#emerald original

The words on the invitation stare up at you. They don’t move. You blink and they stay the same. The name printed is stark, clear against the backdrop of the creamy paper.

Stamped in metallic foil, like you’re somehow high class.

The envelope and invitation are both dyed a soft blue. You find yourself incongruously appreciative of that. Black would have been severe. Would have been overdone. Cliché. But the soft blue is a nice touch. The muted bronze of the lettering lends the whole thing an air of importance that you think is excessive. Considering the situation, though, it can probably pass.

Confusion begins to creep in, tangling its fingers in your mind and surpassing the numb surprise. There must be some mistake. Perhaps an error with the company that printed the card. A mix up with the names. You check the addresses again. You check the name spread across the card. They do not offer clarity.

They do not change.

What if… what if it isn’t a mistake?

What if… what if this is a threat?

A hand grasps your stomach and begins to twist. Your mind begins to race. What have you done? What have you done? What frying pan have you landed yourself in? Ice trails down your spine and your breathing quickens—but wait!

Forcing yourself to slow down — to breathe — you remind yourself not to panic. You always do this! You always jump to the worst conclusion!

This could be a prank.

Who do you know that could pull this off? That would put the effort into something like this? There’s always someone. There’s always...oh, well it has to be—

You jump as your phone rings, scattering your thoughts. You reach into your pocket and pull it out. The screen flashes a name and you grin, partly in relief. Yeah. It has to be—

You answer, setting the pale envelope down on the table with a laugh. All that for a prank. Maybe you shouldn’t mention it; see how they squirm. The anticipation must be unbearable.

After all, it’s not very often you get an invitation for your own funeral.

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Hey, so I had this idea while joking with my friend. I don't know if anyone is even interested in original fic from me. I certainly haven't written any in... Gods, probably since 2012.

But I figured I ought to share it.

I never do it because no matter how petty or spiteful I want to be, I’m not actually that person. But let me break something down for you.

As a creator, (or a photo set maker, or content provider, whatever) once you put something into the public forum, you immediately lose control of it. 

You no longer control any aspect of the way people interpret that work. How they view that content is unique to them, filtered through their own life experiences. If they see a romantic pairing between the characters involved, then that is what they see and that is their right to do so. Even as the creator, you do not have the right to tell them that their interpretation of that is wrong or incorrect because they are not viewing it through the same experiences that you are!

Your intentions no longer matter!

(With exceptions. Common sense and legalities apply, people. Don’t @ me. You know we’re talking about relationships and shit between characters here, not violence-inciting language or hate speech.)

The vast majority of the creative content I’ve run across on Tumblr is fanwork with is transformative at its very baseline in the first place. Which means that we all took a look at what “canon” was and the threw it out. What on earth makes you think that doesn’t apply to your own work? What makes you think that just because your work is already transformative doesn’t mean people can’t take your canon and throw it out?

People will tag a relationship if they see it, regardless of what you want.