#i think of my blog as a collection of interesting thoughts and takes that ppl have shared with me

[cherryblossomshadow]

https://youtu.be/7oFu2pNnRIc

Where did you think Top Cop Harris come from

Hey, I'm not the most knowledgeable on this subject, but yes, I have heard that Kamala called herself Top Cop while she was District Attorney.

The only two posts on my blog that address this have imo pretty nuanced takes on this, which boil down to:

Kamala is not perfect, but we can't wait for a perfect candidate to magically appear

Therefore, you can absolutely criticize her for things she did, things she contributed to, things that happened on her watch

But you should criticize her for what really happened. People may not know that she wasn't a uniformed officer who physically arrested people. She got into law to protect women and children from abuse

Yes, she was upholding a corrupt and racist system. But criticize her for that. Not for lies

We can talk about the nuances of what she WAS, but we first have to correct the mistaken impression of what she WASNT

.

Additionally, I think it should be allowed to feel hope for a candidate that isn't as bad as you thought. It's allowed to correct some misinformation around you

I'm not looking at this election like she's some savior who will fix the world just bc she's not really a cop. I'm hoping that ppl won't write her off based on inaccurate information, only accurate information. Bc the only other alternative is That Guy

.

Again, I'm not an expert on this. But the takes that I elevate aren't only the ones that I like or agree with; they're the takes that I think make a good point or are worth chewing on.

Some greatest hits from this post:

Be careful what you read, always be critical of how facts are presented to you, and don't be afraid to admit when you're wrong.

There's no such thing as a good cop, but there do exist naive cops with good intentions who think they can change the system from within

The real nuance is that the position of "top cop" or whatever can't be left empty. When you're filling out the ballot and get to sheriffs and prosecutors, every candidate is an acab. There are no right choices simply by what the nature of the job is. But there are candidates who will attempt that incremental change, and ones who can make things much worse.

She gets my vote at least, she's definitely better than trump or biden, but I'm still hesitant to give my absolute full support.

And from this post:

It didn’t hit me until recently that people genuinely think Kamala Harris was a police officer because of all the people who call her a cop online.

We can discuss how related that is to police work and how tied she is to the carceral system etc etc (but for fairness would have to include her record of pushing for lowering incarceration rates through programs helping former prisoners + her office refusing to jail folks for low level weed offense). But she was never a police officer. 

I think it’s important to note she learned and grew over time, as well.

What drives me crazy about the prosecutor/district attorney = cop common line of leftist thinking is that. People always talk about when a progressive DA is appointed, and how important that is, because the DA literally can just decide not to prosecute certain offenses.

I’d also like to add that if you look at her record in a timeline she has gotten progressively more liberal!

#some ppl will call it pandering but uhhhh we literally want our politicians to listen to our concerns and change their policies based on it

We vote for the weakest adversary. The weakest adversary is always the politician who mostly agrees with you but got where they are by compromising with an unjust system. Elect that person and mush their face in the compromises they’ve made and we can undo the fucked up laws and practices !!!! Or you can let someone who can never be convinced because they hold opposite views on criminalization, incarceration, police brutality and immunity, etc. If you don’t understand or care that voting works this way, where’s your pipe bombs and guerilla fighter cells? Cause that or complacency with fascist takeover is all you’re eating 

Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good.

#youre not gonna budge trump #but if youre not happy with kamala #nudge her left! #dont let perfect be the enemy of good #or progress #we're still on the wrong side of the line #but how are we going to get to the right side without taking a single step?

[moonchild033]

Random astro community related thoughts going on my mind 😏😑

I would request u all to read it thoroughly but yea whatever😏

Idk how many ppl are going to get offended or have controversial views to this but since it's MY BLOG, I'm gonna write things that are constantly disturbing my mind.🙂

First of all, I'm feeling truly devastated by seeing the number of astro posts circulating around Liam Payne's d*ath. Why r u hellbent on dissecting someone's d*ath? Idk what tropical astrology teaches, so I can't say anything about that, but as far as ik, traditional vedic astrologers are trained NOT to predict someone's demise or dissect a de*d person's chart, so kindly refrain from using vedic astrology and its tools such as divisional charts to do this, I find it very disrespectful. Vedic astrology can just be a science or interesting content for u, but for other ppl it's a part of their heritage and it has its respect, so don't misuse it. Also I kind of think it's literally humane to not make content out of someone's demise, be a human first then u can be a celebrity.😒

Be responsible about what u say, u might not know how much impact your words have but there are ppl who are following and reading your posts. I feel like some knowledge should've stayed in the same place, protected and safe in the right hands rather than accessible to everyone, Kali yug is definitely not the era where ppl r sensible enough to understand how to wield knowledge bcoz it is literally a POWER. 😌

The way the world of Nadi astrology is destroyed by the same means, knowledge going in the wrong hands, now it has become a whole scam, spinning tales and extorting money. Nadi is where sages like Agasthiya wrote future horoscopes and its predictions along with their past lives. Our lives have been written in palm leaves years ago, the main sanctuary of the collection is in Tamilnadu, it was passed on from generation to generation in certain family lineages, then some of them sold it, made fake ones and it got sparsely distributed and now almost vanished (Ik in specific temple some of the originals are stored even today, I'll not mention the name, I'm tired of misuse of knowledge, if u r genuinely interested Google is free). Even our accurate d*ath incident is written in there but the real nadi families back then were trained not to reveal it, so they just say 'Stay healthy and careful in that time, be cautious while driving' that's it. I know of real life incidents predicted through that, my dad's friend and my bestfriend 's mother both d*ed on the same predicted year and month by the same warned incident, my dad's friend was asked to be cautious of vehicles in that time period and he d*ed due to an accident and my friend's mom was asked to take care of health issues on a specific time period and she d*ied due to cancer. It's ur choice to believe in an age old writing of ur destiny in a palm leaf but it was an accurate tool some 20-30yrs back but today when it went into the wrong hands, that is when the knowledge got spread rather than being protected and reached ppl with wrong intentions, it all went berserk, now they just bluff nonsense. Still there are authentic family lineages with real texts and skills but it's very hard to differentiate between a whole lot of fraudsters. 🙃

So yea, overall I'm pissed off about the fact that some things are better to have left the way it is rather than showcasing it to the whole world to have it misused, like vedic astrology too, if u r learning it, respect it's ethics too, don't disrespect it's norms for the sake of ur content.😌😬

Idc if u disagree with me, this is MY opinion and I'll stand by it, BYEEE 😤😌

(But I'm angry too 😒)

[myfandomrealitea]

saw ur post about going incognito into spaces and stuff and i wanted to add my own thoughts about my experience of basically being stuck in places where proshippers r hated (not against wut ur saying! i definitely agree that theres no benefits and honestly its not that fun)

the fandom that im currently in is.. very toxic. someone got harassed to the point of having to delete their account bc they "supported" a proshipper (it was literally just them saying that u shouldnt harass this person just bc theyre proship-). a lot of my friends were very supportive of this person and agreed that ppl shouldnt be harassed over shit like that and many of them seem to have similar viewpoints as me (anti harassment and all that) but prefer to stay away from that stuff

the fandom is basically ran by antis. theres a small corner that some ppl have made where they talk about proship stuff freely (love those ppl so much theyre genuinely so nice) but overall its. not the best place to be if ur proship. which is interesting to me bc theres actually a shocking amount of proshippers that just... dont say anything. on my side blog ive had multiple ppl interact that i thought were anti (or at least just. not proship in some way) but would literally go and like all my posts about incest ships of the characters.

and sometimes i think about it and how theres actually a bunch of proshippers but we're so heavily harassed and silenced that we just- dont say anything. but the fandom is small and we cant exactly separate ourselves from it if we really like the show. and i feel especially bad for some of the bigger blogs that ppl love and adore bc i know wut would happen if somehow ppl found out and made some big post or wutever.

i dont pretend to be antiship but i dont outright say im proship unless i really trust that person

im currently trying to make my own lil space with some friends so at least if anything goes wrong i at least have a few ppl but its a bit scary to think about honestly-

Although it can be full of snot-nosed superiority complexes, I do recommend using the AO3 Subreddit in order to find likeminded people for your fandom. The very vast majority of the AO3 Subreddit is proship or at least proship neutral. Antis are generally eviscerated on sight whenever they try to poke their nose into it.

If you have any other fandoms that you are active in or have friends within, there's also no harm in introducing them to your small fandom.

From what I understand the Marvel fandom did kind of the same thing you're describing with the Starker shippers, but they flourished and supported each other anyway.

I know its easy for me to simply say 'do it anyway' as someone who generally could not give a fuck about anyone's opinion of me, but honestly. Do it anyway. Form your little collective. Support each other. Learn how to write and draw and make GIFs so you feed your own portion of the fandom. You physically do not need those people, it just unfortunately takes a bit of effort and means potentially a bit less content until you start really generating your own.

Fandom spaces do not start out from nothing. Promote the shit out of your fandom. Draw people in. Comb through the proship tags and send asks to blogs like mine asking other proshippers to check out the source material.

People in small fandoms are easy to bully because you're so enclosed into this circle of the exact same people. They happen to be the majority in the room and they're weaponising it.

Force them into a bigger room.

[velvetvexations]

woops turned this into an anon bc i have Thoughts about "gendered hobbies" and how they feel really isolating (i.e. "tgirls program tboys craft" and similar): even before transitioning I enjoyed a lot more "boy's media" than "girl media" and if anything only leaned in more to liking "girl stuff" when I came out, but like…i also dont really get the "butches and trans masc people are so similar" when I have more in common w trixie mattel than a butch lesbian. my doll collection is so vast but as a kid i spurned em for pokemon; now I just have tons of both, lol. I paint and sew but also fuck around w romhacking and game modding? i just think overprescribing gender to hobbies/interests ignores that like...most trans ppl i know have experiences outside the gender binary whether they themselves are binary trans or not... which dont get me wrong, its cool that other trans ppl can find euphoria in participating in 'trans experiences' that align w their genders (like. if u like programming in socks and cat ears as a girl and it makes u feel Girly who am i to judge???) but im also like. we dont have to just make another separate Trans Binary of Trans Gender Roles....

(also sometimes it feels a bit infantilizing re: trans men into crafting like we're all about taking fibre arts seriously until trans men do it, god forbid. just because I'M not using math to do my stitches doesnt mean it isnt just as pattern focused as, say, making EDM?)

(final set of parentheses i swear. love your blog and your aesthetic so much. YYH was also my big first Grownup Anime when i was a kid that Had Blood In It (dbz did a lot of punching but no blood so it was Fine.) did you/have you read hunterxhunter too? :o)

To this day it's hard to tell how much of things like Barbie etc. were interests I would have been into if I were allowed them and how much was just agitating for them to assert myself as a girl. Gendering things is weird. Gender is weird.

I distinctly remember watching YYH uncensored, but I could have sworn that was before I allowed myself to watch Adult Swim as well and that it was on Toonami. Yet I distinctly remember the mind controlled humans in the Dark Tournament saga begging to be killed and a few other things that were done away with in the censored version.

I haven't read Hunter x Hunter and it's entirely because I think Gon's outfit is hideous. Literally that is the only reason.

[eemoo1o-animoo]

Went to the Kuro tag for the first time in forever, saw your live blogging of the book of the Atlantic, liked your takes, went to your profile, liked your takes there, followed you

Currently looking for ppl to talk about black butler with so >~>

Your blog says you got opinions about claude and Sebastian, never considered that ship before; wanna tell me about it?

*wheezy fucking WHEEZE*

Aww, got me blushing I see. (It’s also a relief to see my blog back in the tags after the fortnight long shadowban lol definitely not scarred by that).

Relatively new to the fandom (I’d say since mid-July this year but I genuinely can’t tell you for certain, but I’ve known of the anime since the day I added it to my Netflix list after over-hearing someone talk about it and then just never watched it, and so eventually it got removed from Netflix anyway so), but I finally got into it because of an amv of an awesome cover where on the original video (of the cover) people were saying they found it because of a Black Butler amv. Of course, I did the opposite, lmao.

I’m not a manga reader, although I would like to be, and I do/have spoil(ed) myself for most of the lore from the wiki and talk of the manga stuff. Just thought I’d get that out of the way.

It’s interesting how s2 isn’t apart of the manga, because it is an interesting concept (more demons), and I just think that that Sebastian deserves another demon to be petty and to twirl around with, you know?

Lmao, the “live reactions” are relatively spontaneous. I just watch something and I’m like “oh my god oh my god, so like” and on one of my posts I speculated (never reading the manga but knowing of R!Ciel) and someone commented “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened”. And I’m like “haha, well fuck me I am the messiah”.

And thanks for the follow! I really appreciated that! (Again, it’s a baby blog only made in like, early October maybe after I realised I was spamming my main with too much Kuro, so I’m always so glad that someone finds interest in it.)

Feel free to talk/ask anytime, also.

As for Claudebastian… well, for one, I try tagging my posts as concisely as I can, so for the whole “shipping timeline” I suppose you could search for #claudebastian on my profile. (Is that link working? I don’t think it is.) Or #seblaude, because they’re tagged with both.

I also do character playlists for Kuro (an incomplete list, because I couldn’t do anything during the shadowban). Plus, fanfiction. My AO3 is linked in my bio, and the majority of that pseud’s works are Claudebastian.

I suppose the main things to know about me and Claudebastian is:

I first hate-shipped Clannah(?) because I resented them both.

By episode five, Bedewed Butler, (an episode I only remember the name and number of because I had to type it out like a million times when I made a bunch of GIFs for the episode, all under #my gifs and #they’re gay your honour) I started to ship them.

I made a headcanon list regarding them so I could work past the week of writer’s block I had for my second one shot (which I’m still writing and hope to get out later today if I’m so lucky).

My first Claudebastian fic that I made is the one mentioned on top, aka. an unfinished one shot trilogy that I made before even finishing season two and labelled His Mate, Loving (The Claudebastian Collection), because I wholeheartedly expected it to be my one and only Claudebastian work.

I was wrong.

My second published work for Claudebastian (third for Kuro as a whole) is Dear Claude, something which I tried leaving as a fic with an ambiguous relationship/feelings, but it was kinda hard to write that way.

I intend on writing a platonic Grellebastian friendship fic (bit of angst, one sided Grelliam, Grelltaker as the end goal maybe, possibly, who knows) which you can probably find under #grelle fic.

That fic is currently back in action, so to speak, after I’ve watched BoA.

Which is infuriating because I hesitated to watch season three in fear of killing the Claudebastian mood (it did not, probably because of William being there lol), and same goes for Book of Murder, but then I went into Book of Atlantic so I could make GIFs for an up and coming Grelle vs The Undertaker character analysis, but came out with the inspo for Claudebastian slipping away (and after such a good week/maybe two weeks of writing little and often for that one shot).

Kind of re-contemplating the toxic Clauannah marriage (again). Fuck my life.

The theme is kind of a reference to my reactions to season two (and Claudebastian) clogging up my main and resulting in the creation of the blog. Plus I ship them.

Sorry if this doesn’t serve as much of a reply to your questions, but I tried. Feel free to ask again when you’re able!

TL;DR — I’m a rambling idiot.

[lxmiko]

hi miko !! happy to see u again here on tumblr:D

So can i get a matchup? Im a very touchy and clingy person that loves to take care of everyone like a mother. Sometimes i can be a lil loud abt things i love, im very very patient with people i love and care. I love to hangout with ppl, im pretty chill ig:)

For things i like i enjoy manga, games like muse dash, streamer overload, etc, i like cats, vtubers ofc, music and i think thats pretty much it !

Anyone in luxiem is fine but i dont wanna be paired with hex

mwa mwa for u miko<3

matchup!!

—

note: it’s finally summer MUAHAHAHAH, time to be an absolute menace and write more >:DDD, also have been thinking of starting either another writing blog or including more fandoms on this one… hmmmmm…

disclaimer: this is solely my opinion of which character i believe suits you the most based on the description you wrote!! sorry if it isn't who you thought it'd be ;;

matchup under the cut!!

—

i match you up with… mysta rias!!!

i think he genuinely finds a lot of comfort in your overall easy going personality (tbh, he might compare you to shu at times)

he jokes around a lot, and probably has asked you, “are you my mum? hm?” teasingly multiple times, and he also jokingly calls you “mommy” too, just to be mean

he most definitely finds joy in seeing you gush over things you’re excited about and enjoy and would probably come right back at you ten times louder !!

whether or not it’s something he’s heard of before or something he’s heard a million times, mysta is always happy to see you break out of your usual calm exterior to ramble about your interests

he doesn’t mind your affection, and denies that you’re “clingy” (probably encourages it tbh) and proudly flaunts you and your affections

mysta can be rowdy sometimes, intentionally or not, and he’d appreciate being with someone kind and patient like you. in a way, it’d soothe him, lessen his worries that you might become impatient and leave him when he’s upset at something (it’s never you)

mysta is an insecure person unfortunately, and bashes himself a lot because of it, and you being so loving and patient with his self-loathing would comfort him a lot more than he’d be able to show

without fail, he’d hug you tightly, deeply sigh, and thank you, but to him, there wouldn’t be enough words or actions to express hiw grateful he is to have met you

mysta is an extroverted introvert at heart, but with his favorite person, he definitely wouldn’t mind going out and hanging out with you and others

even if at times it might be overwhelming to be hanging out with people, mysta would push through for you, and you being there would make it a lot easier to socialize too

mysta would definitely make you read a couple of the shoujo mangas he has in his collection, and wouldn’t mind sharing with you at all!!!

mysta has also played needy streamer overload!! and he enjoys rhythm games c:!!

i think you liking cats would just encourage mysta to “nya” a lot more, sorry not sorry. he’s a pretty cringey person, and he’s not afraid to embarrass you

—

[thebonesofhoudini]

Honestly, family, I don't even listen to Hip-Hop like that anymore. I turned 40 two months ago and other than my old school 90s and 2000s shit, I have not really been interested in listening to new rap.

I don't feel like listening to rappers almost half my age rap about stuff they haven't really experienced. I can't relate to that.

Plus I grew up in the 90s, when we actually had serious rappers, and hip-hop was taken serious. It's hard to get into this new music when you grew up listening to Nas, Wu Tang, Biggie, 2pac, Mobb Deep, Jeru Tha Damaja, Gangstarr, Killah Priest, Brand Nubian, Outkast, Scarface, Snoop, Dre, Cypress Hill, E-40, etc. And at one point in my early 20s, I definitely carried myself like an elitist "Real Hip-Hop" backpacker who only listened to underground/independent rappers. And looked at graffiti magazines. And tried to be a B-Boy and breakdance at one point.

I actually started losing interest in HipHop in 2000s because of that. NY rap was dying in the mainstream, The South rose to prominence, and dare I say it, Rap started to get really dumbed down. And I've wasn't really feeling the negative content either.

I was collecting House and Techno records all throughout the 2000s. While collecting Hip-Hop vinyl and Funk, Soul, Reggae, Ambient, Drum & Bass, Jungle, IdM, etc.

I actually used to do both once upon a time. Between 2007-2008.

I would go and play in bars and clubs and play 90s hip-hop instrumentals mixed w/ downtempo and hip hop instrumentals. It was inspired by "Mushroom Jazz" by Mark Farina. The crowd I was playing for at time like that stuff liked it because it was something cool that you could talk to your lady to or have a conversation to or even rap over.

But then around this time, I started to get more interested in playing House Music and producing House Music. This was around the late 2000s when Blog House was taking over the internet and all of these DJs were popping up all over due to Serato and CDJs.

Let me tell you something even back then. Some people for as many people as there were that loved when I did house there were a lot of people too that got pissed off when I played it. They would say things like "play some Hip-Hop" like that's all Black People should be playing or listening to. Even back then, as much of a "Head" as I considered myself, I found that thought process so fucking ignorant. And these comments were coming from both Black ppl and White ppl.

Well now I am 27 years in the production game and 25 years in the DJ game.

I'm happy to say I'm still DJing and still making music.

Personally, I like House music because I can just vibe to it, chill to it, dance to it. Etc. And I don't really gotta think too much about it. Plus I'm kind of a goofy dude that doesn't like to take themselves too seriously and likes to dance, and that's the type of approach I have to my music. I feel it fits my personality more.

Recently I don't know. Between all the Rico/Fed cases, the stupid gossip and drama, the shootings, the killings, the constant negativity, the ignorance, all the all these fucking podcasts, these Peter pan syndrome ass dudes in their 30s and 40s, and all of these so-called rap "fans" that don't even take the rappers they listen to seriously, I am sooooo not interested in Rap/Hip-Hop anymore. Especially as much as I used to be interested in it when I was a teen and in my early 20s.

[dziedznuts]

uh intro ig??

you can call me maggie or maggs, whichever one you prefer :)

i use she/her pronouns!

i am quite literally brand new to tumblr and i have no clue what i'm doing

Basic Info n Boundaries!

i'm 18 yrs old and i'm bisexual

i’m a cis woman but i really couldn't care less about gender/pronouns/terms/whatever

my dm's are open if you wanna chat, just don't be creepy please n thanks!!

my ask is also open!! pls talk to me i prommy i don't bite

honestly just don't be weird or creepy. also no political or discourse heavy ppl please, but other than that i'm probably chill with you :))

Interests!!

i have a lot of interests that i will never stfu about so very very sorry if you came here for anything in specific but my main interests are:

youtubers/streamers/content creators? (jschlatt, jack manifold, scott the woz, etc etc)

music! my favorite bands/artists are: Arctic Monkeys, TV Girl, Foo Fighters, Los Campesinos!, Glass Animals, and more!!

video games (especially nintendo games omg i love nintendo so much fdjkfdjfskl)

sports but ESPECIALLY hockey (let’s go red wings!!)

books n reading

D&D

crochet and crafting!

under the cut: other info and tagging system :)

Other Info!

i'm always open to talk to ppl, especially about shared interests!!

i tend to use gendered terms (i.e. girl, dude, bro, babygirl, etc.) pretty gender-neutrally. please let me know if i call u something that you are uncomfy with!!

i don't use sideblogs or anything, so this blog will be very random and unorganized and will probably change over time as my interests change :))

uh yeah i think that's it!!

Tagging System

Personal Tags:

#dziedz thoughts - literally just... random posts that don't really connect to anything el oh el

#dziedz irl - posts about my irl life, venting or sharing or just showing cool pictures i take :)

#dziedz liveblogs - self explanatory hahah

#dziedz jamz - music + vinyl collecting posts

#fluffernutter! - pictures of my lovely cat, fluffy :3

#dz's digital hugs - positive/mental health focused posts :)

Gaming Tags:

#dziedzcraft - posts about minecraft

#nintendziedz - posts about nintendo games (usually mario or pokemon heheh)

Other Tags:

#dndziedz - d&d posts

#dz’s theatre - posts about theatre… mostly me complaining about being a stage manager el oh el

#dziedz wings - hockey posting

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hiii, could i have a request for how the gang members would react to meeting a historian or explorer in the wild?? thank you! I love your blogs sm!!

anon ily <3333 i went wayy overboard with these but i regret nothing bc this was soo cute and fun to write. I hope u enjoy and i made it gn for everyone. I only did the VDL boys for this but if enough ppl like it i might do the girls with something similar idk yet?

Dutch Van Der Linde

Dutch first laid eyes on you when you were hanging off the edge of a cliff after slipping when you got too close to the edge. He immediately ran over to you, helping you off the cliff and getting you settled back on your feet.

He seemed genuinely concerned and agreed to help you safely record the rock carving that was on the side of the cliff face, keeping you from falling.

You were a historian and had been studying these mysterious rock carvings after meeting an equally mysterious man, Francis Sinclair.

You didn’t see much of Dutch Van Der Linde after that until you ran into him again in Saint Denis in the saloon. He remembered who you were instantly and started up a conversation about your work where you chatted away for hours.

You became very close after that and he often accompanied you to Museums and fancy fundraisers that you were invited to.

He’d always get dressed up and complimented your finer outfits which was such a difference to the field gear you’d have on. You’d spend all night chatting away over nice champagne and dancing together before actually engaging with other guests but you didn’t have a care in the world with Dutch in your life.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur finds you standing in the middle of a field, flipping over rocks and staring numbly at what appeared to be a map in your hands.

When he approached you he soon learnt you were a young amateur explorer about to get your big break with a treasure hunt but you couldn’t find the gold bars for the life of you.

Arthur gave you a heart warming smile and held up a gold bar after retrieving it from his satchel having felt a little bad that he’d discovered it not a week before you.

The two of you laughed about it, calling yourself a fool for trying to find it for so long when it was clearly missing— the thought that someone took it clearly never crossed your mind.

Arthur was always a gentleman however and promised to make it up to you. After taking you to dinner and getting to know him better, you spent the next few days camping out and finding a new treasure together.

You travelled through caves and through valleys of flowers to find this treasure. Sometimes it was so beautiful that the two of you just stopped by a stream to let your horses rest and enjoy the scenery.

When you finally found the treasure you gave Arthur a big hug in excitement which caught him by surprised but he happily returned. He let you keep the treasure and wished you luck with more exploring but of course that wasn’t the last time you saw Arthur again.

Charles Smith

Charles meets you one day while you’re out surveying wildlife. You specialised in conservation, wanting to study and protect animal species.

Fresh out of the university from Saint Denis you’d been dying to get out of the confining city and explore the heartlands. That’s where a kind gentleman named Charles Smith had offered to protect you and show you around the herds of bison you’d taken to studying.

You spent days together riding the over the hills and following the herd as they travelled. While you were Charles told you all about his family and the respect and love they have for the beautiful creatures.

It was amazing the array of knowledge Charles knew about bison and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he told you about the characteristics of the bison. You rushed to take notes in your journal, knowing that all that he told you would help you study and protect these animals.

“Do you think it’ll actually do any good? The work you’re doing?”

“One can only hope Mr.Smith but I will do everything in my ability to protect such beautiful creatures.”

Even when you had to return to the city for study you constantly wrote to Charles, staying in touch and keeping him updated with all your work. It was hard to say goodbye to someone you’d grown close to but you made regular visits to each other long after that.

John Marston

You first found John in the saloon after a long day at work, in desperate need of a drink. Being a zoologist you instantly noticed the scars on his face and would’ve guessed a wolf was the animal that caused the damage.

The two of you instantly started up a conversation and shared all kinds of stories. He told you about being up on the mountain while you showed him the scar on your arm from your run in with a cougar.

You were collecting a compendium of all the animals across the heartlands and during the months you worked on it, you ran into John more than once.

He was always curious about your work and you often spent time together in the afternoon sun, showing him the animals you’d found so far.

“What about the stray dogs in town or do you only deal with cougars and wolves?”

“Well they’re animals too aren’t they not?”

Even though you couldn’t see John all the time, he often came along with you to see the wildlife and covered you when you were around particularly dangerous animals and you enjoyed every second you had with him.

Micah Bell

When Micah met you he had absolutely no idea what you were on about. In his mind the whole idea of a palaeontologist is ridiculous and made up, much less the fact that you chose to read books and study in your spare time.

At first he doesn’t do anything but mock your work but after running into you time and time again he finally started to come around.

He grew more and more curious when he saw the drawings in your sketch books of dinosaurs and even more so when he laid eyes on the fossils. But knowing Micah, he’s still incredibly stubborn.

“Ain’t no way that thing is real.”

“One needs an open mind to comprehend what’s prehistoric Mr.Bell. It requires a certain practice.”

Every so often on your work you’d run into Micah who’d be riding around on his horse, just passing by. By now you’d consider him a friend and your face lit up as he pulled a small ammonite fossil from his bag.

It wasn’t really your area of expertise but you could tell he wanted to impress you and seemed almost nervous as you examined the fossil. Nonetheless you could tell it was real and you let him keep the small fossil as a reminder of you until the next time you saw him.

Javier Escuella

Javier meets you when you’re down my the docks, trying to capture the sunlight and noticed him fishing.

Not wanting to disturb him you kept out of his hair until you heard him cheer loudly at a catch he managed to pull in. In your particular interest in animals, you couldn’t help but ask if you could take a photo of the fish he’d caught.

From then on the two of you became friends, often running into each other as you tried to capture landscapes and wildlife.

You’d always spend the day together and you’d show him how to use a camera while he showed you how to fish and play the guitar.

When you spent time apart you’d often write to each other to fill the gap. You’d always send pictures with little writing on the back of them while he sent you poems and songs that he wrote for you, promising to play them for you next time you’d meet.

In your personal journal you have the first picture you ever took of Javier, kept safe between the pages. He’s standing along the docks, facing the away from the water as he holds up a large sturgeon and a large smile.

You and Javier always stay in touch and after he told you of his chaotic and dangerous time in guarma he made light of it by telling you about all the different wildlife he saw while he was there.

Bill Williamson

Bill stumbles upon you in the wild by accident. He’s out scouting a lead when he ended up getting lost through the shrubbery and found you examining flowers closely.

When you told him you were a botanist he looked as if you’d just spoken a different language to him because he didn’t have a clue as to what that meant. Bill always made you laugh fondly at the confused look when you told him all the scientific names of flowers.

In Bill’s mind, a flower was a flower. There was purple flowers and blue flowers and even red ones but they didn’t have their own names.

The next time Bill ran into you he brought you what he thought was a bouquet of white flowers. Instead they were actually a species of weed that was poisonous when eaten but it didn’t stop you from smiling and hugging him which was the intended purpose.

In light of that incident Bill was actually curious about some plants, trying to learn about them more. When Bill went exploring with you he pointed out some of his favourites and you picked a few to put them in the brim of his hat for him to take him back to camp.

When you run into him again Bill tries to give you another flower, this time actually understanding the plant he’d picked was a Vanilla Flower Orchid or the Vanilla planifolia but he never learnt how to pronounce it unlike you.

With a high blush Bill placed the flower behind your ear and you pulled him into a hug, being careful not to crush the beautiful flower.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

I’ve found that lurking on ‘anti’ blogs gives me the same sort of anxiety feeling that I get from lurking on terf blogs or like conservative twitter accounts. This feeling that ‘oh no I feel like this person is wrong and doing harm’ and ‘what if they’re right and I’m wrong?’ Logically I know that antis don’t cause anywhere near the amount of harm those other ppl do (if any. and I think the fact that my brain seems to treat antis on par w bigots is interesting and concerning) and that these anxiety feelings are not very helpful in either case. But when someone challenges my worldview it feels really uncomfortable, and makes me want to resolve that discomfort by reaffirming my goodness and their wrongness. Which I realize is unhelpful and leads to b&w thinking and I really want to work on that, and I feel like fandom is a good place to start. So I guess I’m asking if you have any advice for building up distress tolerance for people having different opinions or worldviews?

These are really interesting and self-aware questions anon. And I do have a couple of bits of advice, I don't know how useful they are, because anxiety is a complex thing

The first is that I think it's useful not to think of TERF and Conservative blogs as being wrong in an objective sense. But instead think of them taking a different political stance from you. They probably are wrong about some facts, but that really isn't the point. The point is that they've chosen an approach to understanding society that blames ordinary people, as opposed to structures of power for problems and are not starting from a place of solidarity.

Framing politics as a choice - you choose to stand in solidarity with oppressed people around the world in order to collectively fight for a better world - rather than a question of right or wrong helps break away from black and white thinking. (And in particular it allows space for people you to disagree with right on facts, but that doesn't mean that their underlying world view is right).

For 1D - I think it can help to start with a worse case scenario - what would it mean if you were wrong? For me, I'd feel a bit foolish, but other than that it wouldn't really matter. I've been wronger in more important ways about celebrities (I used to think Joss Whedon was great). Part of the point of this thought exercise is to move back to a position where it's really normal to be wrong about celebrities. Because it is really normal to be wrong about celebrities.

To help with this I'd recommend avoiding anti-blogs - who by definition are very invested in the idea that being wrong about celebrities is a bad thing. Instead I'd recommend following chill blogs who disagree with you. People who are telling different stories about Harry and Louis, but don't think there's something wrong with people who disagree. Now this is the 1D fandom, and so those blogs are hard to find (and if anyone has any recommendations I'd love them), but they are worth looking for. Build tolerance for other worldviews by exposing yourself to them in a situation that doesn't reinforce the idea that being wrong is very high stakes.

[yakocchi]

Tonight, Love Me Kindly and Cruelly (Collection Event) // Count

t/n: The idiom is literally “Candy and Whip”, which is equivalent to the use of “Carrots and Sticks”. “Carrots and Sticks”, as in the idiom that people use to describe when one uses both the promise of a benefit and a punishment to manipulate someone to do something. random ex: a person says that if you let them stay at your house for a while, they’ll buy you a new phone... but if you reject them, they say they’re going to set your car on fire. well carrots and sticks don’t make for a pretty mental image so I changed it. lol

In common ikevam fashion, this is a collection event to coincide with the release of Faust’s Main Route. imo the route is doing a better job at showing his chara positively than Will’s route, but..... faust was never my type to begin with so u know LOL but im only on like chapter 12-ish anyway so yea nothing really significant has happened

anyway, i am pleasantly surprised that the Count got to partake in this one!! it might seem like a really long time since the last Count appearance under the context of this blog, but that’s only really bc ive sat out on covering Count-involved events (namely the AU scenario event w/ a shared route with Leo and the “caring for a child” collection event). i don’t think they’re super bad or anything (i actually like the latter for treading newer ground on event topics for once)…. im just chillin. ive never been a very active blog regardless 

Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

…

[Kara]: “ah-… Mn-…” In one of the rooms of the party venue— the air was stained obscenely by the breathless sighs of me and Count. With my arms pinned against the rippled sheets, my head grew lightheaded as he roughly kissed me over and over again. [Kara]: “nh- Why are…”

(Why has the Count become like this, I wonder? Until a little while ago, he was sweet and gentlemanly.)

Bewildered, I stared back at his golden irises, and a smile faintly seeped through his lips…

[Count]: “When I thought about you possibly being touched by those fingers, my blood ran cold. You do not mean to say that you do not understand my own feelings, I presume?” (‘Those fingers’…?)

…

I recalled something that had happened a few moments ago at the high society party we had been attending. I was conversing with one of the Count’s acquaintances when it happened:

[Gentleman]: “Oh, My Lady— Your exquisite ornament has shifted out of place, you know.” (Huh…?) Before I could fix it myself, the gentleman reached out his hand—

[Count]: “Indeed.” The Count, who had been standing next to me, hugged my shoulder with his arm as if to move me away from that hand. Then— [Count]: “How about this? Mhm, yes… Beautiful.” [Kara]: “Thank you, Count.” Of course, I also gave my thanks to the one who initially noticed it, but…

…

(Does he mean that time?) [Count]: “By the look on your face, it seems that you have finally realized it.” [Kara]: “Ah-…” Something resembling both sensuality and sharpness flashed within his eyes, and he firmly ripped the hair ornament off with a single swipe.

[Count]: “Well, then. I shall retrain this body— that the only thing that may touch you, are my fingers.” His fingertips trailed down my lips, my neck, my collarbones… before pulling down my dress, the fabric sliding off my breasts. Then, those very fingers touched the reddened peaks…

[Kara]: “-ngh, hah…. nh, ah-“ [Count]: “Do you make this same adorable reaction no matter who pinches you?” He pinched more forcefully, and my body leapt with a shudder. [Kara]: “ah-…! N-No, not, at all… Abel, please…” [Count]: “Really? I still have my doubts, given that your body so easily makes these dirty reactions...” While he played with my breasts, the fingertips of his other hand then slid inside the soaked part of me with a wet sound. [Kara]: “ahn… ngh, haah…”

[Count]: “I shall thoroughly train you, that the only thing that can bring you to ecstasy are these fingers. …And train you, all night.”

And just as he had proclaimed, indecent cries continued to fall from my lips throughout the night.

FIN

me thinking abt how this could’ve been the start to a veri sexi epilogue of a scenario event. next time, next time!!

this was kind of interesting bc the event actually places this one above leo’s (leo is the story before, which puts him at “4th place” out of 7 if we call arthur “1st”). this is weird bc even tho occasionally they’ll mess with story order not coinciding with character popularity if they feel that the story in question is more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), but putting leo’s story that early is rly weird. leo’s story being given before even mozart is like…. wow someone’s not too proud of that story LOL ill be honest tho…. the leo story is pretty basic, past stories in the leo sexi man canon considered. well i get it – leo is not the type to take out his negative emotions onto others, which is more or less related to the theme of this event.

this collection event is only a week long, so im wondering if they have anything interesting lined up. man i hope so…… clearly they kno ppl who like the count exist bc they bothered to move his story up. but where’s the respect!! (jk… partly)

“You really do get a lovely look on your face when you’re with the other manse residents. …I am, just a touch, jealous. Tonight, let me have you all to myself.”

“(…) …I want you to like me very, very much, so I work hard to achieve that. Though it may appear otherwise, I’m desperate (to have such).” – Artbook-based Gacha Card

as always, thanks for reading!

[jaskierswolf]

hi im thinking of hosting some kind of ace / aro / platonic kind of week in another fandom but im not completely sure how to do such a thing. i am ace (and probably aro) but ppl that have expressed interest in partaking that arent, say they arent sure how to write respectfully ace or aro content, and that maybe there should be some guidelines (the only one that really comes to mind is dont make it all 'without a romantic partner im lesser / incomplete'). thoughts?

Hello!

It depends how formal you want the event to be you could set up something like @thewitchertransweek which had prompts, a blog, and a discord. Oh and an AO3 collection. That encourages lots of people to get involved, and the prompts are great for inspiring different ideas.

When I've done things for ace and aro week in the witcher. It's been a personal thing. I've asked for prompts and encouraged my friends to write things too if they have time/energy. I've also met friends through it because people have reached out having read the fics and seen themselves represented for the first time.

In terms of guidelines and being respectful, my best advice is to read fics and books featuring ace/aro characters. Look up articles, wikis, other media written by ace/aro people, and honestly remember that it is a spectrum.

Ace is defined as a lack of sexual attraction. This has nothing to do with wanting sex, libido etc. You can be ace and still be sex positive. It's just not finding people sexually attractive. Alternatively, you can be ace and never want anything to do with sex, and reallly most things in between. Some people like it hypothetically but not involving them, others feel attraction sometimes but always. This is the same with aro, just with romantic attraction.

Look up a glossary of ace/aro identities. Tell different stories with different parts of the spectrum, have fun exploring how this can challenge your writing.

You are right though. Being ace/aro isn't all doom and gloom. I don't mind stories that have a character struggling with their ace/aro identity, but for me it's always more rewarding to see a character being supported if they are struggling, or just happy with who they are.

I hope this makes sense! If you have any more specific questions I'd be happy to answer!

_

Also a quick reminder that I'm taking prompts for Ace week next month if anyone want to send in any witchery ones! I still have spaces left 💜💚

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

k.taehyung/reader 

genre: arist!taehyung, painting!reader, parallel/horror universe

warning(s): violence, mannequins+paintings coming to life (bc ppl are scared of that), blood- but like red paint instead, horror/dread/action elements (i tried okay), bittersweet 

words: 20.3k 

One-shot | Two-shot | Series | Drabble | [Rated: Pg:15] 

Loosely based on Ib, an RPG Horror/Adventure game + Leia (Vocaloid)

synopsis: Taehyung, a freelance, abstract artist is in the middle of one of the worst art blocks known to mankind.  In an act of possible inspiration, he drags his best friend, Namjoon, to a new art gallery just opened.  Only, he didn’t know that his visit would result in him getting separated from his friend and thrust into a new gallery.  One he wasn’t familiar with in the slightest. Along with this mysterious new gallery, a collection of strange creatures lurking around every corner came with the unsettling territory. 

a/n: i literally started this in March of 2019.... I have no excuse for the wait other than my bad.  Regardless, Colorblind is FINALLY done and out! It’s obvs waayyy longer than I intended it to be back in 2019 when I could only pump out like 9k at max- it’s over double that now LOL. But that hopefully aint gonna stop y’all (pls, lmk what you thought/thnk, i’m so anxious about this one alsdjf)

“Here you are, gentlemen.  Enjoy your visit to the gallery,” the receptionist at the counter smiled as she would to anyone.  Handing over two pamphlets to the two men who stood in front of her.  One was dressed in white track pants, two stripes running down the legs.  A white, collared, button-up shirt with a tie exceptionally loose around his neck with a blue, track jacket with red and white stripes down the sleeve, matching his track pants.

The other man wore loose black pants around his hips.  A black and white vertical striped, sleeveless jersey with three buttons on the collar with a red cap placed backward on his faded orange-haired head.  

These two men were two Kim’s. Taehyung and Namjoon.  Taehyung works as a self-employed, freelance artist; throwing and brushing paint over a canvas in random ways and creating objects and places for his mind to be free in abstract ways.  Namjoon is a humbled journalist for a local news blog for his exceptional wording and phrasing on all sorts of topics.  

Taehyung had come to the new gallery opening not too far from his home in search of inspiration.  He had been in a bit of a slump lately, and with nothing to do and nothing worthwhile happening, he was desperate.  Namjoon tagged along because he was tasked with the job of writing a review of the new establishment and creating a small article to include in the next online publication.

“Welcome to the grand opening of The Gallery of Leia!”

Taehyung mumbled to himself as he read the title of the pamphlet given to him.  “Why Gallery of Leia?” He questioned the name as the receptionist answered promptly.

“Leia is the one surviving piece of an artist from way back when that survived a brutal fire.  In honor of its survival, the gallery was named as such.”  She said with a smile as Taehyung nodded and nudged Namjoon’s arm, who stood next to him.

“Let’s go,” he said as he walked inside, not trying to stick around for more conversation and holding up the line of people also trying to gain entry inside. Namjoon following him as he quickly scanned a the front of the pamphlet.  

The gallery was two stories in a decent squared size building.  It was quite the exercise trip in Taehyung’s opinion.  Sculptures were placed against walls or out in the open for rotational viewing pleasure.  Paintings and sketches were hanging, littering the walls for guests to see clearly.  All the different pieces from all sort of artists featured here was amazing, such a wide variety as Taehyung’s eyes scanned the names.  Some familiar, some not.

“Wow, this place is pretty busy,” Namjoon said as he looked around. Namjoon had pulled out a tablet from his side bag, turning on the large touch screen as he took the pen attached to the side of it and opened up a program for taking notes as he started scribbling.  Taehyung peeked over his shoulder.  

“You haven’t even seen any art yet.  Why are you already jotting stuff down?”  

“It’s always good to start an article with how packed or how empty a place is.  The more people there, the more popular or interesting to the masses it is, which normally leads to more pros than cons.  It’s like a first look into how interesting it may or may not be.”  He rambled off like he’s answered the question a million times.  Taehyung nodded with pouted lips.

“You’re such a workaholic.”  Namjoon rolled his eyes at the remark, placing the pen between his fingers as he held his tablet and lowered it to his side.

“Let’s go look around.” The gallery itself, aside from the art pieces inside it, was stark white.  White ceilings to match the white walls and tiled flooring in yet more, polished white.  The lights weren’t as strong as one would think for a gallery, but if they were any brighter the receptionist would need to hand out complimentary sunglasses along with pamphlets because of all the lights bouncing off and around from the white  interior.

Namjoon was busy looking at a large-scale sculpture of a red rose as Taehyung wandered around not too far from him.  He turned down a hall that was surprisingly void of any warm bodies. He was surprised to find an area that hadn’t been cluttered with people yet.  Though, he assumed it wasn’t all that odd considering the early morning hour.  

Along the left wall was a large, long canvas, easily engulfing a vast majority of the wall itself.  It also happened to be the only piece in this dead-end corridor.

Taehyung stood in front of the painting as he looked over it.  Trying to see each and every detail.  He was in awe of the detail and how much time it must have taken to even complete such a large painting.  The dedication and time served to it was admirable.

The painting gave off an eerie vibe.  A dark background with what seemed to be the space of a studio, a spacey and wide studio with canvas’s on walls, frames hanging, paints and easels littering the space leaking into a greater mass of a space with even more dark, distorted art. As he continued to look at it, he stopped to blink, reset his eyes and rub at them so he didn’t go crosseyed and get dizzy.

As Taehyung gazed at the whole of the masterpiece, Namjoon strode up to him.  He whistled lowly in an impressed awe.

“Damn. That's one dedicated, dead painter.”  He walked to the plaque underneath the frame, kneeling so he could read the title of the particular piece aloud.  “Parallel Reality. Painted in 1996 by-” he couldn’t finish because the hall suddenly darkened.  Namjoon and Taehyung both looked at the ceiling and the flickering lights before they blacked out completely. Leaving the room dark and quiet.

“A blackout?” Taehyung questioned. Namjoon stood up, walking back over to his friend.  

“We should go back to the front desk.”  Taehyung nodded as the two of them began the journey back, stepping carefully and squinting to make sure they wouldn’t run into any sculptures or walls.  All the while, never once running into another person.  In fact, the entire gallery was completely silent besides their footsteps.

“Where is everyone?”  Taehyung asked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.  

“I’m sure they’ve all gathered outside.  No point in staying in a dark gallery.”  The two made it to the front glass doors.  “It’s… dark outside?”  Taehyung looked out through the glass doors.  “It was just noon?”  Namjoon shook his head, pulling on the door, but the door refused to open.  “It’s locked!”  He grunted, yanking again, pushing and pulling on the door.  Nothing.  Namjoon sighed as he turned to Taehyung.  “Go look around, maybe someone is still here.  In the meantime, I’m going to try and get this door open.”

Taehyung nodded before he turned and walked back into the gallery.  The halls still dark, every window showing nothing but a dark, deep navy outside.  He walked to a window to look outside, maybe get a glimpse of what was going on.  But, nothing.  

He turned and walked away, but jumped when he heard someone banging on the glass of the window he had just left.  Running back, he could just barely make out the imprint of a wide handprint on the outside of the glass.  It made a chill run up Taehyung’s back. 

For a moment, he assumed it was Namjoon who had gotten out and was getting his attention to run to the front and get out.  So, he did, dashing to the entrance and when he didn’t see Namjon around any longer, he tried the door.  Still locked.  

He hissed as he whipped back around and went back to the window before he shook his head. As he walked around the gallery further, his eyes began adjusting to the darkness and eventually he was even able to make out some of the art pieces again.  

A painting of a black cat.  One of a man hanging upside down by his ankles.  A basket of fruit that he swore use to have an apple included in the basket.  The back of a woman dressed in nothing but red.  

He felt like he was walking in circles. More than ready to head back to just sit at the front until someone came- since someone had to at some point, he heard another set of footsteps.  At first he thought it may be Namjoon coming back to find him; however, the footsteps were too light to be his friends- he always was a bit of a heavy stomper. Taehyung turned and headed towards the steps as they seemed to move further from him instead of towards him.  

“Hey!”  He called into the echoey halls of the dark gallery. The steps halting momentarily before they started running.  So, Taehyung sprinted after them.  “Where are you going?!”  He yelled as he ran into an open, large venue.  He looked around as he ran, seeing no one around.  “Where are you?!”  He shouted before he stepped in a puddle.  No, not a puddle.  A puddle would only be an inch or two deep.  It surely wouldn’t be enough to engulf him entirely.  

Now, Taehyung was sinking.  Drowning slowly into the Abyss of the Deep before the lights flicked back on and the murmurs of people resumed.

-x-x-x-

When Taehyung woke up, his head was throbbing, his mind was fuzzy and his conscience more than a little confused.  Laying on his chest on the floor like a jersey-dressed starfish, he groaned as he pushed himself up to support his torso on his elbows.  His hair was messier than before as his bangs threatened to poke his eyes.  Looking back and forth, he was in a hallway.  The corridor was dark, a hint of purple and indigo surrounding the entire room.  Walls, carpet, ceiling everything was the same shade of purple.

Obviously, the polar opposite than the pure white of everything previously.

Rolling onto his back and pushing himself to stand, he wobbled as he held his head and tried to will away the headache that was beginning to slowly lessen.  

Going backward before trying to even round the corner down the way, he found a single wooden door at the dead-end of the hall.  Twisting the knob, he entered the small room.  The room was square, red and on the back wall was a single large painting of a woman.  Her eyes were closed and her face was blank.  Her hair was somehow painted off the canvas, down past the frame and onto the wall like it was real hair falling out of the portrait.  

In front of that portrait was a single small wooden table with a vase.  In that vase was a single, blue rose.  A rose with 10 large, vibrant petals and a vine that lacked thorns.  Taehyung had never seen a blue rose before- well, not a real, authentic one anyways. Everyone’s seen the fake, painted blue, red, pink, yellow, purple and whatever other color roses in dollar stores before. Thinking it was manmade, he examined it further, putting his hands on the table to close inspect.  He became far more interested in the flower the more he looked at it.  

It drew him in.  The color captivated him and the aura around it seemed almost important and he felt the slightest urge to pick it up.  Maybe he should, maybe it would be fine.  Reaching out slowly, he drew the rose from the vase and something akin to a jolt of electricity ignited his fingertips. It felt like he had somehow forged an instant connection with this flower as soon as the end of the vine left the crystal clear water of the vase.

Call him crazy, but he almost felt fearful of putting it back and leaving it behind.

The vase on the table cracked as Taehyung’s attention shifted to it from the rose.  Crack after crack spread on the vase before it burst into pieces.  Taehyung hunched backward to shield his face with his arms from the exploded glass.  Shards of glass sat on the table and fell to the floor as the water pooled around the wooden surface and continued to spread as it began to drip off the table’s edge onto the carpet.

“I guess, I’ll take it along.”  He muttered to himself as he turned his back.  As he exited the room, he failed to notice the woman’s portrait shift.  Her eyes opened wide- almost insane- as she smiled.  PItch black paint writing appearing under her frame in smeared text.  

WHEN THE ROSE WILTS, SO TOO WILL YOU WILT AWAY

Taehyung left the room and the hallway he returned to had changed from what he last remembered. There were random letters on the ceiling and floor, spelling something that Taehyung couldn’t make out in the dark hall.  At his feet, he felt himself kick at something when he moved to step forward.  Picking it up, he held a small blue key in his palm.  

Going further down the hall, he came to a forked path.  He could continue going down the hall or take the staircase he that presented itself to him.  The stairs lead up higher than he could see with two paintings on either side of the entrance. Two landscapes of a mountain range; one normal and the other an identical copy, only negative scaled.  Coming to a decision, he took the hall just to cover the ground floor.  Coming to just another dead end, he returned and took to the stairs up.  

At the top of the stairs was a door.  Trying it, it was locked. 

“Naturally,” he huffed.  Trying the key he had kicked with his shoe and picked up not too long ago, it fit perfectly and unlocked the door as he stepped through it.  The door slammed shut and locked on it’s own behind him.  The key becoming useless since their was no keyhole on this side of the door.  He dropped it, leaving it behind. 

He was in a library now.  It was a small room, maybe not even considered a library.  Just a room with bookshelves and books.  Like a compact study without a desk.

He didn’t recognize a lot of the books- which was surprising considering he did have a liking for reading.  He stopped scanning his fingers over the spines of books when among all the thick, sophisticated books was a tiny, thin spine of a bright red children's book.

Pulling it out from it’s snug place on the shelf, he held it in his hands.  It was a short, wide book with a picture colored very messily in what he could only assume was crayon on the cover of it.  Sitting on the ground, his back against the bookcase, he opened it’s thick, card-stock, wobbly pages.

The book was about a painter.  He had been painting his whole life, so long in fact that he started to blend his world with reality.  He would give his paintings ‘life’ and he’d treat them like they were truly alive.  In his mind, they were his friends.  

A painting of a lion toy no bigger than the size of a book, stills of sentient objects like a fan, and even paint brushes contained souls with a conscience and mind to this painter. Even a can of pressurized air that would ‘bully’ or tease the others when they least expected it was ‘alive’, leaving the painter to rip that painting of air up for it’s rotten behavior.

It ends with the painter creating a portrait of someone, something he wasn’t familiar with painting.  People weren’t his strong suit and as such, he was left in isolation for most of his life. His devotion to painting left him alone in reality because he ‘saw’ nothing else.  Thus, he created his own friend in a painting of a woman that didn't exist.  When she ‘came alive’ he even grew to fall in love with her.  The last few pages of the story were torn out, so Taehyung would never know the ending.  

“Who would fall in love with something they knew was fake?  Something painted would never come alive,” he muttered.  Considering the painter in the story to be an utter fool.

Taehyung suddenly jumped, children’s book sliding off his legs and snapping shut as the door to his left unlocked with a loud clack.  He slowly got up, picking the book back up taking it with him as he put it back on the shelf.  The door that unlocked started to whine.  The handle was rusty sounding as something from the outside started turning it.  

In a very logical fit of panic, Taehyung rushed and grabbed the thickest book he could find and held it at the ready.  Absolutely ready to whack whatever weirdo came into this room, knock them out (with luck), restrain them and then question where the hell he was. That, or a hit and run would work too.  He’d figure out which suggestion when the time came in a few moments.

The turning of the knob halted.  Stopped for so long that Taehyung thought whatever it was had gone away.  Lowering his book, he squinted his eyes at the door.  It was quiet, all he could hear was his breathing with the occasional nervous gulp of his.  

There was only but another beat of silence before chaos erupted.  

The door busted open, nearly ripping off it’s handles.  Taehyung, with a short, shocked scream, stumbled back as two things threw themselves into the room.  One was a woman, or rather half a woman.  Long brown hair cascaded down her head and her torso was decked in a red turtleneck.  Her face had a twisted demeanor etched into what would probably be a beautiful face otherwise.  From her waist down was nothing but a picture frame.  Her lower half didn’t exist and was replaced with a black void background and frame with gold edges.  It was like some horror effect that dragged around behind her everywhere she crawled. 

The second was an actual woman.  Legs, arms, chest and all.  Dressed in ruined overalls, a long sleeved white shirt with yellow stripes up the arms.  Tacky, torn brown boots on her feet as she stomped and kicked away at the woman in the frame.  She was wielding... a stick?  Or what looked like what may be part of what was once another picture frame.  End jagged and just asking for someone to get a nasty splinter.

The woman in the frame hissed at her like a dog as her clawed hands moved to drag her across the floor towards the actual woman’s legs.  The framed lady moved faster than Taehyung imagined was possible.  Dragging her half body across the floor and slithering with an absurd amount of grace like a snake.

The lady in the frame latched onto the woman’s leg causing her to in turn repeatedly kick at the frame’s head with her opposite foot.  The frame screamed as she was kicked against a bookshelf.  Books fell, toppling onto the frame as she screeched.  However, her insistent screeching silenced when the real woman took the jagged end of the broken frame she wielded and thrust it into the frames exposed and vulnerable head.

Red ‘paint’ erupted from the frame like a fountain before it became completely limp.  The woman shook the frame piece around, whipping it like a sword after a battle to remove the blood of the slain.  Then, the woman looked over her shoulder at Taehyung. He froze in place, his shoulders jumping at him finally being noticed.

Your eyes widened as they locked onto Taehyung’s. Shocked to see him there.  Your eyes were an unusually bright colored abyss with such a dull contrasting look in them.  He wasn’t sure if he could even see his reflection if he were standing right in front of you.  

You gasped lightly as if being hit with some sort of realization before turning to face him fully. Even if you were a good 10 feet from him he flinched. More than a little bit intimidated with you still holding your broken frame piece and witnessing you pretty much kill what he would label a Feminine Frame Monster.

“You’re the one everyone is looking for…” You muttered to herself.  There was a commotion beyond the door that was hanging pathetically onto its frame.  From down the hall, scraping and screeching were heard in a humming echo. You looked over your shoulder before you moved towards Taehyung, looking at him and grabbing his bicep with little hesitation. You yanked his arm to signal that you were clearly going to be ordering him around.

Taehyung felt like a doll being pulled around by a child.  You were shorter than he expected for someone who just took out a monster as he peered over your head, like a child standing as high as possible to peek out a window. Your grasp on him loosened as you moved to grab his wrist instead.  You pulled him slightly again, snapping him out of whatever daze he was in as he finally looked at you again.

“We need to go.  More of them are coming, and unless you want to end up painting fodder, you’ll follow me.”  He looked down at you as you finally noticed the rose peeking out of his jacket pocket.  You gasped, pointing at it with your other hand that whipped around the red stained frame piece.  “Hide that!” You seethed as Taehyung’s hand immediately shoved itself into his pocket to cover the rose before she began to run out of the room, Taehyung in tow; against his will, might he add.

The halls he was being dragged through were inconsistent and almost gave him a headache. First running through purple halls, then red filled with empty black picture frames.  Zooming through green halls that had arms shooting out of them, claws skimming over Taehyung’s jacket and reaching for his rose.  He pulled it from his pocket and held it to his chest to keep it safe from anyone- thing- trying to grab it.  Finally, your running came to a stop as you swung open a door before shoving him by his shoulder. You slammed the door securely shut before locked it.  

When the door was shut, Taehyung took a moment or two to look around as he tried to regain his breath.  

He was in a blue room now.  Two bookshelves with almost nothing on them and a small table next to a violet couch.  The table held a cerulean vase on it with water filled inside almost to the point it overflowed.  On the back wall was only one giant frame with a pure white puzzle glued one the inside of it.

“A milk puzzle?” He questioned more to himself than anything else. You sighed when it was quiet and then collapsed onto the blue carpeted floor.  Catching Taehyung’s attention, he panicked as he ran to your side, kneeling beside you and debating on whether or not he should put his hand on your shoulder. You panted and pushed your forehead against the door. Hair hiding your face as it hung, falling off your heaving shoulders. “Are you.. Alright?” Taehyung asked slowly- cautiously.

You only nodded as you finally caught your breath.  Sitting up straighter, taking one last breath to even your breathing before you finally looked up at Taehyung.  He knelt higher than your head level as he confirmed that he indeed couldn’t find his reflection in your eyes he stared into.

“You’re the intruder that everyone is looking for in the Gallery, aren’t you?” She questioned.  He blinked in confusion.  

“Intruder?”

“You don’t belong here and you need to get out of here as soon as you can.  This isn’t a place for someone like you.” Taehyung wasn’t understanding anything.  You held your hand out towards him, almost asking for something.  “Your rose. You still have it right?” He nodded as he showed the rose he still held cradled to his chest. He was thankful the vine was thornless, or else his palm would have been riddled with small, painful punctures. 

For some reason, he felt like his rose would be safe with you, so he easily handed it over. You took it and looked over it’s petals.  Admiring the shade of blue, you shifted her gaze to look from beautiful azure petals and into Taehyung’s eyes.  “What’s your name?” You asked.

“Taehyung,” he answered instinctively. You nodded at the sound of it, committing it to memory. “Yours?” 

“I’m Y/n,” you curtly told him as you lifted the rose back into the conversation.  “Do you know how important this rose is?” He shook his head.  You sighed as you moved to face him fully, sat relaxed on the floor. Lifting your arm to bring you opposite hand to touch one of the petals your fingertips dusted around a single soft petal.  You held it with delicacy before your grip changed and your nails gripped and plucked it off the stem.  

Taehyung gasped, a pain shooting through his chest as his hand flew up to grip his shirt. His one-knee kneeling position changed as both knees hit the carpet. 

It felt like his heart just skipped a beat and almost seemed to stall for a moment.  Shaken up, he wasn’t sure why, but it felt almost harder to breathe?  Air came more difficult to take and his energy felt zapped.  The one petal you had pulled off fluttering to the ground at his knees.

You plucked another one, the second petal fluttering to the floor to join the first.  More pain shot through him again as he found himself bracing himself forward, the hand that wasn’t clenching around the front of his shirt, falling in front of him to join his knees on the carpet.  It felt like someone was wrapping a rope around his chest and squeezing the life out of him.  Crushing his ribs and lungs suffocating him.

“What,”  he gasped, “are you doing... to me?” He sputtered as he coughed.  He heard you move before you were at his back, picking him up and bringing him weakly to his feet.  You practically dragged him to the couch, his feet dragging on the carpet the whole way before he fell into the cushions.  

As you stood over him, you pluck another two petals off and he let out small, silent coughs of protest. Whatever you were doing, he was ready for you to stop. He really thought he was dying. 

“Watch,” you told him as the dark bags under his eyes materialized.  You walked to the crystal water-filled vase.  Taking his rose that had lost four petals already, you placed the stem over top of the vase and dropped it inside.  The stem hit the water and immediately Taehyung’s eyes widened as he watched the petals regrow right before his eyes.  

The rose seemed to glow with a calming, almost reassuring, blue hue for but a moment before the pain in his body stopped.  The pangs of hurt disappeared from within his eyes as he let go of his chest and the pain faded.  It was like the pain was just a hallucination.  You slowly withdrew the rose from the vase and handed it back to him as you move to stand in front of him. He had moved from laying in pain on the couch to sitting himself up properly.

Taehyung gently took the rose from you.  “When the rose wilts,” you start.

“So too will I…” Taehyung finishes, unsure on how he knew how to finish the phrase. It was like it was just engraved on his tongue as he said it. The dawning realization that this flower was tied to his life grew into his mind as he spun it between his thumb and forefinger.  “But, I-I don’t understand.”  He shook his head.  You moved to sit beside him, ready to answer whatever questions he has.  “What’s going on? Where the hell am I?”

“You’re in the gallery.”

“No,” he denied curtly, lifting his hand in denial.  “I was in the gallery.  Now, I’m here.”

“You were in the real gallery.  Somehow, you got sucked into this one.  The gallery you were in isn’t where you are now and frankly I don’t know how you got here.  This is a fabricated reality created from a man’s paintbrush.  A human shouldn’t be able to come here.” You got up and grabbed a small, face down picture frame from the top one of the small, dusty, bookshelves.  Bringing it back with you to the couch, you handed it to him.  

Taehyung recognized the man in the photo. “I know this artist. He died a long time ago.” Though his name escaped the young artist.  

“Guena. That’s the pen name he used in his profession.” You looked around at the small room.  “This room, and all the other rooms too.  Every painting and creature here was created by him and his desire to create souls for his non-living creations,” you told him. “But, things are different now. Everything is distorted,” you scowled.  

Just like the picture book he found.  The creations were given life by the hands of the creator then the creator died, leaving all of his ‘lives’ behind.  If that were so, then it would be no wonder why everything would begin to fall apart. It was akin to a circus without a Ring Master. Taehyung furrowed his brows before he placed the photo beside him on the cushions.

He looked up to you, into your dull eyes that somehow held the most breathtaking color.  

“How long have you been here?” He asked.

“I’ve been here since the beginning and I will remain here until the end.”  

“Do you have a rose, like I do?” He felt like he knew the answer, but nonetheless less you shook your head.  He knew what he wanted to really ask, but he didn’t know how to ask it- what words should he use?  To you, who he had just met in the most fictional turn of events that he still can’t wrap his head around.  You were nothing like him and he knew that.

“I’m a painting, Taehyung.”

When you told him the truth he was already beginning to suspect, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to say he still internally panicked.  Something that looks so human, yet wasn’t at all.  You were nothing but brush strokes and shapes somehow given life.  You probably crawled straight out of a frame too.

You saw the emotion flash through his eyes and you were almost jealous of how his eyes could change.  Unlike yours that were stuck, his could tell you a whole story without the use of words.  Anyone in this place could tell immediately he was human because of those eyes. 

In respect to him and his unease, you made sure to keep your distance.  You truly weren’t a threat.  All you wanted was for him to get out, and to get out safely.  You’ve been watching your world fall apart since Guena died.  Every creature that was alive was losing their ‘mind’ and it was only a matter of time before it started to infect you too.  It was a disease that humans didn’t need to get involved in.

“I’m going to be your escort out of here.  With your lack of reaction when in the face of danger, you’d probably get yourself killed in an instant.”  You moved back to the door where you sat on the floor, you're back against the wood as you looked at him across the room on the couch.  “You rest for now and make sure to keep your rose safe with you.  This room is safe, so you don’t need to worry about something happening.”

Then, you stopped talking.  Taehyung almost felt guilty.  You were a painting, and you couldn’t show all the emotions that the could.  You weren’t actually real after all, so it was normal to assume you had a expressional limit.  He watched as you sat against the door completely silent and still with closed eyes.  He was unsure if you were really sleeping or if you even could.  

He looked at the rose in his hands.  This rose is so important and he didn’t know how to fathom what the hell was going on. It all happened too fast and he couldn’t begin to process it all. 

He missed Namjoon as he knew that he was probably still wandering around the real gallery looking for him. He wondered if Namjoon managed to get out since he wasn’t at the front or if the lights kicked back on and he was alright.  He lifted and looked at the photo of Guena beside him again.  

It was odd.  That was the man who somehow created this world and he was also the same painter who created Leia. The painting that gave the real gallery it’s name.  Taehyung never got to see that painting in the gallery- not that he was able too see much to begin with, and he’s not so sure he wanted to at the moment.  

Taehyung was a sympathetic and empathetic person- always had been and probably always will be.  The line between the two blurred in his case.  So, when he looked at you, he felt a sense of guilt as you kept away from him.  You spoke curtly, yet kindly.  You didn’t seem to have an ulterior motive and you seemed trustworthy enough; especially compared to that framed lady from before.  

You brought him here after all. A secluded room and you didn’t attack him or take his rose.  You plucked four petals off his rose, but then turned around and healed him. You even returned it, he knew it was all to prove the point of its importance.  You weren’t going to hurt him and he believed that with his whole heavy-beating heart.  

“Y/n? Are you sleeping?”

Your eyes remained closed, but you answered. “No. I can’t.  I’m a painting, remember?”

“Okay. Then, I have a question,” he said as you slid your eyes open.  Looking at him from your place by the door.  “That thing you killed?” Did you kill it? Could paintings die?  “What was it?”

“They’re called, The Ladies.”

“They? There’s more?” Taehyung’s voice slightly quivered at the idea of more hissing, hacking, floor-crawling, psycho half ladies being out there.  

You nodded.  “What you saw was only one of many Ladies.  She was a Lady in Red.  There are also Ladies in Green and Ladies in Blue.  They’re more common than most.  About as common as mannequins.”

“Excuse me? Mannequins?” You looked at him as a shiver ran up his body.  Goosebumps littered his covered skin.  “I fucking hate mannquins,” he seethed unconsciously to himself.  The look he put on his face was that of disgust and pure anguish and yet somehow twisted into an almost comical look.  You almost smirked at his foul language and facial cues.

Your smirk twisted and soon you burst out into laughter at his face that just seemed so comical to you.  A face someone like you couldn’t pull off because you were fake.  He looked at you as you laughed at him.  The tension that was in the air seemed to be shattered like a nail being driven into a pane of glass.  Soon, Taehyung was laughing at you laughing at him.  Your fit ended as you smiled and shook your head, calming down.  

Taehyung was more than happy to try and get a small nap in now that he knew that you weren’t completely devoid of emotion.  Someone, fake or not, who can laugh and smile like that surely wasn’t a bad person.  

-x-x-x-

Taehyung was startled from his small rest when a tremor shook the room.  Panicking as he sat straight, rim-rod up, you were already on your feet and looking at the door.  You half expected something to charge inside, even when this place was supposed to be somewhere to rest up and be away from any sort of harm. Taehyung flung his legs off the sofa and stood up so quickly he had a wave of dizziness hit him as he held his head and staggered.  Shaking it off, he was at your side, standing just a step behind you.

“What the hell is that?” He lightly asked, like if he was too loud something would hear him.  You just flexed your arm, the hand around the hardened piece of art frame you kept continuing to wield tightening.  “It feels like the ground is moving,” he looked down at his feet.  Like the carpet beneath him was beating in microbursts.

“It’s a distortion wave.  This happens the weaker this world gets and that means it’s only going to get that much worse outside.” You looked at him. “I hope you have some strength in those arms of yours, because you might have to use it.” Taehyung hated the thought of violence, even if it was against figuratively inanimate objects that weren’t supposed to exist . They weren’t alive, but they were still able to die.  His toes curled at the thought of it. You saw the unease in his eyes before looked back at the door, rotating your wrist and twisting around your weapon. “Just stick close to me and run like your life depends on it.”

The lack of an additional ‘because it will’ was an approved choice on Taehyung’s ears.

You opened the door and outside it was a madhouse.  Even more paintings coming alive.  Some stuck in their frames as they clawed at the air and hissed.  Distorted in sharp and blurred strokes as they swiped.  Ghastly hands and objects plunged from walls and hung from the ceiling.  Mannequins moved far faster than previously and he could hear the hissing and scraping of frames on the floor from the Ladies as they drug themselves across the floor like lethal roaches.

You bolted out of the safe room, Taehyung hot on your heels as he stayed immediately behind you.  You dashed down halls, staying in the center away from the walls and anything reaching for you.  You kept Taehyung at your side, pulling him to and fro away from anything that could harm him if he got too close.  You rounded corners in rushed steps or slides as Taehyung occasionally grabbed the back of your overalls to keep you from skidding into the walls from your unstoppable momentum. You swung and hacked at anything that came close and kept them at bay the best you could with your frame.

Taehyung pointed ahead of you, a set of doors ahead.  

“Go into one of those!” He wasn’t sure where he got off telling you where to go. Especially since he was literally the worse qualified person to do so. You didn’t seem to argue back though, so he continued. “The, uh, the yellow one!” He yelled over the chaos.  You just looked back at him slightly over your shoulder, brows creased.

“Which one is the yellow one?!”  You shouted as he slightly stumbled before he grabbed your wrist and took off, running faster and ahead of you before he stopped at a door of brilliant yellow, pulled it open and pushed you inside, slamming it closed. The room was empty save for a single mirror on the back wall.  Thankfully, yellow seemed to be a pretty safe choice.

Taehyung could always trust yellow. 

“Y/n,” he called as he still held your wrist in his hand and you were hunched over.  You weren’t alive, but you seemed unwell.  “What’s wrong?” He looked at the skin under his hand that showed with the fabric of your long sleeve pushed up your wrist.  He gasped silently when he saw it’s complexion shift into a distortion of ugly, muddle colors before vanishing as quickly as it came.  “What was that?” He shook his head. “No, hold on.  Different question.  Can you not see color?”

“No, I can’t.” You stood back up, yanking your wrist out of his grip.  You looked at your skin as you hissed.  The distortion was starting to hit you and the stages would eventually progress into a problem- but he didn’t need to know that.  “I was painted as portrait by a lonely, selfish painters.  He didn’t think to give me the ability to see color so, I can’t see colors or tell them apart.” You shook your wrist out. “Is that a problem?” 

Taehyung jolted. You were clearly touchy on the topic. He cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Uh, well not really . I guess if you have me, I can point out colors for the both of us.  Why didn’t you tell me you were colorblind though?  It would’ve been pretty useful to know before we started running for our lives through some fucked-up haunted house reality check.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.” You sighed.  You had made it this far without relying on the colors you couldn’t tell apart.  Why would now be any different?  You couldn’t even see the color your body or clothes were- if they had color to them at all. For all you knew, you were all black and white and grey. You walked to the back wall and stood in front of the mirror there, frowning as Taehyung came up behind you.  He was as black and white as you were in your eyes.  

“So, you can’t see any color?” He touched his shirt, opened his jacket and pulled his headband.  He pulled your hair up dramatically and motioned to yourself as a whole in the mirrors reflection. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all,” you confirmed.  “I can conceive the idea of colors, but I’ve never had a proper need to see or tell them apart.  I know when something is a threat and I know when something is not. That’s all that really matters here.” Your indifference was something Taehyung- a painter- couldn’t comprehend.  What kind of painting can’t see their own colors? Wouldn’t that be painful or frustrating at the very least?

“Your shirt is yellow and white,” Taehyung spoke. You looked at his reflection with raised brows.  “Your overalls are faded and nearly ruined, but they’re dark blue and your boots are brown.  Your hair is really pretty and your eyes are too.” He described your outfit to you like you were a child, but he meant well. 

Just saying the color of your clothes didn’t help you grasp the concept of what it really looked like aside from the range of grey and white and black you saw through your eyes. “Maybe that doesn’t matter, but I thought you’d like to at least now,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly as you pulled at your sleeves, fixing and adjusting them to cover your arms properly again.  So, that light shade of grey- nearly white- was yellow? “I've never actually learned what color is what to my eyes,” you told him.  “It’s nice knowing at least one color,” you whispered more to yourself than anything.

So, it did bother you. Taehyung felt something swell like pride in his chest as he was acting the role of teacher.

If it were any other situation and if you were a person instead of a painting, he’d be glad to teach you all the colors he could. He felt it was his duty as an artist- freelance or not- to educate those about all the corners of art.  However, you weren’t real and he wasn’t at home in his studio, but in a haunted gallery of danger.  

Taehyung stepped away from you as he made his way back to the front of the room and the yellow door. He put his ear to the door, not hearing much of anything outside anymore. He hoped that you and he were able to give them the slip- as obvious as a tactic as that was. When he tried the doorknob, however, it didn not twist.  Jammed or locked, he knocked his forehead against the yellow wood in frustration.

“Of course,” he groaned before he turned to see you still standing in front of the mirror in the back of the room.  “Y/n, the door is locked. Unless we have another way out, we’re stuck in here.” He announced, making his way back to you as you seemed to finally break out of your own reflection and look around.  

“There’s got to be something we can trigger to open the door or another way out.  Just look around,” you told him.  You started wandering the room, but Taehyung only stood still, crippling his chin in thought and tapping his toes.  The room was completely empty, what could he possibly miss if nothing was in the room except a single, wall mounted mirror?

He thought of all the cheesy cliches like a floor tile trigger or a secret compartment in one of the four walls of ht boxed room.  However, he wasn’t sure if he had the patience to test out those ideas. 

Taehyung stood in front of the mirror, looking at his own reflection that scowled back towards him in thought.  He scurried away from the mirror in a haste as he yelped when the glass cracked.  Splitting down the center in crooked, ugly cracks and small splinters of glass falling from the mirror.  Your ear picked up on the continuous cracking of the mirror’s glass, unlike Taehyung and before he knew what was happening, you were yanking on his shirt and jacket collar. He choked slightly at you pulling him away from it completely as it shattered.

Bursting from the inside out, glass shot forward before raining down to the hard tile of the room.  What was left behind wasn’t the wall behind the mirror, but a matte black door with a sign hanging on the center of it. 

‘PASSAGE’

“Is that our way out?” He asked skeptically as he stood back up and brushed off his clothes of any stray shards that clung to him.  Looking back, the yellow door you both had rushed through had disappeared.  Nothing, but this black door and the walls remained.  He huffed. “Guess that answers that, huh. Wha- hey!” He called as you had already started opening the black door to enter it.  “What if it’s dangerous in there?!”

“There’s no other option,” you told him, pushing the door open before stepping into the same, thick blackness the door represented.  “Stay here if you’re so scared,” you sarcastically teased as you stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, the artist was hot on your tail inside.

The two of you walked through the black hall that stretched from the door you both entered, Taehyung behind you as he grew in more in nerves.  There were no lights and the light front he doorway was long gone behind his back.  He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face and he felt like he was losing his mind.

He could only hear your footsteps, his footsteps and the sound of your sharpened frame weapon dragging across the ground that you had taken from your belt loop as soon as the darkness became thick enough to warrant a twinge worry.

The air in the ever stretching corridor became so thick it was hard to catch his breath as he moved to grab your wrist for guidance.  Then, giggling began echoing from every direction.  Bouncing off what might be a nearby walls and drilling directly into his head. Giggling that mimicked creepy doll sound effects in horror movies, only so much worse. You, unsurprisingly, weren’t phased by the verbal taunts- Taehyung, however, was.

You could feel the trembles in his fingers around the wrist of yours he held so tightly.  You twisted your wrist, freeing it from his grasp for a moment and you could physically feel his panic the moment his fingertips left your skin. He was quick to calm down when you shot your arm back and grabbed around his hand instead.

Taehyung only grew more and more nervous as the darkness didn’t seem to end.  There was nothing in front of him or behind him to act as a beacon of any sort of hope that it would eventually come to a brightly lit finish.  Not even your presence he knew was there was any comfort to him.  It felt like the darkness was ebbing away at his sanity and choking him. 

In the midst of his silent anxiety, he thought he felt something whisper along the back of his neck.  He let out a small, strangled noise of startled protest as he unconsciously ripped his hand away and out of yours.  His panic set in tenfold now that he had no idea where you were anymore.  

He reached out in front of him in a frenzied panic as he waved his arms around in front of himself like a crazy person. He was sure if he was in light or if someone could see him, they’d think him completely bat-shit insane.  No matter where he reached or how hard he searched, he couldn’t find you. He couldn’t even hear you anymore.

Your footsteps were gone along with the frame dragging and he couldn’t hear anything aside from his own hiccuped gasps of air.  A horrible humming filled his ears and he quickly brought his palms up to the sides of his head, covering his ears to try and block out the noise.  It only seemed to intensify though, as if he had cupped around the humming and shoved it directly against his eardrums.

His knees wobbled and his footing staggered before his knees finally hit the ground.  The hard ground that was below his feet changed the moment his knees collided with it.  

Water was running along the hard ground that now felt like tile. If he ran his fingers along the floor, he would be able to trace the groves of cement and glue holding the pieces of breakable flooring together. He wasn’t able to properly process it in the overwhelming state of mind he was currently becoming more and more trapped in.  

The water that seeped into his pants drew higher and higher before engulfing his knees, thighs and eventually coming to reach his waist. His hands stayed covered over his ears as he shuttered and shook his head back and forth- trying to chalk it all up as another nightmare.  He’d wake up on another couch any moment in a room that you had taken him too.  This was just his mind playing trick on him- wasn’t it? 

The humming grew louder and louder before it went completely silent. The shift in noise to nothing was too sudden; uncomfortably sudden.  He should be relieved that the horrible, horrible sound that drilled into his head had stopped, but he was only accompanied by the newfound silence with a chill running up his spine and staying in the base of his neck .

Taehyung couldn’t move.  He shook and trembled, waist deep in cold water.

Was this what insanity felt like? Was he really losing his mind?

Then he remembered.  He was finally able to move again when he remembered his rose.  The flower that was somehow keeping him up and kicking. He moved his hands from his ears and began to frantically pat around his body.  His chest, his hips and thighs. In and out of pockets. He couldn’t find it.  He thought he had already reached his maximum panic level, but he was oh so wrong.  

He lost his rose and he felt like he was near his breaking point.  He hated that it affected him so much in both a mental and physical sense. Taehyung had normally defined himself as a more or less tough person to break down in more cases. 

He hardly had time to adjust to the life threatening new world he found himself in with art coming to life to kill him. Not to mention that his life was tied to a blue flower and he was dependent on a painting for safety.  

Taehyung was literally walking through his own personal nightmare. Who wouldn’t start losing their marbles after all that? 

His ducked down head shot up when he thought he heard something drop into the flooded flooring. He swore he heard the water ripple as it sounded like someone was walking, or dragging their feet through the water.  The sound of moving water echoed and he couldn’t pinpoint from which direction whatever was around him was moving.  Then the water pushed up his legs like something pushed the water towards him and he froze again.

He felt a breath blow against his forehead, his hair blowing in small, annoying strands that tickled his eyebrows and forehead. Whatever was wading in the water beforehand, was now right in front of him.

His mouth opened like he was going to scream, but nothing came out before the room erupted in bright lights.  He flinched under the extreme difference, the humming coming back to drill into his skull as fluorescent lights lined the ceiling above him.

When he was able to pry his eyes open, they glued themselves open at the sight of the creature in front of him.  It was… he couldn’t even begin to explain what it was.  

It looked like it had the basic shape of a person, but the limbs were far too long and lanky and it was engulfed in a thick looking, black tar that oozed and dripped from it’s appendages.  It’s head was also shaped like a humans, but turned completely sideways. The side of it’s head parallel with the floor as that same, thick blackness dripped from it’s chin that pointed directly to the left.  The mouth was nothing but a white circle in the middle of its face with black dripping between it’s ‘lips’ like jail bars.  

Whatever it was, it was horribly ugly and Taehyung thought his mind was distorting. The space around the creature seemed crackly- like tv static.  

The artist couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t flee.  He couldn’t even scream.  But it could. It could move, it could groan and moan, it could scream.  And it did.  

The mouth opened further into an elongated oval and a set of eyes showed themselves in small, crescents with the ends pointing to the left towards their chin on their crooked head.  The shrill shriek it let out made Taehyung’s bones rattle under his skin, like someone had just run a xylophone stick across his ribs.

It had brought it’s long, thin, dripping arms up as it seemed to ready lunge at the young, fear-stricken artist.  It screeched once more before it began to lunge, but it was immediately stopped in it’s tracks before it could do any sort of physical harm.  

The screech was cut short, as the head- in fact- the entire torso of the creature was pushed down by something.  It fell face first into the water at Taehyung’s knees as a long, golden strip of a picture frame stuck out of the back of it’s head.  

Red paint leaked out of the creatures head as it lay still and motionless in the water, dying the flooded area a shade of crystal pink. The smell wasn’t what he expected- what he expected to smell like iron, blood and death instead smelt of a flower shop, honey and lemonade.  The monster with a frame in the back of it’s head smelt like summer. 

Was it… dead?

Then he heard more footsteps, however with the lights on and eyes properly adjusted now, he could see exactly where they were coming from and who.  It turns out that somehow he had made it into a room- a small cube area that had no windows and only one door that was now thrown open.  Through that door, your body was slouched against the frame out of breath- once again ironic since you weren’t alive- and dripping blue drops of paint from your chin.

He was speechless- no longer from fear, but from shock.  

You wadded through the pink water to stand in front of him.  You turned to the creature you had just taken down by hurling your frame piece at it and quickly pulled the frame out.  Red spurt from the wound like a pathetic, paint-filled fountain. Before long, it was simply oozing and rolling off the skull of the creature into the water before it started to completely fade away like ash.

You looked back to Taehyung who had disappeared previously from your grasp and you knelt in front of him. Waving your hand in front of his face, he didn’t respond.  You looked down and around him to see his hand stuck on the inside of his jacket- like he had stopped looking for something mid-search.  

“Tae-”

“Rose,” he whispered urgently, interrupting you.  You gently dug into the small pouch you had on your side- where you got that, he wasn’t sure- and before a moment longer passed, blue petals were shown in his line of sight.  That seemed to finally start to snap him out of it.  “That’s my,” he whispered, the rest of his words dying on his tongue.

“You dropped it earlier when you let go of my hand,” you told him.  You gently took his hand from the inside of his jacket and placed the flower delicately inside his palm.  “You need to take better care of that if you want to get out of here.”

One, small tear fell from his eye before he was throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you towards him.  Your face fell into his shoulder as you felt him shake around you. You raised your arms tentatively and started to pat at his back awkwardly.  

“Don’t worry,” you shushed, as you stared at the back wall. You could hear the ashy pieces of the creature disengerate behind your back as his tremors quelled to shivers and soon he was still and his breath wasn’t ragged anymore.  He had calmed himself down as he squeezed you against his chest.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

-x-x-x-

Once Taehyung was able to move again without shaking or fearing for his safety and he had properly calmed down, you led him out of the room he had been trapped in.  Going down another long hall with nothing but lights lining the walls, he briefly stopped at a plaque on the wall next to another door.  This door wasn’t colorful or odd- it looked so ordinary it stood out among the bright purple hall he stood in.

“Gallery ahead,” he muttered, reading aloud as the sighed at the plaque that had an arrow pointing ahead beyond the door.  

Opening the door, there was no noise and all was quiet.  Taehyung followed you as he looked around.  

True to the plaque, it really was just another portion of the gallery.  Proper paintings on the walls with names below it, statues sectioned off with rope and dividers, mantles with busts- it too looked like an authentic, ordinary gallery.  The door you both passed through shut with a soft click as he looked behind at it still jumpy from earlier on. He was thankful it didn’t slam at least.

The floors were tile and shining like they had just been cleaned and waxed.  The walls were covered in a boring, but oddly suiting wallpaper fit for an aged art gallery while chandeliers hung along the ceiling lighting the place in a soft, glowing light.

“This is a nice break from the rest of the place,” Taehyung told you, catching up to your back as you were making your way through the place.  He came to walk beside you, looking at your eyes that couldn’t see any color.

“It is a section of the world that hasn’t been touched too badly by the distortion. If anything is alive here, it shouldn’t be a threat,” you assured him.  The fact you had put away your makeshift weapon put him further at ease.  He looked back and forth at the walls lined with art.  

This was what he was hoping to experience coming into the real gallery today.

Just browsing around to try and spark something in him to create something new.  To inspire him- not threatening his very life after sucking him into an actual nightmare world. He briefly jumped when a painting of a black cat blinked before it stretched and jumped right out of it’s canvas. He meowed up at him as he rubbed against his leg before scampering off somewhere else.  His padding paw steps disappearing down the hall.

Taehyung almost smiled at that.

The two of you walked in silence, the only sound in the gallery was the sound of both of your footsteps and the occasional sound of harmless art brought to life.  Taehyung stared at your back as you walked ahead of him and he began to wonder.  He wondered about a lot.

He wondered what would happen to you when he managed to get out of this place.  What would happen if he tried to maybe take you with him? Could you survive outside this place since you weren’t really born?  Would this gallery even exist when he leaves it or would it cease to be?

He stopped in his tracks he he caught himself. Why was he even thinking about taking you with him? 

The young artist was ripped from his thoughts when he saw your body jerk forward before you were staggering on your feet then falling to your knees on the tiled floors of the peaceful part of the gallery.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he jogged up behind you.  He placed his hand on the middle of your back as he knelt beside you and dipped his head down to try and catch a glimpse of your face. “Y/n, hey!” He called as your body shook and heaved like you were a living breathing person in the midst of a breathing fit.  You were a painting with a soul, but not really alive so did you breathe? He found himself asking that to himself way too often.  

He shook his head- that wasn’t the thought he needed to overthink right now. “What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he tried coaxing you.

You just shook your hand towards him; whether to shut him up or shoo him away he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t move from your side regardless.  When your arm raised, he saw beneath your sleeve a sort of discoloration. It was just like what he saw earlier in the mirror room.  

He took your wrist in his hand as he pushed your sleeve up when you suddenly fell into him. He jolted as he rolled you to lay on your side- your head lolling off in a way that looked uncomfortable with your shoulder pushing into the ground. He lifted your head, putting it on his leg to try and help you at least a bit.  

You twitched as he examined your skin. It looked like your arm was covered in a horrific bruise.  Ugly splotches of black, blue, purples, greens and yellows engulfed your arm like a tattoo sleeve gone horribly wrong. His brows dipped as he looked at the rest of your arm before he looked at the other.  It was the same thing, but not nearly as severe in terms of color and blotches.  It was like it was spreading.  

“What the hell?” He murmured as you seemed to be calming down.  You pushed yourself of his leg to lay on your back on the ground as your chest stopped heaving and you stopped twitching.  You closed your eyes, focusing on coming back down from whatever attack had ailed you and before too much longer, you were forcing yourself to sit up again. 

Taehyung sat beside you, slowly drawing his hand back and away from you as you pushed your sleeve back down to cover your ruined skin.  He narrowed his eyes at you as you looked back at him.  For someone who wasn’t really alive, you seemed to have bags under your eyes.  Something was straining you and you weren’t telling him about it.

“So?” He asked with a sharp tone as you just returned his word with a sigh as an answer.  He wanted an explanation and he wanted it sooner rather than later.

“It’s not-”

“Tell me or I’m gonna annoy you continuously until you give in. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

You ticked your eyebrow up at him. “You’re threatening me? You realized I’m the one who’s been taking down everything that has attacked us so far, right?”

“It’s not a threat,” he promised as he crossed his arms sitting on the floor. He looked like a child.  In the end you let out another defeated sigh. There would be no point in arguing with him.  He’d probably run you in verbal circles until he got his way anyway.

“You know how the rest of the gallery is corrupted, you’ve seen it. Everything in this world that is art is affected.” You grabbed the sleeve of your arm as you sat more comfortably.  “Just because I’m fighting against it now, doesn’t mean I’m uneffected.  It’s a distortion that affects the arts- good or bad- and we can’t do anything about it. I’m just stubborn.”

Taehyung sat for a moment before opening his mouth again.

“So, you’re going to turn bad too?” He asked timidly.

“It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”

“That’s crazy,” he whispered to the floors when his chin dipped down.  He groaned as he brought his hand up to ruffle his lightly colored hair.  You had been protecting him ever since you found him and now there’s a chance you could turn against him too? That was just crazy. You wouldn’t just turn on him like that, right? It’d be gradual and not just flipping a switch from sane to insane, right?

He was pulled from his thoughts again when you moved to stand and he quickly mirrored your actions to stand in front of you.  His arms hovered around your waist and back in order to catch you if you happened to fall again.

“Whatever happens, we just need to get you out of here as soon as possible.  If we find the exit quickly, we can get you out before I completely lose it.” You turned, ready to start walking off again to explore further when Taehyung shot his hand out and caught your arm.

“Wait!” He shouted, the echoes of his voice bouncing off the white walls adorned with art that wasn’t malicious.  “Will you be okay?” He asked even though he really knew the answer.  You had just told him that you were going to eventually turn from who you are now to someone else- one way or the other.

You smiled at him, trying your best to reassure him but didn’t offer him a verbal answer.  You slowly pulled his hand off you before you were telling him to follow you.  His arm dropped back to his side slowly as he looked at your back with sad eyes.  

He didn't know what hurt worse; the fact that you basically just told him ‘no’ or the fact that you didn’t say anything for him to understand because even if your eyes are just strokes of paint, they held so much in them and it twisted his gut.  

Taehyung wasn’t very fond of the idea that he had to leave the peaceful atmosphere of the white gallery and go back out into the one that actively tried to kill him.  His rose was safe in the zipped pocket inside his jacket as opposed to the outside pockets at his sides. He watched before he began to follow you once again.  

The drastic difference between the white, bright gallery and the dark, dim, purple backlight one just from passing through a door still through him for a loop each time he went through another passageway.  He stopped trying to guess what kind of room he’d be going into, because he’d probably guess wrong every time if he did. 

You stayed on guard with your picture frame piece and he stood beside you-more ready to throw down with a sculpture than before- even if he still didn’t want to. He’d tell you what colors were where and lead you in directions if you asked if a certain color was around.  

He briefly wondered how you managed to get around before he got there with your inability to see color, but then he stopped thinking about it because if you just went into a room that was filled with a problem- you probably just got rid of it.  You were more than capable, you’ve proved that more than enough by this point.

“Taehyung,” you called from ahead of him. He had been so lost in thought his steps had slowed down and he was further back away from you than he knew.  “Don’t lag behind.”

“Oh, right,” he called before he was jogging back to your side.  Following you through a doorway, he wasn’t as shocked as he should have been to see a room that was dark with only a trunk inside of it.  Walking in, you stepped up to it before you tapped it with your frame piece to see if something was inside.  

There was only silence before the lid of it burst open.  

You jolted, stepping in front of Taehyung as he raised his hand instinctively to maybe try and throw a punch at whatever might leap out of it, but nothing came out.  The lid bounced against the back of the trunks frame. The inside of it looked like a pink cloud- it wasn’t empty, just unsettlingly pink.  It was like cotton candy or maybe something thicker like thread that could trap you if you touched it.

“What-,” you started before you were yelping into direct fight or flight.  The still pinkness in the trunk jolted before it shot out like sentient strings and separated into long, thick arms of darkened red that wrapped around you and Taehyung’s bodies.  

Your backs were forced together and to your misfortune, your frame was knocked from your hand and clattered to the ground.  The thick strands of red wrapped tightly around your midsections and squeezed as it entangled around your legs and arms and even around your forehead to keep you completely still. Immobilizing the two of you, it then started to slowly reel you in.  

Your feet dragged across the ground and your toes lifted up and off the ground at some point as Taehyung was left to keep fumbling over his own feet.  He wouldn’t fall no matter how tangled his feet got since he was bound and tied so tightly.

The pair of you were stopped in front of the trunk that seemed to bulge in size- like it was taking into account the size of two people before you were swallowed into the cloud of pink turned red.  The sound of the trunks lid slammed above you both boomed like thunder before you were falling.  

It felt weightless, but you could feel the wind rushing past you as you were sure you were coming closer to hitting the ground.  

It was pitch black all around, but you felt Taehyung reach for you- now freed from the strands of red thread that had encased you both. You felt him wrap his arms around your shoulders from in front of you.  His chest pushed against yours before his weight overcame your own and he was falling first in front of you.

The fall wasn’t long and it didn’t feel like enough to particularly kill a person, but when the two of you hit the ground with Taehyung bracing the fall you were quick to shoot up from his chest as he groaned laying on his back.  

“Are you stupid?!” You scolded as he winced both from your shrieks and the pain of the fall. He sat up, rubbing his back as he just weakly laughed.  

“Yeah, so?” Your eye twitched at his lame excuse for a joke at a time like this. As he recovered from his fall and came back to his senses that weren’t cloaked in sensitive fall-stricken shock, you looked around to where exactly you two fell.  

It looked like you were pulled into a child’s coloring book.  Scratchy, uneven lines of what looked to be crayon or oil chalks were used to make up houses, roads and not too far from you both was a mass of uneven, patchy blue chalk that you assumed was a lake of sorts from its size.  It was dark, but it was lit with small patchy lights lining walls or suspending overhead like floating light bulbs.

You made it to your feet after you helped Taehyung, grabbing his hand and offering your shoulder for him to lean on.  He graciously took it and you were quick to ask if his rose was alright.  He dug it out of the inside pocket of his jacket and showed it to you.  A petal or two were missing, but you assumed it was caused from the fall.  

No wonder he hurt so much, you mentally noted with an eye roll; his rose was damaged.  

You looked around and peered over the chalked created houses.  Maybe if you investigated inside one of them, you’d find a vase for him to use to restore his rose petals.  You hiked his arm over your shoulder for a more firm grasp on his body's weight on you.

“Alright, first things first,” you started as you got his attention. “We need to find a vase with water to get your rose to grow.  That should take the pain away.” He muttered in agreement before both of you walked- ambled- off.  

Walking with a body hanging off you was a lot harder than you initially though it would be.  He would walk the best he could, but the injury and loss of his petals were obviously affecting him more than he was willing to let on. 

The first house you both entered was a small one outlined in pink chalk and inside was just one big open room with a drawn, blue couch, a table and a coat rack.  On the table was a vase, but it was empty.  If it wasn’t all black and white to you, maybe you would have found the place almost charming in it’s own way- but it was just dull.

You quickly moved Taehyung to the couch and told him to stay put.  Taking the vase you left the house and quickly moved down the chalked, dirt road down the lake you saw.  Maybe you could put some of the fake water into the vase and just somehow make it work, who knows.

Making it to the lake, you knelt and dipped the vase into the mass of blue as it filled the vase.  Your arm twitched before it was jerked and convulsed with it’s own corruption again and the vase slipped from your fingers for just a moment- but that moment was enough to lose it in the chalky blue mass of scribbles.  

Without much thought, you dove into the water, quickly snatched it back and as fast as possible swam and pulled yourself out of the mass before anything that could possibly be in the lake even thought about grabbing you.  

You huffed in annoyance as your clothes were dusted with chalk and even though it wasn’t real water- you felt damp.  You shook out your sleeves before you got to your feet and went back to Taehyung who was waiting in the house you left him laying on the couch with heavy breaths.

When he saw you, his eyebrow quirked.

“What’re you covered in? Dust?” He asked as you just shook your head, kneeling at the couch side and replacing the vase filled with vibrant blue on the table again.  

“Forget about it. Give me your rose, please.” your hand was outstretched and waiting as he quickly pulled it out and handed it to you. You hesitantly placed the stem into the water and let it sink as the blooms of the petals rested against the rim of the vase.  You heard Taehyung sigh as if his pain was floating away and to your relief, two petals grew once again. “Thank goodness that actually worked,” you sighed.

Taehyung chuckled beside you. “Yeah, no kidding.  That was all assumption- if that had taken more petals off, I think I would’ve passed out or something.”

“You mangled to take four petals of damager before,” you told him. “Besides, you weren’t that injured,” you told him as you took the rose back out of the vase and handed it to him to replace in his jacket. “You just don’t know how to take a fall.”

“Excuse me,” he scoffed in disbelief. “Who was the one who took the brunt of that fall, huh?” He sat up and crossed his arms like a child pouting. “A thank you would be nice to hear, you know.”

Your lips tilted in a smile as you moved to stand up and stretched your arms across your chest.  You felt helpless without your frame piece that you had lost before you wound up here with the young, human artist.  Looking at him like this, you wouldn’t think he’d be in as much danger as he is.  He was in a whole different dimension with enemies at his back almost constantly, but here he was pouting for a ‘thank you’.  You chuckled.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you told him. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lights or maybe your vision going because of your own distorting body, but you thought you saw the blank shade of his skin to your eyes darken.  Like color had possibly bloomed over his cheeks.

He cleared his throat before you could ask and he was getting up off the couch, walking to the door of the house. He was ready to leave, but stopped short.  You came up behind him and opened your mouth to ask him what the problem was when he spun around and shushed you.  He pushed you back and led you behind the couch, crouching down and covering you with himself as you both hid.

You had no idea what he thought he heard, but you kept quiet before you heard the door of the house you both were in squeak open.  You looked at Taehyung as he looked up, focusing on listening for any indication of someone coming closer to your hiding place.  

You racked your brain trying to think of what or who could be following you both.  Had someone been inside the trunk before you and had seen you at the lake? You weren’t sure.  You heard them pad into the house before they stopped and then a crash sounded through the walls of the room. The footsteps then walked back out of the room and the door slammed shut.  

Taehyung and you stared at each other, still remaining silent for a few more moments before determining you were safe. He let out a breath as he peeked over the couch first and scanned the room.  There was no one.  

“It’s clear,” he whispered as he stood up and moved away from you as you stood up next to him.  Your brows dipped as you saw the vase you had just used to heal Taehyung’s rose shattered into pieces with splashes of blue- grey to your eyes- dusted around the table top and blew onto the floor.  

You looked at the door with a narrowed gaze.  Just what was that? Could something you didn’t know about be wandering around? Then again, even you didn’t know everything there is to know about this gallery. 

“I think we need to hurry,” you muttered, Taehyung quickly agreed as you both scurried out of the house.  The two of you walked along the dusty, chalk paths before you were stepping up a set of stairs back into a proper gallery. It led to a section that you recognized. You started walking with ease, knowing what was where in this section and Taehyung took notice of that.  

“Do you know where we are? I mean, you’ve known a good part of where we’ve been, but I mean-”

“This is my section of the gallery. My frame is hanging around here, so yes I know it.” You told him, interrupting his rambling for an answer to his question.

“Your frame?”

“Yes. You know I’m just a painting. The frame I was placed in and the frame I came out of is around here.”

“Can I see it?” He asked without much thinking before you stopped and turned to him.  He almost slapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from saying anything else without a filter before you turned on your heel and started off around a corner. “Y/n! Wait!”

“You wanted to see my frame, didn’t you?” You popped your head back around the corner to motion him to follow after you and he did so.  He trailed you- just as he had been- and eventually you took him to a deadend hall.  At the end of it, on the wall facing the rest of the narrow corridor, was an empty frame. “This is it,” you told him, motioning to it with as little care as you would as if you were showing off a bag of dog food.

The frame was silver and engraved with all sorts of weaves across it.  It was sturdy and not undamaged.  The glass of the frame was broken; however it must’ve been broken from the inside if the evidence of the glass at his feet was anything to go by. You must have burst from the inside out and created the glass mess in front of it.  The plaque under the frame read ‘Leia’ as the young artist looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’re Leia?” He asked. At the discovery he had a pang of small guilt in his stomach from thinking earlier on that he didn’t even want to see the painting since the rest of the gallery was out for his blood. You blinked at him as you nodded simply.

“That was my title when I was created, but I was given a new name because I was granted a soul and free will within this dimension.” You crossed your arms. “Why does it matter what my art piece name is?”

“It's just that the gallery I came from was named after you,” he told you. “I guess I just never expected you to be the last piece of art from someone- not that it’s a bad thing!” He defended at the unimpressed look in your painted eyes. “It was the discovery of that painting that gave my gallery the name it has. You’re like the main centerpiece of everything.”

You looked blankly at your empty frame.  

“I doubt that the ‘Leia’ in the real gallery is like me. I may be ‘Leia’, but I’m more Y/n. It sounds ridiculous, but that painting isn’t me.” You softly traced the silver frame with your fingers before you were turning around again. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time. No more detours.”

Taehyung was quick to chase after you but he couldn’t think of a thing to say to you.  He wanted to talk to fill the silence that gaped between the two of you.  Taehyung kept telling himself that he had no reason to try and figure you out, you were a painting for God’s sake.  What could he possibly want to know?

Other than everything.

He wondered about a great many things and couldn’t help but overthink what you may or may not have been through.  How did you feel about this world? Did you consider it home or maybe a sort of prison you were unfortunately born into. How did this world look to your colorless eyes? Just how did it feel being a painting exactly? 

When you were ‘born’ and thrust into a world that was already starting to collapse, how did you survive? Did you fight from the beginning, or not? He wanted to ask all these questions, but he knew that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t his place to ask anyway- this world isn’t his and you weren’t even human.

Taehyung followed behind you as a feeling in his gut started to bloom. He raised his hand to his stomach and palmed it through his shirt as his steps slowed and he watched you ever so slowly get further ahead of him.  He felt like he couldn’t do this without answers.  So, he acted idiotically and moronically and selfishly.  

Without you realizing, you got separated from Taehyung once again- only this time on purpose.  The next time you turned around to check on why he was so silent, you stopped in your tracks not seeing him around you.  

“Dammit,” you seethed.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung had back tracked all the way to your empty portrait frame.  He stood in front of it once more as his fingers traced the letters of your plaque. The letters spelling out ‘Leia’ in fine script before he was tracing the frame itself.

He felt selfish for wanting to know about you- a painting- and keeping himself here in a world that actively tried to kill him longer than he needed to be. He scoffed at himself, his mind remembering how he had judged the artist in the book he had read before and how the artist got attached to something like a painting. 

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,” he chided to himself.  

He needed to go home and although he understood that, he wanted to know more about the living painting that had been protecting him up until this point.  The same painting who was slowly getting infected with some weird, paint disease that could turn you against him at the drop of a pen.

He knew he was pressed for time. Time was precious, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were too.

Taehyung inspected the black emptiness of the frame that you had come from and reached his hand out.  His hand jerked back when the pads of his fingers weren’t met with the sturdy wall that the frame hung on.  Instead, the blackness encased by the silver frame rippled like murky water.  It was like a pool of ink as he reached out to it again and started to sink his hand into it further.

He wondered how deep that ink went, how far could he reach inside before it stopped him.  Could he be able to submerge himself fully into it, or maybe crawl into the frame like a painting himself.  

“But then, what would that accomplish?” He questioned himself with a half-sarcastic attitude. However, even if he knew it was more than likely fruitless, he started to climb inside anyways.  The frame was big, so he had no problem with grabbing the edges of the frame, lifting his leg over the bottom ledge of it and heaving himself inside the blackness.  

He braced himself, feeling like it would feel like that monster from before that encased him in terror as it threatened his very life.  However, this blackness wasn’t like before.  It was dark and felt endless, but it lacked the deep pit of dread that the monster had.  It felt like something- but he couldn’t place exactly what.

Loneliness maybe? Or perhaps a bittersweet sort of feeling; like being free, yet not being as free as a true human being.  He walked around aimlessly in the blackness, feeling less and less like he was walking on the floor.  He started feeling weightless, like he was walking on air.

There was clearly no end where he was, and he wasn’t so sure if he really wanted there to be.  A light at the end of the tunnel? That wouldn’t apply in this situation and he knew that perfectly well. Or, he thought that would be the case.  From behind him, he started to feel something close by, like the feeling of someone standing directly behind your back.

Whirling around, he saw nothing, felt no one and squinted his eyes as his ears started to pick up on some noise around. It sounded like it was echoing around from every direction, but he was still able to follow it- maybe it was because wherever he was in your frame was a directionless void.

It was nowhere and everywhere all at once.  

As he walked, the blackness started to slowly light up from a greyscale and before long he was standing in a room.  Like, a real room, but in this room he couldn’t touch anything.  He was in a studio- covered in easels, paints, canvases, stains and tarps and cloth and everything in between.  

However, if he even tried to touch something, his hand would just phase right through the object he wanted to grasp. He walked around the studio before the door to the room opened and hobbled in was an older man whose face he couldn’t see.  His face wasn’t even that, it was just black scribbles where the features should have been.  Static echoed around the room as he assumed that the old man was trying to speak, but the words didn’t reach Taehyung’s ears.  

He walked to an easel that was covered with a white cloth before he set up his area and sat on a stool.  He cleaned up some brushes, cleaned his palette and rearranged his paints to suit his needs and wants.

Taehyung watched in silence as the old man began to paint and even though there was clearly a passing of some sort of warped time, in the moment it all felt timeless.  The end result was none other than your own portrait.  He shouldn’t have been shocked to see your spitting image in your portrait, but he couldn’t help it.  

Then the old man just turned his back, his fake face seemingly looking right at the young artist before he pointed at you.  More specifically, he pointed to the white space of your canvas and Taehyung could have sworn he saw it ripple like water.  

The setting of the studio began to suddenly fade out as he started hearing murmuring in the distance echoing around him.  It sounded unbearably loud as he covered his ears and the studio brushed away in flakes like eraser debris.  

“-yung! -hyung!” He felt like his head was about to burst as he felt something grab the back of his jacket and yank him backward.  He was then tumbling out of your frame, out of the void and onto the floor of the demented gallery. “Taehyung!” Someone shouted his name above him as his eyes were blurry and he rubbed at them to try and get them to regain their focus.  He blinked as his brows shot up when his eyes shot open wide.

“Namjoon?” There, above him, hovered his best friend. Taehyung quickly whipped around to his stomach before pushing off the ground and looking up to the blog journalist.  “What? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Taehyung was sure he was the only one who happened to fall into this sketched out dangerous gallery. Namjoon wasn’t even where he was left when Taehyung looked for him. He looked his friend over.

“How have you made it this far?” Taehyung was impressed. Aside from the disheveled state of his clothes with wrinkles and small beads of sweat on his brow and temple, he seemed fine.  

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that.” Namjoon groaned as he pulled the artist off the floor and straightened out his jacket, brushing him off. “I’ve been running around like crazy for hours looking for you.”

Taehyung was shocked and honestly glad to see a familiar face.  Then you came to mind.  He wondered if you were looking for him after he just decided to pull that disappearing act on you.  He felt guilty about it now that his actions settled in. For all he knew, you thought he got himself caught in another dangerous situation when he was really as safe as he could be in the moment. 

“Did you happen to pass by a girl? Like, our age but wearing outdated clothing.”

“Someone else? No, I didn’t. Is someone else here?”

Taehyung shook his head.  “No, she’s not a person, she’s a painting and- argh forget it!  It’s a long story and from the look you’re giving me, you don’t believe me in the first place.”

“How hard did you hit your head when I pulled you out of that thing?” Namjoon asked as he used his thumb to lazily point to your empty frame.  Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed at his temples.  He remembered the way his head spun when Namjoon started calling him before he was dragged out by the man.  His head had pounded just like how it did when he was in the room with the tar monster from earlier. 

He tried thinking back to the man in the studio he witness and tried putting together anything that could be used as a clue on how to get home. He seemed to obviously be pointing to something, something Taehyung couldn’t help but feel was important.  “Whatever you saw,” Namjoon called his attention, “forget it.  It’s probably a trap or something.  You can’t trust the things here.”

“Not everything is dangerous,” Taehyung countered with you in mind.  “Y/n isn’t.”

Namjoon sighed annoyed. “You don’t know that. You said ‘she’ was a painting, right? You can’t trust something like that thing.”

“Don’t call her a thing,” Taehyung growled.  “She’s kept me safe up until this point. Like it or not, I trust her. We need to find her before we get attacked by something.”

“Taehyung-”

“I’m not arguing about this.  Finding Y/n takes first priority.” Normally, Taehyung was more than obedient when it came to Namjoon.  Not only was he older, but the sense of leadership the older held made it easy to listen.  However, Taehyung didn’t feel that air of ‘need to follow’ right now around him.  

“What about leaving? What about that priority?”

“She can help us. Y/n comes first,” he finalized before he was turning on his heel and going off into the direction he had fled from your side.  Namjoon clicked his tongue as he reluctantly followed behind.

Logically, even Taehyung knew that you’d probably be agitated for prioritizing your location over his freedom and escape out of this place.  But, the nagging in his head didn’t let him argue the topic, even with himself.  He wasn’t going to just find a way to escape and not tell you goodbye at the very least.  

You had done nothing but help and protect him, the least he could do was tell you thank you properly before he left.  It was the right thing to do, even if a little bit foolish.  He knew that.

To his luck, it didn’t take nearly all that long for him to catch a glimpse of you rushing around a corner.  You were jogging around, looking to and fro for something- he knew it was him- and he was quick to start shouting at you with his arm raised in the dark halls.  Namjoon stood behind his shoulder, still unhappy.

“Y/n!” He watched your head whip around as you started running towards him.  As you didn’t slow down in your approach, the closer you got the more nervous he became before you skit to an abrupt halt at his toes and got up into his face, grabbing his jacket collar.

“Stop going off on your own! Are you stupid or do you want to get attacked again that badly, huh?!” You shouted in rightful anger as he felt sweat gather on his neck.  He raised his hands in defense as he slightly pushed your shoulders down to gain some distance away from your rage.  

“I know, I shouldn’t have run off.” You slowly released his jacket. “That was my bad and I apologize, but,” he stepped away from you and twisted to show Namjoon. “I managed to find my friend.  He was in the gallery with me before I got here. This is Namjoon.”

Taehyung introduced the two of you as you just stared at the man and he stared back in a silent competition that Taehyung definitely picked up on.  Clearly, there wasn’t much hope of friendship on the horizon- but he figured you’d cooperate with him so that they could get out safely.  You were that kind of person- cooperative if not a bit on the stubborn side.

“You found him, huh? Where?”

“Oh, I went back to your frame and he was there.” Taehyung easily answered, deciding to keep the fact that he crawled into the frame and saw what looked like memories to himself.  What if it stirred something up with you? Your mood was already foul enough, he didn’t want to risk it.

He wasn’t one to stir the pot, so to speak. 

Your brow twitched at his seemingly carefree manner at his ditching stunt.  You groaned as you whacked him on the arm before pointing your finger at his face in a warning manner, making him go cross eyed momentarily.  

“You run off like that again, and I’ll tie your wrist to mine. Got it?”

“Promise?” He teased as you just threw your hands in the air in defeat and started walking off.  He wasn’t planning on running when your back was turned again.  Just that one time was enough.  Now that he was with Namjoon too, he couldn’t risk being as careless.  “We’re going. Come on.”

“At your beck and call, Leader,” Taehyung chided, still trying to get your spirits higher from the mood he put you in.  Namjoon followed behind silently with skeptical eyes as Taehyung chatted with you like he’d known you all his life.  

-x-x-x-

Taehyung had since stopped his yammering as you lead the charge of three through halls and told them when to be silent and when to be cautious. You kept a close eye on Namjoon, something about the friend of Taehyung’s rubbing you the wrong way.  You couldn’t say whether or not you were a good judge of character since Taehyung was the first human you ever met, but you still felt something off.  His cold glare made your artificial skin crawl.

You had just walked through an archway before Taehyung made a noise of recognition as you turned to him.  He looked around with wide eyes.  

“What is it?”

“I feel like I’ve been in this area before.”

“Really?” You questioned.  You’d never really gone into this portion of the gallery.  It was always too dark to see and you were always put off by how quiet it was.  It was like there was something on the other side of the walls that irked you.  “Maybe you passed by here before I found you. I’ve never been in this part before.”

“You haven’t been here? I thought you had been everywhere.” Taehyung wasn’t accusing you, he was just curious.  He wanted to know why you hadn’t been here.  

“I had no reason to be,” you told him.  “Besides, I don’t think a creature like me who’s slowly corrupting belongs in a tranquil part of this place.”

“So,” Namjoon finally intervened from behind the two of you.  You both turned to look at his cross-armed figure, still glaring and fuming with some odd sense of presence you hated.  “You admit you’re dangerous?”

Your brows furrowed.  “Excuse me?”

“You said you’re corrupting.  So? That sounds like a red-flag if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I’m sorry,” you scoff in disbelief, “has it been you getting Taehyung through this place in one piece? Or maybe it was you who has been taking down threats left and right and going on wild goose chases when things go south. No?”

“Guys-” Taehyung tried dispersing the stifling air, but Namjoon’s ire interrupted him.  You both went back and forth and before long you were at Namjoon’s toes, arguing with him face to face- quite literally.  Taehyung watched as he tried to think of a way to calm you both down.  The last thing he wanted was to both waste time and have the two sides of his trust arguing against each other.  

Taehyung was going to open his mouth and shout or something, just to break the string of tension, but his jaw had just dropped when you had stopped mid-sentence.  Your hand was raised, an accusatory finger pointed at his best friend’s chin when it started to drop just a fraction to his chest.

“Y/n?” Taehyung called.  He shrieked when your hand came to grip his chin, squeezing his jaw as you yanked Namjoon’s face down to look into his eyes.  “Woah! Y/n, c-calm down!” You narrowed your eyes before you shoved him away, making his feet stumble back a handful of steps to keep himself upright.  Taehyung came to your side as you shook your hand as if it was contaminated. He looked you over and noticed the uneasy look on your face. “What’s-”

“Why are you sticking to that painting like glue?” Namjoon called to Taehyung as he rubbed his jaw.  “I’m your friend here, not that.” Taehyung looked up and towards the journalist with confliction.  

“T-that’s true, but-”

“But nothing.  That thing just grabbed and shoved me, but you’re at it’s side like I did something wrong.  You should be checking on me, not fawning over that.” He pointed at you, his eyes grew small in anger as you just shot back at him a silent glare.  

Taehyung was less than pleased to keep hearing Namjoon refer to you as ‘it’ or a ‘thing’.  Painting or not, you were still alive and, dammit, Namjoon needed to accept that already. He was ready to tell him off, defend you when you spoke first in a low tone.

“Do you trust me?” You asked. You were looking dead at Namjoon, but the artist knew you were addressing him.  You repeat the question when you’re met with only silence.  Taehyung immedately nodded when the question was repeated.

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“WHY?!” He jumped from Namjoon’s shriek across from the two of you. Your shoulders squared and the action didn’t go unnoticed. “Why trust something you just met?! Who is admitting to killing things and slowing losing its mind?!” His brought his hands to his chest, gesturing to himself. “You should be trusting me!”

“What is wrong with you,” Taehyung whispered in concern, wondering what happened to his best friend.  He was normally the type to roll with anything, even in stressful situations he always tried to take it with a grain of salt.  He was an optimist, or at least he always tried to be.  No matter the dark tunnel, there’s always a light; it was basically Namjoon’s life motto. “Did something happen? Stop accusing Y/n and just talk to-” he gasped when he felt your hand grasp his.  Your face was downcast as you squeezed his palm. “Y/n?”

You whipped your head up and looked at him dead in the eyes.  “We have to run.” Taehyung jolted back.  Run? From what? You looked back at Namjoon, your colorblind eyes slowly unveiling just who and what that best friend of Taehyung’s was.  “We need to get away from him as soon as possible.  He’s dangerous.”

“What?” Taehyung was in instant denial.  Namjoon? Dangerous?  The same Namjoon who would cry if one of his plants died or would lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling if someone asked him what his favorite brand of pen is for the hundredth time? “That’s not true, he’s-” Taehyung looked at his best friend to defend him, but stopped short.

Something about him was off. Taehyung had noticed it since the beginning, but dismissed it all. Now, it looked like some veil of black was hovering around his friend’s body as he glared at you. Namjoon didn’t look like himself.  He looked fake and at that, Taehyung’s eyes widened.  

He looked artificial- just like how you did to his human eyes.  

You must have seen it in his eyes, that’s why you grabbed his chin to inspect him further.  That’s why you shoved him away and that’s why you wanted Taehyung to flee.  

Your hand dropped his as you caught sight of the thing disguised as Taehyung’s friend moving just slightly.  You stepped in front of the artist before you took off before ‘it’ could.  It lunged and you were quick to react.  You lifted your foot and slammed it into it’s stomach as it leaned forward- not at the lack of air, but the force you put into your stomping.  You locked your arm around the back of its neck as you tucked it’s head under your arm and held it in place in a lock.  

You groaned as you felt your arms burn with contamination again and your grip almost loosened at the paintings thrashing because of it.  You planted your feet as firmly as you could, even if the thrashing made you teeterd from your heels to your toes and skid an inch back or forward here and there.  

You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the thing under your arm contained and although you had just told Taehyung not to leave your side again, you were ready to tell him to run off and hide somewhere until you could find him.  

The moment you turned your head on your shoulders to shout for him to do so, you halted to see him literally at your back already.  His large hands had planted themselves one on your back to steady you and the only ensnared in the fake Namjoon’s clothed back, gripping it’s clothes firmly. Even the fabric felt like paint under his nails as he started to rip the thing away from you.  

Taehyung caught sight of the fake’s face and what used to be identical to Namjoon had muddled away to show a white tar surface with no sense of expression. He sneered as he took your place of taking it on before he was shoving it backward.  

Although he wasn’t a fighter, Taehyung was no push over.  He could hold his own if he really ended up needing to and at the moment, he did.  He pushed the fake as it stumbled on it’s own clumsy feet before it started to go after him again.  Taehyung swung his elbow out, cathing the fake in the whiteness of it’s face before it hit the ground.  

He backed up away from the thing he just put on the ground, turning to you and snatching your hand in his again.

Taehyung’s hand squeezed yours and when he did, you spun on your heels and took off, fleeing with the young artist beside you.  You both heard ‘Namjoon’ scream behind your backs as Taehyung looked back to see it still laying on the floor, skriming.  

Taehyung was terrified, more terrified than he was before.  He was terrified on how it gained his trust so easily- a thought that almost made him angry.  He felt stupid as he held onto your hand like a linelife as you weaved through the halls and soon came to a staircase.  

You stopped as you looked over your shoulder as Taehyung buckled to his knees and heaved after sprinting for so long.  He used the wall to support himself as you looked at him trying to gather his breath.  

You looked at your hand in his and attempted to pull it away from him, but he just squeezed tighter onto you and tugged it back.

“A little longer,” he whispered.  After a few minutes of him gathering himself and you making sure you both weren't followed, he stood back to his height and continued to hold you hand.  “Hey,” he called with a tight throat. “If we run into anyone else, if you don’t trust them, tell me and I won’t either.” You didn’t say a word to try and deter him from using your judgement as his own, you simply nodded in agreement.  

If all worked out, he wouldn’t need to use your opinions for much longer.  You were going to get him out.

The two of you ascended the staircase before you and when you reached the top, Taehyung looked around to see the spitting image of the original gallery.  

The white walls and matching floors and ceilings. The chandeliers that weren’t on with the power out and the windows all greyed out as if they were blocked by cement.  The front doors were locked as if there was no escape.  Trying a switch, he wasn’t shocked to see the lights not working.  

“Can you lead from here,” you asked him, just trying to get him to talk again.  “I don’t know my way around.” He only nodded before he was walking off, tugging you in tow as you thought of ways to make his voice come out again.  You felt oddly uneasy when he was silent.  The previous incident with the fake friend of his obviously taking a mental toll on him.  It was to be expected, but it still hurt your chest.

If you had a beating heart, you’d call this feeling heartache.

It was when you passed by a rather mundane looking couch that was suclupted in a strange, wavey shape when you figured out a way to get him to talk. You stopped and your hand in his anchored him when he looked over his shoulder.  When he looked at you, you pointed to the sofa surrounded in rope dividers.

“What colors is that?” You asked when you looked back at him.  Your actions and unspoken desire to get his voice to come out didn’t go unnoticed-  

He smiled. “It’s red,” he told you.

-Nor did it go unappreciated.  

From that, he would tell you the colors of whatever you pointed at that you passed and before he knew it he had come to a deadend with only one, giant painting on the wall- taking up the entire space of it.  His mouth opened as his hand dropped from yours as he looked at it.  

“That’s,” he looked at it as his eyes ran over every edge. “That looks like the gallery. The real one,” he smiled as he gazed at it.  This was it, his way out. He felt in his bones that this was his exit.  His hand reached to touch the canvas, but gasped when his hand just phased right through.  It was just like how your frame was.  He could climb into this and be somewhere else.  

Then he felt a chill run down his spine and a heavy feeling fall in his gut.  He pulled his hand back as he turned around and looked at you.  You were well behind him against the back wall, your hands behind your back as you watched him.  

“What?” You asked.  This was his way out and you both knew it.  You expected him to jump on through and finally be free of this hellscape, but instead he made his way back to you and away from his exit door disguised as a painting. He stood in front of you, toe to toe as he looked at you.

Taehyung gazed at you, his eyes began to sting as they felt misty.  This was ridiculous, he felt ridiculous. How could he cry about leaving you behind when he just met you?  You didn’t belong in his world and he knew that just as much as you.  Yet, the feeling of parting ways with you made his throat tight.

“I’m leaving,” he told you. “And I won’t ever see you again,” he choked.  You were shocked to see the first tear run down his face.  You wondered if tears were blue. You brushed it away with the back of your hand as more just kept coming.  He could see the distortion on your skin under your sleeve from the angle of you wiping his tears and he just wanted to cry more.

His mind started becoming delusional.  

If he chose not to leave and stayed put with you, would you hurt him? Would you hunt him down in time and kill him like the others had before?  Would he lose his humanity even? Turn into a painting and spend the rest of his time with you. You wouldn’t be alone if he did. What if he tried to take you back with him? Would you just disintegrate into paint splotches because you had no physical body to speak of?

So many hypotheticals and you wouldn’t allow any of them to come to fruition.

“Go home, Taehyung,” you told him softly with a smile, the hand you placed on his cheek rubbed his skin before letting it softly fall.  You urged him, not commanded him and he knew he had to go.  He sniffled as he grabbed your hands and held them again. “What, you want a hug goodbye or something?” You teased but when he didn’t reply, you rolled your eyes.  “You do, don't you?”

“And? What about it,” he sniffed as he pouted. You pulled your hands away from his, even if he chased after them when you did.  You swatted at his hands that tried grabbing yours once more.

“Do you want me to hug you or not?” You asked in impatience while he nodded like a child. “Then let my hands go.” He immediately abandoned your hands and wrapped his arms under your own and pulled you to your toes against his chest.  You felt your chest hit his with a dull thud as he held you like you were dying.  

Well, you sort of were, but he didn’t need the finer details repeated on your unavoidable fate.  

He started swaying you on your toes as he found a home on your shoulder. One of your hands was on his head, shushing him and the other pat his back between his shoulders.  He really was like a giant child.  Was this what a goodbye hug felt like? It felt nothing like the hug he gave you when he was attacked previously and reunited with him.  This one felt much more sad- desperate even.

“Teahyung,” you whispered as you felt him hum against your shoulder. “You need to go.”

“I know,” he admitted before he started to pull away from you when your hands moved to land on his shoulders to push him softly.  His eyes looked swollen and wondered what color the skin around his eyes were. It looked darker to your black and white vision. “I think- I think I’m going to miss you.  A lot.”  

You brought a hand to his cheek again, stroking it as you smiled at him.  

“You’ll forget a painting like me in no time,” you eased.  He frowned at that, wanting to hug you again, but you just pushed him away. Turning him by his shoulders, you started to push him from behind to the frame before you came to his side.  You gestured towards it. “Home is waiting for you.”

He swallowed another large lump in his throat.  He curled his lips over his teeth to keep from crying anymore.  He was so overly emotional and he was annoying himself because of it. He could only imagine how you felt watching his waterworks.  

“What’s going to happen to you?”

“I’m going back to my frame,” you told him.  “I’ll go back to my home too,” you smiled.  He felt a small sliver of relief at your answer.  “We’ll both go back to where we belong, just as he should. It’ll be okay.” You pat his back. “I promise.” You felt bad, lying straight to his face like that.  

He nodded before he grabbed the inside of the frame, and began to hull himself over.  He had one knee resting on the frame edge and the other still hanging out when he turned and looked down at you hovering above you on the wall.  He reached in his jacket and pulled out his rose before he handed it to you.  It was a silent agreement as he passed it onto you- he knew he wouldn’t need it anymore. You’d keep it safe even if he wasn’t there anymore and he knew you would.

He put on his brightest smile, “see you around, Y/n,” before he jumped completely through.

As his body faded into the stretched, painted fabric of the canvas and the frame seemed to close like a locked portal that you couldn’t ever even think about passing through, you fell to the ground, screaming as your body felt like it was on fire.

You laughed bitterly as you were just relieved that the one precious person you managed to meet in your miserable existence as a painting without a future was someone as kind and warm as Taehyung.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung felt dazed.  

He was staring at a plaque as his eyes were bleary like he had just woken up from a long nap.  He felt like yawning before he felt a shake on his shoulder.  He lifted his head, rubbing his eyes.  

“Hey,” Namjoon called with concern written on his face, “what’s with you? You zoned out for like two minutes.”

“I dunno,” he replied.  He moved to look at the giant painting of a black location with messy brushes of what looked like some haunted locations.  “I feel like I just woke up from a really nap.” He yawned as he read the name of the painting loud to himself.  “Parallel Reality,” the words read and they sounded familiar to him.  “I feel like I'm forgetting something,” he frowned. “Didn’t the lights go out a little while ago or something?”

“Dude,” Namjoon’s hand fell from his friend’s shoulder. “You really need to get some proper sleep if you’re taking micro-naps, standing up, around this many people and dreaming about power-outages.” It was only then that the artist was aware of all the sounds around him- buzzing from every corner of the building.

“I don’t wanna hear that from the reigning champ of disarranged sleep schedules.”

The journalist and young, free-lance artist continued walking around the blinding white gallery.  People crowded the place and the murmur of them all talking in whispers comforted Taehyung for a reason he couldn’t exactly explain.  

He and Namjoon had started down the final hall they had left to view. The sme hall that happened to contain the naming right to the gallery in the first place.  At the end of the hall, hanging on the dead-end wall was the one painting called ‘Leia’. The piece Taehyung came to see specifically to see if he could be sprung out of his art-block.

As he stood in front of the painting, he inspected it.

It was a young woman dressed in dated clothes with her eyes looking off to almost mimic looking off the canvas.  Her legs were coiled in thorns and she looked like she was running from something, but with a protective sense and not a fearful one.  She held a blue rose in her hand as the silver, engraved frame encased the painting.  

The piece wasn’t what he was expecting, but somehow looking at the piece, he felt calm despite the action set formed in brush strokes.  As the tour guide in charge of 'Leia’ began to explain how it was the artist’s last piece, Taehyung began to zone out again, while Namjoon scribbled down notes beside him.  

As she yammered on and on, Namjoon soon caught sight of his friend’s face. He stopped his writing as he lifted his pen up and lowered his arm to tuck it away in his pocket,. When his hand was free of any writing utensil, he placed it on Taehyung’s back.

“Hey,” he whispered softly to not gain attention from the other’s standing around them. “Why are you crying?”

Taehyung jolted as he quickly brought his hands to his face.  

He was crying.  

When did he start and why? He wiped them away only for more to follow through.  He was soon silently hunched over sobbing.  Why did he feel this way by looking at a painting? Art had always given him a sense of emotion- but he hadn’t felt such sorrow before.  

“I don’t know,” he whimpered as Namjoon took him to some place less crowded. As Taehyung calmed down, he felt oddly refreshed.  

“You okay now? I’ve got enough notes for an entry if you want to leave.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I want to go home and paint,” he announced as Namjoon smiled, happy to see a spark behind Taehyung’s eyes return.  The spark of an artist that had finally overcome his art-block. 

“Alright, then let’s get going.” As the two men walked out, reception bidding them farewell, Namjoon started making conversation. “So, what do you want to paint?”

“I’m not sure, but maybe a blue rose garden or something. Paired with something old fashioned, like outdated clothing or old picture books. I’ll figure it out when I get to my studio.”

He didn’t voice it, but he knew he’d be back to view ‘Leia’ again, and this time he wouldn’t cry. The calmness he felt from the painting- regardless of his tears- was like being reunited with an old friend. 

What kind of man would Taehyung be if he cried in front of a friend?  

-END-

[aegialia]

self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill. 

for good: 

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through 

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby. 

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting. 

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends. 

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me. 

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness. 

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories. 

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me. 

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Ok so I've been stalking your blog for the past couple of hrs after seeing your TadaAi posts (I'm drowning in the period drama that is this ship) and I find you ship Tododeku and rinharu (god i can't stand bakudeku and makoharu) and seems like we share a lot of our views on fandom and ships probably because we're older (I'm 22). Followed and looking forward to your input in the future!

Also you might've given me the motivation to finish watching Free! XD

Hehe yay, please, we need more ppl in our “house of oldies”, make yourself at home lol. And we share a lot of ships?! Even better <3

I knooow, I can’t believe we’ve got a gay “master who fell in love with his servant” ship in the anime, just what I needed for my idiotic collection lmao

But also these two have too much going on between them, so much wasted potential in my opinion, it’d be so interesting to explore (but sadly no xD), they were still the only interesting thing for me lolz. I love complicated morons, who became the victims of a huge unrequited requited love misunderstanding, bc they’re insecure morons lmao and they just have 2 of my fav ships vibes, so it’s probably mostly this haha. 

Oh, I’m inputting *wink wink*, can’t wait to finish the vid, I’m having too much fun with it. I’ve just literally spent several minutes trying to get whether I’ve put Tadashi’s sexy mole in the right distance from his eye in the “him moaning on the table” manip lolz. What can I say... I picked the best hobby, with all the support I’m getting with my vids, I’m living a dream xD

You know, I think I’ve said it before, but when it comes to bakudeku, I at least understand what ppl hope to see there and why, but like.. it’s just not happenning. Also imagining Bakugou lovingly hugging Midoriya is just so OOC I start laughing all the time. And whatever ppl say, in any ship whether they’re enemies or rivals or anything, if you can’t imagine them being tender with each other, smth is not right in my opinion. Also once again, who needs idiotic bleating Midoriya, idk. I’m just tired of the endless “die, deku/out of my way” yelling, I like watching Bakugou going to parties and amusement parks and doing silly stuff, too. Like I’ve said before, pride won’t ever let him change the way he behaves with Midoriya, even when they’re doing “great”. If he was the one, it wouldn’t have mattered, no matter how tough you are, and it wouldn’t take that long. I also don’t think they’re that kind of relationship, like they move each other for sure, sometimes, yeah (not always in a good way tho), but be together in a relationships? Can’t imagine that. Like not all rivals have the rivals to lovers dynamic, no matter what ppl say. But I get the shipping, bc 1stly these two are playing too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him and Bakugou obsessed with him too (just in a bad way lmao) and 3rd ppl want that “enemies to lovers” dynamic, since many love it (me included, when it done right and progresses right), so they’re trying to write that “to lovers” bridge, that just doesn’t fit here in my opinion, simply bc Bakugou won’t be soft with Midoriya, like ever in a way, you’d want, and I don’t think it’s possible for them to go there.

Tododeku on the other hand, 1stly they also play too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him too and Todoroki is lovingly obsessed with him in return, 3rdly they are also rivals to lovers, and I have no problem imagining the second part, it won’t be OOC, 4thly Midoriya when he’s with Todoroki is my fav Midoriya, he’s happy, he is cocooned and he’s badass af (and like when he told Endeavor to fuck off or yelled at Todoroki “the fuck are u doing?” xD are still the best), 5thly Midoriya forgets about Bakugou, when he’s with Todoroki a lot and it’s just funny to me, 6thly they healed each other so nicely, I can’t not be into that, 7thly when they’re together I have like 0 worries, idk I’m like “he will catch him” anyways haha, Bakudeku just don’t give me this vibe. It’s like yeah, they won’t let each other die, but it’s always this chaos of “out of my way”, “I don’t want your help” and “let me punch you before I punch the villain” that I’m just “oh for god’s sake, pls bring in Kirishima and Todoroki so we could just go home, it could’ve been solved in 2 minutes” lmao. Etc, etc.

Tododeku just have too many winning points over bakudeku for me, same with kiribaku over bakudeku, even tho I 100% get bakudeku as a ship ofc. Also idk whether things would be different if Todoroki wouldn’t exist in the equation, but the moment I saw that s2 scene where Bakugou started yelling and Todoroki just ignored him and was like “was Midoriya always this good?”, there was no going back to me XD. Like they both obviously see that Midoriya is wonderful, but only one reacted to that in a way that I wanted. And I’m a sucker for the ships who don’t give a fuck and like “yeah, I find him amazing and everyone should know that”. Todoroki is also one of those guys, who if you give them the much needed love, they’ll return it tenfold with a forever devotion. And all of my fav ships are like that: Yullen, Rinharu, Mikayuu, Wangxian, Akakuro, etc. They’re like “well, I ain’t an idiot to let someone this precious go”, you know lol

On the other hand, when it comes to Kirishima, Bakugou can do all kind of ridiculous thing I wouldn’t imagine he would do to keep him or make him happy, you know. Kirishima is also the only one, who can put his arm around Bakugou without it being cut off, so I don’t make the rules here lol.

So it’s not like I can’t stand bakudeku, more of like can’t imagine this work, to me it’s easier to imagine todobaku in a relationships, but not bakudeku lolz.

But when it comes to makoharu, I just have a huge problem with it and I will never get it. Bc they don’t bring anything good in each other like AT ALL, I don’t even understand what kind of relationships this is from their shipper point of view; they give each other nothing, and one of them is totally in love with someone else and wants a future with him. And that someone also head over heals with him and also wants a future with him. And I hate how 99,9 % of mh fans don’t give a fuck about Haru or Rin whatsoever and just ignore their character’s everything. Bc Makoto. I’m also like if you love him so much, the fuck would you want him to be with Haru anyways, dude doesn’t reciprocate, like at all. I’m at confusion, like name good points of this ship and what good can they do for each other characteristically. There is none, it’s like a damn swamp. Like usually I can give my notp some points, but this is like... they’re both no good for each other... like... why would anyone even want this idk. Don’t tell me “for the childhood friends” one-sided dynamic, like why won’t you also ship Shion with Safu then, like even he seemed more invested in that, than Haru in makoharu lol.

Even if you think of them from the point of view of “the two who are always walking together” ships, that are everywhere nowdays (even tho since Haru moved to Tokyo, he was always with Asahi instead), but even if... those kind of ships are usually at least make each happy and are enough for each other. Haru on the other hand, when he doesn’t have Rin, he is walking with Makoto like a ghost, not even caring if he’s talking next to him AND he’s getting ennoyed by him. Like explain, how someone’s shipping them romantically. It’s been showed like 20 times, that with Rin, but without Makoto, he can be perfectly happy, without Rin tho, he never is.

Also someone explain, what exactly is the point of splitting up two characters, who are happy together, make each other the best versions of themselves and want to be together whole-heartedly? Like I know many start shipping smth, bc the relationships are better in the other pairing, for example, but this is like... definitely not the case here. Like what exactly is missing in rinharu, that makoharu has? Lack of progression and mutual inspiration?

So yes, if you’re into rinharu, totally finish Free! They’re like doing sooo incredible and holy shit they’re inspiring, I mean, look, they’re now the tokyo olympics ambassadors, like how many of yall gay ships reached that? you can’t miss out on them, and also they’re so hilariously romantic, they literally made a wish to swim with each other since they were 13 and did everything to get each other there, I’m.. you’re lying, if you didn’t cry watching them as chibies making wishes on a star and watching them now. One of the most wonderful development in my opinion. Like who would’ve thought back in s1, that we’ll get Haru yelling on top of Rin about how he made him want a future with him, def not me lmao and now all the olympics boyfriends fanfiction are true, I mean, idk what to say anymore. I miss them so much, I can’t wait for the movie :D

[leahclearwaterdefensesquad]

so i was tagged by @anagonyeet and @theepartygetsmewetter

the rules: tag five or more people that you are thankful for in your 2020, that you're thankful exists in a world that's hard to live in. whether that be through random reblogs on your posts, or people you have had full blown conversations with. whether it's just seeing them in your dash, or interacting with them.

@anagonyeet (aka sethrights) I’m tagging you back lol. I’ve always admired your blog and loved your edits and such. I’m honored that you would tag me  💓

@theepartygetsmewetter your message was so sweet!!😭 we have a lot of shared interests so of course i love your blog (who wouldn’t) and you too! you’re so sweet and bubbly and seeing you on my dash always gives me a little smile 💕

other blogs that i am thankful for are:

@queertwilight for being a great friend and being passionate about what’s happening in the world. you’re probably one of the ppl i’m closest to on here, and so i just appreciate tf outta you

@bellas-dumptruck-ass obviously for my icon but also for being such an interesting person to get to know and being a part of the smart corner of this fandom

@paulxlahotee for the billy black and wp content. i’ve officially followed gil birmingham on ig lmao, so i hope that makes you happy. and if i ever do get my ears pierced i’d love to get a pair of your earrings

@teamjacobthot first of all ma’am, thank fuck we have someone as funny and vivacious and creative as you. also thankful for you writing some good leah fic. i appreciate the wp content and leah appreciation you put out, you blessed soul also your makeup vids and looks are 🔥

@su-angelvicioso i admire you sm, both for how you stick up for maria and for how you’re not willing to take bullshit. you’re so insightful w a heart of gold!!

@lemonadebottlecap you’re also another of the smart ones who’s not afraid to think critically, i love that and we need more ppl like you also you just seem like, really cool in general, it’s kind of embarrassing that i only learned your name yesterday 

@bellasredchevy you’re one of the very first twilight renaissance blogs i followed a couple years ago, so ty for roping me into twilight even further lmao

@cullen-collective you’re like the fandom mom, you’re such a warm and dynamic person to interact with, and i’m thankful to consider you a mutual

@renegadepack  you put out sm content for us all so ty for that, and for your anti-racism carrd, and thoughtfulness when you add on to/respond to questions

it is mandatory that we all thank @witchyangela for @incorrectwolfpack . elle, ty for running one of the best blogs out there

@jasperwhitcock for being so funny and nice and so goddamn pretty, wtf 

@twilightofficial ty for tagging me in sm picrews! 😘 i loved that, and you’re such a great person to follow on here!!

@howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen probably one of my favorite mutuals ever, you are so delightful i could just give you a big hug 

@big-idiot-wolf-boys i am always, always elated to see wolf pack blogs and i love yours sm

@lovingcharlieswan i just want you to know that i missed you sm when you were gone, i was so sad about it. i’m just so happy to see you back (and hopefully it’s to stay!) 💕💕