Brian and Damien must have been worried sick. Vera must have been pretty put out as well.

She made her way down the tree trunk and ran into Brian's embrace. He squeezed her like he wanted to mold them together.

"I'm sorry," Vicky said. "He was gonna do something awful, though! I'm a little toy to Eugene. You guys wouldn't recognize me when he was done. I didn't know what else to other than run as far away as I could. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you guys."

Brian, with his face buried in her neck, said, "It's okay. I'm just so glad you're safe. Let's put this awfulness behind us and go home."

Vicky nodded obediently.

Her arm was in the back of Brian's truck. She pulled it into her lap. Vicky couldn't reattach it in the car since it was too shaky, but she was glad to have it back.

It still felt like Eugene was just outside the door with a hook in hand. Vicky clutched her arm like a club.

When Brian parked outside Vicky's apartment, she saw Damien pace through the window. His hands raked through his hair, his tail twitched like the tail of a nervous cat. Brian guided her inside by her hand. Vicky felt awful. He must have been so worried about her.

Damien looked like the weight of the world fell off his shoulders when she walked inside.

"I'm so glad you're okay, " he said.

"I'm sorry, " Vicky replied as she hugged her disembodied arm to her chest, "I got scared and ran."

He pulled her hands into his own. He kissed her knuckles. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Vicky's shower was too small for even two of them to occupy, but Brian brought her a clean set of clothes and Damien found quilts stashed in her closet. The three of them wordlessly laid together, she was sandwiched between Brian and Damien, like they were shields.

They weren't enough for Vicky to tear her eyes away from her door until she finally couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

#monster prom #vicky schmidt #damien lavey #brian yu #oz monster prom #zoe monster prom #stan lavey #lucien lavey #brian/damien/vicky #oz/zoe #lucien/stan #vera oberlin

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dr-gloom · 5 years

Text

Recover

Part 7!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairings: Past Reman (Roman/Remy), Past Anxceit

Summary: Virgil goes over to Roman's to watch some movies. He's been feeling great lately, and wants to just have a relaxing day with his friend away from the apartment. Nothing bad could possibly happen, right?

Tags/Warnings: mentioned rape, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of psychological abuse, PTSD, Panic Attack, description of rape

Read it on AO3

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Virgil glances down at his phone as it buzzes with an incoming text. He grins when he sees Roman’s name and unlocks the phone, reading the text.

Wanna come over and watch movies, JD-Lightful? :D

Virgil rolls his eyes and texts back.

sure dude, as long as you dont pick any more dumb musicals this time

D:< NEWSIES IS A CLASSIC

actually pretty sure to be a classic it has to be old

and good

HOW DARE just get your emo butt over here, i miss you </3

Virgil laughs, typing out his reply and sending it before rolling out of bed to get ready.

relax romeo

im getting ready, be there in 20

Virgil’s phone buzzes again, but he ignores it in favor of pulling his torn black jeans over his hips and tying the laces of his black boots. It’s probably just Roman letting him know he read the text, anyways. He throws his hoodie on and pockets his phone and wallet, exiting his room.

He walks through the apartment, spotting Patton and Logan on the couch and waving to them. “Heading over to Roman’s, I’ll be back later.”

Patton turns to look at him, smiling. “Okay kiddo! You gonna be home in time for dinner?”

Virgil shrugs. “I dunno. I’ll text you if not, ‘kay?”

Patton nods and goes back to watching the movie. Logan waves goodbye to him before watching the movie as well, and the front door shuts.

Virgil trots down the stairs, turning on the sidewalk to head towards Roman’s place. He actually doesn’t live that far from the park that Virgil likes to visit, so he won’t be walking for long. As he passes the park, he looks around at the various families and health-nuts dotting the playground and trails. He smiles lightly. It’s been such a good few months, despite some minor hiccups, and this is probably the best he’s felt since he left Dee. He still gets nightmares, and he still has panic attacks, but thanks to the support he has they’re becoming more of a rarity.

He passes the park and keeps walking until he makes it to an apartment complex that’s admittedly more high-end than the one he and Patton live in. He checks his phone to make sure he remembers the apartment number and climbs the steps once he finds the right building, knocking hesitantly. The door bursts open almost instantly to show an excited Roman in a white shirt and red flannel pajama bottoms. Virgil laughs.

“Dude, it’s like, almost noon.”

Roman steps aside to let him in, grinning. “So? This is my apartment, I do what I want.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Sure, okay.” He plops down on the couch and grins at Roman as he sits down next to him. “So what’re we watchin’?” Roman shrugs and grabs his remote, switching the TV to Netflix. “What do you feel like watching?”

Virgil groans and flops onto his side, his head in Roman’s lap. Roman runs his fingers through Virgil’s purple locks. “Why would you ask that? Now we’ll never pick a movie. We’re stuck in the ‘I don’t know, what do you wanna watch’ loop. You know I hate loops.”

Roman laughs. “Fine, how about The Little Mermaid?”

Virgil nods. “Sounds good.”

Roman puts the movie on and sets the remote aside, still running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as the movie starts. Virgil doesn’t bother telling him to stop or sitting up; he likes this, and he doesn’t get enough physical contact, in his humble opinion. He always feels awkward asking Patton for hugs, and he’s seemed kind of busy anyways. The two men watch the movie in relative silence, if you don’t include Roman singing along quietly. It’s nice to just spend time relaxing like this, not worrying, not stressing, no intrusive thoughts of the past or anxieties.

After the movie’s over, Roman gets up to make them some popcorn. He comes back to find that Virgil is still laying down, effectively in Roman’s spot, and rests the popcorn bowl on Virgil’s pelvis in retaliation. Virgil huffs and sits up, holding the bowl, and goes right back to laying in Roman’s lap once he’s seated. Roman puts on Pocahontas, relaxing back into his couch and grabbing a handful of popcorn as it starts. “And for the record I’m not playing the second movie after this. It’s contrived romance-forcing garbage.”

Virgil looks up with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Wow, I never thought I’d ever hear you say something negative about Disney.”

Roman huffs. “The sequel is horrible! They could have left well enough alone, but they just had to continue it and have Pocahontas fall for another man. It’s PocaSmith erasure!”

“...Poca...Smith…?”

“Shut up, it’s their ship name.”

Virgil laughs. “Whatever you say.”

Virgil is so relaxed by the time Pocahontas is over that he doesn’t realize which movie Roman chose afterwards until the music starts. Oh no. Oh, shit.

Beauty and the Beast.

Virgil took a deep breath. It was okay. It was fine. He just…. Had to keep calm. Yeah. He couldn’t tell Roman to change the movie; he’d ask why, and Virgil would have to tell him the truth because he’s such a bad liar, and then Roman would pity him, or be disgusted by him, or hate him for ruining Disney, or-.

Okay, no, that is not how you stay calm, Virgil. Deep breaths.

Roman lightly scratches at Virgil’s scalp. He can’t tell what’s going on in Virgil’s head, but he can sense how tense Virgil is and knows Virgil might need something grounding to focus on. Virgil would thank him if being grounded didn’t mean having to focus on the movie.

Belle walked down the path from her house into the village, singing the beginning song. His breathing picked up just slightly with the pacing of the song. He can do this. Concentrate. Breathe. Gaston is introduced, and Virgil feels like he’s going to be sick. He can feel the ghost of lips on his shoulder and neck. He rubs them roughly to chase off the feeling.

“Virgil? Are you okay?”

Virgil nods, forcing his voice past his lips. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Roman doesn’t look like he believes him, but he drops it.

Philip and Belle’s father enter the woods, and Virgil’s breathing starts to pick up again. He feels like he’s back on that couch with Dee, sitting quietly as the other bites and sucks marks into his neck. He sits up, the feeling of Roman’s leg against his cheek making him nauseous.

“Virgil?”

Virgil shakes his head. Belle starts singing. He can’t breathe. Roman says something, but he doesn’t hear it. All he can hear is Dee questioning him. “Are you saying you don’t love me, Virgil? That you don’t think I’m attractive?” Virgil whimpers and curls in on himself, clamping his hands over his ears and tucking his head between his knees.

“Virgil!”

Virgil lets out a choked-off scream, the sound absolutely pitiful and completely heartbreaking. The ghost of Dee’s hands on him, in him, is suffocating him, stealing his breath and making his thoughts spiral. Hands on him make him scream and he scrambles off the couch, his head smacking into the coffee table in his struggle. He distantly hears his name being called, but all he’s focused on is getting away, getting somewhere safe, getting away from Dee. His back presses into a corner and he curls in on himself again.

The noise from the TV stops, and soft footsteps shuffle closer. Virgil grips and pulls at his hair, scratches his neck and shoulders and arms, trying to chase off the ghost of Dee’s touch. Someone - Roman, Virgil’s foggy mind supplies - takes his hands to keep him from doing any more damage to himself.

“Virgil, you need to breathe. Come on, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight.” He leads Virgil through the exercise a few times until he’s breathing normally, though he’s still curled up in the corner. Roman frowns in concern, running his thumbs over Virgil’s knuckles. “Wanna talk about it?” Virgil has a far-off look in his eyes, but he blinks a few times and it goes away. He nods, glancing down at his lap.

“I uh… I don’t like Beauty and the Beast.”

Roman raises an eyebrow slightly. “Well I kind of got that… but why?”

Virgil’s face pinches, and Roman squeezes his hands reassuringly. Virgil takes a deep breath and starts explaining.

He explains how, a couple months before they met, he’d been watching Beauty and the Beast with Dee. He tells Roman that he’d tried his hardest to be good, and Dee rewarded him by putting on his favorite movie. His voice starts to waver as he describes how Dee used the movie to distract Virgil, pushing his boundaries until Virgil had to say something. He closes his eyes and tells Roman how Dee had questioned his love and pressured him into sex, how he hadn’t wanted it but he’d been terrified that Dee would beat him, or leave him. He cries as he tells Roman how Dee had gone in dry, how much it hurt, how Dee had ruined Be Our Guest and walked away when he was done.

Roman holds his arms open in a question, and Virgil hugs his friend tightly. Roman runs a hand through Virgil’s hair as he calms himself down again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Virge…. Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would have changed the movie.”

Virgil whines. “I didn’t want you to…. Be disgusted, or… or think less of me.” Roman’s frown deepens and he sighs, sitting back on the heels of his hands.

“I told you about Remy, right?”

Virgil nods. “Yeah, a little. You told me he was… kind of like Dee.”

Roman nods.

“I met Remy back in my freshman year of college. He was loud, sassy, impulsive, had a horrible sense of direction, and was easily the most flamboyant person I’ve ever met. We hit it off instantly at a college frat party and our romance, as they say, was hot and heavy. We had more… physical chemistry than emotional, I think. Before I knew what was happening he was pressuring me into skipping classes to have sex, getting me drunk so I wouldn’t ‘harsh his mood’ and leave, dragging me to parties when I should have been studying or doing homework. I failed all my classes that semester, and had to retake everything. I was so mad at him, but I didn’t break it off.”

Virgil’s eyebrows were furrowed, looking angry and confused. “Why?”

Roman shakes his head, shrugging. “I’m not completely sure. I think, at the time, I told myself we could do better, that we could talk through our problems. I thought I loved him.

“As expected, things only got worse. I dropped out my third year because I was still struggling through classes. I tried to talk to Remy about all the partying, about being more responsible, getting a job since I wasn’t in college anymore. He didn’t really like that. He said if I got a job he’d never see me.”

Virgil flinches slightly at the familiar words.

“He started saying things that would make me doubt myself. I questioned every decision I made, from the outfits I wore to the food I cooked - Remy would always comment that I was getting fat. I started hating myself, hating how I looked, how I acted. I needed Remy to validate me, like I needed air. And when he would get mad at me and say something that didn’t even sound like an insult but it just had this tone and you knew you did something - I never hated myself more.”

Virgil chews on his lip, looking down at his hands. “So then…. How’d you leave him? I know that’s- I know it can be hard…”

Roman nods. “Actually, I was pretty lucky. He broke up with me.”

Virgil looks up, surprised. “Seriously?”

Roman nods again. “He said he was tired of how clingy I’d become. Found someone who was more self-assured, whatever he meant by that. I’m not sure. But! That was the end. It took… a while, but I recovered. And you’ll recover, too. I promise.”

Virgil smiles weakly. “Thanks, Ro.”

Roman stands, offering his hand to Virgil. “Of course. What do you want to watch?”

Virgil thinks as they walk back over to the couch and sit, Virgil leaning into Roman’s side a bit. “Moana?”

Roman smiles, wrapping an arm around Virgil. “Perfect.”

A/N: if I missed any tags/warnings, please message me!

love you kiddos, stay safe! <3

Taglist: @hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance @punsterterry @unbefuckinglieveable @metaphoricalpluto2 @bunny222 @a-fander-named-skittles

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #deceit sanders #rape tw #alcohol abuse #emotional abuse #psychological abuse #panic attack

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eldritchsurveys · 6 years

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o81.

[[ Random Survey Questions // By @x-hallie-x ]] 1. When was the last time you realized something about yourself, your abilities, or your financial situation that left you feeling disappointed? >> I’m not sure. I feel like I’ve got a pretty solid perception of my financial situation, and considering it’s the best it’s been since I’ve hit adulthood, I can’t imagine being too disappointed (except when new video games come out lmao but half the time I buy them anyway because... like, I can, for once, and my brain goblins can’t prevent me from treating myself forever!). As far as my mental state is concerned, Can Calah won’t let me beat myself up about that, so entertaining any sort of disappointment in myself is out of the question.

2. Generally, are you more likely to blame others or yourself for problems you experience? >> Generally, I’m more likely to blame myself than others. But I don’t think that’s any better than blaming others. I am as much a product of my environment and the other people in my life as I am a product of whatever wild magical shit happens to make brains the way they are. I can control what I can control, but a lot of things about my life are out of my control. Finding things to place blame on really just doesn’t help me fix things, so I don’t care who’s to blame, I care how it can be fixed/helped.

3. What is one thing about your life that you don’t ever see changing, even if you might wish it would? >> I probably will never be a person that is gainfully employed or self-sufficient. And, honestly, that would hurt me more if I didn’t have someone who is gainfully employed and self-sufficient who is willing to use that for both of our benefit. I was basically convinced that everyone in this country is out for whatever they can get for themselves, and if I can’t keep up with that, then I’m not worth keeping around. I’d been convinced that people saw me as a leech who just existed to suck up all their resources, and had nothing of value to offer in return. It’s a very insidious mentality to have absorbed, but the longer I’m here, the less power it has over me, so I guess I do have her to thank for that.

4. At what point in your life have you been the most social or had the most friendships? And at which point have you been the least social? >> I guess when I lived in NYC, in general. I had a couple of persistent social circles: the Streetwork LES crew (homeless/destitute youth who went to the drop-in center on the Lower East Side called Streetwork), and the vamp scene crew (self-styled “vampyres” who participated in a big underground subculture, subdivided themselves into Houses and Clans, and threw a lot of parties). Most of those people weren’t what I’d call my friends, per se -- we were very friendly, sure, and I had a lot of good times with them, but most of those people didn’t really measure up to what I’d want out of friendship (and the rest were just casual acquaintances). I guess now is when I’ve been the least social; I know almost no one out here and the people I do know are really just... friendly acquaintances, I guess? Social-media buddies? We don’t really know things about each other, you know, like friends do... I don’t know. At this age, I don’t know how friendships form and I don’t know how to find out. The Internet is where my friends are now and I guess that’s just the way it has to be until I figure out something else (or until I move to a less socially-uptight area).

5. Do you prefer to have a few close friends or a bunch of random acquaintances? Which would describe what you have now? >> I’d like to have a mix of both. I just like to have people to be social with, in a variety of ways. Like I had in New York... Right now, I don’t know what I have. I’m kinda off this subject because it depresses me, ngl, no offence to anyone.

6. Do you journal? Generally, what do you write about? Do you find it helpful to get your thoughts out that way, or do you prefer another form of self-expression? >> I used to journal. I used to be really into journalling. But I guess, instead of trying to stick to the same practices I used to do, maybe I ought to recognise that my instinct to journal has been diverted into other forms of media -- like keeping a tumblr, and taking surveys. These all exist as records of my life -- as proof that I was here, that I existed, that these things happened to me. The internet enables me to keep a multimedia record of my existence, and that’s actually more than I could expect from just one paper journal, or whatever. Journalling (on various journal sites especially) was indeed a helpful way for me to get my thoughts out, but I guess now I just talk to Can Calah instead. I think I got put off writing my thoughts down because my instinct is to keep stuff like that public, because it’s all me and I am an open book, but then people (not just one person, either, this is just a thing people do in general, and I guess it’s understandable but oh my god) would get upset about stuff later and it’d just get messy. So I got put off being emotional on the internet because it backfired on me a lot lmao. I’m working on getting over it.

7. Do you like eating foods that other people have cooked for you, or do you prefer to have control over your meals? >> I do like eating food that other people have cooked for me -- as long as it’s food I like. And as long as it isn’t like... some kind of social trap. Like, I was annoyed with Sparrow’s mother for a few months because she wasn’t respecting my boundaries and always had some stupid shit to say about me to Sparrow and I don’t play that fucking shit. So I basically stopped being nice to her. And she kept trying to do stuff like... like Easter dinner, she made it “Southern-style” and made collards and banana pudding and shit. And like, this is a Midwestern White(tm) we’re talking about. That’s not the kind of stuff she naturally makes for any occasion. And she told Sparrow that she’d asked around (I guess at her job??? or something?) about what Black people eat on holidays??? And Sparrow’s like “but you could have just asked Logan if there was any dishes he wanted to be served”. Like, it’s not fucking rocket science, I’m right here. But she’ll always do shit like that, trying to ingratiate herself, when it’s not that fucking hard!!!! Don’t touch me, don’t talk about me to my fiancée behind my back, and ask me things directly!!!! WOW! SO HARD! (Also, the banana pudding was a fucking miss because bananas are one of like 3 foods on this entire planet that I don’t like. Which... she would have known... if she’d asked me first. But no, it was just all “oh I did this, I did that, he’s not grateful” bitch I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS. STOP IT.) Anyway, shit like that I hate. But people making food for me in general is great, because I hate cooking.

8. Have you ever been somewhere and REALLY didnt like a food that you were expected to eat? How did you deal with this? Are you someone who is likely to suck it up and be polite or refuse and save your taste buds? >> Yeah, that same Easter holiday I just mentioned. The collards were terrible, the fish was meh, and everything else was food I don’t care for (cheesy potatoes and that kinda starch-heavy fare). So I basically drank wine and played on my phone the whole time. As you can see, politeness is not something I feel compelled to give if I don’t want to.

9. What is one way in which you compare yourself to others? In this comparison, do you regard yourself as better or worse off than the people to whom you usually do the comparing? >> Well, I compare myself to other fanwriters a lot, because it’s something I can’t help. I don’t think I’m a bad writer. I’ve been writing literally all of my conscious life, and I’ve watched myself progress. I’m generally pretty fair about my strengths and weaknesses in writing. When my confidence is where it’s supposed to be, and I’ve been writing often, I turn out some pretty good shit. I like my work. But my confidence took a big hit at some point lately, and I’m not sure why. All I know is that I feel like my offerings to fandom are like... boring to people, or not interesting enough, or??? I don’t know. And I feel like I don’t have any stories worth telling anymore. These are all feelings and really not based in any sort of reality, because my friends and partner tell me they like my work and my OCs, and tumblr as a whole is so astoundingly saturated with fanwork that the lack of interest most likely has nothing to do with my content and more to do with the fact that the market is full up and people don’t have time. I know all that, but when I sit down and go “okay, self, let’s write a fic”, all these mental blocks land in my path and I get too tired to deal with it and just scroll my dash instead. I don’t know what to do, but I guess I’ll just truck along until something in me changes. :/

10. What is something you’ve been particularly grateful for lately? >> That while my thanatophobia is nowhere near fixed, it’s been a little quieter lately. I’ve been able to sleep, and being able to sleep makes a lot of other things more manageable by default, so it’s like an ouroboros (in this case, a good one; but when I can’t sleep then it becomes a terrible one, lol). I’m using the lull to try to install some better programming, some less spiral-y thought patterns, that sort of thing. I don’t know if it’s helping, but I’ve literally got more to gain than I stand to lose, so.

11. What kind of change or opportunity would be the biggest help in your life right now? >> A therapist. But... like, one I feel like I can build a relationship with, not one who I dread seeing (which has been every therapist I’ve ever had). But like, besides just the benefit to my mental health... the clock is really ticking; recertification for SSI will most likely be happening within the next year and I have no psych team. How will they know how to judge my case if I’m not in any kind of treatment? That’s how people end up cut off. :T

12. Is there one emotion that you experience more often than any other? Is there an emotion you rarely ever experience? >> I experience amusement most often, probably. If that’s an emotion. An emotion I rarely experience is... shame? Most likely.

13. How mature would you say you are? What qualities do you think make a person mature? >> I don’t know how to gauge maturity, least of all my own. What is my basis for comparison? Adulthood as it is in modern USian society is a crock, most of the time -- the way people understand it is all kinds of flawed. What are our passage rites? Who are our elders? Where do we learn how to be a productive member of our community (and not just a cog in the capitalist machine)? The people we look up to are often no better off than we are. Individualism as a social standard (as opposed to the understanding of oneself as an individual) and the division of the community structure has ruined our ability to understand ourselves in relation to other people properly. What is maturity, in a society like this? What is my role in my society, and how well am I fulfilling it? What have I learned about life, and how much of it is truly worth knowing and passing on? Questions, questions, questions.

14. When was the last time you believed there might be something seriously medically wrong with you? What was the ultimate diagnosis? >> I mean, I always think my body’s about to fall apart, even though I’m aware that’s illogical and just a byproduct of thanatophobia. I don’t think I’ve ever thought anything was seriously medically wrong with me, because generally nothing is.

15. What is one illness you are afraid of having? Do you know anyone who has faced this illness? >> Anything that involves degeneration of the brain (Alzheimer’s and the sort). And no, I don’t know anyone personally with anything like that.

16. How do you tend to behave when you’re sick? What kinds of things do you like people to do for you, if anything, to help you feel better? >> I’m so rarely ill that I’m not even sure, lmao. I think it’d depend on what kind of sick I am, because different illnesses require different methods of care.

17. If you’re someone who rarely eats breakfast, is there a reason for this? If you do usually eat breakfast, are there any other meals you avoid or skip for any reason, and why so? >> I mean, I eat when I’m hungry, and I don’t care what the time of day is (as long as it’s not too close to bedtime). So I don’t really label my meals using “breakfast”, “lunch”, and so on.

18. When was the last time you did something you were proud of? Were other people proud of you as well? Does it matter to you whether or not other people care about your accomplishments, or is your own satisfaction enough? >> Probably finishing some questline in a video game. And no, I mean, I didn’t really tell anyone or anything. It’s not really an important thing. Woo, big deal, video games, who cares.

19. What is your least favorite thing about the season you’re currently experiencing? Are you okay with most types of weather, or are you only happy under certain conditions? >> I don’t like sweating or feeling lethargic because of heat / humidity. I’m usually okay with most types of weather as long as they’re not extreme, but if there are long stretches of cloudy / rainy days I feel pretty diminished and gloomy-doomy.

20. Have you made any changes to your style or “look” lately? How often do you change your appearance, hairstyle, fashion, etc? Or is it a pretty constant thing? >> No, not really. I don’t know what to change. My executive function when it comes to appearance is like... in negative integers. I just... I lost the knack for it. Whatever.

21. What are some things you do to feel pampered? >> I’m not sure I ever feel pampered, lmao. I tried to think about it and I just got this tangled ball of wires regarding like, stuff I can’t even explain quickly, so I’m just gonna move on.

22. What was the last thing you felt hopeful about? Do you think there’s a good chance of whatever-it-is working out in your favor, or not so much? >> Well, the last thing I felt hopeful about was getting out to see The Equalizer 2 today, and then the whole debit card thing happened, so I actually had my hopes dashed. And all because I did what I was supposed to do! But doing what I was supposed to do means that now I have to wait for a new debit card, which means I can’t go to the movies today (I can’t get to the bank and just get cash, which is what the lady on the phone said to do! I don’t fucking drive!!!). So, you know. Right now I’m just focusing on salvaging my day and my mood.

23. In what ways are you prone to black and white thinking? In what ways do you see more in terms of color or gray? >> I don’t know, I’m mostly a grey person by necessity or by design or whatever. Sometimes I’ll think “I’m a complete fucking idiot” because I did one dumb thing, or something, but like... it’s just because I’m upset about the one thing and can’t properly process that one thing at the moment without like, making a mountain out of it. That’s why I just try to distract myself until the feeling passes, because that’s the only way to get my brain to move on.

24. Are there types of people you will simply never understand (not necessarily ~empathize with) no matter how hard you might try? Are there people you seem to understand almost immediately? >> Well, yeah, definitely. I mean, I can’t possibly understand everyone. I don’t expect myself to, either. I guess I understand people who are like me? Like, that’s logical, right? I don’t know.

25. When was the last time you tried something you’ve never tried before? How likely are you to break from your routine and try new things? >> The only thing I can think of recently is playing Journey, because I’d never played that before. I don’t know how often I try new things, especially since a lot of “trying new things” involves either money I don’t have or access I don’t have.

26. Have you ever “recovered” from anything? What does “recovery” mean or look like to you? >> I don’t think so. I think mental recovery is a long-term shifting of paradigms and changing of perspective that can only be truly comprehended in retrospect. I think in that respect, I’ll be recovering for a long time. This is why I prefer the small-scale focus rather than the wide-scale focus, because using the wide-scale focus too much makes everything feel bleak and futile -- we may have a more complex consciousness and a more complex understanding of time and space, but I think exercising that cosmic viewpoint frequently can be really taxing on the brain (which manifests in things like existential despair, thanatophobia, etc). So instead of thinking about “recovery”, I think about being good to myself today. And that’s that.

27. What are some ways your childhood differed from those of others around you? Do you think this difference was harmful or advantageous in the long run? >> Hm. I was raised as a “gifted child” with all the ridiculous bullshit that entailed. I was sheltered to an absurd degree for a modern child (like, I didn’t watch cartoons and didn’t know what actual video games [as opposed to computer games] were until I was almost an adult). I didn’t make my first friend until sixth grade, and I was so socially undeveloped that I ended up losing her before the year was out. I didn’t know how to talk to people, I was sullen and withdrawn, I lived in my headspace and didn’t bother with the actual world around me. My curiosity as a child was severely blunted by alienation (I guess I’m making up for that lack of curiosity now, huh). I was pretty obviously not a normal child, but no one could see that?? Or didn’t care?? As long as I got good grades and didn’t cut up in class, no one cared about my development, I guess. I think the nature of my childhood didn’t do me any favours, but I also think that I’ve done the best I could with what I had (which wasn’t much). I eventually had to teach myself socialisation by observation, for example, and I think I did a decent enough job. I can’t blame my parent and the adults around him for my stunted development forever. Now it’s my responsibility.

28. What is one thing you are really good at compared to most people? What about one thing you are really bad at compared to others? >> I really don’t know how to determine this. I think it’s too easy to judge oneself unfairly in comparison to other people, so I try not to do it on purpose, you dig.

29. Do you think people are “all good” or “all bad”? What would make someone qualify as “bad” or “good” to you, or do you simply not think in those terms? >> No, I don’t think that. I don’t even think of people in terms of “bad” or “good”, unless we’re literally playing a Fable game where you have an actual “good/evil” meter. Even then, I’ve spent most of my time in that fandom unpacking that stupid fucking spectrum and writing the characters with the nuance they deserve. So, you know. I’m pretty sick of good/evil or good/bad as a whole. People are people, and that’s that on that.

30. When was the last time you did something out in nature? Do you notice a dip in your mood when you don’t get enough of the Great Outdoors? >> I guess that’d be on the Fourth, when we went to Creekside Park to eat lunch. I... really don’t spend a whole lot of time outside anymore, and I think it’s directly related to how much I don’t like where I live. I’ve tried on many occasions to be more enthusiastic about something, anything, about Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I really fucking can’t. I can’t do it. And I’m tired of trying to make myself do it. So now I just don’t do shit. Which isn’t any better, I know. I’m just trying to make do, here.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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wanderingworldwarrior · 6 years

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Warrior’s Fic Recs

I’ve wanted to create a list of fic recs for a while now! I have these bookmarked on AO3, but there’s not really a system like that for Tumblr. So, here we are! I did “Draw the Squad” doodles for each of these, and they have nothing to do with the fics themselves, but they were super fun to make!

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Marvel:

“To Walk Together” by @shootingstarsojourner

Original “Draw the Squad” template by @mugges

“To Walk Together” is a Captain America/Reader fic that’s paired with my own series, “Of Different Emotions”! Expect a lot of fluff! Star is the queen of fluff. She’s really nice! Go talk to her!

Series Summary:

“You are a sojourner of the stars. You go from galaxy to galaxy, realm to realm, discovering the wonders of worlds everywhere.

In a life so big and full, how can one be so lonely? You’ve been running away from your feelings of hurt and loss after your recent relationship breakup. You welcome distraction.

But trouble has a thing for finding you, and suddenly you find yourself falling to Earth, where a certain, lonely Captain from Brooklyn finds you and gives you refuge in New York.

Steve Rogers is a man out of place and time and has been dealing with post-traumatic stress in his new modern-day setting. No friends, no motive, he’s just trying to get through the days. Now you’ve fallen right into his lap.

Neither of you expect the blossoming bonds stemming from meeting one another. Are you willing to walk together to mend from the wounds of loss, or will you runaway again?”

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“Power and Magic” by @sidrisa

Original “Draw the Squad” template by @mamafrankee

“Power and Magic” is a Loki/Reader fic that I cannot scream about enough. It motivated me to get back into fanfiction and inspired my first fic on AO3. I have immense respect for this author.

Series Summary:

“The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo.

This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it’s time for more men and more blood.

But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival.

It is too bad they don’t deserve it.

There is nothing to recommend him, Loki, Prince of Asgard. He is rude and cold and childish. You try to find some merit in him.

You find none.

Exactly none.

But maybe, after trial and tribulation,

You will.”

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“The Tower” by @littlemisssyreid

Original “Draw the Squad” template found at @submit-your-oc

“The Tower” is a Loki/Reader fic that I’m having a blast reading. The author is a wonderful person, and the story itself is an excellent mish-mash of fairy tales and takes place on Asgard. Give it a read!

Series Summary:

“After attempting to rule another realm, nobody in the courts of Asgard was opposed to Loki’s conviction. However, years later, in a turn of events that nobody is privy to, Odin wonders whether his youngest son was sentenced too harshly. Unbeknownst to anyone, Loki is moved to a new type of cell, with new terms of imprisonment too, in the hopes he will have a chance for redemption. However, as days become months and months become years, the world moves on without him in it. Will Loki really benefit as intended or has he simply been condemned to a new type of torture? The arrival of a stranger puts everything to the test…

Despite being overlooked in your hometown on a daily basis, your spirit is not easily broken - not, until one day when an incident on the road out of town leaves you broken and bruised. With nowhere else to turn, you find yourself at the doorstep of a man with no interest in saving anyone but himself…”

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“Liars in the Dark” by @padawantimelord

Original “Draw the Squad” template by @snuffysbox

“Liars in the Dark” is a Loki/Reader fic that I thoroughly enjoyed reading! The angst is strong with this one, you guys. Great Reader character and awesome writing style!

Series Summary:

“You don't like thinking about the accident. The one that spiraled you out of control, that shattered your normal high school life and turned you into a hermit working at your grandparent's farm. You don't talk about your problems. You pretend not to see what others can't see. And your grandfather doesn't say anything about the watery whiskey you've been diluting to hide how much you drink because the pills don't work.

You're pretty fucked up. And though, during your most desperate and sober moments, you think about how much you would love to go to college and learn science and astronomy more than anything. But then you notice the rippling fabric of time, or the gentle brushing of something outside your reality and you're back in the liquor cabinet sneaking booze from the bottle.Then an angel falls from the sky and changes everything. You patch his never healing wounds on his flesh, and he tries to touch the ever churning storm within you. Loki shows you how much better you can be, and in the process, how much better he can be as well.”

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“Hubris” by @seekerofvalhalla

Original “Draw the Squad” template by @croxovergoddess

“Hubris” is a Loki/Reader fic that I was so excited to find! It takes some inspiration from Mulan and has a lot of action and violence. Had me hooked from the first chapter!

Series Summary:

“Asgardian men and women normally fought battles side by side, so when the Allfather strips away your opportunity to seek your revenge, you disguise yourself as a man. Your pride prevents you from quitting, but how long can you keep your walls built up before someone sees through the cracks?”

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Miraculous:

“Once a Thief Always a Thief” by @saijspellhart

Original “Draw the Squad” template by @looneyfrechie

“Once a Thief Always a Thief” is a Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng fic that was suggested to me by @shootingstarsojourner! It was my introduction into the “Miraculous” fandom, and is the first non Reader-insert fic on this list! A totally awesome read with amazing art from the author!

Series Summary:

“Things were starting to look up for Marinette as museum curator. She had a prestigious new exhibit to run, and an ace team to help coordinate it. That is until she crosses paths with the internationally infamous cat burglar, aptly named Chat Noir. She wants to hate him, but this suave and charming thief has his eyes set on more than just her exhibit's priceless Bastet artifact.”

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I’ll be updating this with any other great fics I find, as well as some more dumb doodles to go with them.

Stay awesome!

Updated 4/23/18

#loki/reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers/reader #fic recs #littlemisssyreid #sidrisa #shootingstarsojourner #draw the squad #it's just a doodle folks #to walk together #the tower #power and magic #long post #I just drew the reader how I saw them in my head #in case you were wondering lol #marvel #miraculous ladybug #marichat

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as-be-low · 7 years

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I got tagged by @impishnature! Thank youuu! :D :D :D

Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they are working on. This can be anything!

Hmmm okay I have like FOLDERS UPON FOLDERS full of ideas for Gravity Falls alone that I’m gradually fleshing out, so I guess that can be considered “working on,” right?

1.) Currently typing up the first half of the next chapter for THCM! It’s hella long and I’m both excited about it and kicking myself over it. It’s super cute and there will be fluff, including:

The leprecorn

Ford cuddling babies

Bathtime feat. the leprecorn

I’m feeling a little bit stuck, because I know where I’ve planned for it to go since the beginning, and to plant the seeds for that, they’d have to be planted now, but I’m second guessing myself about it for some reason. IDK. I might be at an impasse, or I might just chug on ahead.

2.) Forensic Ford AU! This story feels like a crime mystery-type-thing, and I feel like I have to have COMPLETELY planned out, no winging it because of the nature of planting clues here and there to have to reference from. (…Does that even make sense?) So right now, I’m hammering out the clues our hopeless heroes have to work with. :B

I will say that Ford and Stan get into an argument and Stan storms out, ends up missing.

Ford would be so distraught and think it was his fault

A week or so later another body would turn up mutilated with the same build as stan

Ford would be inconsolable for like a month

He'd go back to work and be like "I have to analyze the body. I have to." And would like be ugly crying a little bit at one point and someone would try to pull him away and he'd fight them

He'd run out laughing a few hours later and they'd be like "okay he's lost it" and try to hold him down but he's just like "it's not him! It's a John Doe!" And grab fiddleford who was there as emotional support and like cup his face and fiddleford would fuckin faint because ford is still wearing gross ass dirty latex gloves

He'd have to calm down and prove it (dental records, a break on the bone that should be there but isn't, etc, plus decomposition denotes a time of death that doesn't line up with when stan went missing)

Also stan shows up pissed off eight days after that of his own accord. Ford punches him on sight and stan punches back and then spends the rest of the night grumbling about it.

he had gotten roughed up up a LOT and he had to break out AGAIN and then make it back to stupid assfuck Tennessee and then THIS was the hello he gets??

“Stan why didn't you just call”

It didn't seem reasonable at the time. I got kicked in the head a lot, okay? he parts his hair to show the large gash that may be getting infected. fiddleford all but passes out, the poor squeamish bastard. somebody probably says that as he leaves the room. “poor squeamish bastard.” stan is still pissed about being beaten and lowkey tortured only to break out and get punched in the face by his brother. his nose was broken and now it’s broken even worse. he has two fresh black eyes in the morning. ford feels bad for his “crime of passion” and stan just rolls his eyes like “next time just finish the job and get me with a nail bat, would ya? it’s more efficient.” “stanley, that isn’t funny.” “who said I was playin’, asshole?” that asswhooping really does a number on him, and mixed with the extra punches, they send him to the hospital, where they check over all of his other poorly-healing injuries (broken ribs, broken wrist, compound fractured foot (“and you WALKED here?” “what other choice did I have? Would you pick me up as a hitchhiker?”), bruised liver and lung, and untreated concussion.

Poor Stan.

3.) I’ve also got the plans for a sequel to He Himself sitting on the backburner! I’d intended for that to be a one-shot, but someone made a good point and it kinda just spiraled, and ultimately the Stans are dweebs who keep messing with time and concepts they have no business fiddling with by going back and back and back, and yeah. They’re getting sentenced to Globnar. Of course they are. Whether or not either of them want any of the possible outcomes to come to fruition is debatable.

4.) I got inspired by Coheed’s Domino the Destitute and now I have the bones for something that follows in the vein of that song. I don’t know exactly what’s gonna happen yet, but I do know that it’ll likely be called “While You Were Left with Nothing.” It might just devolve into a collection of songfics for a genre I’m pretty sure no one in this fandom even likes but that also sounds like a problem I’m not particularly concerned with. It is SUCH a Pines Twins Classic song, so if anyone knows it, please come gush with me over it pleasepleaseplease

5.) I’ve also got this REALLY, REALLY angsty idea for a story where a Portal Ford stumbles his way into a parallel Earth dimension and finds himself heading for Gravity Falls, just for the heck of it. He doesn’t like what he finds in the least.

6.) I also have this long, drawn-out file that’s a compilation of ideas for a collection of one-shots that focus on different ways the A Better World universe(s) could have gone. 99.999% of them are just SAD ENDINGS BECAUSE THAT’S HOW I OPERATE, but one in particular (which is of course the longest outline/ficlet to date) has the potential for a happy ending, if you’ll forgive the messy formatting (I write and keep these on my phone):

Another stan gets into a yelling match with his ford, which stops after he tells him to do the first worthwhile thing in his life. Stan snatches the journal and storms out at that. Ford stabilizes everything after a while, maybe two or three years, and reaches out to his brother again, asks him to come again. stan comes, gaunt and nervous looking, expecting another errand. is stunned when no request is made. is itching to leave after a short time, “before… before I, y’know…” “before you what?” “Before I can mess something else of yours up.” He makes good on his own suggestion, and bounces soon after. Ford calls him again, but is met with polite noncommittal responses towards ever coming back. It’s like he’s afraid of ford. maybe he read the journal. maybe he should be afraid of ford. his calls get less and less frequent, and their tone becomes more and more stilted. Ford doesn’t know what to do. He calls him again to let him know shermy was having grandkids, that he’d expressed that he wanted stan to be there. “he doesn’t mean that, ford. Nice gesture, though.” “stanley, he does want you there. don’t say that.” “I’m a stranger to his son. he doesn’t want some stranger there with him ’n his wife at the birth of his first kid. Ma ’n Pa’ll probably be there, too, ’n we know I’m not welcome there then.” he calls back to let him know the babies are twins. stan hangs up. Extra angst if Filbrick’s dead at this point and nobody told him. Ford’s calls go unanswered. after a few years of occasional, unanswered calls every few months, ford gives up. The kids go up for a summer visit. Mabel finds out Ford has a twin, digs through and finds the number and calls INCESSANTLY. Stan answers, but he’s not happy about it at all. Mabel works her magic and insists he comes to Oregon to meet her. They have a long talk about what went wrong. Stan finds himself surprised to be pouring his heart out to this stranger of a child, telling her how he messed up ford’s project and ruined his opportunity to get into a good school, and how he just made a big series of mistakes here and there down the years. He’s convinced Ford only talked to him or called him to be nice because he felt he was supposed to.

“I’m not anyone you wanna meet, kid.”

“And now?”

“what?”

“what do you do now?”

“taxi driver.”

“oooh!”

“Look kid, you probably shouldn’t be talking to me. I’m sure Ford doesn’t want you using his phone. Or talking to the likes of me. Aren’t you on summer break? shouldn’t you be outside or something? Aren’t you supposed to be playing outside?”

or better yet, ford’s like uhh kids how about a road trip? because they’re getting absolutely BORED and he wants to be a good summer guardian and let them have fun, I mean dipper’s happy to play DD&MD but mabel gets left out that way and none of her interests are anything Ford knows what to do with/about so she’s spending a lot of the summer knitting (Ford’s put strict stipulations on outdoors and w/e) so there’s not much she can really do?? she’s not allowed in the lab after a near-accident, though dipper still tags along. Ford notices the child growing listless and doesn’t know what to do about it, so by the point it’s reached a concerning high, he’s grasping at straws for ideas and some intern is like “my family always did road trips?” and he latches onto that. mabel’s scrapbook has turned remarkably dull, like she’s taking pictures of leaves and squirrels she sees on the porch and the trees and dipper’s pile of sweaty socks and everything is just so mundane but she’s trying really hard to make it sound exciting in the scrapbook and if ford ever finds it wow he’d feel so guilty

so they roadtrip and it’s hella awkward and since he’s doing this kinda for mabel even though she’s never expressed any desire to go on a road trip, he lets her kinda guide the itinerary? she picks wherever stan is living.

ford find mabel’s little cell phone or whatever and she’s been messaging stan and ford reads through it and is like “who is this G. S. with 9 heart eye emojis” and is ready to go kick some little punk’s ass but then he reads further and realizes it’s Stanley and he also seems to have no idea what she’s up to (and has said “kiddo, you can’t meet me. just cuz you know i’m your grunkle (ha! I like that name! Grunkle. it’s got a nice ring to it) doesn’t mean you gotta come visit. please don’t visit. I’m nobody you wanna see.” and she’s like okay fine I promise” though yeah that’s obviously a lie. he doesn’t know whether to confront her or not. obviously he should, but that opens the can of worms of why/how didn’t he even know where his brother was (stanley moved & got a new number and the last time ford tried to call the old number was disconnected) vs. how did SHE know “mabel, how did you find his number??” and “why won’t you let me meet my other grunkle?? HE’S SAD AND LONELY WHY DON’T YOU EVER VISIT HIM HE’S YOUR TWIN” etc

maybe mabel sent him a postcard right before they set off, so he’s texting her repeatedly like

“kid. kid, where are you? please don’t do anything stupid. please don’t be alone, I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt on account of the likes of me.”

and that’s as far as I got, but then yeah there’s gonna be a happy reunion of course.

7.) I also have thank you cards to write and mail and just regular post cards, and also pen pal letters that are like OVER A YEAR OVERDUE BECAUSE I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON WHY AM I LIKE THIS ALSO WHERE IS MY FANCY INK BOTTLE I JUST BOUGHT

8.) I’ve also got a little AU ficlet set after Weirdmageddon and Stan still has amnesia (Mabel’s scrapbook didn’t really work like they’d hoped.) Ford finds that he doesn’t have the heart to tell his brother the sad things about their lives so he just makes up happy, sweet little lies to fill Stan’s head with because he just can’t bring himself to hurt him and Stan doesn’t question it or think to wonder why after a certain point he’s no longer in any pictures.

Stan starts to remember his life via nightmares, which he just chalks up to being regular nightmares. He doesn’t want Ford to know he’s having them because they’ve always been such a happy, average family, right? It would be out of place for him to have…such awful, graphic nightmares. And it was bad enough that his brain was fuzzy and he couldn’t remember things so good, especially when Ford was so smart! 12 PhDs? Their family must’ve been so proud. He was so proud. It was bad enough Ford had gotten saddled with such a dumb…cousin? No, they were brothers. He couldn’t even remember he had a brother.

His nightmares get increasingly worse and at some point turn into flashbacks/night terrors and the most violent ones he relives send Ford into a panic. He didn’t know about THIS. Ford is wholly unprepared for firsthand experience of what Stan went through, and Stan is nearly mute about it all and refuses to talk because he’s ashamed of all the freaky dreams; Ford shouldn’t have to deal with any of this! Maybe he should just put him in a home, or something. He didn’t wanna hold him back, or anything. He’s not sure why Ford looks so heartbroken when he said that.

9.) This idea note’s just short and simple enough to stand on its own:

one-shot where Ford spends an evening demolishing the stan-o-war after the “incident.”

Call it “The Wind out of My Sails”

I imagine him having stolen a cigarette or something to watch the ship burn with.

10.) I’ve also got an idea for a sort of Southern Gothic AU where Mrs. McGucket is something of folk healer that may or may not dabble in the occult, which leads to all sorts of monster hunting shenanigans, with added kudzu action. Maybe the real monster was the friends we made along the way lol

...Hmm, that’s a lot and that’s super long, so I should probably stop right there while I’m ahead, haha!

I taaaaag, @themindofcc , @thefaceofhoe , @icefeels , @vermeerdear , @ancientouroboros , @femmeofthesouthernwild , and anyone else who’s jonesin’ to do this! (Tag me back! I’m always curious about what other folks are writing! :D)

#meeemz #writing #meta #forensic ford au #somewhat #among other things #clearly I am just a sad person wrapped in a comedic packaging #*sprays rosewater on self* begone THOughT

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danreblogsstuff · 7 years

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1,3,8,18,21,22,30,47,51,54

Ahh! So many! Yay! You’re the best. :D

1. At my computer desk. I have a nice little corner of the TV room where I can be secluded and write without anyone looking at my screen. It’s nice.

3. Oh my god, there are so many of these, lol. I think, probably, the little connecting bits that I haven’t figured out. Like, figuring out the B between points A and C. That always gives me so much trouble. It’s either that or the constant worry that nothing I’m writing has any emotional impact.

8. Does “snarky banter” count as a trope? If not, then probably “smaller, not conventionally attractive man finds love with someone he thinks is out of his league”. Bonus points if the other guy isn’t conventionally attractive either. I like writing love stories between people who aren’t perfect, because of course perfect people are going to find love, and “I’m so hot but I’m also a dateless loser” never comes off as remotely realistic to me, and the last thing I want to write about is two hot people who know they’re hot getting together. Talk about boring.

18. Not nearly what it should be, lol. Actually it’s different every time. Right now I kind of write out the rough draft then when that’s done I go back and reread and change what needs to be changed, but honestly I’m not very good at it. Unless there’s like literal months between when I finished and when I start revising I tend to have everything I write and that’s not really conducive to editing a book or a story. Also, when I do it this way I tend to forget shit I wrote at the beginning, because I’m incapable of writing anything short >_> But going back and rereading before I’m done has about a 50/50 chance of sending me into a “why am I so bad at writing?!!?” death spiral, so.

21. “Spencergripped Tim’s bicep and shuddered as he felt Tim's handslide over the back of his t-shirt, high at first, then lower andlower and lower...” Yeah, I’m attempting my first sex scene in like 5 years, lol.

22. Well I don’t do drafts, really. Rewriting is hell. But I do about 2-5 passthroughs before I submit it. Then, if it’s a book, it’ll get professionally edited later on and that’s another 3 or 4 passthroughs, and if it’s a fanfic I’ll end up reading it through a few times a year after it’s posted and finding things to edit.

30. Ohhh, this is hard. I don’t really have a favorite line? I mean, I have a few paragraphs and exchanges that I like, but I don’t really write “lines” you know? Like, I don’t really do many sentences that hit like “The Man in Black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed.” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” so I don’t think I could really pick one. Maybe the last line of Awakening Camelot? I don’t wanna post it though, since it might end up being a spoiler. Also, it makes no sense out of context. But probably that, because I think it’s an awesome closing line for the series.

47. Honestly it’s about half and half. When it’s a character, I’ll usually start with a line I want a character to say, then figure out the context for them saying it, then try to fit that into a plot. When it’s a plot, I’m usually writing something I’ve dreamed about. Fun fact, the whole opening chapter for Awakening Aidan came from a dream.

51. I’ll go with Bird’s Eye View because I was working on that today. “Tim Drake needs less caffeine and more chill. The sass is good, though.”

54. So hypocritical considering what I wrote for 18, but don’t be overly critical of yourself. Improving is great, recognizing mistakes you make is great, but not to the point where you can’t enjoy the process because you’re too worried about what people are gonna think of the final product. Talk about your writing with anyone you know who’s interested. I cannot even put into words how much it gets the creative juices flowing to bounce ideas off of people who care, it’s something I wish I could do more. Write something every day. Even if it’s just a headcanon to post on tumblr. If nothing else, it will get you used to taking ideas out of your head and putting them down in writing for other people to see and comment on. And, most importantly: WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO WRITE. Don’t try to write what you think an audience wants, or what’s popular in a fandom, or try to fit into the internet's rigid morality standards. You could start writing the most crowd pleasing thing ever, but if it’s not something you personally like or care about, then it will be soulless and eventually, if you keep doing it, it’ll sour writing for you all together. In a world where Twilight and 50 Shades of Gray can be bestsellers, trust me when I say that, no matter what you want to write, there will always be at least a small group of people out there who want to read it.

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snowdice · 4 years

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Gaps in His Files (Part 10) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

I feel as though I should make a statement in Logan’s defense before you read this. There is a thing called unreliable narration and... our narrator is spiraling.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

“I have to go to work today,” Patton said Friday morning. “I am trusting you enough to not attempt to go to school like yesterday if for no other reason then so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

Logan nodded and Patton didn’t think he’d gotten his point totally across yesterday, but he thought Logan would probably not do anything today since on Fridays he only had to attend two classes and not teach or meet one-on-one with anyone.

“Good,” Patton said, biting his lip. Logan was distracted with one of his personal files and wasn’t looking at him. He’d been quiet yesterday after Patton had dragged him back from the college. He’d stopped asking Patton questions about himself or really talking to Patton at all, instead choosing to stew in his ire in silence. He read the book Patton got him and was civil when he needed something from Patton or when Patton asked something out of him, but his discontent with Patton’s presence was written all over his face. ‘Maybe I don’t want what I built’ echoed in the silence between them. It really sucked to know that Logan could so easily learn to hate him. “Bye then. I’ll see you later.” He shut the door to the apartment behind him.

He drove to the hospital in a daze of emotional numbness and sat in his car in the parking lot, staring at the tall building for almost 15 minutes with a tight feeling in his stomach before finally forcing himself into the building.

He had been hoping that having something to keep his mind busy with would help him feel better, but it just seemed to make things worse. It made the gaping hole in his chest widen and widen until it threatened to consume all of him. When he went to check on a patient’s wound, he felt like he could throw up despite the fact that he was long past being grossed out by medical things. It just kept getting worse and worse as Patton worked mechanically through the morning. Talk to patients, smile at coworkers, take vitals. Don’t rest. Don’t feel. Don’t break. Break and someone dies.

“Patton,” a voice called as the lunch hour crept closer. Patton turned to see Remy rushing down the hallway towards him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have a shift,” Patton replied blankly. He tried to turn away from him because a friendly face was the most dangerous thing right now, but Remy grabbed his arm. “What do you want Remy?” Patton asked, refusing to look at him. There was a pause before he was tugged on and yanked into a hall closet.

Patton rounded on him once the door closed behind them, a bit of it leaking, just not in any way that would actually help. Instead, it came out in a way that would likely just make it worse when the guilt hit later. “What?” he snapped harshly.

Remy didn’t respond for a long moment, just leaning against the opposite wall of the closet with a frown on his face. Patton bristled under the scrutiny.

“I heard Bluebird got beamed by a memory gun.”

“Yes, I’m sure everyone knows that by now,” Patton replied scathingly.

Remy again didn’t react to the harshness in his tone. He just nodded. “Bet that’s hard for people who know him personally,” he said.

“What do you want?” Patton said and this time it came out more wobbly than harsh.

Remy sighed. “Patton go home.”

Patton shook his head and could feel pressure building up behind his eyes.

“Patton this is not the place for you today. I’ll tell Bev you’re sick. Just leave.”

“I…” Patton stuttered. “I can’t. I…” he started to shake, bursting at the seams. “I can’t,” he gasped, and he didn’t think he was talking about how he couldn’t leave work anymore. Remy leaned forward to tug him into a hug and Patton shattered like a window in a hurricane.

He could hear Remy saying things to him, but he couldn’t make out anything of the words except the soft sympathetic tone.

“A little girl fell out of the window,” he blurted out, unable to keep it in anymore, “and she was so tiny and so hurt and I had to cut into her with a knife so I could try to put her bones back together right and if I did anything wrong she might not ever be able to move right again. She could’ve died on the operating table and it would have been my fault. I shouldn’t have been the one to do it. Why did they pick me to do it? I’m not any good at this. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve just gotten lucky and one day someone isn’t going to wake up that should have and they’re all going to know how much of a fuck up I am. I can’t do anything right. I pretend and pretend to be good at things and nice and perfect but it’s all just an act and eventually everyone’s going to see it and they’ll all hate me. No one loves me and no one should love me and everyone who thinks they love me will eventually find out the truth and leave me because I can never be good enough no matter how hard I try.”

“Woah, hey, that’s not true Patton,” Remy said looking alarm. He was trying to wipe the tears off his face with his sleeve, but more just replaced them the next moment. “That’s so very not true. You’re not a screw up. You’re a great doctor and you’re not faking anything. So many people love you for you including me.”

Patton just shook his head. “You don’t know me,” he cried. “You don’t know me at all. The only person who I’ve ever even let really known me is Logan and I love him so much, but he doesn’t love me back, because I’m not good enough. And now he hates me.”

“No, no, Pat,” Remy said. “I know you’ve probably had a rough couple of days, but that man absolutely adores you. He could never hate you no matter what. He’s a dork who’s afraid of his feelings sometimes and he gets all pissy with strangers, but I know he doesn’t have it in him to hate you. No version of him ever could.”

Patton just laughed. “No. He doesn’t love me. Not really.”

“He does, babe. I promise he does.”

“I proposed to him,” Patton said. He managed to steady his voice, but tears were still streaming down his face. “He said no.”

Remy blinked and his mouth gaped open for a moment. “When…?”

Patton sniffled. “Two months ago.” It had been a soul draining, humiliating experience.

“How do you feel about marriage?” Patton had asked one day in bed after staying in Logan’s apartment for the third time that week. He had been thinking about it for a while and that day he’d blinked open his eyes to see Logan staring at him with the softest expression he’d ever seen on the man’s face and then Patton had been slowly and thoroughly kissed the rest of the way awake. It hadn’t even led to sex that morning, but Patton had thought he wanted to wake up like that every day forever.

“Marriage?” Logan had asked in response with a lilt to his tone that had made Patton swallow.

“Yeah,” he’d replied, “uh, specifically you marrying me.”

“Are you saying you want to marry me?”

“I… yes,” he’d admitted, but felt the need to backtrack, “but only if you want to.”

There had been a long pause and Patton had felt his heart shatter in it. “Give me some time?” he’d asked, but Patton had known that meant no. They had been dating for three years and he knew Logan had likely already made his decision about Patton long ago. He didn’t need more time. He was quick at making decision and he rarely went back on them. Patton had known him saying that meant Logan didn’t think Patton was good enough. That he hadn’t loved him enough to want to wake up next to him every morning. Patton had felt tears prickling at his eyes which wasn’t fair to him, so he’d turned away.

“Of course, sweetie,” he’d said as steadily as possible and that had been the end of the conversation.

“So yeah,” Patton continued in the present. “There’s something wrong with me and I… I don’t know what. If I did, I’d change it, but I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s just all of me. Maybe he’s too smart and can see through all of the acts and knows how horrible I really am inside.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Remy said and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “You are wonderful. I promise. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Want me to slap Logan for you? That might fix the problem.”

Patton chuckled darkly. “Which problem?” Remy grabbed his face and made him look him in the eyes.

“You need to go home,” he said firmly. “You need to take a bath and eat some ice cream and watch a sad movie so you can pretend you’re crying about that. Okay?”

Patton didn’t respond, just averted his eyes.

“Come on Pat,” Remy cajoled, “nurses orders.”

Patton smiled just a bit. “I’ll take the day off,” he conceded.

Remy frowned probably because he could tell that Patton was not going to follow the rest of his instructions because Patton was too rotted on the inside to listen to anyone’s advice.

He let Remy deal with telling people he’d be gone for the day and headed back to Logan’s apartment.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 11

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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a-non-sequitur · 7 years

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Rogue One: Second Viewing

- link to my other Rogue One blabberings -

Watched Rogue One for the second time today on the big screen. Here are some more thoughts since I’m not inundated by “HOLY SHIT” feelings from experiencing it the first time. There may be some repeat thoughts.

NB, as usual: have only seen the movie and read a small portion of its prequel Catalyst so far. I try to talk about individual characters themselves, but shipping thoughts concerning RebelCaptain (Jyn/Cassian) and SpiritAssassin (Chirrut/Baze) still occur.

Warning: THIS IS REALLY, REALLY LONG. Not exaggerating in any way.

Quick General Thoughts

I’d seen the movie a little more than a month ago and have swamped myself in fandom, so I thought I wouldn’t have Extreme Emotions from seeing it again. I even thought I’d be bored for some bits.

I was wrong.

It’s a beautiful movie, and I honestly liked every single performance by the actors and actresses. I thought they were all really good or amazing.

By far one of the most intense movies that I’ve seen in general, not just the Star Wars ‘verse.

Lah’mu

There’s a piece of symbolism in some Rogue One book material that talks about how the movie bookends the theme of “Jyn” and “home.” AKA: Jyn starts the movie by having a home, and Jyn ends the movie by rediscovering home. Figuratively, this is shown by Lah’mu with her parents (start) and the Scarif beach with Cassian (end) (or you could argue the entire Rogue One team becoming family, a la Baze’s “little sister”, as “home”).

However, now I can see there’s also a literal interpretation of this: Jyn’s Lah’mu home is next to a beach. And you remember where she dies? A BEACH.

If one of the Stormtroopers was taught even a little bit of forensic science, Jyn would have absolutely been found underneath that damn rock. They live on rich, loamy soil. Anyone heard of footprints or tracks? I guess Death Troopers are too busy learning how to kill people.

Lyra Erso continues to grow in my heart as a hero and wonderful human being, and I am sad and bitter that beyond one or two lines from Galen and Orson (tangentially for the latter), she is never discussed or mentioned post-Lah’mu. Read Catalyst; Lyra is a badass.

“You will never win.” = Erso Rebels, one for one.

Lyra/Galen4lyfe. They love each other so friggin much (again, read Catalyst for the one-two-three punch in the gut feels (even though I’ve only read a little)).

I wonder what sort of crops the Ersos grew.

Rings of Kafrene

I originally thought Cassian was very blank-faced about killing the informant and any guilt he felt wasn’t expressed except 100% internally or at a later time on his own. Nope, he definitely shows guilt/regret immediately after shooting the guy, even with Stormtroopers converging. Throughout the movie, in fact, he shows a LOT of guilty faces/body language. Not as perfect as a spy as I thought! (at least 100% of the time)

Wobani Prison

FN-2187 is a reference to Leia’s prison cell 2187. At Wobani, cell 4227 is mentioned. They don’t mean Jyn’s cell, but it finally explains to me why one of my favorite fics (Death Trooper One) uses the designation DT-4227. Tricky, tricky, tricky!

Yavin 4

Yooooo, Jyn is amazing at doing a non-reactive, “I won’t tell you shit” face.

Whatever you say about Draven’s duplicity and cutthroat tactics, Mothma’s democratic idealism is unsustainable bullshit. A lot of fics like to uphold her as this Kind Rebellion Paragon Leader vs Draven, but you know what? Saw had a point in separating from the rebellion. I don’t condone his “civilian deaths are unavoidable” tactics, but Mothma’s path is a fruitless endeavor, and she should have been completely aware of that after twenty years of Empire rule.

This is a passionate, immediate response after seeing the movie again. Maybe someone has some meta to calm me down/see Mothma’s side of the story.

Jedha

So many Asians on Jedha! <3333 (now all dead </3333 )

Small funny moment: the scene where Chirrut and Baze come to the rescue, there’s two little old Asian ladies sitting in the corners of the courtyard just chilling around.

I believe Cassian’s feelings for Jyn went from “unwanted charge” to “shit DEVELOPING FEELINGS” sometime between Jyn saving the little girl and Jyn beating the asses of Stormtroopers with her truncheons. I told you guys that Cassian has a Competency kink.

Jyn’s feelings, on the other hand, went from “jailer” to “friendly.” And I think that explains the level of betrayal she expresses to Cassian after Eadu; yeah, she’s pissed that he was planning to kill her father, but she was also pissed that he had lied to her. She had considered him a friend by the time they had arrived there, and she hadn’t had friends for a long time.

I think it says something about Jyn that, even if she is at most amused by K-2SO or at worst annoyed/indifferent to him, she still is the one who jumps in front of his body when Baze points a gun to him. She responds faster than Cassian, who (definitely) considers Kay his best friend. When Jyn is in a team, she is loyal. (I really, really like Jyn, okay.)

Bor Gullet (the tentacle creature) continues to be gross-looking, and even though I admire the subtle acting choices of Bodhi’s character arc by Riz Ahmed from “nervous defector to traumatized pilot to recovering person”, I do wish we got a better understanding of how damaging this creature (nonhuman sentient?) is. (Apparently the book does a good job?)

Again, I desperately desire more background on Saw’s spiral into severe paranoia. At one point did he start thinking that everyone was going to betray him? At one point did he find the Bor Gullet?

We know that the Empire hates non-humans, but do you know what I found really interesting? The Rebellion actually showcases only a few nonhumans. Do you know which group represents the most non-humans (besides local populations)? Saw’s Partisans.

There’s not supposed to be galactic racism in Star Wars (I don’t know about extended universe materials, so maybe (most likely) racism exists on individual planet cultures). Rather, it’s replaced by speciesism. And I find the fact that the Partisans are heavily made up of non-humans (and the Rebellion not) extremely interesting if you parallel it to American politics on race throughout the centuries. I’m simplifying the issue, but in fights for equality and justice, who are the people associated with violent protest and riots by society? Who often feel and are sidelined by mainstream movements?

Still curious at what point Saw separated from the Rebellion. I assume post-Lah’mu, just because Galen seems under the impression that Saw is still in contact with the Rebellion.

Saw says outright that Jyn was his best fighter. SO MANY RADICAL!JYN FEELINGS.

and this is why I can’t really support Cassian’s side of the argument after Eadu - Jyn had been involved in the Fight for a very long time. When she says at her interrogation that she “didn’t have the luxury of political opinions,” she has a good reason in saying that! She was never allowed to have a choice: she was born in a Separatist prison, raised by the Empire, ran away from an Empire, and then absorbed into a radical Rebellion cell. It isn’t until Saw abandons her that she makes a choice: the Empire and the Rebellion both hurt her deeply. These weren’t minor hits against her; they performed acts that damaged the core of her soul and transformed her personality. Why does she have any obligation to support either in any way?

Even if you think that abandoning the Fight was a very selfish thing to do, I think it would be incorrect to say that it was an unfounded decision on her part.

Galen mentioning Lyra (;_______;)

I loved all the performances, but Forest Whitaker’s is actually my favorite. Just, wow. (And Jyn’s heartbroken face when Saw refused to leave with her: :( I mean, considering his broken body, no way would he have been able to get out of the mountain, no less to the ship, and he absolutely knew that.)

The destruction of Jedha City was awe-inspiring, in the original etymology of the word (fear, terror). Alderaan’s destruction is sad, but it’s distant - a sphere blows up. The detail of Jedha City’s annihiliation... even on-the-ground videos of nuclear bomb testing and Hiroshima/Nagasaki don’t strike as much fear into my heart (please don’t attack me).

Baze’s FACE when the City is destroyed. It’s SO HEARTWRENCHING. Like, you can see his non-belief in the Force get even worse after the destruction.

Krennic’s “It’s beautiful” brought horrified shivers. I can’t find the tumblr post anymore, but the user talked about the importance of art in injustice (or something like that).

Eadu

All Cassian had to do was snipe Krennic while on that ledge instead of angsting over Erso, and the ending of Rogue One would probably have been less soul-destroying.

I do not understand how geography and the passage of time occurs in some of these scenes. Between Jyn being able to cross the valley and climb up that ladder in the period of Orson’s and Galen’s conversation, Cassian getting to Jyn after the platform is bombed, and Jyn and Cassian crossing back to the other side in no time at all, I assume Einstein’s relativity is involved.

I’m trying to decide whether K-2 revealing that Cassian’s rifle was in a sniper configuration was because (a) K-2 has been described as basically being a child and so he doesn’t even think about it, (b) K-2 didn’t know about Draven’s extra orders to Cassian, so he didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret, or (c) K-2 knows that Cassian would really, really regret assassinating Galen (moreso than anything else he did). My strongest option is (b).

We have to give Draven credit: he only sent the Alliance ships because he thought Cassian was probably dead and Galen still needed to be killed. As soon as he heard Rebels were on the platform, he tried to call off the squadron (I mean, if he had heard it was Jyn and not Cassian, he probably wouldn’t have cared, but still).

I knew beforehand that Chirrut and Baze were married, but holy shit are Chirrut and Baze married. Baze’s self-suffering and resigned sigh after the “I have you” quote!

Little detail I liked: Chirrut puffing air into his hand before shooting with the Bow of Death. Combination of “Gimme luck, Force!” and “Gotta warm up my hands before kicking ass.”

Chirrut is definitely Force-sensitive (I have Headcanons about his pre-movie arc), but there’s no way that Baze isn’t even a teeny-tiny little bit Force-sensitive, too. There’s no way a sharpshooter can be THAT accurate from THAT distance THAT accurately in EVERY battle (every single shot hits someone or some ship).

I’m impressed that the movie did not try to beautify death. Galen died in a super awkward position, and I love the realism of it (even if there was a lot less blood than there should have been).

By the end of the scene, Krennic visually confirms to me that the Galen/Krennic ship is actually a completely one-sided infatuation (seriously, read the book. Galen is laughably blase about the dude).

“You willl never win.” = Erso Rebels, two for two.

Lyra/Galen4lyfe

Some fandoms I can ship characters with multiple people.

Rogue One is not one of those fandoms.

Jyn had, like, a 2% chance of actually being alive when the platform was bombed, and Cassian still went after her. He’s got it SO BAD. Like, this is the dude who killed his informant ASAP and who K-2SO was certain enough about that he said “we’ll be leaving without you” re:Chirrut & Baze leaving the ship ten minutes ago in the movie.

Chirrut grabbing Jyn’s hand before the Argument gives me sad feels because it makes me wish that the Jyn+Chirrut+Baze adopted family vibes could have been explored more.

As I said earlier, I don’t think the claims Cassian made against Jyn in their argument had a lot of merit (and I think Jyn knows that, too). But Jyn definitely understands Cassian a lot better after he describes his past, and that’s why she doesn’t dislike/hate him by the time they arrive on Yavin 4. She’s definitely angry and betrayed about his actions/lies, but she now understands why he did them. And I think that’s when she really decided that he was a friend (+ probable realization that this was the second time he had come back for her).

And even though Cassian already feels guilty about almost assassinating Galen, I think his defensive justification took a serious, serious, serious blow not because of Jyn’s words (though that did have an affect), but from the Absolute Overwhelming Disapproval and Disappointment from all the humans on the ship.

Baze is actually really, really hilarious? His tired collapse against the ship’s closed landing platform post-Argument made me burst into inappropriate giggles.

Mustafar

Darth Vader is terrifying.

I wonder if they hired an actual amputee for the reveal of Vader in that cylinder? Or if it’s CGI.

I’ve never really understood the eye-rolls over his “don’t choke on your aspirations” pun. I thought it was a terrifying addition and very apropos . (Though, if you’re familiar with medical terminology, you’d probably get a giggle from it.)

Krennic gets more and more pathetic every scene.

Yavin 4

Now, I know I talked all about the POC-nonhuman parallels above, but I do want to applaud this movie for its POC representation. The Empire, of course, has always been White As White Can Be, but the modern decision to make the Rebels so racially diverse? And to specifically have the Council be so racially diverse? (look at it! I think only Mothma and one other human was white. The rest of the humans were nonwhite!) That was a calculated decision to comment on today’s political climate. Think about it: the leaders of the Rebellion were mainly POC. Yes, they unfortunately did not get as much screentime or lines as Mothma and Draven, but what a wonderful step still.

A council that can only make decisions based on unanimous agreement is a terrible idea with that many people.

Cassian showing up with an entire crew of people = moment Jyn DEFINITELY develops Feelings for him.

This gif is always necessary to post:

Cassian has a lot of sway/respect from the people he was able to recruit, but I’m 100% certain that he basically sang Jyn’s praises during the recruitment process. This is the reason they were so okay with her being the mission leader.

STILL ANNOYED ABOUT THE ZERO WOMEN IN THE ROGUE REBEL GROUP.

The trip to Yavin 4 to Scarif really, really highlights the fact that the entirety of the Rogue One family looks towards Jyn as their leader. Yeah, her speech to the group (”Saw always said carrying a stick...”) was, eh, pretty weak compared to Cassian’s (”Make ten men feel like a hundred!”) (Jyn’s not a great public speaker, ok?), but Cassian constantly defers to her. Speech time? You go first, Jyn. Is it time to blow up the mines? Tell me, Jyn. They ain’t co-leaders, and Cassian’s not a shadow leader. Jyn leads, Cassian is her right hand, and everyone else are her believers. (Remember that at Eadu, Chirrut outright states that Chirrut “follows her,” and I’m already forgetting the exact scenes, but I remember having the impression that Bodhi seemed to constantly look towards her (no surprise considering she’s related to Galen). And Baze’s “little sister”! (why no 500+ hours of these people being family. why.))

The side-eye Jyn gives Bodhi when he decides to call their group “Rogue” is still my favorite funniest moment.

Cassian and K-2SO are my favorite friendship in the crew, but I have to admit that K-2 and Bodhi would have definitely developed a pretty funny bromance if they had survived.

Possible RebelCaptain Kiss Moment 1: on the trip to Scarif

Scarif

Sidenote: this review is so friggin’ long, I’m already forgetting the things I want to say.

Seriously, why didn’t Cassian shoot Krennic on Eadu. WHYYYY

The grabber thing that picks out the data files? Reminds me of the claw game in arcades. I would have completely failed this mission purely because of that.

I didn’t realize this the first time, but Admiral Raddus had left even before the Alliance got news that Rogue One had landed. Raddus just up and went “EH FUCK THE COUNCIL LET’S DO THIS” and he had an ENTIRE NAVY follow him despite the very public refusal by the Council. Standing ovation for this dude.

FEMALE PILOTS!!! SO MANY FEMALE PILOTS!!!

Okay, it’s time for me to sing the praises of Bodhi Rook and Riz Ahmed:

Riz Ahmed deserves all the acting awards. Whitaker is still my fave RO performance, but Ahmed is second. It’s such a subtle transition but WOW.

On Jedha, we meet non-traumatized Bodhi. A little stammery, but he’s being pushed around by the Partisans and no one is listening to him. I’d stammer, too. He’s panicking re:plans, but there’s still steel in him though, a type of confidence.

Then we meet post-tortured Bodhi, and he’s a discombobulated, disjointed, confused mess of a human being. Within the prison cell to his escape outside the mountain, he shows someone whose reaction time is fifty times slower than a non-tortured human being. His dazed look and delayed movements before Cassian pulls him towards the ship is perfect.

Eadu: he’s a nervous wreck. He can’t stop stuttering, even when he’s trying to guide K-2 and Cassian to fly through the rainstorm. He can’t look people in the eye.

To Scarif: still nervous, but becoming more forward.

Scarif: When Cassian tells Bodhi to find a way to communicate beyond the shield: NO FUCKING STUTTER. HE ORDERS THOSE MEN AROUND AS IF HE’S BEEN ORDERING PEOPLE FOR YEARS. REMEMBER THAT HE’S A FUCKING CARGO PILOT. His voice is so firm, so direct, that none of the soldiers hesitate. When Bodhi makes the run to the shuttle with the cable, there’s a cut to a soldier watching him, and it’s after seeing Bodhi run that the soldier stands up again to fire at the Stormtroopers. I think this soldier is also the one that first decides to run to the master switch, too? (Not sure about that one.)

And Bodhi basically orders Admiral Raddus to do shit. An Admiral!

BODHI WILL SAVE HIS FRIENDS. HE WILL NOT DISAPPOINT HIS FRIENDS.

BODHI’S LAST WORDS ARE “THIS IS FOR YOU, GALEN.”

!!!! my heart

“THIS IS FOR YOU, GALEN.”

IF I WERE TO MULTISHIP A RO CHARACTER, IT’D BE GALEN/BODHI.

I just... I love Bodhi’s character arc so mUCh????11!!? And Riz Ahmed was amazing portraying it????

Melshi seems pretty damn cool. Too bad we didn’t hear more from him.

Baze looks SO BETRAYED when his cannon didn’t take down the AT-AT unit.

Baze and Chirrut at Chirrut’s death was so painful and heartbreaking to rewatch. I like to think that the only reason Chirrut didn’t cup Baze’s face in that moment was because he lost the strength to lift his arm higher and that’s why they just held hands. And the only reason Baze didn’t kiss Chirrut’s hand is because of movie industry homophobia :))))) Also, I realized that Chirrut was hoping/thinking Baze would survive because he says, “Look for me in the Force, and you’ll find me.” :(((

BAZE TURNING HIS GAZE BACK TO CHIRRUT’S BODY WHEN THE GRENADE LANDS BROKE ME EVEN MORE THAN HIS RECITAL OF CHIRRUT’S PRAYER. I could almost hear the “I’ll be with you soon, love,” voice-over.

MY HEART

“Climb! Climb!”

MY HEART

Possible RebelCaptain Kiss Moment No. 2: right before they jump onto the center tower.

Jyn and Cassian must have arms of steel, I’m just saying. If the claw thing didn’t trip me up, I’d fail the mission purely because I couldn’t climb more than one row.

Trying to figure out how many stories Cassian fell down. Fics keep saying really high numbers (like 8 or 12), but it didn’t seem like that? Though that just might be because we were watching it from a higher perspective. (I’m not implying Cassian wasn’t severely injured. I cringed every time he struck a beam. I was just wondering how long the fall was.)

If Cassian shooting Krennic on Eadu would have probably changed RO’s ending, do you want to know what would have completely changed the entire original trilogy? SOMEONE SHOOtinG THE FUCDKING SATELLITE DISH. HOW DID NO ONE HIT THAT EVEN BY ACCIDENT.

“You lose.” = completion of “You will never win.” = Erso Rebels, three for three.

So, since we’re nearing the end, I’d like to quickly talk about Descent/Climb (though Fall/Climb is a more catchy term, if less accurate).

If “abandonment/returning” was one of Jyn’s themes, “climb/descent” is another one.

She “falls” every time Krennic is near her: (1) Lah’mu: she descends the ladder into the hideout; (2) Eadu: she nearly falls off the platform after it’s bombed; (3) Scarif: not Jyn, but Cassian-Jyn are basically inseparable by now anyways: Cassian falls at the Citadel; (4) Scarif: Jyn falls when trying to get back to the transmission tower.

She climbs: (1) Lah’mu: towards Saw (unseen); (2): Eadu: to get to her father; (3) Scarif: to get the plans.

Ok, honestly I have no idea/don’t have the energy to figure out what this actually means, but Jyn went up and down too often for it to not have some sort of importance.

Speaking of themes: from Jyn’s perspective, the entire movie is basically a mirror of her life:

Home on Lah’mu.

Lyra abandons her.

Jyn sees Krennic. Lyra shoots him in the shoulder.

Lyra dies.

Galen “abandons” her.

Saw abandons her.

Jedha: Jyn reunites with Saw (and sees that she’s loved). [Cassian comes back for her x1]

Hologram/Eadu: Jyn reunites with her father (and see’s that she’s loved). [Cassian comes back for her x2]

Scarif: Jyn thinks Cassian is dead after his fall.

Jyn sees Krennic. Cassian shoots him in the shoulder.

Cassian comes back for her x3.

Home with Cassian/the beach.

Possible RebelCaptain Kiss Moment 3: Side of the head kiss after Cassian stops Jyn from murdering Krennic.

Possible RebelCaptain Kiss Moment 4: Elevator.

Possible RebelCaptain Kiss Moment 5: Beach.

Don’t know the proper term for it, but the quickly-gradual white-out of the screen as Jyn and Cassian are being burnt to a crisp is one of the most visually stunning moments in the film.

MY HEART.

Ships jumping out of hyperspace: cool.

Star Destroyer slamming into Star Destroyer and hitting that Ring Thing: cooler.

Star Destroyer jumping out of hyperspace and Rebel fleet crashing into it while trying to escape: coolest.

Another detail: the ship that had engaged the Star Destroyer and pushed it into the other one was a suicide run. I mean, I’m sure all the fleet knew that this mission was probably a suicide mission, but that ship in particular knew that what they were about to do was a kamikaze move. Serious bravery.

Darth Vader is fucking terrifying.

CGI Princess Leia would have been less uncanny valley if her nose and her eyes weren’t so far apart vertically.

So, the mission plans were on this big cassette thing. And then they were downloaded onto this tiny disc thing. Does the Alliance have better data storage equipment? Or is it like downloading the jpeg version of a CAD file? These are the important questions, people.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

movie is still amazing and emotionally traumatizing.

god knows how long i’ll be in this fandom. i’m guessing a long, long time. it will never leave my heart even if i visit another one.

every single rogue one family death made me tear up in the theater.

this is fucking long, jesus, i should be spending my time doing other things, like reading Catalyst.

- link to my other Rogue One blabberings -

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