Work Header

My American, Immortal, Psycho

Chapter Text

My name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. I live in the Slytherin Common Rooms at the top floor of the Hogwarts Castle in England. I’m 17 years old. I have long, ebony, black hair (that’s how I got my name). With purple streaks and red tips that reach my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid years, and a lot of people tell me that I look like Amy Lee (if you don’t know who she is, get the 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 thanks to a rigorous routine using an iBrite V3 Tooth Whitening Unit I use before bed and when I wake up. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch. I go to a magic school called Hogwarts where I’m in the seventh year. I’m 17. 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 lace from Dolce & Gabbana and a black leather miniskirt from Dundas with pink fishnets I bought from Isadora Paccini with black combat boots from Prada. I was wearing black lipstick from Marc Jacobs with white foundation from La Prairie along with black eyeliner from Le Metier de Beaute. My red eye shadow came from Pat McGrath. I was walking outside of Hogwarts, it was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me, so I put my middle finger up at them.

There is an idea of an Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. Some kind of ‘goffic abstraction’. But there is no real me. Only an entity. Something illusory. And though I can hide my suicidal gaze, and you can shake my cold, pale, hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably just as gothic, I simply am not there.

“Hey Ebony!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was Draco Malfoy. A Slytherin like myself, who looked just as unhappy to be alive as I was.

“What’s up Draco?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

Chapter Text

The next day I woke up in my bedroom. It was snowing and raining again. I opened the door of my coffin- a $1,499 Cherrytone Poplar Wood casket with a hot pink velvet interior and accompanying lace- and drank some blood from a Markham Stacking Decanter I had as part of the Marquis Collection from Waterford.

I got out of my coffin and took off my giant “Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge” MCR t-shirt which I'd used for pajamas that I'd bought from Hot Topic.

Instead, I put on a Versace strapless black leather dress from Luisviaroma with a concealed side hook and zip closure, then a pentagram necklace from Tiffany & Co to match. I also slipped into my Gucci black fishnet tights before I put on my Dolce & Gabbana black calfskin combat boots.

I put on four pairs of earrings in my pierced ears (Harry Winston, Cartier, Van Cleef Arpels, and Blvgari) then put my hair into a kind of messy bun.

My friend Willow (Raven, dis is u!) woke up and grinned at me. She flipped her long wasit-length raven black hair with pink streaks and opened her forest green eyes. Shut put on her Marilyn Manson shirt, which she also bought from the same Hot Topic I shopped at, but my clothing was a little nicer.

She put on a black Balenciaga mini skirt with the same matching Dolce fishnets I was wearing, and slipped into a pair of Dior-Diorette suede high heel boots. We put on our makeup (black lipstick from Louis Vuitton, white foundation from Clé de Peau Beauté, and black eyeliner from Estee Lauder).

“OMFG, I saw you talking to Draco Malfoy yesterday!” she said excitedly.

“Yeah? So?” I said, blushing.

“Do you like Draco?” she asked as we went out of the Slytherin common room and into the Great Hall.

“No I so fucking don't!” I shouted. “Yeah right!” she exclaimed. Just then, Draco walked up to me. He was wearing Converse shoes that looked a little below my price range, but he was so effing hot.


“Hi.” I replied flirtily.

“Guess what.” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, Good Charlotte are having a concert in Hogsmeade." 

This news elated me.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God!” I screamed. I love GC. They are my favorite band, besides MCR. I had last seen Good Charlotte perform at the Royal Albert Hall just a year ago where once critic from Square Mile magazine called it a "euphoric event for the audiophile to be serenaded and seduced by Joel Madden's eclectic sound that has tapped into the zeitgeist of the revolutionary pop-punk movement". It was a preppy comment, because Joel Madden was a hottie goth. 

“Well…. do you want to go with me?” he asked.

I gasped.