#me: i should draw some of the other repl—

[ledenews]

Communication Is Key Once Streetscape Project Begins

Although an official start date has not been announced for the long-awaited streetscape in downtown Wheeling, the city manager advises business owners located along Main and Market streets to contact him when construction causes issues. The streetscape project, on the drawing board since 2015, went out for bid in late June, and those proposals were revealed earlier this week. Triton Construction out of St. Albans, W.Va., entered the low bid at $31.9 million, Swank Construction was next at $36 million, and Ohio-W.Va. Excavating was third with a bid of $37.2 million. The state’s projection was $30 million with the City of Wheeling contributing nearly $2 million. Whether or not officials with the state Division of Highways will approve one of the contractor’s bids has not been announced, and messages left for District 6 Engineer Tony Clark were not returned Tuesday or Wednesday. The streetscape proposal already was in development when Clark arrived at the District 6 office in 2016, and since then he has navigated a plethora of conversations with elected leaders from Wheeling and Charleston. “There’s no getting around the fact that it’s going to be tough for everyone once the project begins in downtown Wheeling and very difficult at times for our downtown business owners,” Herron said. “We will be communicating to those owners as often as possible so they know what to expect near their businesses, and hopefully we’ll be able to let them know the timing of the sidewalk demolitions because we do realize how important that information is to those owners. “Sure, everything is going to be great when the streetscape is completed, and everything looks great downtown, but the business owners who are there now are concerned, and I don’t blame them,” he added. “And if any of those owners has ideas on how to make it better for them, they should feel free to reach out to me so we can discuss their idea. If it makes it less painless, and it’s possible as far as the city is concerned, I’d love to discuss it now instead of later.”  The trees along Main and Market streets will be removed and replaced during the two-year project. Smooth Comes Last All most motorists want in downtown Wheeling are smooth roadways, and it is likely the majority of them do not realize at this time that the paving process will not take place for two years from now.  The curbs, ADA ramps, sidewalks, traffic signals, and stormwater sewer installation all must take place first. “And that’s fine at this point,” said Matt Welsch, owner of the Vagabond Kitchen on the corner of 12th and Market streets. “I know it was smart that the city did all of the underground projects before this project got started, but every time another hole was dug and orange barrels went up, our business declined because people just don’t want to deal with it. “We’ll do what we have to do just like we did during the pandemic and during all of the construction that’s taken place already, and we’ll do our best to let the people know what’s good to eat and where they should park during that time,” he said. “Let’s just hope it goes well and gets finished quickly.”  At some point, once the project is underway, the walkways on both the east and west sides of Main and Market streets will be removed and replaced, and that means the Vagabond Kitchen along with every other business will be without a front entrance for a short period of time. The timing for that construction, Herron said, will be shared with the appropriate owners. “We’re going to do everything possible in an effort to minimize the negative impact the streetscape project has on the businesses in downtown Wheeling. I know some of them had a hard time during all of the infrastructure projects we’ve done in preparation for the streetscape, but we’re going to examine what we can do better,” Herron explained. “But one warning I do have to give everyone, and that is that this streetscape does involve our sidewalks. The sidewalks will be removed and replaced, and that’s going to be a tough process. “I have been through major streetscapes before. This will be my third, in fact, and I can tell you that traffic will move through, but pedestrian traffic is going to be tough at times because of the sidewalks, but also because of the storage vaults that are underneath most of the sidewalks we have on Main and Market streets,” he said. “Part of the plan, though, is that the contractor will maintain access to all of the buildings. But yes, there is going to be some inconvenience.” The curbs, sidewalks, and ADA ramps will be replaced section by section. 10 Years Plus Two Decades Tunnels? Or vaults? Or both? That is one mystery the upcoming streetscape project may just finally solve for the city’s history buffs.  “What we ran across in the mid-1990s sure looked like tunnels,” said Rusty Jebbia, the retired director of Public Works for the City of Wheeling, about what he saw during the most recent streetscape in downtown Wheeling. “That was in 1995, and we had heard about the tunnels for a lot of years but didn’t know if it was true. Based on what I saw back then, all I can say is there was something. “Maybe this time, since it’s a more extensive project, they’ll find more evidence of what, but who knows? I guess time will tell,” he said in May. “Now, we have uncovered the storage vaults, too, so maybe that’s what we saw, but that was a long time ago now.” One thing is for sure, according to Herron, and that is the streetscape project will enhance the chance for future economic development between 10th and 16th streets.  “Once this project is complete, it’s going to help the businesses we already have in downtown Wheeling because the area is going to be much more attractive to everyone who goes there for whatever reason,” Herron said. “It will also help with the future of economic development in our downtown. We have promoted downtown living for several years, and right now we have the Doris on Main project that will feature more than 50 apartments once completed, and we have the ongoing renovation of the Wheeling-Pitt building that will offer more than 100 units when finished. “It’s about getting that critical mass into the downtown area, and once that takes place, I believe we’ll see more of the private sector getting involved with adding businesses,” the city manager added. “The businesses aren’t going to open until the people are in place. That’s the way it works, and this project is a big part of it.” Read the full article

[casukaga]

honestly some of the cutest shit i’ve drawn.

based on this reply:

🌟 Instagram | Twitter | Youtube 🌟

#me: i should draw some of the other repl— #people: yasha. but with cute animals. #me: ...........fuck u know my weakness #i’ll probably compile more of these in one post when i draw more (so far i’ve only done 3!) but i rlly wanna post this one now bc it’s #so dang cute #critical role #the mighty nein #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #fanart #digital art #my art #doodles #casu art #my shtuff #hi. petunia was the first name that came to mind when wanting to name one of the ducks but i also realized it’s fitting because petunia is a #flower and yasha loves flowers #🥺🥺

[thefanficmonster]

Oblivious

Valkyrae (Rae) x Reader (Gender Neutral) ft. Corpse Husband

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: In the most desperate of times, we may or may not be used to hearing the phrase ‘Beggers can’t be choosers’ which is exactly why Y/N’s found themself asking the most hopeless of cases when it comes to love and romance - Corpse, for help.

Requested by Xara. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this wonderful request you’ve sent me - I love writing for Rae (excuse my bi excitement, I’m just a HUGE simp) and I can’t thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to do so. Sorry it’s been two months since you requested this but here it finally is and I hope it makes up for the wait. Love, Vy ❤

“Corpse, I’m in desperate need for help.“ I don’t even bother with a friendly or even polite greeting. Being best friends for as long as we have, Corpse and I excluded the politeness that comes with phone calls a long time ago, especially when calling with an emergency. Though, let’s be honest, if I’m calling him on the phone and not on video chat like I usually do, it is an emergency.

“Given that you’re asking me, I can imagine how desperate you are.“ He has the audacity to laugh in response, causing me to roll my eyes. 

Now, don’t get the wrong idea - I love Corpse with all my heart. Him and I have been through A LOT together considering we know each other since we were teenagers. However, there are some instances in life when he simply doesn’t get me. Not that he doesn’t try to, he does and does so very hard, but he rarely succeeds. Trying is what matters, of course. Given that he is my only close friend, I can only ever turn to him with my problems though I try my best not to bother him too much, but when things get REALLY tough, I can’t help but go and vent to him. Luckily, he’s always been very understanding, but it may be because he feels like he owes me for all the times he has turned to me with his problems. I’ve tried to explain that he shouldn’t feel such a way, but that’s rather hypocritical of me cause I feel the same way.

Alright, enough digressing, back on track!

“Desperate doesn’t even begin to summarize how I feel.“ I sigh, plopping down on the couch in my living room, kicking my feet up on the coffee table as I cover my eyes with my hand. “Brutally miserable is, I think, the correct term to use here.“

I hear Corpse let out a quiet ‘oof’, one I think he hoped I wouldn’t hear. “And what led you to finally give in and ask for help, not that I can offer you much?”

I can’t help but snort at that, a snort that serves as a replacement to slapping myself across the face. “Rae texted me yesterday asking if I’d like to play Minecraft with her and I took THREE HOURS to respond! Not on purpose, I just couldn’t think of something good to say!” I know I sound like a whiney kid, but I think I’ve passed that threshold LONG ago. Of course, this whiney kid version of me only surfaces around Corpse and Corpse only. No one else is allowed to see me like this or that would legit be the end of any sort of pride I may have left in me.

“You mean you couldn’t choose between ‘Sure, I’d like that!’ and ‘Of course, I’d love to!’? Please say yes.“ Corpse already sounds disappointed and he hasn’t even heard the worst of it yet.

“No and sit tight, it gets worse. I...“

He cuts me off, “Wait, no, don’t say it. Let me guess - you turned her down? Keep in mind if you say yes I’m hanging up on you.”

I remain silent, pinching the bridge of me nose and cringing as hard as my facial muscles are willing to allow. I can’t say yes, not cause he’ll hang up but because admitting it makes it more real, and the more real it is the more depressed it’ll make me and I will go back to being a self-deprecating mess that refuses to be productive or properly functioning - aka ‘Whiney Kid Maximum’.

“I’m hanging up.“ Corpse says after waiting five seconds for my response that only comes in the form of dead silence which is more than enough of an answer in and of itself.

“No, please don’t!“ I squeak out despite my agony, “I’ll never break the cycle if you don’t help me, Corpse! I’m a hopeless case!“

“You’re a hopeless case with or without me, Y/N.“ He states, angering me ever so slightly. “Not only cause you really are, but because I have nothing useful to offer you. Not even a single advice. Even if I did, giving it to you would by hypocritical when considered how bad I am on this field myself. Hell, the very person you’re head over heels for is my personal matchmaker. If anything, you should be asking her how to swoon her...“ He pauses.

So does my brain.

For a second we’re both quiet, the silence on the line suggesting big plans are being developed - well, not on my end but still.

“Now there’s an idea...“ He mutters more to himself than to me.

“No!“ I shriek fearfully, “Please, if you love me even the tiniest bit, Corpse, don’t put me in a situation where I have to be alone with Rae! Not IRL not in a Discord call - not in ANYTHING. I close up and end up seeming unfriendly and rude because of my inability to talk to her like a normal human being! I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just can’t do it! So please don’t make me.“

I maybe can’t read minds, but hell if I can’t at least have a rough guess of what’s on my best friend’s mind - I know he’s already scheming and coming up with odd solutions to my problem - some of which will cause me more problems but let’s not even mention those. That being said, I need to prevent him from actually carrying out any of his absurd schemes, otherwise it’s game over for me.

“Hmm, ok fine, but only cause I wanna spare you your own awkwardness. Consider it charity.“ He sighs, the disappointment even more evident now.

I sigh too, but I do so in defeated relief. It’s bittersweet, to be honest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.“ He says sharply, “Don’t thank me. It’ll make me feel like I’m encouraging your behavior.“

Well, screw my feelings, I guess. I’m left on this battlefield alone, aren’t I?

Corpse hanging up the call confirms that I am, indeed, alone.

                                                             *  *  *

“Hello?“

“Are you still in bed, for the love of God? It’s noon!“ Not only did he have the audacity to wake me up with his phone call, but now he has the audacity to judge me on my sleeping habits as well. Some darn nerve he has.

“What do you want, Corpse?“ I grumble out, groggy and now grumpy too. The last thing I need is the only person I can turn to turning on me. Especially not now. I don’t need his or anybody else’s judgement of me or my life, it’ll hurt too much.

“I want to know how long you haven’t showered, Y/N.“ He barks back, causing me to roll my eyes. “And when’s the last time you actually ate something healthy and nutritious and not just greasy takeout?”

“I showered last night!“ I straighten up and frown, feeling offended despite his questions being justifiable. I think that’s exactly why I’m pissed off, to be honest - he knows me and my habits too well. “And you’re just being hypocritical on the eating part!“

“Whatever.“ He mutters, allowing me to feel at least a tiny sense of victory for having proven him wrong, “Get your ass up and come play Minecraft with me, you need to be cheered up asap.“ He continues, much to my dismay. “And don’t even think about saying ‘no’. If you do, just remember, I have your address and a strong will to kick your ass into shape.“

“Into shape? We’re going to the gym or something?“ I’m honestly confused and intrigued now. Maybe the gym isn’t such a bad idea, I’m sure I could become really good friends with the punching bag.

Corpse sighs exasperatedly in a way I can basically hear him roll his eyes as well, “Not that kind of shape, Y/N. Just get on Discord, seriously, I’m worried about you.“ 

That sentence strikes a nerve. Something about that genuine concern in his voice reminds me that I still need to move on from focusing so strongly on just my failures, no matter how big or small, and keep pushing forward, if not for myself then for the people who care about me. For Corpse especially, seeing as how he’s sort of been my babysitter ever since my feelings towards Rae started to consume me whole and suffocate me. I don’t know how or when it happened, in fact I can best describe it as the Titanic: I was doing ok and then instead of hitting an iceberg the iceberg of feelings hit me and I started sinking. Corpse was there to offer me a hand to help me keep at least my head above the surface. He can’t pull me out of the water but he’s not willing to let go either. I’m afraid holding on like that will tire him out to the point of letting go of me completely, but I’m afraid of sinking too. You see my dilemma here, no?

“Ok, give me twenty minutes.“

I would have probably continued sleeping or just chilled on social media, refusing to get out of bed for at least another hour, but the debt I feel towards Corpse is stronger than the desire to be a slob so I motivate myself with every power my fragile mind can fish out of the void and push the covers off me, shivering at the drastic change in temperature around my body now that I’m exposed to the rather cool air in my room, my pajamas hopeless at providing me with any warmth.

Twenty minutes later sharp, I’m seated at my desk, in front of my computer with my headphones on, taking one last encouraging breath before entering the call where Corpse is waiting for me.

“Yo.“ I greet him half-heartedly, drawing invisible abstract patterns on my desk with my finger as if I’m avoiding eye contact with him IRL.

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of punctuality at least.“ He chuckles, sounding a lot more pleasant and a lot more like my friend Corpse and less like sergeant Corpse Husband who was speaking with me on the phone earlier.

“Very funny.“ I murmur in my now common brooding manner, “Anyway, enough about me, how are you doing? Anything interesting happen since we last spoke?“

“You mean in the past ten hours? No, nothing interesting apart from that I managed to catch a few z’s.“ He replies as I join the Minecraft server, managing to get a smile out of me.

“Hey, that’s nice to hear! Good for you, Corpsie.“ I say, honestly proud and happy for him.

“Yeah, and just so you’re not calling me hypocritical on the topic of eating, I’m currently cooking myself lunch.“ He points out, now just straight up peacocking, “On that note, I got a pot on the stove so you’ll have to excuse me for a sec.“

“Please go. Don’t set your apartment on fire the first time you cook” I snicker, leaning back in my chair and fetch my phone to kill the time while he’s gone to tend to whatever attempt at a meal he has prepping in his kitchen. I feel bad for his stomach, and his kitchen, already.

“Corpse? Hi!“

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no - tell me that was an auditory hallucination and I didn’t actually hear that just now! TELL ME!

“Rae?“ I blurt out, almost falling backwards out of my chair, eyes wide, jaw hanging slightly.

Just then I get a text from Corpse:

Consider me dead and carry the convo. I know you’ve got this, Y/N

Oh that prick is gonna get it!

“Y/N? Hi! Sorry, Corpse didn’t mention you’d be playing with us, but it’s so nice to be hearing from you! It feels like it’s been forever.“ Rae replies, cheery and enthusiastic as ever, just like the absolute sweetheart she is.

With Corpse absent from his position, without his metaphorical hand holding mine, I’m metaphorically sinking and drowning. Maybe the drowning part isn’t so metaphorical after all, considering I actually am drowning in all the thoughts produced by my mind at the moment. A mind that’s going completely haywire, might I add.

“Hehe, well, funny thing, he didn’t tell me you’d be playing with us either.“ I chuckle anxiously, already breaking out in a nervous sweat. I solemnly promise to kill Corpse first chance I get, that way he’ll at least be dead for real.

“He set us up, huh? What’s his game, where even is he?“ Rae asks, properly confused as she should be.

All on-point questions, hun. And I can’t answer any of them logically.

“Um, you know, he’s off doing...something.“ And there go my conversational skills out the window, I hope they send me a postcard one day.

“Whatever, enough about Mr. Ominous. Tell me, what’s been keeping you busy?“ Oh crap, this is the question I’ve been fearing. Mostly cause I’m not prepared for it. “Actually no, let me rephrase: Why have you been avoiding me recently?“

‘Oh crap’ squared. Tripled.

“Whaaat? Avoiding you? Where’d you get that idea?“ I’m aware of my high pitched voice, but it’s not like I can do much to tone it down. Every part of me is in critical panic mode and rationality has accompanied my aforementioned conversational skills out the window.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Ignoring my texts, leaving me on ‘Seen’ and then declining my offer just to accept the same one coming from Corpse - can’t really blame me for finding it shady.“ She replies, her words making me wince and hide my face in the palms of my hands as though it’ll shield me from Rae’s brutal honesty and forthrightness. 

“I’ve been...bad at replying to everyone lately, nothing personal, I swear.“ Yeah, that sounded convincing, good gosh-darn job, Y/N!

“Why’s that?“ Something about her tone suggest she knows I’m lying and is just humoring me and my agony. I don’t know if to thank her for it or wish she’d just rip off the band-aid and confront me head-on. In that case I’d have only one of two options: freeze up or spill my guts. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse. “I thought you’d reach out to me, given you’ve found yourself in a pickle.”

I frown, confused and wary like I’m walking on thin ice over a pool of sharks, “Pickle? What pickle?“

“Corpse mentioned you needed dating advice.“ She replies simply as though it should’ve been obvious and as if it’s the most casual, regular and normal thing. Little does she know...

“Um, yeah, I guess you can call it that.“ I murmur sheepishly, my cheeks reddening.

“Who’s the lucky girl?“ She asks, the excitement now replacing the previous suspicion she was fronting, making me nervous as hell.

My heart skips a beat, “How’d you know I’m crushing on a girl?“

“Uh...“ She stumbles over her words, pausing to collect her thoughts and formulate a response, “Corpse told me!“ When the reply finally arrives it’s as high pitched as mine was earlier, suggesting something ain’t right.

I stay quiet, my mind and heart racing which is quicker. My leg is bouncing, my fingers are tapping the keyboard rhythmically as I rack my brain, pushing it to put the pieces of this enigmatic puzzle together, connect the dots.

When it finally does, I’m left with a horrific end-result, a realization that makes me go pale as a ghost, “He told you who said girl is too, didn’t he?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I keep the tone low so she doesn’t notice how shaky it is.

It takes her a few seconds to reply, but when she does I kinda wish she hadn’t, “Maybe...”

My first instinct is to excuse myself from the call, pack all my kitchen knives and drive to Corpse’s house but with my limbs having lost any and all feeling in them that is practically impossible. So, I settle for my second instinct which is hiding my face in the palms of my hands as though they can shield me from the immense embarrassment Corpse has set me up for.

“Listen...“ I start, not sure where I wanna go with this, “You don’t have to say anything, I get the hint. No need to bother with a gentle reje-“

“I like you too, Y/N!“ Rae cuts off my rambling with a melodic laugh, “I’m sorry, but you can be very oblivious sometimes, and I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine for a bit. Sorry if I freaked you out.“ Judging by her tone, she’s not sorry at all. In fact, she’s one step away from bursting out into laughter.

“Trust me, ‘freaked out’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.“ I sigh, exasperatedly, sinking into my chair alike a deflated balloon. “You and Corpse are gonna pay for that heart attack you led me to the brink of!”

This time, she doesn’t hold back, letting out the laughter she’s been holding back this whole time, “I don’t know how Corpse will do that, but could I pay my dues with a brunch on Friday?”

My eyebrows shoot up, “Miss Valkyrae, is this you asking me out on a date?“ I ask teasingly - aka with more confidence than I feel.

Please say ‘yes’. Please say ‘yes’. Please say ‘yes’.

“I don’t know, what do you think, Y/N?“ She asks, tone just as teasing as mine.

“Hey, I’m not as oblivious as you claim I am!“ I argue light-heartedly, “Does 2PM work for you?“

“Any time works for me.“ Rae replies, a smile blatantly evident in her voice. A smile that unleashes a flock of butterflies in my stomach.

And just like that, I have a date with the girl I’ve had a crush on for the longest time. It happened so fast it’s practically a blurred part in my mind, but one thing I’m sure will be crystal-clearly imbedded in my mind forever is that brunch on Friday. Just then, I get yet another text from Mr. Schemer himself.

That wasn’t so hard now, was it?

Some nerve he has, I swear to God.

#valkyrae #valkyrae x y/n #valky #valkyrae fanfic #valkyrae x reader #rae #rae x reader #rae x y/n #valkyrae fanfiction #rae fic #rae fanfic #rae fanfiction #valkyrae imagine #corpse husband #corpse #fic #fan #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #requests open #request #x reader #reader

[love-bean]

Spectacular - Part 2

good morning/afternoon/evening! here is part 2 because i am anxious about getting it out there. note: i don’t own the bridgerton characters. the only ones i own are the ones i made up. so without further ado!

wk: 1734

-o-o-o-o-o-

Anastasia spent the next weeks in her mourning period, and intended to continue to do so until one year had passed, but her brothers had other plans.

“Anastasia,” Andrew said as they sat in the drawing room one afternoon.

“Yes, brother?” she replied, not glancing up from her book.

“Do you plan to attend this season with us?”

She furrowed her eyebrows and squared her face toward him. “Why would I?”

“You should get out of the house,” Arthur suggested. “Socialize a bit.”

“I have socialized. I see Eloise Bridgerton every week,” she pointed out.

“You will have to see other people eventually,” Augustus said, joining his brothers in their argument with their sister.

“I do not wish to see anyone else at the present.”

“You will have to find another husband,” Alexander said, tone firm and final. “It is customary for a widow to remarry.”

“I intended to mourn my husband a little longer,” she snapped, twisting the ring on her right hand. “Out of respect.”

“You need to-”

“Alexander, stop telling me what I need-”

“Children, please,” their father interrupted. “I thought you were adults, not toddlers.”

“My apologies, Papa,” Anastasia said sweetly. “I just do not feel as though my brothers need to be telling me what to do anymore.”

“I agree. That is my job,” Lord Mackenzie jested. “But I do think there is some truth in what your brothers are saying. While I admire your respect and mourning for your late husband, I do think you will drive yourself to madness if you do not attend the social events of the summer.”

“Papa,” she sighed.

“Just a few. You do not need to attend all of them and you certainly do not need to make a second debut.”

Immediately after the orders, she made an excuse of needing air and walked quickly toward the Bridgerton residence with no one in mind apart from her dearest friend.

“Lady Weston, er, Miss Mackenzie,” one of the staff members said in shock as she stormed through the front door.

“Hello, sir,” she greeted. “Where might Eloise be?”

“I am not entirely sure at the present. Would you like me to summon her?” he offered.

“Please do so,” she replied. “I shall wait for her in the drawing room.”

Anastasia walked through the familiar house and into the drawing room, its only occupant being the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Anastasia,” Benedict grinned, standing immediately. “What have we done to be blessed with your presence this afternoon?”

“I am very troubled and I wish to speak with Eloise,” she said, wringing her hands. “She always seems to bring me rest.”

“Hard to believe Eloise brings anybody rest,” he quipped, returning to his chair. “What troubles you, tulip?”

“I wish you would not call me that,” she muttered, sitting across from him.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” he quoted, smug.

“Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy,” she shot back.

“Do not change the subject,” he said. “What ails you?”

She cast her eyes at her hands, folded in her lap. “As I am sure you have heard, my husband has recently passed away.”

Benedict sat straighter. “Ana, I-”

“Please,” she interrupted gently. “I do not wish to cry in front of you.”

He nodded, allowing her to continue.

“My father and brothers believe that I should attend the social events this season, though I intended to continue my mourning period.”

He hummed, deep in thought. If Anastasia began attending balls again, he would be able to sweep her off her feet. But that also meant there would be other suitors attempting to do the same…

“Well, if you attend, that does not mean you will be ready to marry again,” he said. “I do not think anyone shall entertain that idea so soon after your late husband’s passing.”

“I just-”

“Anastasia!”

A familiar, shrill voice interrupted the conversation as Eloise all but sprinted toward her friend.

“Hello, El,” Anastasia sighed as she hugged the small girl.

“I apologize for leaving you to wait with my brother,” Eloise said, glaring slightly at Benedict. “I know he cannot always be of the most help during a trying time.”

As Benedict began to protest, Anastasia laughed.

“It is fine, Eloise,” she said, glancing at the man. “He was much help.”

“Well,” Eloise huffed. “Shall we go for a walk?”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“Please try to enjoy yourself tonight,” Alexander muttered as he walked with his father and siblings into the large ballroom.

“If I must,” Anastasia replied. “But if one man asks me to dance, I will make a hasty exit.”

“No man will ask you to dance,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes slightly. “We have been tasked with protecting you from the vultures.”

And like vultures, various men of status began approaching the Mackenzies as soon as Lord Mackenzie made his way toward the food. While her brothers did as they said they would, Anastasia could not help but feel uncomfortable under the gaze of everyone in attendance.

Finally, two familiar siblings herded themselves in the direction of the Mackenzies.

“Bridgertons,” Andrew greeted, giving Colin a hearty slap on the back.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Benedict said grinning at the girl before him. “Ana.”

“Benedict,” she replied, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. “What have I said about that nickname?”

“I believe I do not recall,” he feigned.

“Perhaps I shall remind you,” she said, gritting her teeth slightly. “Please refrain from calling me that.”

“Would you prefer something else, then?” he asked. “Perhaps tulip?”

“Benedict-”

“Anastasia,” Alexander whispered in her ear. “People are watching.”

She straightened her posture and painted a graceful smile upon her lips. “I do believe you gentlemen have come with the intention of finding a young lady to court. Please, do not allow me to hinder your plans.”

Slipping from her brother’s arm, Anastasia made her way to get a drink of lemonade without meeting anyone’s eyes. Her plan to remain unnoticed at the edge of the ballroom worked, but only for a short time. She never even got her drink.

“Miss Mackenzie, you do look ravishing tonight.”

Lifting her gaze, Anastasia was met with the sight of Lord James Benson.

“Lord Benson,” she said, bowing gracefully.

“I see you have finally made your return to London. We have missed you so,” he said, grinning charmingly.

“I would not have returned so soon had I not suffered the loss of my husband,” she reminded him.

“Of course,” he said. “Well, regardless of the circumstance, I think I can speak for all of London when I say we are glad for your return.”

“Thank you, Lord Benson.”

“Shall we dance?”

The color drained from her face. “Oh, erm, well-”

“Here you are, Miss.”

Suddenly, Benedict appeared with two glasses on lemonade. He handed one to his friend before turning toward the lord.

“Benson,” he greeted. “How are you this fine evening?”

“I am well. I was about to ask Miss Mackenzie for a dance,” the man replied, glancing at Anastasia.

“Ana,” Benedict feigned a hurt gasp. “Do not tell me you have forgotten to allow me your first dance of the season?”

Catching on, she nodded. “I did not forget.”

“I did not know the two of you were so… close,” Lord Benson said, glancing between the two.

“Ana and I have known each other for nearly ten years,” Benedict lied. “Our families are very close.”

“Right,” Lord Benson muttered. “Well, erm, Miss Mackenzie, if you find yourself in need of a partner, you know where to find me.”

He glanced one last time at Benedict before stalking off to find a debutante that would stroke his ego.

“Can you believe him?” Anastasia scoffed, sipping her second glass of lemonade.

“You would be dancing with him right now if I hadn’t come to your rescue,” he muttered.

She snorted quietly. “I hardly needed you to rescue me. I was about to politely reject him, but you did not give me the chance.”

“Ana, I know you,” he laughed. “You would have politely declined, ever the lady, and when he asked again, you would let him dance with you. At least this way, he has the idea that I actually mean something to you.”

She stared at him, taken aback. “You’re one of my dearest, closest friends, Ben.”

His heart would have shattered if he had not been distracted by the use of a new nickname.

“Ben?” he questioned. “So I do mean something to you.”

“Of course you do.”

Their silence hung in the air before Benedict took the glass from Anastasia’s hand and set it on a table with his own.

“Come,” he said, offering his hand. “I believe you promised me a dance.”

“Benedict, you hate dancing,” she laughed.

“I will make an exception for you.”

She rolled her eyes and allowed him to escort her to the dance floor. They fell into position not a moment before the band began to play a new song. Benedict spun her around the floor, lifting her in time and forcing a quiet squeal to escape her mouth.

“You are quite the dancer, Mr. Bridgerton,” she teased as the music stopped.

He bowed, looking up at her through his eyelashes. “Would you expect anything less? I am supposed to be wooing young ladies.”

“And you would if you actually danced with anyone but me,” she quipped as she slipped her arm in his.

“Perhaps it is you I was attempting to woo.”

She tensed slightly, trying not to read into his words. “Well, had you been a suitor of mine, you would have succeeded.”

“Why should that determine my success?” he asked.

She sighed. “Ben, I am not looking for another husband quite yet. You of all people know that.”

“I do,” he agreed. “And when you are ready, I intend to court you properly.”

His admission made her heart race.

“We should not be having this conversation in public,” she mumbled as they walked toward her brothers.

“I agree,” he said, untangling their arms.

“Benedict, what is it that you speak of?” Alexander asked.

“Do I have your permission, friend, to call on your sister tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.

“If she allows it,” Alexander replied, glancing at his sister.

Anastasia nodded. “If you must, Ben.”

“Then I shall see you tomorrow, Ana.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

there is it folks! again, very roughly edited. i was feeling squirrely about it so i wanted to get another part up for y’all since the prologue didn’t really give you much. please let me know what you think!

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fic #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #jo writes #jo speaks #jo tries really hard

[theworldofmycreations]

Shredder’s Little Light Chapter 2

Aurora sat quietly with her knees on the floor coloring in the coloring book she got from the grocery store on the coffee table, her crayons from the faulty cardboard crayon box while singing along to a song playing on her little kiddy radio that Tiger Claw had found in the junkyard while scouring around and slaving over her father.

 It had been over a week since Aurora had settled into the church and already she made this church feel like home to her, even without her mother.

 In the morning, around 8 am, she would be woken up by Tiger Claw and treated to either a homemade breakfast or takeout breakfast from the nearest fast food restaurant by Xever, Bradford, or Baxter.

 After breakfast, Tiger Claw would help her get bathed, cleaned, and dressed for the day. Once bath time was over, Aurora was free to do whatever she pleased, which was mostly playing with some of her toys or watching cartoons on the TV whilst Shredder’s henchmen we’re taking orders and going on patrols until lunch came around.

 When lunch time came and went, Aurora had "quiet time" for an hour or two where she could either quote on quote read a book, or color, or take a little nap, or watch her shows on the TV until dinner was prepared or given to her via takeout.

 After her bath and brushing her teeth, Aurora would sneak down to the dungeon to chat or have a bit of playtime with Karai before she crept up to her room to go to bed before Tiger Claw could even reach the door of her room to bid her goodnight or read her a quick story before she went off to sleep.

 Sometimes, her routine would switch up a bit and instead of being in the lair for most of the day, Tiger Claw would take her out to the playground to burn off some energy, get some ice cream to cool off with the horrendous weather they've been having, or sneak to the community pool after hours to splash in the refreshing water.

 This was the case during the hours of the day; Aurora went to the park for the whole day and now she was coloring a couple of hours before bedtime.

 Suddenly, a shadow loomed over Aurora while she was coloring.

 The little one looked up from her coloring book and turned off the radio.

 The Shredder was standing over the coffee table with a blank expression on his face. However, what was different about the Shredder was that he was without his helmet and Aurora could easily see the giant burn marks on his face.

 Aurora put down the red crayon she was using and held up her coloring book to show her daddy the page she was coloring in. It was of a cartoon lion and zebra walking around in a jungle scenery.

 Aurora held up the coloring book and showed the page she was coloring to the Shredder.

 Shredder only stared at her and the coloring page.

 Aurora saw the look on Shredder's face and her smile turned into a frown and she lowered the coloring book, putting it back on it's spot on the coffee table and bent her head down in fear of her father.

 Shredder then turned away and walked down the hall.

 Now, she became curious.

 Where was his helmet?

 He never walked around with it on.

 Aurora put down her crayon and quietly followed her father and peeked in the throne room from behind one of the doors.

 In the throne room was not only her father and the Foot Bots, but there was Baxter, Xever, Bradford, and Tiger Claw standing before her father as he stood at the steps near his throne.

 “...find my helmet,” Shredder demanded, his growling tone demanding respect, but earning intimidation and fear. “Until it is returned to me, you will do nothing else. Nothing!” 

 “Uh, Master Shredder,” Xever spoke up hesitantly.

 “Can't you just get another helm-“ He wasn’t able to finish. The Shredder’s fist made a striking impact to the fish mutant’s skull, and he was thrown back a good way. 

 Aurora let out a small gasp when Xever got hit. 

 She wanted to go up to her father and at least get some attention from him by telling him off on how wrong it was to hurt Xever and fix Xever's injury, but she was to scared to do so. 

 The clunking footsteps of the Shredder’s armor approached Xever, and the Foot leader loomed over him.

 Her father began to tell the story of how Shredder’s helmet came to be. Aurora listened with attentive ears as if she understood but really she didn’t. 

 The Shredder looked to his soldiers. “I am sworn to protect it with my life. You will find it, and you will bring it to me.” The blades on his forearm swung out and he shoved them into Xever’s face. The mutant tilted his head to the side as the blades got uncomfortably close to his scaly skin. “Understand?” Shredder demanded.

 “Uh, Yes, Master,” Xever stammered his reply.

 The Shredder pulled back his blade to point at his followers. “Xever, you go with the fly. Tiger Claw, go with Bradford.” His soldiers bowed in obedience to their master. He turned away, walking to his throne. He stopped to give one final warning, “Do not fail me. I promise you, the consequences will be dire.”

 Aurora shrunk her head down a bit as the soldiers, Xever, Stockman, and Bradford left the throne room to prepare themselves to hunt for the helmet. 

 She backed up to leave to go back to her coloring until she bumped into a leg. 

 Aurora looked up and there stood Tiger Claw, his yellow eye glowing in the slight darkness of the hallway. The little one turned to face the giant tiger. 

 "Tigger," Aurora asked, "Wha's going on? Whewe's my daddy's hewmet?"

 "Apparently someone has stolen it from under our noses," Tiger Claw explained, "a man named Anton Zeck who claims himself to be a master thief according to the buisness card he left behind."

 "A fief?" Aurora asked,  "but why wowld he wanna steal daddy's hewmet?"

 "Probably to earn money or want power." Tiger Claw replied.

 "You can eawn monies by deawing?" Aurora asked.

 "Yes, but I would not advise you do so," Tiger Claw told Aurora, placing a paw on her shoulder, "Stealing is hate crime and you do not want to grow up to become a criminal do you?"

 "No siwee!" Aurora said, folding her hands behind her back earning a chuckle out of Tiger Claw.

 "Good," Tiger Claw said, "I'll be back within a few hours. We're all going out to find your father's helmet."

 "Ooh! Ooh! Can I come wif you an doggy?" Aurora begged, almost jumping up and down.

 "No Aurora, it's late at night and you need to start getting ready for bed soon," the giant tiger replied.

 Aurora frowned.

 Tiger Claw then added, "But, how about tomorrow I'll take you out to that aquarium that you've been begging to go to for the past week."

 The aquarium?!

 Aurora loved the aquarium! Even though she's never been to one… but she has looked at pictures of the aquarium in books and seen them on TV all the time and it looked super cool to her. All the fish and other creatures swimming around without a care.

 "OK Tigger!" Aurora said, "I be goowd!"

 "I know you will." Tiger Claw said before getting up and ruffling her hair.

 He then left the lair and headed for the door.

-----

"Dere are dowfins dere too?!"

 "In most aquariums, yeah."

 "Woah! Yowr lucky Kawai! Ife never been to an aquareeam before!"

 "Trust me Aura, you don't know what you're missing."

 Aurora sat on the floor in front of Karai's cell, wearing her new Bambi pajamas Tiger Claw had ordered from Walmart.

 Since she was alone with the exception of the Shredder, she had to skip her bath and head straight to brushing her teeth and putting on her clothing for the night before she ran down to the dungeon to talk with Karai.

 Aurora, or better known by her newly anointed nickname "Aura" by Karai as of a week ago, was talking to Karai about the promise Tiger Claw had made about taking her to the aquarium the following day if she behaved and got to bed on time. Karai smiled and then began to tell her about her experience in the aquarium she had when she was around Aurora's age and Aurora couldn't believe what she was she was hearing.

 "Oh, I awmos forgot!"

 Aurora got up from her spot and handed Karai a drawing she did.

 Karai smiled at the gift that her little sister gave her, "Aw Aura, it's a nice.. uh, what is it?"

 "It's da wainbow fish!" Aurora said, smiling proudly, "Tigger read me the 'dory befowe I went to bed yesderday an I dwew this fow you!"

 "It's beautiful Aura, thank you." Karai smiled.

 Aurora smiled but frowned a little.

 "Aura, what's wrong?" Karai asked.

 "… I showed daddy the colowing page I was dowing an he didn' say anyfing to me.." Aurora sighed, "I jus wan him to like me.."

 Karai frowned at the sight of her sister. She didn’t like it when Aurora was upset. She held her hand and rubbed it gently.

 "…Hey, don't get upset about it. Dad was just worried about his prized helmet being missing. Like I said, he's selfish like that." Karai explained. "He likes you… in his own unique way."

 Aurora understood and rub her eye a bit, it was getting late and it would soon be her bedtime.

 "You should be getting back up there, the others should be coming back any minute and it's almost your bedtime."

 "Kay," Aurora yawned, "An when I go to da aquareeam tomowwow, I's gowna tell you all abowt it."

 Karai smirked and replied, "I'd like that. Night Aura."

 "Nigh-Nigh Kawai.." Aurora said in between a yawn.

 She slowly walked up to her bedroom which had since been cleaned out and made to look like an actual bedroom, climbed into her bed, and drifted off to sleep clutching Barley close to her heart, dreaming away of colorful fish, dolphins flipping above the waves, dancing sea lions, and sharks with pointy teeth swimming around in giant fish tanks.

 Aurora smiled in her sleep as she dreamed that she was within all the fun, swimming on the back of a dolphin, holding on tight for a bumpy ride.

----

A giant paw gently shook Aurora's shoulder, causing the little one to stretch and yawn.

 "Sleep well Aurora?" Tiger Claw asked as he helped her sit up on her bed.

 "Mm-hmm.." Aurora replied sleepily, rubbing her eye, "I dweamed dat I was swimming wif all da fishies an dowfins too. Awe we gowing to da aquareeam today?"

 "Yes Aurora," Tiger Claw replied, "Just you and me…. after breakfast. Now come, your waffles are on the table and I do not want them to get cold."

 Aurora leapt out of bed and walked beside Tiger Claw down the hall to the kitchen as she talked on and on about her wonderful aquarium dreams.

#tmnt2012 #oc #fanfiction

[starfast]

Cross the Kingdom- Chapter 2

“The King’s Party”

Word Count: 5046

Read on Wattpad: Link

More about this project: Intro Post | Other Info

Prince Kit had been eagerly anticipating the night of his father’s birthday for months now. In fact, he could say with complete certainty that he was more excited than his father was. The party hadn’t been his father’s idea, but rather the idea of some of his father’s closest advisors. They had talked him into it by saying that it would be a great opportunity for some publicity, but if Kit’s father had his way, then they wouldn’t be having a party at all. These kinds of celebrations were often called for, but seldom did his father seem to actually enjoy them.

Kit had noticed his father growing steadily more anxious as his birthday drew nearer and nearer. By the time the morning of the party came, Kit had barely seen his father at all, though this hardly came as a surprise to him. It was typical behaviour from the king, but that hadn’t stopped the castle staff from relentlessly fussing over him anyways. Kit didn’t see why the staff had only decided to check in with his father now when he’d been openly dreading the party for weeks. In any case, Kit was just glad to have a day where he didn’t have to worry about all his regular duties as the crown prince. For the most part, at least. Kit had been to enough events to know that there was no such thing as taking a break from his duties. He had a big reputation to uphold, and he’d never want to be the one to slip up and put his entire family to shame. Still, he was determined to enjoy the party as much as he could. Someone had to since his father seemed to have prematurely decided that he would not be having a good time. Kit figured he would take that upon himself, and enjoy the party as much as possible before he went back to his regular daily life. The castle staff had worked tirelessly as they prepared for the night. It would be a shame to see their efforts go unappreciated. At the very least, Kit owed it to Katrina to be a good host.

It was only a few months ago that Kit’s parents had told him that he was to marry Katrina. Kit didn’t really love the idea of an arranged marriage but it was something that he knew was inevitable, so he’d never tried to find a way to get out of it. Surely, it couldn’t be so bad. After all, his parents had an arranged marriage and they got along just fine. The fact that he was to marry Katrina made the whole thing less intimidating. It hadn’t even been all that surprising to him when his parents finally revealed to him that he was to marry her. They were already somewhat close, which in the eyes of his father, made Katrina an ideal bride for Kit.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, Kit,” his father had told him, “I need someone who won’t try to run away or hurt you if something were to happen.” In the context of the conversation, Kit knew that the “something” his father was referring to was Kit’s powers. His father always talked about his powers in hushed tones as if he were constantly worried about someone overhearing him. Even though they had been alone at the time, his father still felt it necessary not to directly mention his powers.

His father had wrapped up the news with, “But with all that said, I still think that Katrina is a wonderful and competent young woman who will make a great queen.”

The party had already been going for several hours by the time the dancing began. Kit had attended several balls, but this time he had secretly been dreading it. His father had mentioned to him the night before that tonight would be different since it would be the first time he would be dancing with Katrina as his future wife.

“You’ll be expected to dance with her, Kit,” his father said the night before, “You two will be representing the future of Toltova tomorrow, so I do hope that things go smoothly for you.

“Of course they will,” Kit had replied confidently, even though his father’s words had cast some doubt into him. It wouldn’t even be the first time that he would have to dance with Katrina. Still, he was somewhat intimidated by having such high expectations placed on him.

He had mentioned this to his father, who replied with, “Well, I suggest you get used to it, Kit.”

Now, his big moment was finally drawing nearer. His parents stepped out onto the marble tiles of the ballroom and the quartet of musicians began playing a slow and steady waltz. Kit couldn’t help but smile as he watched alongside many other guests as his parents led the dance. His father had accidentally let it slip to him once that he didn’t particularly care for ballroom dancing, but Kit would have never picked up on that from watching him. Both his mother and his father looked perfectly elegant as they glided effortlessly across the dancefloor.

As the King and Queen made their way towards where Kit stood next to Katrina, Kit locked eyes with his father. It had been unintentional, but his father had used it as a window of opportunity. The King nodded very slightly towards the empty dance floor as he moved past Kit, telling him that it was time for some other people join in.

Kit turned to Katrina, holding out his white gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”

She smiled, gently taking a hold of his hand. “Of course.” With that, they made their way out on the dance floor.

Once they were out on the dance floor, it was as if everyone else in the room simply disappeared. He barely aware of the other dancers or any other staff and fellow party goers alike who happened to be watching. He had blocked them out almost completely, focussing solely on Katrina, who looked absolutely stunning tonight in her emerald gown and her blonde hair done up in an elaborate braided bun.

Kit continued to lead Katrina across the ballroom floor, one light and elegant step at a time. It had really been no different from the last time they had danced together. The extra pressure that had been put on him by his father the night before had completely dissipated.

“That was wonderful,” Kit said softly as the first song came to a close, “You’re an incredible dancer, you know.”

“As are you,” Katrina responded.

Kit smiled, but before he could form a proper response, the musicians began the next song. He placed his hand on her shoulder and they began to dance once again. They carried on waltzing alongside other couples, occasionally exchanging a few words as they went.

After another three dances, the pair mutually decided to take a small break. Kit led her away from the dance floor and out to the castle gardens. He was grateful to be wearing a long sleeved coat on such a chilly night. Even with his jacket, he could still feel the cold biting through his clothing. He looked at Katrina, her dress sleeves only coming to her elbow.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Are you sure? We could go somewhere else if you want.”

“No that’s ok, but thank you.” Katrina looked up at the night sky and added, “It’s a lovely night tonight.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Kit replied. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the fall, the sun had been shining all day. Now that it had set, the sky had filled with millions of stars twinkling against the dark sky. Saying that it was a lovely night was almost an understatement.

They walked along the garden path, with neatly manicured hedges surrounding them on either side. During the summer, there were flowers of almost every colour imaginable. Now that the summer was over there weren’t any flowers left. Instead, they were replaced by the colourful autumn leaves that ranged from a deep red to vibrant yellow and every shade in between.

Kit finally stopped next to the ornate balustrade, which marked the end of the upper gardens. There were two small staircases that led down to the lower gardens. In between them was a water feature-- a three tiered man made waterfall decorated with intricate carvings and sculptures. Kit stood there for a moment, studying the detail in the nearest sculpture of an eagle with its wings outstretched-- the symbol of the Marwing house. He had seen the sculpture countless times before, but he had never taken the time to appreciate the sculptor’s impeccable attention to detail. Kit wondered how long it had taken to carve each individual feather, or the impossibly sharp talons.

“I hope you’re having a good time tonight,” Kit said quickly. It wasn’t really how he wanted to start a conversation, but he had spent too much time admiring the sculptures and he figured he should say something.

“I am,” Katrina replied.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, “You know, I was a bit nervous for tonight.”

“Really,” Katrina said, “Why? It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

Kit shrugged. “My father was just making such a big deal about everything,” he explained, “He told me that we would be representing the future of this kingdom tonight, and people would be seeing us as the future King and Queen, probably for the first time. He just didn’t want us to make fools of ourselves, I suppose.” He smiled, then quickly added, “Not that I think we would have, but I felt like I could have done without that little speech.”

Katrina laughed. “He’s an interesting man, your father.”

Kit nodded. Interesting was one way to put it. In Galtia, most people showed a lot of respect towards the monarchy and tended to sing their praises, no matter what. King Matthew was no exception to that, but beyond Galtia Kit knew that opinions were fairly divided. Even within the castle, Kit had caught the staff questioning the King’s actions behind his back on more than one occasion.

“He certainly is,” Kit agreed, “Although, I think…” his voice trailed off as he noticed someone walking out across the garden path towards them. As the figure drew nearer, Kit recognized that was his Uncle Alexander. “What on earth is he doing here?” Kit murmured to no one in particular.

“Good evening, Kit,” His uncle said pleasantly when he approached him.

“Good evening, Uncle,” Kit replied with the slightest edge of uncertainty in his voice, “Can I help you with something?” Technically, Alexander was allowed to be here, though Kit had always known his uncle to be more frivolous than his father. Alexander certainly enjoyed the luxurious palace lifestyle that he lived, and it was at large events like the King’s party where he seemed to thrive. Which was why it was strange to Kit that he wasn’t back in the palace enjoying the celebration.

“I apologize for interrupting,” Alexander said, “But I was wondering if I could speak to you for just a moment?”

Kit frowned. “Can it not wait?”

“I won’t be long,” Alexander said, “There’s just something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Kit let out an exasperated sigh. “This really isn’t a good time. Please, whatever it is, can we discuss it later?”

“Just come with me Kit,” Alexander demanded, “We won’t be long.”

Kit gave Katrina an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m not sure what this is about.” He turned to his Uncle and said, “I’m giving you sixty seconds. After that, you get out of here and I’ll let my father know about this, because I can already tell that he doesn’t.”

“Fine,” Alexander said, “Sixty seconds.”

Kit rolled his eyes as he followed his uncle away from the fountain. Alexander led him towards a large cedar bush which was far enough away that Katrina would be out of earshot. The party was still going on inside, so it was unlikely that anyone other than Katrina would know that they were even there. But they’d only be sixty seconds, hopefully even less.

“Since you haven’t given me a lot of time,” Alexander said, “I’m just going to cut to the chase. I know about your powers.”

Kit tried to keep his expression neutral, but the words immediately made him feel sick to his stomach. Of all the people to find out, it had to be Alexander. He tugged at the button on the cuff of his sleeve, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said, feigning confusion, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Yes you do,” Alexander replied, “I’m not stupid Kit. I know about your headaches.”

“Then you know that they’re only headaches,” Kit said, shrugging. “I’m sorry,” he said as he tried to walk away, “But I think you may be--”

Alexander grabbed him and pointed a knife at Kit’s throat. Kit could feel the cold metal tip poking into his skin, not enough to draw blood but enough to make the threat very clear.

“I’ve seen you when you think you’re alone,” Alexander said through a clenched jaw, “Making things move without even touching them. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean.”

“I--I don’t,” Kit whimpered, “Please, let me go!”

“I’ll make you an offer,” Alexander said, “I want your crown, Kit.”

“Are you insane?” Kit exclaimed, “I can’t just give that to you!”

“You could if we staged a little accident.”

“Never. Besides, what good would it be to you? My father would still be King.” Kit folded his arms across his chest. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about your father,” Alexander said wryly, “I’ll deal with him later. But I’ll need you out of the way first.”

“You want to kill us,” Kit shouted in disbelief. Although, it really wasn’t all that surprising. The rivalry between Matthew and Alexander went back to when the two were still children. It was almost more surprising that Alexander hadn’t tried to pull this kind of stunt earlier.

“No, not exactly,” Alexander said, “I thought I might give you the option of faking your own death and starting a new life somewhere else under a new identity.”

Kit gave a slight shake of his head. Even if he did want to entertain the idea, it would never work. He was the crown prince of Toltova. People would recognize him, regardless of who he said he was. And he could never leave his family. The thought of his parents mourning his apparent death while he was actually alive and well was unbearable. “I would never,” he declared.

“Well,” Alexander said, “I guess we’ll just have to start telling people about your little secret.”

“You’re going to blackmail me?” Kit gasped.

“I wouldn’t call it that per se,” Alexander said coolly.

“Then what would you call it?”

“You could say that I’m just coercing you into making a decision.”

“With a knife,” Kit remarked. He couldn’t wait for his father to hear about this. Mostly because he knew that having Alexander locked up would solve a good majority of his father’s problems. Prior to now, his father lacked the means to justify it. “I can’t just lock him up for petty name calling,” he would say. In the meantime, his father tried to remain civil with Alexander, often going out of his way to deliberately avoid him. Still, Alexander seemed to know exactly what to say or do to anger his brother. His father always just sort of took it, and rarely showed any sort of reaction which was exactly the opposite of what Alexander wanted, and probably why he continued to test the King’s patience. He just wanted the reaction, and only once had he actually gotten one.

“I’ll give you one last chance to change your mind, Kit,” Alexander said, “So what’s it going to be?”

Kit hesitated. If he told everyone about his powers, then he lost the right to keep that a secret. Both of his parents had mentioned to him in the past that it may not be such a bad thing to go public with his powers. It would make him the first member of the royal family to openly have powers since the Patrol disbanded. His mother had powers as well-- the ability to speak with animals. Much like Kit, she had opted to keep her powers a secret from all but a select few. Toltova wasn’t safe yet for people with powers, despite the King’s best efforts. While things seemed to be changing for the better, neither Kit nor his mother felt like it was safe enough for them to be open about their powers with the general public.

Yet, Kit could not leave his entire life behind just because Alexander told him to.

Kit drew in a shaky breath. “I...I’ll tell her.”

Alexander flashed a crooked smile at him. “Good,” he said, lowering the knife. He shoved Kit forward, then poked the knife at his back. “Go on now,” he urged, “And don’t even think about trying to run.”

Kit could feel the colour drain from his face as Alexander urged him to walk forward. He led Kit back to the fountain, where Katrina stood waiting. She had her back facing them, looking out towards the lower gardens, but turned around when she heard Kit and Alexander’s footsteps coming up behind her.

“Oh, Kit,” She said, “You’re back! I was beginning to….” Her voice trailed off and her face fell when she saw that Alexander was still with him. A very fair reaction, Kit thought.

“Kit has something he wants to tell you,” Alexander said, still poking the knife at his back.

“Uh, actually, I-I uh, I don’t want to tell you this,” Kit stammered, “But um, I guess you would have found out eventually, so…” his voice dropped to a low mumble. “I have powers.”

“Louder,” Alexander urged, poking the knife into the back of his neck.

“I said I have powers.”

Kit could see Katrina’s mouth open slightly, as if she were about to say something but changed her mind. The air fell silent, for what felt like an eternity.

“Katrina, say something, please,” Kit whispered.

“I… it’s fine, Kit,” She said finally. She looked just past him, at Alexander. “I think… I think maybe I should go,” she said. Neither Kit nor Alexander tried to stop her as she hurried past them. She looked back only once before she headed back to the castle.

“Well, are you happy?” Kit exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“No,” Alexander drawled, still holding the knife at Kit’s lower back, “But maybe once we tell a few more people…”

“No,” Kit said firmly, “I’m not doing this!” He couldn’t afford to let Alexander think that he could push him around like this. When he inherited the throne, he didn’t want every decision would make to be the product of blackmail. “When my father hears about this, he'll--” He felt a pinprick in the back of his neck. “Ow! What are you doing?”

“It’s just a sedative,” Alexander said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it. It won’t take long to wear off, don’t worry.”

Kit could start to feel the effects almost immediately. He felt like the world was spinning around him, and he was seeing double of everything. His eyelids started to feel heavy, like he just needed to close his eyes and rest for a little while. He blinked several times, trying to fight off the effects of the sedation.

“Don’t fight it, Kit,” Alexander said, “Why don’t you lie down for a moment?”

“No… I’m good,” he slurred, “I’m.. fine.” He staggered forwards trying to get away from his uncle. After taking only a couple of clumsy steps forward, Kit’s legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor. He tried to stay awake, hoping that someone would find him sooner rather than later.

It only took a few short seconds before he succumbed to the effects of the medication. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

***

Kit woke up in a dark room with no windows. He felt a cold, hard ground beneath him but that didn’t offer any clue to his surroundings. He could barely see his hands when he held them to his face. It took him a moment to remember the events that had brought him to this moment. Even when they all came flooding back, the whole thing just didn’t feel real.

Kit struggled to sit up, still feeling a little bit nauseous. “Hello,” He called out in a raspy voice.

Nothing.

Kit was able to piece together that he was likely in a prison cell somewhere. He had no idea how much time had passed since the incident in the gardens. There was a good chance that he was still in Galtia, but it was still equally likely that he was literally anywhere else.

Kit wasn’t sure how long he had been conscious when he heard footsteps. “Hello?” He shouted, “Is someone there?”

“Kit?”

Kit sat up a little straighter, upon hearing his father’s voice. Soon, his father appeared outside the door and was peering down at him through the bars of the cell. He held a lantern, illuminating the tiny cell.

“He’s in here,” His father said.

“Oh thank goodness,” He heard his mother say. In a few seconds she appeared next to his father. “Kit? Kit, are you ok?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned.

“Kit, listen to me,” his father said in a quiet yet urgent tone, “You need to get out of here. We don’t have the key but--”

“You what?!”

His father sighed. “It’s been stolen,” He explained, “I think I have a pretty good guess as to who took it but--”

“Uncle Alexander,” Kit said.

“Yes, naturally,” his father said, “We’re not sure where he went, but he we’re going to make sure he doesn’t get away with this. There’s people searching for him as we speak.” He lowered his voice then added, “But in the meantime, you’re going to have to let yourself out.”

“Is anyone else here?” Kit whispered.

“Alden’s here,” His father said in the same low tone. Alden was the Royal healer, and the only one outside of Kit’s immediate family who knew about his powers. “But other then that it’s just your mother and I,” His father said, “You’re safe.”

“Then why are you talking like that?”

“Just open the door.”

Unlocking doors was something that he could do with ease. It wasn’t something that he did all that often, but it was a useful skill to have. Kit focussed on the lock as he manipulated the mechanism until he heard a soft click as the lock popped open.

It may have been the effects of the sedative, but he felt more fatigued than usual. His powers sometimes tended to drain him, but only when he overexerted himself. Small tasks like unlocking doors tended to have no affect on him. Kit slumped against the side of the cell wall before his father came in, followed by his mother and Alden.

“Are you ok, Your Highness?” Alden asked as he crouched down in front of him.

“I think he’s just overexerted himself,” His father said.

“Yes, that,” Kit murmured.

Alden fished around in his bag and produced a small glass vial.. “Here,” he said, pulling the stopper out of the vial “This should help.” He handed it to Kit.

Kit took the vial, and drank all of its contents. It tasted bitter, and it burned his throat as it made its way down. Kit coughed a couple times before handing the vial back to Alden.

“Feel any better?” Alden asked.

“Slightly,” Kit said.

“That’s good enough,” His father said, “We need to get you out of here. It’s not safe for you here.”

Kit nodded in agreement. His father had a tendency to go pretty easy on criminals sometimes, which meant that the castle’s dungeons didn’t see much use. They were far from being in a state of disrepair, but he could see cobwebs starting to gather in the corners of his cell and wondered what else he was sharing a cell with. Spiders? Mice? He didn’t want to think about it.

“I want you to go up to your room and pack your bag--”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s not safe for you here,” His father repeated, “What part of that was unclear to you?”

“I thought you were just talking about the dungeons,” Kit admitted. But of course, the castle would be unsafe with Alexander running loose.

His father shook his head. “The fact that Alexander was threatening you and nobody saw--”

“Katrina saw,” Kit corrected.

“We know,” His father said, “She came to get us after she left you. But Alexander is going to be back, and the castle will be the first place we look.”

“Why not just tighten security around here then?” Kit suggested.

“He’s right, Matthew,” His mother said, “Do you really think we need to do this?”

“Security was tightened,” his father pointed out, “This shouldn’t have happened. I need you leave, Kit. Just for a little while, ok? I just want you to be safe.”

“Fine, fine,” Kit muttered. Alden helped him get to his feet, before the four of them left the cell.

***

Kit had managed to pack up his belongings in just a few short minutes. He was not at all surprised to learn that his father had ended the party early and everyone had already gone home by the time Kit had left the dungeon. Kit wasn’t sure whether it was due to the events that transpired in the garden or just due to his father’s own reclusive tendencies. Perhaps, it had even been a bit of both.

Kit met his parents out in the castle’s main entrance hall, where they were waiting to send him off. A guard stood with them, silent and still.

Kit’s father reached into his pocket and produced a small bag of lalts. I’ll need you two to head to Morbane,” he said addressing both Kit and the guard as he handed the bag of money to Kit. “You’re to stay with your Uncle Roland until you hear from us otherwise.”

Kit had only met his Uncle Roland a couple times. Since Morbane was quite a distance from Galtia, he didn’t get to see his mother’s side of the family very often. Kit had never actually been to Morbane, despite it being the location of the Winter Palace. According to his mother, it was a beautiful city. According to his father, he hadn’t been missing out on much. Kit had always wondered which version of the city was closer to the truth, but he wished it could be finding out under better circumstances.

“And you,” his father said pointing at the guard, “You’ll be responsible for keeping him safe. If anything happens to him, I guarantee there will be consequences. Do you understand?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” The guard said, bowing.

“Good, good,” his father said, nodding. “You’d best get going now.”

He said a quick goodbye to both his parents, giving each of them a hug and promised that he’d let them know when he arrived in Morbane before he set off.

Galtia was separated into three districts: The Royal District, the Industrial District, and the Rural District. There were no official borders between any of them, but it was still very obvious when the Royal District became the Industrial district. The opulent manors gave way to squalid factories and the smooth, cobbled roads became rough and uneven. Even the air seemed thicker, despite the fact that all the factories were closed for the night.

Kit walked down the main road, on high alert. His eyes darted all over the place as he made his way down to the train station. Despite having the guard to accompany him, he still couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The fact that the guard was constantly glancing over his shoulder did very little to calm his nerves, but Kit brushed it off as the guard being vigilant and simply trying to do his job.

It was only when the guard turned down a side street, heading the opposite direction of the train station did Kit finally realize that something was amiss. Kit stopped walking and stood defiantly where the two roads intersected.

“Where are you taking me?” Kit demanded.

“The train station,” The guard said, “As per the request of your parents.”

“It’s that way,” Kit said pointing towards down the road that they were supposed to be heading down.

The guard approached Kit, clutching his spear tightly in his hand. “This way is quicker,” the guard said, “Please, Your Highness. Your father won’t be happy with me if I don’t get you to the station.”

“We’re going this way then,” Kit said as he began walking back down the correct road, “I don’t care if it’s a longer walk.” He had his reservations about the guard’s proposed route to the station. It was a smaller, poorly lit side street while the road that Kit now walked down was a main road with street lamps lining each side. Kit rarely left the Royal District, but he still knew the layout of the city well enough to know that the main road would take them directly to the station.

The guard ran to catch up with him. “I’m so sorry to do this, Your Highness.” The guard raised his spear, and slammed the blunt end into the side of Kit’s head.

Kit fell to the ground, his cheek pressed up against the cold, hard ground. The last thing he saw was the spear being yanked out of the guards hand by an invisible force before the guard also collapsed to the ground. Before Kit could even try to comprehend the scene, everything around him faded to black.

---

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Tag list: No one yet, but please let me know if you’d like to be added.

#writeblr #writeblr story #wip #original story #original writing #newvellarton1

[sweetblink]

Blushing Red.

Blushing Red.

___________________

Reggie Mantle x Reader.  

Requested by: Anon

#23 for Reggie porfavor

#23. "Are you blushing?"... "Noooo, I just look like a bright red tomato, of course I am, you idiot!"

Warnings: pining, cursing, getting together.

____________________

"Not to alarm you or anything, but Reggie is clearly showing off to grab your attention, Y/N." Toni said, while Cheryl just snorted.

"You sure it's not for some other bimbo that its in the same gym." You repled, not even looking up from your sketch pad. Toni and Cheryl both shared a look and then chuckled.

"Y/N, the Vixens finished practice an hour ago, almost everyone is gone, and the only bimbos here, are the three of us." Cheryl replied.

You looked up from your sketch pad and looked around the gym. Your eyes widen when you realized that you've lost track of time. "Oh my god, when did you guys get here?" you asked.

The duo both just laughed at you. "Seriously Y/N?" Toni giggled. You smiled. "But, seriously, Reggie has been trying his damn hardest to get your attention." she said, motioning her head towards the basketball court.

You finally looked over to see what the big deal Reggie was making, only to see Reggie get pushed down by Sweet Pea who stole the ball from him. Giggling at Reggie's angry face you shook your head, and send him a small wave when he looked your way.

Reggie sent you a small smile and continued on to play. "You guys would look cute together, why haven't you guys dated?" Toni asked.

Cheryl sighed. "It's because the both of them are being stupid." she replied.

You rolled your eyes at what Cheryl said and turned to Toni. "He's always flriting with other girls, you can't blame me for thinking that he's being serious about dating me." you replied, as you went back to sketching Reggie, looking very serious.

Toni looked over at what you were drawing and smiled. "Oh you have it bad." she teased.

You just scoffed at her. "Don't get any ideas, I happen to draw almost all the guys from the basketball team." you replied, openeing your sketch book and showing her Sweet Pea, Fangs, and some other random guys.

Cheryl just shook her head. "Don't bother, me and Betty have been trying to set them up, but it hasn't worked, yet." she told her, as you smiled innocently up at her.

"Anyways, I'm get going now." You said, gathering your stuff.

"Oh, lover boy has noticed that you're taking off." Toni said, smiling down at the basketball court, you stood up straighter and turned to see Reggie looking away. You just let out a small chuckle and shook your head.

"I'll see you both tomorrow." You replied, and took off.

You quickly made your way out the gym, when you heard a pair of footsteps trying to catch up with you. "Y/N!"

Turning you smiled when you noticed that it was Reggie. "Hey Reg." you greeted.

Reggie stopped in front of you, panting a little. "Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm not free, I'm worth more that millions." You teased.

Reggie just chuckled and shook his head. "Always with the smartass responses."

You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, it's part of my charm."

Reggie just laughed and nodded. "But are, I wanted to take you out to Bijou, and then maybe Pop's."

You smiled at him. "Do you want to meet up and leave after practice, or do you want to pick me up?" you asked.

Reggie began to smile even wider and nodded. "We meet up here."

Yout pouted. "Darn I was hoping you'd answer the latter, I wanted to get all dolled up for you." you teased.

Reggie just chuckled. "You don't have to get dolled up, you're beautiful just the way you are."

You giggled and nodded. "Alright Bruno Mars, it's a date then." you confirmed.

Reggie smile and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "See you tomorrow then." and then took off.  You just giggled like a crazy person and left.

**********************

Just like you promise, the next day, you were seated on the stands, with Toni and Cheryl, while the boys had basketball practice.

"So is it finally happening? Are you guys finally getting together?" Toni asked, smiling wide.

You smiled at her. "Chill Topaz, I only agreed to go on a date, don't get ahead of yourself."

"Babe, calm down, Y/N may have said yes, but that's only because she's testing the waters." Cheryl told Toni.

Toni sighed and sat back. "Ugh, this is so frustrating, it's like waiting for my favorite tv pairing to get together, I just wanna smash their heads together and make them kiss already."

You rolled your eyes at her. "I'm right here you know." you told her.

"Yeah, I know, take a fucking hint." Toni teased.

The three of you just laughed, Cheryl started to laugh even harder when she looked over at the basketball court and saw Reggie trip over his own feet looking over at them. You also noticed it and began to laugh along with Cheryl.

Toni just shook her head. "Well that's embarssing for him." she commented, which only made you and Cheryl laugh even harder.

For the rest of the boy's basketball practice, you, Cheryl,and Toni just talked about how to improve River Vixen routines, and what movies they should see for girl's night. Once basketball practice, Sweet Pea and Fangs made their way over, while Reggie took off to shower.

"Hey, I heard that someone's got a date tonight." Fangs said, smiling wide.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm waiting on Reggie so we can take off."

"You'll tell us if he isn't treating right, right?" Sweet Pea asked. You giggled and nodded at his question.

The door opened and Reggie walked out, you smiled and turned to the others. "Cheryl, can you take my stuff?" you asked her. Cheryl nodded, smiling wide, you hugged them all and made your way towards Reggie.

"Ready to go?" Reggie asked, with his hand stretched out. You nodded, and accepted his hand and the both of you took off. You can hear the girls loud giggles and shrieks when you accepted his hand.

The pair of you went to Bijou, and Reggie surprised you with tickets with Avengers Infinity War. Reggie smiled when he noticed your shocked face. "I asked all your friends which movie, you wanted to see the most." he told you.

"Well what are we watiitng for, lets go," You squealed, eagerly pulling him in to the movies. Reggie just chuckled but complied.

For the rest of the date, it was spent you being in awe of the movie, in some scenes you would grip Reggie's hand hard, in others you would latch onto his arms, at one point you even felt him drop a kiss on your hair as your hid your face, on the Tony Stark and Peter Parker scene.

After the movie was over and staying for the end credits, you finally turned to Reggie and pouted. "I don't want to wait a whole year for the next movie."

Reggie chuckled. "What I enjoyed the most comforting you, as you cried over Peter Parker."

You began to blush widly. "It was an emotional scene!" you defended.

"Are you blushing?" Reggie asked, when he noticed how red your cheeks were.

You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Noooo, I just look like a bright red tomato, of course I am, you idiot!"

Reggie just laughed and then looked into your eyes. "You look even more beautifully adorbale when you blush." he told you. You shyly smiled at him and blushed even more. Reggie just began to stroke your cheek, softly. "I love that it's me that causing you to blush like this." he whispered.

You looked at his eyes and down to his lips, Reggie took that as his cue and he leaned down to kiss you. Letting out a small moan, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer.

"I like you so much." Reggie muttered on your lips.

You smiled. "I'm pretty into you as well." you replied back as you contined to kiss him.

"Be mine, Y/N. Let me be part of the cause of you happiness." Reggie asked.

"Such a sap." You tried to say seriously, as you pulled away, but your smile gave you away. "But yes, I do want to be yours." Reggie smile even wider and leaned down to kiss you again.

When the next morning came, Toni was the one screaming so loud, when she saw you both enter the school hand in hand.

________________________

I think I did a good job on this. 

Masterlist. 

#reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantle imagines #reggie mantle x reader #reggie mantle x you #reader x reggie mantle #you x reggie mantle #reggie mantle #reggie mantle riverdale #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale imagines #riverdale cw #toni topaz #cheryl blossom #fangs fogarty #sweet pea riverdale

[mild-lunacy]

stranger in a fannish land 2: the unpopular opinions

So there's a meme where people are weighing in on what they'd change about The Raven Cycle and it's like.... Many people in fandom really have no sense of what's 'good for the story', or the difference between your personal satisfaction or reaction and 'a good idea' for the plot. Like, I realize that some things are sad, or unfortunate to have happen. But like, just because it's unfortunate (for ex, a character-- say, Noah-- doesn't get a happy ending) doesn't mean it's better not done in fiction. Alternatively, just because you can imagine it, doesn't mean it's even remotely a good idea for the fictional situation and/or characters as they stand. I mean... anything *can* happen, but not everything *should* happen, given you're trying to justify it as a Good Idea in the first place.

Sure, Ronan could've been together with Gansey, or even Kavinsky before Adam. Why not? He also could've been kidnapped by a pedophile as a child, or he could've been hit by lightning and got grey hair, or he could've been born on Maui and never met Gansey. He simply could've died as a baby, etc etc. If you're actually talking about desirable outcomes or things helpful to the relationships between Gansey, Adam, Ronan and Blue, you have to limit these potentialities and look at what *ought* to happen to preserve their dynamic, though. So yeah, Ronan/Kavinsky would be especially destructive to every major relationship in the books, and any hope for growth Ronan has, and in that sense it's equivalent to Ronan being born in Hawaii or dying as a baby. But Ronan/Gansey is just differently destructive to the group dynamic as we know it, with the characters as we know them. It would mean Ronan isn't so romantic and innocent, either, so his whole characterization changes, or it means they're not simply best friends. I mean, you can't 'just' casually have a crush on your closest friend if you're a romantic. If you do, it's usually not something one quickly or easily gets over to move easily onto the next friend, whether that's Blue or Adam. Further, Gansey's power over Ronan would start being really questionable all of a sudden, to the point where you'd have to wonder if Kavinsky was right. Jealousy and weird unrequited feelings would probably threaten the boys' connection with Blue, and this would probably change both Gansey's and Ronan's relationship with Blue. Regardless, an actual canon attraction or relationship between Ronan and Gansey, or between Henry, Blue and Gansey, is not just a fun, sexy little detail you can easily insert at any time. Every choice has consequences like ripples in a pond. That's how life works, but more importantly, it's how fiction works. This is the very thing that fans seem particularly oblivious of.

In general, my point is that just because you have a preference for X thing, or you react in a negative way to Y plot point, it doesn't mean that said X is good and Y is bad. I dunno, I feel like I'm stating the obvious. These aren't super-deep thoughts, are they? I mean, it's actually really blatant that say, Noah had a great arc and/or served his purpose wonderfully in the books, and yet maybe 5 people out of 100 seem aware of this in Raven Cycle fandom. Almost every post complaining about TRK states Noah's resolution sucked 'cause he 'deserved better'. I'd understand if 6 year-olds said that sort of thing, because it takes a while to understand dead people don't get better, but otherwise, I don't see how ghosts deserve happiness. Like, they're already dead, basically. Noah started out dead, and this had a major purpose in that plot. And dead is dead, man. That's kinda the *point* of being dead. It's both permanent and unhappy. As far as being dwelled on afterwards, none of the events of the climax got dwelled on afterwards. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, so the number one thing that drives me batty in fandom is people ignoring the entire idea of characterization or plot requirements in the story and assuming any old thing or headcanon that they wanted could actually somehow work. I dunno if these fans even think in terms of things 'working', though maybe I should be more optimistic. Like, for example, even agreeing it'd be great if Gansey also kissed/liked boys and was bisexual... why would he *randomly* kiss his friends? Who in the world does that outside pure romantic/sexual fantasies? Why not at least ask the question of 'why Gansey' first? Or why not demand Adam kiss random boys, 'cause at least he's confirmed to be bisexual in canon? Is there any other point except that everyone needs to be queer at all times? Even individual fanfics would usually at least try to make sense, rather than randomly putting in an assortment of happy headcanons. (Granted, I've seen fics that claim to incorporate an assortment of headcanons, but this isn't typical.) Who really wants books to be a collection of politically correct boxes checked, double checked and triple checked? Honestly.

What really drives me nuts is not really the fact that people want these counterproductive things to be canon, because surely the heart wants what it wants. It's the misunderstanding of the way fiction works, and consequently that these posts blame the writer(s) for their so-called failure in delivering what makes no sense in the first place. Like, some critiques are valid, obviously, even though I don't think the characterization of either Ronan or Adam (as it stands) easily transfers onto a POC character. Their background would need to change to some degree (particularly Ronan's, being Irish as a matter of characterization), so essentially it'd be a different character (though Blue is different). Anyway, so one can certainly critique that, as well as the pros and cons of labelling Adam bisexual more explicitly and so on. But stuff like randomly bi Gansey or happy Noah are just headcanons and pure wish-fulfillment. And my issue is that fandom doesn't draw any kind of serious line between these two kinds of 'critiques', in part because they often use the same lingo. It's literally like no one is aware that say, polyamory isn't really even in the same box as racial and sexual diversity representation, so Stiefvater had no responsibility to include Sarchengsey. Just because you care about that headcanon and/or real life issue doesn't make it a *social justice* responsibility that needs addressing in the media. I would think that's obvious, but it definitely isn't.

I think the underlying problem in my relating to fandom these days is that I don't... 'read' characters any particular way. Like, I may have interpretations about what happened and guesses as to what will happen, as well as hopes, but I don't just *decide* things. I never personally decide to read a character as gay, trans, ace, or a POC (let alone polyamorous), unless they're stated or super-heavily implied as being intended as any or all of the above. That is not a thing that happens to me. Of course, 'implied' kinda means that canon can get fuzzy to me, which is certainly true. Usually I'm just aware 'this is fuzzy'; maybe it's that even if I do go further, I don't fill in blanks with personal experience on any conscious level that I've ever noticed. It's not that I'm (that much of) a canon absolutist; I'm just unlikely (and indeed almost incapable of) making leaps that aren't ultimately suggested by the text. I'm also definitely irritated by many people who *do* make such leaps in a preachy, pushy, in-your-face way, like canon is irrelevant and fanon is the Only Truth needed (and if you disagree, you're the problem). If it's subtle but still intentionally textual, I'll (eventually) see it. If it's not textual... I probably won't. I don't read against the grain, basically.

It wouldn't be so bad (my mental dissonance in fandom, I mean) if not for the pushy holier-than-thou posts about the Truthiness of things which are absolutely Not Canon, which are always at the back oh my mind. So I guess I can overreact to some innocent wish-fulfillment stuff sometimes. I don't mean Truthiness like those (wanky and unfortunate) old debates about canon Johnlock or even (apparently) whether Victuuri is canon. That's actually less weird 'cause at least I can see people genuinely reading the text differently in that case, for whatever reason. Like yeah, I mean, I think denying Victuuri is canon is ridiculous and I haven't even watched Yuri on Ice. But at least those people seem to have some sort of reasoning as to *why* they think Victuuri doesn't exist, even if it's bad or homophobic reasoning. What really frustrates me the most is the growing fandom trend of people who wilfully ignore canon and the very idea of interpretive/headcanon plausibility without even acknowledging there's a deeper disagreement.

Like, we're talkin' the level of the folks who go beyond 'let's racebend Ronan Lynch' (ok, sure!), through the valley of 'you better racebend him or you're Problematic' (um, are you sure? I think I'm going to go with 'strongly disagree') and into the shadow of 'Ronan Lynch *is* black, and if you *deny* it you're Problematic'. I know it's all fun, games and headcanons, but when you're trying to get other people to replace their idea of canon with your headcanon, or trying to justify it in general, eventually it becomes all too easy to forget you'd ever even noticed that, say, Ronan is white while reading the books. And in fact, many people seem genuinely confused about that aspect of canon reality at this point, which is kind of terrifying to me. I value my ability to process the text correctly, pay attention to basic facts and, well, perceive objective reality in general. And yes, white Ronan Lynch is objective canon reality. You can certainly mess with it in fanworks (that's what fanworks are for!), but it remains canon, and no headcanon is morally superior enough to canon to *have* to be the preferable choice, let alone actually *replacing* it. In fact, the very idea that the more morally superior thing is somehow more 'correct' on a literal level is... Problematic. At least, to me. Not least because I think that although we do definitely need more representation, fellow fans cannot have a responsibility to invent it where it doesn't exist. Ability is not *responsibility*.

Basically, while transformative readings and headcanons are a great outlet and a fundamental part of fandom, it's not the *responsibility* of other character fans or fellow shippers to follow them or even support them. To me, that's really basic stuff that's long made fandom function on a fundamental level (on par with 'ship what you like'), and the fact that it often seems the majority of Tumblr fandom disagrees is making participation near-intolerable, at least in The Raven Cycle (the most extreme examples of this type of wank are concentrated in book fandoms, it seems, 'cause I think actors are more 'real' to people visually). It should just always be unnecessary to even say that if you don't want to slash, or racebend, or even ship outside of the canon sandbox (or you want to sometimes but not others), there's *nothing* wrong with that, as long as you accept that others won't have the same preferences. I really can't believe I feel I even have to say so, but I know I do. There's nothing wrong with preferring or enjoying canon as is. That's the basic level of the meaning of being fannish, surely. You like the thing you like! Liking it the way it is in canon cannot be considered the *inferior* way of liking it. So yeah, the mental dissonance can get very, *very* intense for me.

Essentially, good characters (especially ones I care about at all) and their core emotional responses and frameworks are real to me: Ronan is an individual. He's white, he's Irish-American, he's a Southern boy, he's got blue eyes. He's also angry, depressed, idealistic, loyal. Sherlock is an individual. He's also a white male, he's a Londoner, he's got dark curly hair, a low voice and many chins. And he's analytical, sensitive but interpersonally oblivious in some ways, obsessed with John, jealous of Mycroft, etc. You *can* certainly change most of this in a fic, but this doesn't mean you *should*, certainly without acknowledging the broad-ranging consequences. In a good and IC fanfic, you would have to acknowledge that those core traits are still the basic starting points, part of the definition of the character. Basically, as anyone who knows me will know, I've got an unholy obsession with ICness, even/especially in the context of fanon pairings, settings or situations like AUs. The characters and their core motivations are simply not fungible or interchangeable to me. This isn't really a failure of imagination ('why can't you just imagine whatever?' you say), but rather about seeing an imaginary person *so* vividly in my mind they they become effectively real.

In a way, this sounds similar enough to what people say happens with various projections and headcanons, but the process actually seems rather different, 'cause I pay attention to the text and not just my reactions to it. I love to imagine, to build upon the possibilities of the canon world, of course. I just... have to have a foundation. I can't imagine being *any* kind of fan without paying close attention outside of myself and caring about what I find there, in the text. Fanon and canon have to be separated for *either* to have true meaning.

In any case, in a broader sense, I do think I understand what happens to the people who get hung up on their headcanons and start insisting on them. My imagination is always something that starts out broad and open and ends up cast in stone, once I feel I've figured out what the relevant 'truth' is, in context. I can certainly settle on an interpretation and get pretty hardline about it, which happened to a large extent with my ideas about canon Johnlock (though I was always aware what's opinion and what's fact, I became very certain about my reading and I definitely got pretty easily frustrated by people who ignored the 'obvious'). That's why I separated a close reading or interpretation like canon Johnlock and even Victuuri from something like racebending Ronan Lynch, though. That's not a plausible reading or interpretation; rather, it's a simple denial and substitution of canon (which, as I've said, I never do). Telling me that doing it would be morally preferable doesn't really help (to say the least), although the process of how people get to this point *is* familiar to me.

I can and *do* often enjoy AUs or graphics where there's a new context for the character (say, edits where Ronan is Korean or Mexican-Irish have been cool). Not all AUs are created equal to me, though, 'cause not all AUs or fanon scenarios work with the characters' core traits, as written. Sometimes, though, fanon ships (a form of an AU) do work on the level of potential, like the Road Not Travelled By. You can sometimes imagine the canon arc splitting off at some crucial point, so it bends but doesn't break. This can be complicated stuff, but it's how I intuitively think of it. Generally, I'd need a sense of broader changes to who they are as a result of a new life history, but that's still an agreed-upon suspension of disbelief. Consequences, in other words.

#me myself and i #pointless rambles #oh fandom #shipping #raven cycle #reader response #narrative #characterization #Irish!Ronan #fandom meta