#or how quickly they employed ppl

[arolesbianism]

You know I do wonder how old Olivia and Jackie are intended to be. I've always imagined them as in their late 40s minimum, but for all I know they're intended to be mid 30s or smth. I'd rather not imagine them still being in their 30s, but it is a distinct possibility that scares me deeply lol

#rat rambles #oni posting #I need some proper middle aged divorced lesbians not that pansy shit #ofc we also dont know exactly how long the whole gravitas downward spiral took so who knows how old anyone is at any given point #I generally assume most of the newer recruits are late 20s minimum but technically speaking they could be mid 20s or even younger #the only one I imagine being potentially early to mid 20s at the time of hire is otto but I lean more towards mid 20s #and then theres the question of how old ellie joshua and nikola are given that theyre all from the A id squad #and that question is again made harder by not knowing the timeframe gravitas existed in #or how quickly they employed ppl #so they could be in their 40s or they could be in their early 30s who knows #I personally imagine them as late 30s but theyre probably meant to be younger :/ #who knows tho maybe theyre in their 60s somehow #hey at least some dupes have the decency of having grey hair or greying hair #thanks abe you may not be in the logs yet but at least I can make a decent guess at your general age range

[collegetennisoriginstory]

So, I was romancing Sam on every playthrough but decided to branch out finally, and now I have a tier list; ‼️Potential spoilers‼️

Tobin: By far my favorite RO. I typically don't like the archetype of "brooding ro and their charming ro counterpart" It just doesn't interest me as someone who has seen a lot of het romances employ this trope. But giving Tobin the chance they deserve and finding that I like how they respond to my MC's own flirtatious nature and then discovering how they feel about my MC being the same gender, just adds an extra layer of interest for me that I appreciated. They're kind, considerate, and very thoughtful of their friends. Very quickly blew the rest of the competition out of the water for me. I think their mindset when it comes to tennis explains why they're not the no.1 Seed despite being the captain of the team, and it honestly surprised me. I think the full weight of their route is explored best when MC is similarly looking to go pro as it parallels Rayyan nicely. Their kidness is the space they give you is born from experience and the fear of doing to MC what was done to them and I just eat that stuff up. Also it is very rare to have a black RO who is treated with any level of depth, and I just 🥹love that we Tobin.

Rayyan: In a surprise twist, Rayyan gets the second spot for similar reasons as Tobin. I think the enemies to friends to lovers(partners) arc that is presented in their story is intriguing. Like Sam, they have a level of history with the MC that makes them familiar when heading into the new space, so I made it a habit to stay near them when at all possible. Rayyan isn't particularly cold, or as cold as ppl might assume, I think they have a very good balance of being a sort of quiet and reserved person that still manages to be personable. I feel that playing like I do, my MC might've come off as flippant to them, which only adds to the anxiety that they feel going into this season. Their struggle of being visually Arab in a world and country that sees non whiteness as punishable is very felt. It's really special to me that the two most prominent ROs are dark skinned people of color. Sorry for being biased, but even when I wasn’t actively romancing them, they got major points for that.

Sam: My baby gets the third spot and I think that's fair. What i adored about Sam is the pining of a friends to lovers story. I never make the first move with Sam, despite playing very flirty, bc I see my MC with not having to put up a front with Sam. So the things they do or say that signify to others that my MC is looking for something physical aren't used with Sam; they believe MCs closeness with them is strictly platonic while my MC believes that Sam has been lightly rejecting this whole time. Just something about those missed connections get to me. (Also, the varcity jackets!? So cute) Now, Sam loses points due to being away at another university for a majority of the story thys far. Which made me wonder if placing them in a new environment with MC might change things for them. Everything IS different now; so, who is to say that their relationship hasn't run its course? Juicy, but due to lack of presence, I'll keep them at 3rd.

G: They're French. Automatically, a point is taken off. They're also very sexy as a woman (my MC is a they/them lesbian) so I felt that, to remain true to character, I would have to ignore that and see what G has going on. Ngl, they do sort of play out like a romance novel character in the most obvious way so far 😭 no hate though. I just couldn't not think about "Oh, you sexy French student." Whenever they said anything. Smoldering looks from across the room at a crowded college party, like okay 400 days of summer <3. I think they're rather perfect for players who are looking for some steam outside of the locker room. They have the same issue as Sam, as in, they're not present in the locker room. They're not our teammate, so we don't really get the same level of relationship building with them as u would a Rayyan or Tobin. And I don't think that's a bad thing necessarily. I feel that speaks to the amount of work put in to make the team feel real and not just thrown together characters. Once I started to romance my teammates, I found it hard to flirt with anyone else, as I felt that they just didn't understand my MC on the same level.

Felix: ngl, they'd have to get security to get me off them, I have this burning rage in my heart whenever they show up. "🤼‍♂️ This is for Tobin, Cakepop‼️" I am sure there is indeed depth to them as a character, I am sure it hurts to hear someone say "I can not love you the way you want me to." And we are only human, we don't always behave the way we want to. But Felix makes my nipple itch they just remind me of men who just hold this anger for their exes unreasonably. I think there is an interesting parallel to be found in a Tobin route MC and Felix. I just don't have the language to put it together bc I will never romance them and I don't think I ever will, personally just can't bring myself to do so. They are what I felt Rayyan would be, and I'm fine with meeting them with hostility.

All in all, I'm glad I branched out to see what the other ROs were like it's definitely a testament to ur hard work and is greatly appreciated. I will continue to be messy and kiss Tobin, Rayyan, and Sam because I am toxic aim to be a learning experience, not a lover 🫶🏽

Oh my god~ It was so interesting to see your gradual evolution / journey through pursuing the different ROs.

I think it's really interesting in particular to see how Tobin's character is sort of 'hidden' beneath multiple layers, and you have to really work at unpeeling those layers, and it's really rewarding as a writer to see that route 'give' readers so much unexpected joy.

And, of course — I have a soft spot for stoic / unexpressive, overly-competitive, serious characters who are secretly just a giant sap. For Rayyan in particular, I think their drive to excel at tennis is counter-balanced against their loyalty, their ride-or-die-ness with the people they love. I love the extra bit of psychoanalysis that you did regarding Rayyan's anxiety about MC not taking tennis seriously, which is fine on its own, but really becomes an issue if they're partnered.

Sam having less 'screen-time' than the others is totally fair, and I think (or hope) will be made up for by the sheer amount of history they share.

As for the whole "French sexy" stereotype, I actually do think this is a crucial part of G's arc. The idea that perhaps they both see each other as 'archetypes' at the start (the jock-fling during one's exchange year, the sexy french exchange student), and then as they start understanding each other as real people, and then as they start (possibly) falling in love with each other (with all the eccentricities, all the imperfections), the relationship takes on more depth and dimension.

Finally, thank you so much for taking the time to explore all these different routes, and I'm so glad that doing so was rewarding for you :) I absolutely loved reading this message, so thank you also for sharing! It's always so fun listening to how different MCs, or different MC choices, and just different readers in general — have different takes on the ROs!

#college tennis: origin story #if #ct:os #interactive fiction #asks #rayyan #sam #tobin #g

[eirian]

so me and eden talked about it and ive decided to take a sort of internet break with her, just for a week or so. i hate hate hate being so dependent on the internet (particularly social media) for both entertainment and socialization and i feel like being online so much and relying on it for SO LONG (since i was maybe 11?) has really been detrimental to my mental health. and since ive made rent for this month i feel like now is a good time to just step away for a bit.

i still unfortunately rely on the internet for my livelihood--i HAVE to take commissions in order to make rent, provide food, etc, so i wont stop posting art or taking commissions! i'll just be less social i guess. i wont make any posts or reblog anything, i'll just be posting art and contacting ppl abt commissions.

i want to spend more time with my wife. i want to go outside more. i want to hang out with irl people more (i literally have no irl friends). i want to go to meetups. i want to disconnect from the internet so bad i HATE relying on it as much as i do. i mean this so unironically i want to touch grass again

im ngl. i also talked w eden about possibly starting up an irl small business for my art--something along the lines of basically being a caricature artist again, but this time self employed. i'd have my own brand and go to parties and draw people, and volunteer at the local children's hospital sometimes too and draw the hospitalized kids. im honestly just trying to think of ANY job that would help me ease up on being so reliant on social media for income, if possible, that would still be fun for me and not absolutely kill my mental health like my previous irl jobs did. dont get me wrong i love drawing yalls ocs! but i cant charge as much as i should be b/c i dont have enough of a following/demand, so i have to take a lot of commissions before im able to make a decent living. it sucks.

if i could charge more to where i only had to take maybe 3 commissions a month in order to make rent, thatd be ideal. id still love to do commissions for a living! i love drawing your blorbos and i honestly dislike the idea of going back to caricature art--its not my passion by a longshot and its very stressful to do live art so quickly. but im just trying to think of anything to help at this point u_u i cant get on ssi b/c then we wouldnt be able to use my bank account for income and we'd basically have No Money To Do Anything Freely Anymore. so i gotta just. stick with what im doing. IDEALLY id be able to take commissions and post art while not being necessarily Active on social media anymore, but idk how to make that work just yet or if thats even a thing i could do..

anyway. TL;DR im going to take a semi-break from social media/the internet for about a week, but i'll still post art + take commissions + accept messages from close friends on discord. i want to HEAL, man

[acousticmalta]

IT’S ME! I’m obsessed with your Maid…v interested in 1on1 relationships and what you have so far for character development/the future 👀 Saw your art on Instagram and launched my ass back to Tumblr after so long 😭

(CW unhealthy ship dynamics probably)

Thank you for all the love on my RE8 maid oc and for giving me an excuse to talk more about her. I love receiving questions!! 🫶🫶

I guess today I'll talk about one on one relationships and how I imagine dynamics work collectively at Castle Dimitrescu. @ other ppl reading this, you might need to read my previous response to have more context

Just to make it clear, I will reiterate that the Dimitrescu family members pursue the maid individually (no incest🙅‍♀️). The maid is in a romantic/sexual poly relationship with each Dimitrescu but the Dimitrescu are NOT amongst themselves. They do not mind the maid being shared inside the family, they're not jealous of each other and they do not bother with human morals on what relationships should be or look like

If they ever fight about the maid, it's probably the Dimitrescu daughters arguing because they want to spend more time with the maid and they have to share her time throughout the day. But no fights regarding her poly relationship

I understand if this is not your cup of tea and you don't have to keep reading if this is not something you feel comfortable with or interested in. Please just go on with your day and leave me be 👍👍👍👍👍👍

Also there's NO dubious-con or non-con whatsoever here. All the relationships and dynamics stated here and in the future are very consented. I want to make this very clear

The daughters are the first to notice the maid, maybe because of her reserved and mysterious nature (or the fact that she likes bugs) that they felt immediately pulled in towards her. They became quickly and completely obsessed about her to the point it was disrupting the everyday maid's work schedule and the sisters' duties as well

That's when Lady Dimitrescu also picked an interest in this maiden too, being the first ever to cause such an impact to the house and seeing in her all the potential

Lady Dimitrescu, who is the most sane figure in the household had to step in because her daughters' effusive nature was surely going to be soon the end of this recently employed woman given how she was womanhandled. She was a just discovered hidden gem and Lady Dimitrescu had never had to set boundaries regarding human playthings but all of them are very intense and most of the time violent so placing some limits was necessary if they wanted her to survive them

The maid was hired to serve the house of course but with the intention of being eventually turned into Sanguis Virginis when needed like any other virgin maiden of the castle staff. This was soon up to debate inside the family cell as they quickly realized they couldn't possibly dispense of this maiden in particular. Too lovely, too enticing, too delicious to be consumed in one sit

So until it was fully decided what to do with such an exceptional case, they basically set aside the maid's virginity as the limit. Otherwise, almost anything was allowed (always consented, if I need to reaffirm it)

It turns out to be a harder restriction than anticipated and everybody is about to break the pact all the time. Maybe more on this another day… although I already spoiled this in my previous post very briefly 🫣

(I will continue this post in a comment because tumblr is homophobc and won't let me post everything in one post, it's too long boohoo)

#i'm cringe but i'm free #RE8 #Resident evil #Village #maid

[machinecreature]

Hi!! :D

Please tell us everything that we need to know about Joe and Troy. ☺️

I know absolutely nothing about them but am SO WILLING to sit here and listen to true stories about them!!!

my time HAS COME >:)

when i started watching the nfl seriously a couple years ago i jokingly was like, lol there's something going on between joe buck and troy aikman. and i quickly then realized, wayament.. there totally actually is.

joe buck is an american football commentator for the nfl (previously he also did baseball but just does football now). he's the son of a legendary sports broadcaster (nepo baby!!) and is kind of polarizing i guess bc he's a bit goofy and some people don't like how he commentates. i first got exposed to him for baseball when i got into baseball in 2016 and i happen to like his voice and how he carries himself. i like silly bitches idk. he's been doing nfl broadcasts since 1994.. he was employed by fox for his whole career until moving to espn in 2022. also he's addicted to hair plugs and has a podcast called "daddy issues" ...make of that what you will.

troy aikman is a former nfl quarterback for the cowboys who does color commentary on nfl broadcasts, also for over 20 years now. he and joe have been partners in the broadcast game for 22 years. i think everyone likes troy. he can also be goofy but in a way that's less annoying than joe to ppl? idk but he's a great football mind. and an all-american hottie, i mean.

bro looks the exact same lmaooo anyway

troy joined fox in 2001 and started working with joe in 02. at first the booth also included cris collinsworth, but eventually cris left, probably because he was sick of being a third wheel.

so over the years joe and troy became a formidable broadcast pairing but also became...CLOSE FRIENDS! how did they become close friends and develop chemistry you ask...

uh ok. ok aight

also they bonded bc they're only 2 years apart in age, were married at similar times andd having children at the same time and then uh *checks notes* Divorce, uh they bonded over divorcing their wives at the same time.

heaps of praise, they r always praising each other alright....

so years go by, they call super bowls together, they have these lil flirty moments in front of america on the lord's day ffs, they get caught criticizing the military propaganda complex when they thought their mics were off (kings!), they become the subject of endless memes, & general mischief -- the stuff that really bonds men together, you know.

a break for pics thru the years

so, we come to the end of the 2021 season.

troy's contract was up. joe still had a year on his fox contract and was by all accounts going to stay. he appeared on a podcast and heaped praise on troy and also didn't like thinking about him potentially not being his broadcast partner. :(

"he knows how i feel. i don't want him going anywhere." plssss

but troy decided not to renew with fox and to go to espn's monday night football. the sense i get is fox not really being willing to pay what he was worth at that point lol. and he basically just chose to put it out there into the world, "hey joe, follow me"

and very quickly after that (like i think days or weeks it truly wasnt long) ......fox decided to let joe out of his contract😭

so really it was never a question whether or not they'd go together i guess. and that quote is cute to me idk. see what i mean joe is a lil goofy but i like that.

so, for the 2022 nfl season joe and troy settled into their new home on espn. same as it ever was. <3

Awww.

and uh, that's it! that's where we are now! they're happy and in luv!

we shall end with some tweets...

#the way i spent so much time on this lmaooo #izzy has their aaron rodgers is gay presentation and i have this #whomst else is doing it like us #nfl

[quotidian-oblivion]

📓

Hi!!

So I had this idea a while ago about 'Runaways Tim & Jason AU', but then scrapped it cuz... yeah I just wasn't feeling it after a while. I was gonna name it 'Scram'.

This is more of a character relationship study sort of thing.

(Please ignore the grammar mistakes, i dont usually pay attention to grammar while i plan)

Basically, Tim and Jason meet in the streets while Tim is running away from his abusive parents and Jason is fending out on the streets alone. They meet while Jason is stealing tires from the batcar and Jason explains what he’s doing and Tim frowns at it cuz he loves Batman. They basically exchange conversation and the two seem suspicious of each other, and basically don’t seem to like each other cuz Jason’s rude and Tim seems too rich. 

Then they hear Batman coming and Tim leads Batman away from the batcar saying that he’s lost to distract him from the missing batmobile tires. Jason is relieved, but thinks nothing of it and takes the tires away because he got his own problems to attend to. 

He takes the two tires he managed to steal to his empty apartment (which will kick him out in a week if he doesn’t pay). He decides to sell them tomorrow and think of the things he’ll need to buy to survive and maybe a tiny treat for himself. Morning kicks in and he sells the tires to the car shop he knows will pay up good. They are dubious and basically steal the tires from him just cuz he’s a kid. Jason leaves with a bruised eye and vows to kill the kid who gave him the false tip. 

He doesn’t have any money left since the jerks took the little he brought and the emergency money at home needs to be used for the rent so that he can stay for at least a week more. He wanders the food street, his stomach grumbling, and sniffs at the many aromas in the air, not being able to do nothing more than just smell them. He enters the most kid-friendly shop (it has a poster of a cartoon dog on the front window) and he asks if they are looking for employment. It’s a family-run business so he thinks that they might employ him and not sell him to a human-trafficking site and the wife who is the only one who knows how to speak english tells him to scram. Jason insists and lists off all the things he can do, but the wife won’t budge. So he storms off and trashes their bins in revenge. The wife comes screaming and he runs away before she can lay her hands on him. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon, roaming the streets away from Crime Alley mindlessly and collecting change from the most friendly looking people. By the time it’s 1 in the afternoon (Jason checks his father’s watch that he stole before he dies), he managed to collect a total of two dollars in change. That was a real stroke of luck considering that this was Gotham. He decides to go to the train station to see if there were any foreigners about (they were rare, no one wanted to come to Gotham) when he sees the kid he had seen last night. 

He tries to avoid him, but accidentally catches his eye and sees that he’s healthy and safe. The kid doesn’t seem interested in him either because he turns away and quickly tries to board the approaching train. That would have been the end of that, but then a man grabs the kid and tries to drag him away. Jason sees that it’s a ticketmaster and he’s scolding Tim for sneaking on. Tim earnestly says that he has money to pay for the ride, but the ticketmaster doesn’t seem to believe him and tells him to scram. [this fic is titled “Scram” cuz ppl keep telling Tim and Jason to scram, but then at the end, when they inevitably meet Bruce (maybe through one of the other Justice League heroes? Like the Flash?), they find that Bruce and Dick and Alfred aren’t telling them to scram]. Jason comes forward and pretends to be his brother [this could be another plot point that at the start, Jason pretended to be Tim’s brother, but later they don’t even have to pretend because they really do care about each other] and drags Tim away. 

Tim thanks him and Jason says that he’s just paying back what Tim [they don’t tell each other their names until a couple days later] did for him the other night. Tim says that Batman was getting more violent after Robin’s leave and he didn’t know whether he would be mad at Jason or not. Jason says whatever and eyes him suspiciously. Tim asks what happened and Jason asks if he does actually have money. Tim freezes then his features twist to a snarl and he spits out saying that Jason was after his money the whole time. Jason rolls his eyes and says obviously, why else would he be interested in him? If he wants to live out in the streets then he’ll have to get used to it. Tim scoffs and turns away and Jason lets him go. He doesn’t need more trouble on his hands.  [Basically, Tim’s parents hunt for him and they’re forced to go through city through city, alerting each JLA hero of each city about themselves, but the JLA members don’t know that each other know. They build bonds, get each other out of trouble and the fic explores how one can live in the streets in modern day]

~~~~~~~~~~~

I heard that there was another fic kinda like this later (didn't read it cuz i dont vibe with some of the tags), so that added to my motivation slipping. But yeah, i think this has fic potential, im just not bothered to write it.

#tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc #batfam #robin #batman #quotidian asks #quotidian writes #quotidian fics #batfam fanfic #batfam fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #alternate universe #runaways au #jason todd and tim drake runaways au #fanfiction ideas #fanfiction prompts #fanfic prompts #fanfic ideas #sorry for the late answer ahoy #i had exams :/

[sylwanin-was-right]

This comment is so funny for many reasons (including the suspension of disbelief u have to employ to accept that an avatar clone can reproduce non-sterile offspring w a native Na'vi without suficient information from the first film to explain that lol) but it reminds me of how rlly terrible it is, imo, that the story was set up this way: that Jake HAD to be a character that played a major role as an accomplice in genociding Neytiri's people, displacing them permanently; killing most of her friends & immediate family & relatives, & leading them into a war that ended w intense rehabilitation. Shortly after all this, & even in between the first conflicts, she falls for him & literally desires him.

Ofc Jake was just "doing his job" then eventually changed his mind & heart once he became personally invested in the Omaticaya as ppl & Neytiri as a love interest (both situations are commentary in & of themselves). And Neytiri having a "strong heart" in many ways led her to personally invest in Jake as a love interest as well as a cultural investment since her teaching Jake the ways of the Omaticaya was possibly practice for her future role as Tsahìk (if u think abt it, Neytiri got some good diplomacy skills out of learning ways to better relate to humans from Jake, etc since shes already familiar w human culture being a previous student at Grace Augustine's school, & she should have been aware that Jake is affiliated w humans in some way). But personally i think the implications of their relationship & how quickly they became close felt rlly rushed & ended in a dissastisfying way when i was old enough to understand those implications.

I dont think using sci-fi allegories for issues regarding race, colonialism, etc is inherently problematic or racist, & tbh Avatar as a franchise could still have potential to explore other themes of colonization, etc (& even explictly critique capitalsm in these sequels tho thats prolly not likely considering the profit motivations of at least cameron's contributions to the films lol. I digress). Its just after seeing these videos & taking interest in learning Na'vi as a L2, L3, etc, im reminded of how Jake's character closely reflecting a white savior & Neytiri's character set up as an almost stockholm syndrome driven "princess" of a displaced & genocided ppl is a rlly unfortunate way the sequels introduce a family dynamic.

But i think Avatar (2009) is no real piece of liberation media anyway, & tbh it was a movie that exploited palatable anti-war, technology critical, conservationist, & anti colonial sentiments primarily to showcase new movie tech that would lead the industry; it was not as memorable to most ppl depite its box office impact bc the plot was so cliche & predictable, but it had a lot of potential bc of its relevant themes, unprecedented & immersive cinematography, special effects, & worldbuilding. Since Avatar is going off more & more themes surrounding indigenity, colonialism, imperialism, & war & many efforts were made over the last decade to revitalize ppls interests in the Avatar universe, i think the series will have a lot of time & content for fans & critics to contribute to its creative vision in a way truly creates an empowering image for the audiences it should resonate w.

Hopefully the story of the next sequels will be satisfying enough to somewhat tolerate (tho not forgive) the way Jake became a protagonist & had a family w a Neytiri soooo quickly.

#na'vi #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar 2 #james cameron avatar #oel.post #contains vid #jake sully #neytiri #tuktirey #neteyam #lo'ak

[menalez]

Mamaterf husband is not a soldier. He is employed by the military as an office worker. Does this contribute to aiding US imperilaism? Sure. Does this mean a woman should be shamed bc a bunch of people made assumptions about her husband, then accused him of being a rapist (just bc they thought he was a soldier) with no proof? Nope.

This isn’t towards you btw, but to the anon and replies you got about her that kept insulting her for what they assumed her husband does/did. It’s insane how quickly people are willing to insult a woman over shit they projected onto her, and as if she must answer for their fantasy. It’s also ridiculous to act like all of US imperialism is her and her husbands fault.

like i can get saying they’re contributing to it or selfish. or even just not liking her husband but 😭 i’m sorry why should i personally care & hate someone bc of their husband, and not even things the husband even did but speculation based on the fact that he’s in the military (like saying he’s raping women or killing brown ppl or whatever else..) .. i doubt i’d like him if i knew him but also that’s as far as it is for me

[garsideofthemoon]

KinnPorsche + Chuang 2021 but Kinn’s Lelush

thx to the ppl posting about kim!lelush I have been Thinking about kinn!lelush.

This got crazy long so the meat and potatoes is going under a cut. But BASICALLY I felt bad for kinn bc he didn’t get to chase his singer dreams in canon

ofc this makes negative sense on its face so how I justified it is kinn and his bodyguards sneak into chuang 2021 to see kim, who is legitimately there to compete. He’s a mix between mika and jing long (amazing singer, already signed/established, tends to sing slower songs, song went viral on tiktok) but slightly better at dancing lol. Chay is also there as a li louer/fu sichao type who got in on the strength of a killer audition tape and the fact that he’s studying music at anantarameka (he is a year or two older here).

Anyway porsche was not invited to Sneak but he tags along bc chay is there!!! he can see chay from afar!!! see his bro doing well!!!!! and ofc kinn is pissed etc etc

they get in by pretending to be staff or some shit. and kinn is like hi baby bro!!!! and kim does a gr8 impression of a wet cat

in the midst of all of this covid travel regulations change (chuang 2021 was filmed in late 2020/early 2021) so a bunch of ppl who were supposed to be in the cast can't come. Chuang 2021 was marketed as a super international show where contestants from around the world would create a global group.

So what does the production team do? they cast any and all sufficiently attractive available foreigners (this really happened on Chuang btw lol. If you remember that group of randos including princeton man and the ukranian guy w pipes that's how they got casted lmao).

Lucky for them there's a bunch of hot thai dudes!!!! right here!!!! who are already 'employed' by the company!!!!!

big is dead set against being a part of this mess. kinn knows he shouldn't but a part of him remembers how much he used to love singing. Porsche, who a) notices the look on kinn's face and b) is always in for chaos somehow finagles the group into agreeing to audition

they end up doing the league of legends song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heNs_uWbJVk) bc I think that would be fucking hilarious. Instead of real choreo porsche and big spar while kinn sings. kim is horrified and chay is confused. Ning Jing makes some cutting remarks about big's perpetual stankface. Porsche and Kinn get voted into the show while Big is relieved to be kicked out lol.

Chay and Porsche have a talk and Porsche explains that he got roped into auditioning w his boss but doesn't tell Chay about the mafia. The way choosing rooms worked in Chuang 2021 was that whoever got the most votes (I think from fans???) got to pick a room first. Kim is in the first tier bc his established fanbase. After that is Porsche, Kinn and Chay in that order. Kinn orders Porsche to get a nice room for him or some shit and they end up in a double. By the time Chay gets in the only beds left are the ones in the 8 person rooms and the other bed in Kim's room (Kim wasn't popular enough to get a single lol). So you have KinnPorsche and KimChay roommates.

In this universe Kinn hired Porsche right before Kim and Chay left for Chuang, so Kim is aware that Kinn hired a Suspicious Bodyguard but didn't get a chance to investigate Porsche so doesn't know anything about Chay. Chay is ofc starstruck. At first Kim has his Wik Persona(tm) up but over time he and Chay become songwriting buddies and get close ;). Kim asks Chay to be the unofficial director of his vlogs (fans could vote for contestants to film vlogs about their life at chuang etc) so between that and Chay writing songs for other people (like during the theme song challenge) fans get to see more of Chay and he becomes more popular.

MEANWHILE Porsche is glad to see Chay but is getting bored. Kinn is trying to surreptitiously manage Theerapanyakul Affairs(tm) while half-assing dance practice and singing his heart out. He quickly establishes himself as a Twink Magnet(c) so Porsche gets sexiled a lot. As a result Porsche ends up in a bunch of ppl's vlogs etc and gains a small following that way.

Thanks to their fanbases all four end up on an ep of one night werewolf which lead to extreme chaos. Kinn ofc wins by a mile.

The Chinese New Year celebration happens and off camera someone sneaks booze into the dorms. Kinn and Porsche get wasted and make out.

Then the first elimination performances come!!! Porsche is in the love me ready are you ready group and is Camp(tm) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjL12GZejYU). Kinn is in that one breakup song and wows the judges with his singing though they say he needs to loosen up on stage. Chay is in loverboy88 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZqmnvrsOL0) and plays the guitar. Kim either gets you need to calm down (kimlor swift!!!) or Lit (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkXRk_CCc0s) to 'show versatility' aka look like he's about to murder everyone.

Both Kinn and Porsche fully expect to get kicked off. Kinn ropes Porsche into helping him with his vlog where they open a mocktail business for a day or something. During this Porsche realizes he's gotten to see a different side of Kinn (joyfully singing! getting along with civilians! not being a bastard!) and has his oh fuck I've caught feelings moment.

Time to see who got eliminated!!! Porsche despite serving Charisma Uniqueness Nerve and Talent gets kicked off. Kinn is SHOCKED to learn that he made it through and is in the top 20. Kim is in the top 10 and Chay is in the top 30.

In the second elimination both Kim and Chay pick the group where you get to write your own song. They spend a lot of time together and are v much catching feelings. Kim is conflicted bc on the one hand Chay is the brother of mr sus bodyguard but also is v talented and has become someone Kim wants to have in his personal + professional life. Chay is living his best life working with his phi and idol.

Meanwhile Kinn is in a bit of a bind. Mafia things are ramping up back on Thailand and he's still stuck in the competition. Vegas is trying to make a move on the major family and there's only so much Kinn can do from afar. He starts asking fans to not vote for him and says he misses family etc. I'm blaming covid on why intimidating production doesn't work. Kinn decides to do the crab dance song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jQwpKM5-Eg) bc he figures it's not in his wheelhouse and he'll get cut.

Surprise surprise fans are endeared by his 'I want to go home and support my family' thing!!! He gets into the next round!!!! So do Kim and Chay (their song gets the most votes of the night).

Now Kinn is fully like oh fuck. He keeps being like please send me home to Thailand etc etc and turns into a meme in China (much to the surprise/amusement of the Chinese triads lmao). In the third elimination they have to sing with a girl so Kinn picks the least romantic song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VgNdVzYpDc). Unfortunately his fangirls go wow so cool!!! lmao

But anyway during all this Kinn is in his room with the empty bed that was Porsche's and thinking about how he felt so happy around Porsche etc etc, how he felt relaxed around Porsche and like his mafia side and the rest of him could coexist around Porsche or something. So now he's mooning about Porsche while fucking every remaining twink (much to Kim's revulsion).

Kim is doing his whole tortured love shtick and not communicating with Chay. They end up on the same group doing this song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrcjG2w69uM but with a lady in there somewhere). There's a lot of belligerent sexual tension going on and the producers make a meal out of Kim and Chay's ~~ falling out(?????) ~~~

Anyway all three of them get into the final. Vegas is doing shenanigans in Thailand while this is going on that Khun + the bodyguards are dealing with while Korn is Disapproving. There's a phonecall/video message thing before the final with Khun and 'Kinn's friends' (aka the bodyguards) including Porsche who says some shit about his time at Chuang (aka coded love message lmao). So Kinn is having Feelings. This turns out to be Kim's phonecall too when Khun breaks out the baby pictures lmao.

Kinn does some kind of ballad for the final and pours his whole heart into his performance. All the angst he's suppressed re wanting to be a singer and giving it up for the mafia, about wanting Porsche but not being able to have him, not living up to Korn's expectations etc pours out. It's a gut wrenching performance.

Kim performs why don't you stay. Chay performs his own song about Kim. They both get into the group but Kinn doesn't (thanks Kinn's fanclub!!!). Cue Kinn bolting out of there like Lelush did and Kimchay doing the Oscar+Yetao handholding thing.

Then Kinn hightails it to Thailand without catching covid somehow and deals with vegas + gets with Porsche

#this is so long #kinnporsche #what do I tag???? #kimchay #probably shouldn't tag chuang lmaoooo #but yeah god bless the ppl who were talking about kim!lelush #awakening all my love for chuang

[sofipitch]

Im really sad that besides the lack of implicit romance. The 1994 version got a lot of loustat and the family dynamic better. Like Lestat still tripping all over his family issues, but I see him trying with Claudia and Louis. And I can imagine, despite Pitt’s lackluster performance (that did sell at least Louis’s depression and detachment) that maybe with reflection there was once something softer there. I don’t know how the show could recover from this. The grey power and morality is so thrown

So I think you meant "explicit" and not "implicit"? That through me for a loop because I was like "you want to go back to queerbait...?"

No but I agree, the IDEAL IWTV in my head is Jacob Anderson as Louis and Tom Cruise as Lestat. TC's Lestat seems genuinely more nuanced in his cruelty and genuinely loves his family BOTH Louis and Claudia.

Brad Pitt as Louis fails not only because he gave like absolutely nothing in most scenes but bc a lot of the complexity surrounding Louis is taken away. Paul's death is more interesting than a rando dead wife and child. BP is a slave owner but that is just like never addressed as "hey this guy is not a good person". JA's Louis running the brothel you see more of that, not only in the confession scene but the fact that POST confession scene that guy keeps running his brothel despite KNOWING that it is wrong. Also in ep 3 when he is facing racist laws preventing his business, there is the idea that he could shut down the Azalea and make some other business. He even says he owns grocery stores and such. Yes it would be loss but maybe he could build a bar, a music club, or even a theater and potentially still employ all the same women. He has a chance to rebrand, yet he digs his heels in, on one hand because of the racism behind what is stopping him, but also the money, based on their convo when Louis makes the "colored only" sign. That is a good an complicated Louis, I can chew on the complexity of that guy for hours. And to me is more accurate to book Louis's grey morality by having him acknowledge his business yet coming up with false ways it's "not that bad" like how in the book Louis is very hands off with his plantation, so he doesn't treat his slaves poorly himself BUT these are ppl potentially being treated badly by the foreman.

JA's Louis also has more signs that is desire to "not kill humans" is false, it takes him years to come to this point and in ep 6 when Lestat asks him to Louis acquieses. In the book it's more complicated, he thinks he is doing it out of morality but modern interviewee Louis admits its simply because Louis wanted to savor working his way up the scala natura of blood. BP's Louis gives 0 reason for his reluctance OR his change from not drinking human blood to doing so. The only scene in the movie where BP's Louis is interesting in this regard is the prostitute scene, where it would have been kinder to kill her quickly than drag it out like Lestat was doing. But why he changed after making Claudia is unclear. In the book it at least gives the explanation that the night with the prostitue's death and Claudia convinced Louis to give up. But in the movie Louis just seems boring due to his pigeonholing of "the moral one" compared to Lestat. JA's Louis is clearly more complex than just "sympathetic good guy" (talking about eps 1-4 I think the mistake of eps 5-6 in regards to Louis is that by making him the victim he is now once again more 2D and anything "bad" he does later can still be scene as a result of his abuse) and there is of course how JA can actually act in comparison to BP. Brad Pitt sure is coasting on that white mediocrity when you compare him to Jacob Anderson.

So yeah best version: 1994 movie family dynamics, explicit queerness,Tom Cruise Lestat, Jacob Anderson Louis. I can't put Kirsten and Bailey (two bad bitches) against each other tho that's unfair

#vc #asks

[straymackerel]

Can I request hc of Dazai and Ranpo with an s/o who is pretty intelligent but tends to undermine her own skills due to being constantly brushed off by nearly every authority figure in her life? She loves science and criminology but usually keeps it a secret since too many ppl fussed over it. Thank you🥺

➽─{awww my soft squishy heart ~ no one deserves to feel incapable like that}─❥

dazai osamu

• it all starts when dazai leaves new ada files wide open in the kitchen.

• “hey, that’s confidential!” he shouts playfully when he walks in on you skimming through them

• “but i wanna know more about your job,” you say back, a half-truth at best.

• (he actually couldn’t care less about the client’s privacy, and does nothing to stop you)

• “you figure anything out?” he asks after a while of observing you over a cup of coffee

• “not really, i’m purely curious,” you say, even though you’ve spotted many similarities between this case and another one you’ve been following for months.

• “darling, look up. look at me.” your head shoots up as he asks: “why are you lying to me?”

• your heart drops. it takes a long time, but he manages to draw an answer out of you––an answer he clearly doesn’t like.

• “you’re kidding, right? you understand that i have impeccable taste in women, right?! of course you have a good head on your shoulders!” he cries, flirtatious as ever

• he asks about your findings with genuine enthusiasm and interest, nodding with bright eyes as you explain your theories

• at first you’re unsure of yourself, but his constant affirmations eventually lead you to focus on your passion rather than your fears. you pick up the pace, eager to finally share with someone who values your thoughts.

• when he comes home from work, he confirms that your ideas have opened up promising new leads. “though it hardly comes as a surprise,” he adds.

• dazai wants to keep you out of harm’s way, so he quickly banishes the thought of letting the armed detective agency employ you

• dazai can’t lose another loved one; not when he’s just recovering, not when he’s still in yokohama. but he’ll help you switch your career/pathway if you’d like, scouring job listings for you. 

• (perhaps you’d like to become a private investigator at a more low-profile firm? or maybe use your background in science to work forensics for the police?)

• will joke about bringing you to work though, another tool in his arsenal of flattery

• “do me a favor and just do my job for me from now on? pretty pleeeeease??”

edogawa ranpo

• he noticed your potential to become a detective (or a scientist or anything you really wanna be tbh) from day one.

• though he usually keeps hush about his impressions of others (like dazai being ex-mafia), for some reason he can’t keep this one to himself.

• it’s in the way you flip through a newspaper, the way you take in your surroundings, the way you have some quiet background knowledge on every case he brags to you about, etc.

• (ha, you thought you could keep secrets from ranpo?? you may as well be screaming at him that you love criminology)

• it’s obvious you downplay yourself, and that doesn’t sit well with someone whose ego is so inflated.

• randomly, one night in bed: “you’re pretty observant, aren’t you?”

• you startle, nearly falling off the mattress because you thought he was already asleep.

• “compared to you? not at all,” you reply without so much as a second thought

• “that’s not my point,” he shoots back. “but if we’re talking comparisons, you must be on par with some of my coworkers. i’m sure of it.”

• the only time ranpo says things he doesn’t mean is when he’s being testy and childish, so you take his words at face value…

• …but that doesn’t make it any easier to absorb. you turn his words over in your head before asking how he came to that conclusion. “how do you figure?”

• “going through my process like a good old-fashioned detective? not interested,” he says, pulling the covers over his head. “bedtime!”

• “explain yourself!!” you cry, but to no avail. feel free to try again in the morning, but he literally wakes up on a mission;

• the next day, ranpo sets out to harass fukuzawa. the one-sided discussion ends quickly.

• whatever ranpo wants from the ada, he gets from the ada. in this case, it’s a job for you. not as a secretary, but as a full-fledged detective. don’t have an ability? doesn’t matter, you’re a permanent addition now.

• though you may never outshine ranpo, he will always rely on you to get to and from the office 😅😅

#bsd x reader #bsd hcs #bsd headcanons #ranpo headcanons #dazai headcanons #dazai hcs #ranpo edogawa #dazai osamu #ranpo hcs #bsd x reader hcs #bsd boyfriend

[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-

#btsboulangerie #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #bangtanidx #kim taehyung #taehyung #kim #v #bts v #bts #bts kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung au #artist au #artist taehyung #artist v #au #bts au #bangtan au #bangtan #reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #female #taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader au #v x reader #v x reader au #alternate universe

[theredpharaoah]

This take that Dany killing the slavers was actually a horrible thing is racist bullshit. This “two wrongs don’t make a right” logic you idiots use is so fucking irritating. Go tell the Haitians that they’re ancestors were horrible people for rebelling and killing the people that had enslaved them and their families. And then go take a round trip around the rest of the African diaspora. And this argument that what she did was bad because it left the slaves impoverished is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. I can guarantee you that being poor is a sure step up from being enslaved. You may not own much or anything as a poor person, but you don’t even own your own body as a slave. Then you guys say Dany’s crazy because she watched her older brother die without much reaction. The older brother that spent most of her life abusing her and had just threatened to kill her and her unborn child? That brother? Wtf are you people smoking? As an abuse victim myself, I’m here to tell you that Dany’s reaction was pretty fucking tame - I would’ve asked if I could be the one to pour the damn gold. She brought up him not being a real dragon, because not only was she pretty much immune to heat(show), but he use to say “don’t wake the dragon” as a way to keep her in line. And did anyone else ever stop to consider that she might’ve been in shock? The most powerful figure in her life since birth and her only family had just threatened to kill her and been killed as a result. Also, Dany was not mad at the end. Y’all cite paranoia but I truly don’t believe Dany was paranoid. Why? BECAUSE EVERYTHING SHE SAID WOULD HAPPEN WAS HAPPENING IN REAL TIME AND SHE FUCKING KNEW IT! Varys had been trying to poison her for weeks, Sansa was plotting against her. It’s amazing how quickly they hyped up Jon’s headass for doing a fraction of what she’d been doing for years. Also, it is within her rights to accept or deny a plea of surrender. She decided not to do so. Was Aegon crazy for burning down Harrenhal? The field of fire? Was Tywin crazy for sacking King’s Landing or for the Rains of Castamere? Was Arya crazy for baking Walder Frey’s two sons into pies and feeding it to him? Was Sansa crazy for feeding Ramsay to his dogs(spot the double standard between Sansa’s manner of dealing with her abuser of little more than a year, and Dany’s reaction to her lifelong abuser being killed). I don’t think Dany really cared that the ppl didn’t like her, the ppl of Westeros were just as shackled as the ppl in Slaver’s Bay had been. They just had shackles of silk and gold as opposed to iron. She knew she would be met with resistance but she was willing to deal with it for the ppl. And yeah I trust Dany because she spent the majority of her life being a poor beggar and was sold as a slave. And then ppl talk about her arrogance bringing her “overly large army” to the north. What?!?! They begged her to bring her army north to help them fight the white walkers, and Sansa had the nerve to be iffy and talk about how they couldn’t feed them. And let’s please remember that the majority of the people who died in the war against the others were from her army. They died for a bunch of rude ass ungrateful northerners. Then ppl say she didn’t have to kill the Tarlys. Yes she did. Randyll wouldn’t take the black because he said she didn’t have the authority to make him do so. Was she suppose to let a RENOWNED military commander go back to her enemies and plot their next move? Not to mention he turned on his liege lord - Olenna. Was she just suppose to forget he betrayed and killed her ally? The death by dragonfire being inhumane argument is absolute bullshit. Death by dragonfire is a traditional mode of execution, and it was employed all over the known world at different points in time(Valyrians as a whole in Essos and then the Targs in Westeros). The dragons are weapons of war and everyone knows this. They might’ve left for a while, but people’s reaction to her using them in this manner wouldn’t be shock. They grew up on stories of the Targ’s conquest and various exploits.

#game of thrones #danereys targaryen #daenerys deserved better #team daenerys

[mrs-falcon]

Vincent is finally getting his own ref sheet :3 This character is part of universe I created called "Shadows of the Real World", partly drawn, partly written complex story. Character created - 2017 (along with Raven) BASIC INFO: Current name: Vincent Jackson Former/Original name: Dmitry Sergeewich Trutliv (Дмирий Сергеевич Трутлив) (hopefuly english ppl will understand the pronounces xd ) - exhausted (looks like he's chill with almost everything) - can get easily mad/upset - quite slim figure after his mother - can be a loving parent/partner - caring about others he loves - hates his father - took care of Raven he'd found on streets Family: - father: Sergei Vasileevich Trutliv (Сергей Василеёвич Трутлив) (Black Yukon wolf) - mother: Alexandra Antonovna Trutliv (Александра Антоновна Трутлив) (Arctic x Eurasian wolf) - "stepmother": Melanie Manson (Shiba inu dog) - half-brother: Frederich Manson (Black Yukon wolf x Shiba inu dog) - partner: Sherab Azuki (irbis) - daughter: Rozaline Jackson (hybrid) Gender: male Age: 40 years (from the beginning of the written story) Height: 190 cm Species: inclination to Eurasian wolf Spoken languages: - native: Russian - first foreign language: English (American) - second foreign language: Japanese Born country: Russia Currently living in: USA Job: (currently) security guard in metal factory DETAILED HISTORY: [*WARNING - following text contains lots of triggers and mature stuff (such as abuse mention, violence, character's trauma mention,...), please read at your own risk] Born in a cage? First what Vincent, formerly Dmitry, remembers is aggressive voice going toward his mother. His father was a rich (yes - rich, not wealthy) and very famous person in his country for his position - Sergei was a successful communistic leader, business man and ... a professional rook. Living on far east part of Russia wasn't easy and, of course, not cheap. Thanks to Sergei's intelligence and extensive contacts he could easily manipulate with all people in his region, which led to exploitation of the lower classes working under his control, making Sergei's life much more "rich". However, a typical successful businessman has to have a perfect partner, right? Sergei's and Alexandra's encounter was a pure coincidence - Sergei needed a proper wife who would do anything according to her husband, Alexandra needed a man who would take care of her and financially secure her. Alexandra was a very young lady from a poor family. But what was worse than living from hand to hand was her untreated illness - fragile bones, fragile mind and a slowly growing cancer - that all was a secret Sergei never found out about. And due to Sergei's aggression and growing presure from his work and political position, Alexandra had to suffer slowly... and no-one could do anything about it. Not every home is the best After Alexandra gave birth to her son, Dmitry, she became even more fragile and exhausted. Her husband didn't care anymore, he only did his best to keep himself as a successful person in strangers' eyes. And because of that Alexandra had to gave up on her faith, who's a Orthodox Christian, and started to centralize around Vincent, her only hope. However, even in presence of their only child Sergei didn't hesitate to relieve his aggression on his wife. Alexandra was helpless - she could not leave without Dmitry, without money, without her own strength. Alexandra suffered five more years until she finally reached her prayed heaven, leaving her only son behind... Since Alexandra gave bith to her son, her health condition became worse, every day, and with this thought Sergei blamed little Dmitry from Alexandra's death and started developing aggression towards him. Little Dmitry, confused by why his father started hating him so much, tried to enjoy his free days somewhere outside. However, making friends with their long lasting rivals, tigers, was not acceptable, right? Little Dmitry learned another hurtful lesson. It took long time for Dmitry to get used to this life - he hated it, but he could not hate his birth country... which was taken away from him another five years later. Sergei could not handle the situation of his low class employees who finally after so many years started a revolution. Sergei's and Dmitry's home was in a centre of revolution - bricks broke the windows, fire engulfed the furniture... Sergei and Dmitry had to literally run away from this place, once called home, and run away from their country. Better start? America - a place of golden streets, a place of free lands. That was Sergei's new target. But was is exactly as he dreamd of? As other immigrants Sergei and Dmitry lived in crowded flats filled with filth and limited basic life needs. Dmitry was tangled to his father's back luck, whether he wanted it or not. But his father had still contacts. After few months they could move into a large, already rotten and almost fell apart, building with no-one around. Sergei saw a new change, Dmitry only worse start. His father started to get bored of his son's company and started neglect his son even more than before. Dmitry was sick of his new life, worse that before, but Dmitry's new "mother" was even bigger nightmare than he could imagine - a simple streetwalker only few years older than him. However, young people can get surprisingly mean. After Sergei's new mate, Melanie, found out about his fundations, she started to make a plan how to force Sergei leave all of his legacy for her. Best idea? Give him a better heir than Dmitry was. Get onto your own feet Dmitry could not handle the current situation in his life and decided to run away from his abuse father and his new rival. But who would accept a half-wild wolf cup in thier nest? With people's prejudices Dmitry started calling streets his new home since he had no other choice. And returning to his father? He would rather die than that. It didn't take Dmitry long to understand money are a key to, at least, standart life. But due to his low age no-one would employ a kid into their business... except for black markets and perverts. Ready or not, Dmitry knew living only from garbage wouldn't keep him alive for long. As a shadow, as a no longer officially existing person, Dmitry started making money through "gentle work" which left a great trauma on him. However, his first luck appeared - his body started to get features after his father and Dmitry started getting offers for street fighting. It wasn't exactly the best, but definitely better that his previous experience. "Vincent... now this sounds like a fighter!" Now Vincent earned his new identity and could finally afford a smaller flat and a proper food. He visited his "family" only few times since that. After that, he tried to focuse on his new, hopefully better, life. Luck! Luck! Luck! But that doesn't last forever With higher earnings everything went much more smooth. Vincent asked for asylum in a new region for young adults who aspired to find a job a leave the place as soon as possible. The workers of that place gave him few tips for work with recommendation. Another long years of his life Vincent kept up like a security guard. Was it a coincidence or not? The same working place was requested for a quite young female irbis immigrant, Vincent's future life partner - Sherab Azuki. Both of them did not honour the ancient traditions since Azuki was brought up by pair of ibex. Vincent knew this will be his life partner and tried his best to not lose her - he learned Japanese, found another two jobs for better earnings and even bought their own flat, that all only for his beloved Azuki. At the top of it, the pair was lucky to have their common child - Rozaline, tehir sweet Rose. Vincent could not even express his excitement and joy for his new, true family. His daughter and partner gave him new energy for their future life. Vincent tried to do his best he could, tried to be better father then his was. However, Vincents death number appeared once again... After the wolf came back from his work, he could not believe his eyes - Rose and Azuki were murdered. Who could do that? Someone who feared ancestros such as Vincent and Azuki were? Someone who did not accept hybrids? Someone who new Vincent was related to Sergei? There were so many options yet no-one could finds the true sinner of this terrible crime. Waiting for death The new energy quickly vanished, Vincent lost all of his jobs, his flat, his new hope. What did he do wrong for such terrible things that happened to him? Lost in emptiness of his inner world and left with despair, Vincent didn't try to continue in his life. Isolated at the far edge of the large city, somewhere in the middle of ruins, he waited for death to consume him. To quicken his "process" he started damaging his organs, especially lungs. But to the wolf's surprise his younger brother, now successful businessman like their father was, offered him a help. Vincent didn't trust his half-brother, but Frederich's current power over regions forced Vincent to join him. What an irony they ended up in the same place where it all began - in the old rotten building, now one of the greatest and high productionable metal factories in northern part of USA. Vincent wasn't surprised that this all inherited Frederich, now that their father is gone. But why so sudden? Even though Vincent was offered a job and a place to live, his current life was like a street's rat - hidding from the world and waiting for death... That all changed a young cat Vincent found behind the factory almost death, yet still breathing... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even tho Vincent's past was more drastic, Vincent's and Raven's lives are somehow very alike... This kind of "storytelling" leaves a lots of quetions. Does the Sergei's death and Vincent's murdered family have a connection? And what about Frederich? We haven't heard much of him in this post... Artwork, Vincent, story & SotRW (universe) © MrsFalcon (FalconFeatherTheCat) (me)

#my art #vincent #sotrw #reference sheet #ref sheet #drawing #digital art #digital drawing #Digital Illustration #digital #wolf #anthropomorphic #anthro furry #anthro #original character #original #my oc

[lanamemories2]

THE CHARACTER STATISTICS

FULL NAME — lana rose jameson

NICKNAME — idk if she has many nicknames altho.... rod exclusively calls her banana..... some call her lana banana n her teacher as a kid wld call her lala land bc she ws always nt focusing..... bt mostly ppl call her lana......... she “dated” a loser tht wld exclusively call her sugar nips bt >_> i can’t let tht count i simply can’t..... i’ll throw up.

D.O.B. — june 2nd 1998

LINK TO THEIR PINTEREST BOARD OR TAG ON YOUR BLOG — tag n pinterest

STAR SIGN / MOON & RISING — gemini / virgo / pisces

MBTI — ESFP (the entertainer)

MORAL ALIGNMENT — chaotic good

MARITAL STATUS & SEXUALITY — single n bisexual

LANGUAGES — english

TALENTS / HOBBIES — dancing, origami (doesn’t rly publicise tht), rollerskating, cheer (altho i think she’s prob given tht up nw she’s working), humming ALL the time, collecting records, shopping, partying ig bc she does it 24/7

TOP 5 MUSICIANS —  the velvet underground, wild cherry, the rolling stones, donna summer n robyn

FAVOURITE BOOK — isn’t rly a big reader....... she read mre when she ws younger bt she’d find it difficult to concentrate n nt lose her place on a page...... she mostly liked picture books i think her fav as a kid wldv been one of those big illustrated encyclopedias of fairies

FAVOURITE FILM & TV SHOW — she likes musicals like cabaret n rocketman n moulin rouge bt then also coraline n moonrise kingdom n twilight n my neighbour totoro..... i think she likes anything thts rly pretty n interesting to look at. lovs sex n the city fr tv probably gossip girl.... vampire diaries :/ lots of trashy stuff.... also broad city

FAVOURITE VIDEO GAME — she doesn’t rly play games bt she does luv the princess peach game fr the nds

WHAT DID THEY DO THIS PAST SUMMER? — she usually jets off to like 5742759742 countries bt i think except fr visiting caleb montgomery (shout out 2 alli lov u) in paris fr a handful of days one week she stayed local n worked at the burlesque club n jst hd a sexy time in lovell going wild.............. living the vida loca................

WHERE HAVE THEY TRAVELLED? — god. literally sm places i cldnt even name them all.......... spits on the floor.......... me in a riot club vc: i am SICK to DEATH of RICH PPL! (new way sexier version)

DO THEY TAKE ANY PRESCRIPTIONS? — she’s been prescribed like 985729574 diff things fr adhd over the yrs bt she nvr rly tkes them ://// she hd a bad experience w one where it mde her feel kind of lethargic n sad n since she jst.... amasses them in her bedside cabinet instead of taking them.

DO THEY HAVE ANY DIAGNOSIS’S? — adhd n when she attended a few sessions of therapy her therapist quickly recognised she hd ptsd n lots of.... unexplored trauma :/ sighs.... 

FICTIONAL CHARACTER THEY ARE MOST LIKE? — penny lane, molly gunn, alabama worley, satine (moulin rouge).... also reminds me of edie sedgwick (factory girl) n linda lovelace (lovelace) bt they’re technically real so 🤷

ARE THEY EMPLOYED? WHERE DO THEY WORK? — at a burlesque club in downtown lovell!! she’s a 💃

WERE THEY POPULAR IN HIGH SCHOOL? — ya lana jst...... was friends w n slept w everyone bt she ws kind of like marmite like u love or u hate her....... bc of hw promiscuous/wild she ws n whether ppl agreed w tht or not.... mostly loved tho i wnt lie

DO THEY DO DRUGS? ya she’ll honestly jst.... tke whatever someone gives her she’s very ://// impressionable n up fr anything

DRINK? — ya way..... way too mch n often

SMOKE CIGARETTES? — non merci!

SMOKE WEED? — again ya bt usually jst if ppl offer she doesn’t buy fr herself

WHERE WERE THEY BORN? WHERE DID THEY GROW UP? — her mum went into labour bkstage at a rock concert in nyc bt her family home is in albany n she grew up sort of like.... between there n nyc n LA bc her dad’s company hd studios dwn there

DO THEY PLAN TO GO TO GRAD SCHOOL? — no

WHAT ARE THEIR PLANS POST-GRADUATION? — lana doesn’t believe in plans. prefers spontaneous. deciding things on whims

PARENTS NAMES — richard n victoria (rich n vic)

DO THEY HAVE SIBLINGS? NAMES & AGES? — caleb jameson!!!! holds his severely depressed hand. he’s 25 or mayb 26 now?? much to contemplate.

DO THEY HAVE PETS? TYPES & NAMES? — no pets lana’s so forgetful n irresponsible she’d completely blank on feeding it n get rly sad when she realised so it’s jst.... best nt to...... even tho she does Love animals

ARE THEY RELIGIOUS? WHAT IS THEIR RELIGION IF SO? — no altho she does tlk to her brother’s best friend tommy in her dreams n in some ways tht feels kind of religious like he’s....... still here w her trying to keep her safe in some way....... she wld nvr say tht bt she likes to think so

HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE THEY SLEPT WITH? — god i genuinely cld Not even estimate.... it’s easily in the hundreds...... she hs ://// a problem

WHAT VEHICLE DO THEY DRIVE? IF THEY DON’T DRIVE, HOW DO THEY TRAVEL AROUND TOWN? — if she ws gna get a car it’d b a pastel convertible cadillac she’s obsessed w them she thinks they’re the coolest car.... bt she’s an awful driver. honestly she typically gets driven around everywhere by ppl..... or ubers

DESCRIBE THEIR FASHION — luvs red so a lot of tht bt honestly jst a lot of colour in general altho mainly warm tones...... penny lane style jackets, pastel faux fur coats, lots of slip dresses, corduroy flares, crochet tops, skimpy sequin halters, lots of sheer, glitter, red cowboy boots, go-go boots, any form of seventies platform, jst like.... lots of statement pieces.... LOTS of strange sunglasses elton john style..... sometimes jst randomly accessorises w stickers on random body parts...... doesn’t believe in being overdressed jst wears whtever she wants whenever she wants

DO THEY PREFER TO BE BEHIND THE CAMERA OR IN FRONT OF IT? — in front

DO THEY BELIEVE ANY OF THE STORIES ABOUT RADCLIFFE? WHICH ONES? — no lana prefers to mke up her own like she hs this whole one abt the trees where she thinks they hv souls in them n mkes up stories fr the diff lives the trees lived......... hers r nvr rly tht scary just fun n whimsical.....

DO THEY THINK THE MOTHMAN IS HOT? — yes

A QUOTE THAT DESCRIBES THEM —  “She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.”

A SONG THAT THEY WOULD RELATE TO — disco biscuit love by the jezabels ://////

#ruhqtask001 #ruhqtask #this is Not sexily formatted or anything bt......... im jst a mere woman................ of simple means.......... flings it

[comicteaparty]

January 22nd-January 28th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from January 22nd, 2020 to January 28th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

How do you react to comics going on hiatus, and how does that affect your readership for it?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Being a webcomic artist, I'm always very understanding when an author needs a break. Life happens, and most of us are hobbyists. I will wait as long as it takes for the comic to come back, even if that means years. I'll keep checking in every few months unless the artist makes a post saying the comic is dead and they're moving on (and if 'moving on' means starting a new comic, I'll usually start following it). I have quite a few life circumstances that have forced long hiatuses of my own comics, so I feel it would be a tad hypocritical of me to give up on a comic that needs a long break or has to update very infrequently for a while. Also since I have trouble following a lot of comics at once, my reading list is fairly short and it's easier for me to be very dedicated to and patient with the comics I do read.(edited)

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Even before I started doing webcomics, I knew it wasn't the end of the world when a comic went on hiatus. Like, it's free entertainment, I don't blame the author for not sticking to a specific schedule. As for if it affects my readership... yeah? I usually stop checking in after a year or so if a comic hasn't had any updates, and even in that time I don't check up very often. And I don't often re-read hiatus'd comics until they come back off hiatus (as a sort of refresher) so they don't usually get my readership that way either.

varethane

I don't have any hard feelings when creators go on hiatus, whatever their reasons; life happens, webcomics are a lot of work for (often) little compensation, and people's priorities change over time. It's fine. I am one of those readers who is often prone to having a short attention span, though, so I confess that if a comic goes on hiatus and its creator isn't active on social media, there's a pretty good chance I'll lose track of it. And if the comic returns after a hiatus of more than a year, it may take some months before I will come back as a reader, just because I would need to reread the story in order to catch back up with what's going on.

SAWHAND

I don't tend to keep up with webcomics on a day-to-day basis anyway. I prefer to wait and then be able to binge-read a whole chapter or at least a few pages at a time. I actually really like when comics do a brief hiatus in between chapters to build up a backlog of pages and then post a lot of pages quickly (more than someone usually would do anyway) and then go back on hiatus. Kind of like seasons on tv.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I just had a hiatus that went longer than a year so I can't really fault an artist for needing a break. I understand, and also it doesnt bother me too much because I just read whenever there is an update, it's not like I'm checking at the scheduled time or anything! When it updates, I'll be there.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Life happens, circumstances change, people grow. So many of us are making webcomics at very transformative times of our lives - we can outgrow the stories, get tired of them, or begin to associate them with bad memories (poor artistic partnerships, commercial failures, etc). If a really good webcomic I follow goes on hiatus, of course I'll be disappointed. But behind every webcomic is an author with a life. If the webcomic is keeping their life from improving, then screw the webcomic. I'm always far more concerned about the person.(edited)

I get SO much joy watching webcomics come back after a long hiatus. It's worth any sadness felt during the hiatus itself. And I'm not happy just because the story is back - but because it's a sign that the author has taken care of themselves. You can often feel it in the new pages. It's really cool and good to see.

2

January 23, 2020

Kabocha

I think it depends on the comic. I prefer it when a creator can say, "hey, I'm going on hiatus" so I know to stop checking (or to set my expectations accordingly). They don't necessarily have to post an end date, but if they can, that's always good! Sometimes creators just stop updating, and that's fine too. But one's comic's site is going to be the central hub for anything regarding your comic's news, too. There are some comics where... I'm a little less understanding of hiatuses with complete silence -- and these are usually ones that have an actual publisher backing them and paying for the project's completion. Like, I get that life gets in the way, but when making said comic is your job -- or you have a perceived contractual obligation, maybe your publisher ought to step up and say something if the project is on hold or delayed or something. There's something about the line between "I am doing this project for free and the occasional donation" versus "I am getting paid for this project's completion as a product" that kind of... I dunno, makes the whole thing feel a little different? Like, sure, it might be up for free online, but like... when there's an actual publisher or platform paying the creator to make it it and they've got editors and stuff... It's less like someone's brain baby and more like a product. I actually have a folder in my favorites for comics on hiatus, but ArchiveBinge also tells me when they updated last, so... Not a huge deal. My ability or desire to read a project isn't hugely affected by a comic's status on hiatus, but I have found with some comics that come back years after going on a break... Well, I've changed enough that I'm no longer their target audience. And it can suck to realize that.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@LadyLazuli (Phantomarine) Oh man, your comment about being able to feel that an author has taken care of themselves after coming back from a long hiatus reminded me of when I once returned a comic from a 3 year long hiatus. I had put it on hiatus after a ‘friend’ completely ripped it apart and essentially called it trash. I was already going through some really bad stuff IRL and I lost all motivation to keep going. But three years later I came back, and the colours in the pages were so much brighter and more vibrant. The change was so obvious a reader actually gave me an impassioned speech about how the previous muted, greyish palette was a a better fit for the story. But only a few pages later they changed their mind and said they were wrong; the more vivid colours worked after all. I think maybe they could see how happy I was to be working on it again.... and maybe just how much happier I was in general. Sorry for the long anecdote; that second paragraph just really hit home for me. (edited)

MJ Massey

I think it depends on a few factors for me. In general I am pretty understanding of hiatus in general - it can be really good for the creator to take a break and set things in order for themselves as well as putting out work they enjoy rather than rushing to get a page out. Especially if this is someone's side gig. I appreciate it all the more if the creator can be honest. Even if they can't give a return date, coming out and saying "I can't work on this comic right now" is enough and perfectly fine

I get annoyed if someone who is PAID to make a comic just disappears and won't take responsibility. If it's your job, then you can't just run away from it. Again, even saying something like "I cannot work on the comic for now" is fine, but don't just run off and make some vague remarks on your social media that's not even where your readers normally engage with you.

I also agree that any partners, like a publisher or editor, that might be employing said artist could also step up and let readers know what's going on. If any of that happens, I am happy to wait as long as it takes

Readers are more understanding than you think, it's okay to just come out and say you're gonna miss updates, need time off, etc. You don't need to say anything more than that.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I'm not quite understanding the hostility towards people who get paid for creating webcomics, but hiatuses aren't something i could really call our personal business to make any calls regarding their obligations. Like @LadyLazuli (Phantomarine) said, life happens and circumstances change. I'm pretty sure whomever the creator is with has their own reasons as creative projects evolve differently for everyone and that their parties concerned have dealt with it in a necessary way. That is just the nature of them, we won't know or understand the full picture, and while i get being disappointed, it's not something that can be helped! I encourage hiatuses in fact, because webcomics are A LOT of work!! It can give the creator time for revisions, writing the story, and general self reflection of the project. I've stated this before on twitter, but ppl tend to forget that webcomics are typically made by 1-2 ppl and can produce the quality/quantity easily created by a small studio. Take a break!

Kabocha

It's not a hostility thing necessarily, but I do think that when, like, an actual publisher is involved, there should be some sort of expectation of... I dunno, communication? Traditionally published books and such get delayed (and canceled), but usually there's some form of communication as to the change in release dates or if it's going to come out at all. I think that's more or less the expectation with something that's being paid for by a publisher: That there's some form of communication between the audience regarding the story's state or future. It doesn't have to be a total "HI THIS IS MY LIFE" just more of a "hi the comic's on hold". But hiatuses, I think, are maybe different than a break? As a creator, I traditionally take a break between chapters to do editing and such, but I think a hiatus tends to be more... unplanned for. (and I'm not exempt from going on hiatus - I've had issues this winter that made it necessary for me to tell my readers "hi I'm not updating until april". So I'm sympathetic to health/life -- but I do think a "hi the comic's on hold" on the comic's site is warranted in a lotta cases.)

(or hell, even a "the comic's canceled" is fine too hoo boy, I just saw one that I wasn't aware of that got canceled for life issues... I feel for the creators.)

RebelVampire

I'm kind of on the higher standard for creators who are being paid to do it as a job train. At least a higher standard of communication. Cause I never really consider the hiatus itself the problem, but how the author communicates about the hiatus. Cause again, when being paid to do something, I just kind of expect more professionalism, and communication is a huge part of professionalism.

Kabocha

I think webcomics with a publisher -- like, an actual "hi we are paying you to produce this work" that isn't just patreon -- it's more of a commercial work. In one of the cases I have in mind, they're paid to do it per-page, through a well-known webcomics publisher. Sure, the creator loses out, because they're not being paid, but it is also a commercial work in the end. They have an editor, ostensibly someone to communicate with them and the manager, and went through some sort of acquisitions process to sell the work to that publisher. Kinda like the difference between "hi this is my fanfic" versus "hi this is my book that I got put through a small press pub"

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I agree. Ghosting your paying customers is very unprofessional. Just informing readers that there’s a break or cancellation feels necessary if money’s involved. I‘d feel pretty burned if a comic I was pledging for on patreon just stopped updating for more than a few months without any communication whatsoever. A quick note that says ‘Hey, my comic is on break for an indeterminate amount of time because I need to take care of some things / am creatively exhausted / whatever other vague reason’ and I would understand. But if I’m paying the creator and they just vanish without a word, you can bet I won’t trust them enough to pay them again even if they come back later.

RebelVampire

Yeah. Those are my feels too. That it doesn't even need to be some essay message. It's just the giving a heads up so you're not sitting there staring wondering if someone fell into the abyss.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

You can say Tessa Stone, it's okay.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I... I don’t know who that is?

Nutty (Court of Roses)

She was the author of Hanna is Not a Boy's Name. Very popular webcomic, did a kickstarter for a book, then vanished with the money, and reappeared four years later working for another company.

Kabocha

That's... Not who was in mind.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Oh wow that’s scummy.

I’d read the comic waaaaay back but dropped it long before there was a KS.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

Yeah. Other than that, I always understand when hiatuses happen, we all have lives outside our comics.

RebelVampire

Professional comics aside, overall, for me, my reaction to a comic going on hiatus depends on a ton of factors. I will preface this first part, is that I'm always understanding of it. Life happens, interests change, etc. etc. etc. I would never tell a creator not to go on hiatus or that they were magically a bad creator or something for needing to stop for a bit (or indefinitely). People should take care of themselves both physically and emotionally first, so I get why hiatuses happen. That being said, I as a reader also have my own life. And the fact of the matter is, there are thousands of comics out there to read - many of which are not on hiatus. So I'd be lying if I said a hiatus had no effect on whether I'd continue to read a comic. That being said, it's not like a hiatus will make me instantly drop a comic either. This is where the many factors come in. Like how much do I love the comic? Has the creator communicated about the length of the hiatus and given a heads up? Does the comic have a very unreliable history of hiatusing and coming back and then immediately hiatusing etc.. Which again, I get and sympathize with creators and hiatuses. But there's a point where you just gotta move on if the comic's updating isn't to your liking.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

also i just want to chime in and say that as one of those people who get paid to make my comic i don't appreciate it being called commercial work. It's still the creators property and honestly the money earned doesn't change the product, nor should it change the 'merit' of a hiatus. Hiatuses are also planned and not planned. They are both breaks and unseen stops in work, they are necessary and needed- much like vacation time or sick leave at other jobs. Having been paid for making comics shouldn't differ with who is more worthy of one. Again, they all happen with reasons the public doesn't need to fully know bc even if the work is produced 'free to read', it's still not an obligation to the readers for any full disclosure. I get being dissapointed, it's a work you enjoy, but like any type of work, schedules change, lives conflict, and projects get canceled.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don’t think anyone is saying that we mind hiatuses when comic artists are being paid, we all explicitly stated we mind poor communication about it from the creator

Big difference

varethane

the main thing I look sideways at is a creator who ghosts their existing audience and goes incommunicado for years, and then returns with either the same product or something very similar. I'm not so much mad, as.... unlikely to keep reading their work, even once it's back? Or I'll have trouble convincing myself to dive back in, even if it still looks like it should be my thing. I'm thinking of a specific comic I used to read called Astray3, which stopped updating with no news updates sometime in like..... 2011? And then after a year or so the website went down, and I assumed that was just.... it, the creator had left comics. Then just this year I was thinking about it while talking to friends and did a google search, and discovered that it was back On a new webhost, totally rebooted and fresh, with gorgeous new art

I had no idea, lol. I guess it had been back for maybe a year or two? It's really beautiful, and if I'd found it fresh I'd probably be super excited to dive in, but I haven't gotten around to it yet and that's the only real reason I can think of as to why.

This is a personal thing though. I don't know why all that happened or what led the creator to shelve the comic, I bear them no hard feelings. I just..... may or may not start reading again (maybe I will when I get some time!! Who knows lol)

keii4ii

@varethane I gotta say I'm sort of guilty of that. I stopped working on my previous comic after I'd gotten pretty far in the story. Things happened IRL and I just couldn't keep working on that story. My main site host died (the hosting business closed), and I didn't leave a proper goodbye on my SJ mirror. Then a few years later, I came back elsewhere with a new comic. X'D I don't really have a point here (yet?), just waving a hand from the other side of the fence.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

@Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) im responding to the commercial work comment

varethane

I don't even really think there IS a fence, lol. There are so many reasons why I may or may not read a comic, up to and including how I happen to feel on a given day; when I read something really often has more to do with my mood than with how much I feel like it 'should' appeal to me, so long breaks in updates are just one more ingredient in the big old soup of 'will I jump into this story today'

keii4ii

Yeah, readers come and go all the time, for all sorts of reasons

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'd also like to wave my hand from the side of the fence of "basically going completely radio silent" I did it because I had an incredibly difficult personal experience, that I didnt really want to share with all of my readers, and I don't think I should HAVE to share what happened in order for it to be valid for me to have dropped off like that for a while.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Exactly what Deo said

varethane

while I agree you don't need to say why, a quick news update saying 'hey something came up and this won't update for awhile, maybe forever' would be appreciated in a lot of cases

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

but the thing is, nobody said you have to say what happened It doesn't have to be a total "HI THIS IS MY LIFE" just more of a "hi the comic's on hold". like it's the difference between saying "there won't be updates for a while" and just leaving the comic hanging on the latest page with no comment.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, I don’t think anyone needs to leave a reason. But if people are paying you, just a ‘Hey this is on a break’ to the audience.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I did say "hi I'm gonna be on hiatus!" and people did still get upset with me for being gone so long so :/

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

well they were rude

varethane

I don't read anything as obsessively as I used to, but one of the first webcomics I ever read trailed off forever with 'see you next week!' as the last news update lmao

I went back to that homepage like a million times

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Theres no winning with it honestly. I haven't had a hiatus with my comic im working on now, but a previous one earned us threats when we had a break

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

People getting upset isn’t your fault. You communicated, and that’s all you needed to do. We all know some readers can be fickle or downright rude.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

IN THEIR DEFENSE i did say "brief hiatus" cause the situation around it was really weird, and then it was a very not brief one

varethane

no excuse for bein rude about it tho >:U sorry to hear about that!

keii4ii

Yeeeah

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

The threats that we got and harassment definitely made me realize that you don't owe ppl any thing. It's your work, and at the end of the day, you're the one in charge. We literally don't know the reasons to the breaks of a fave creator, it could be something as simple as boredom to something dire. I again i understand the want for communication but there are times where it just doesn't come first or at all.

I think in the situation of finding a ks or something u paid for directly? Yes, you deserve that right to know. But a project that isn't going to affect u in that way, well, it's a mystery we're not owed sometimes

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah I'm just gonna get back to making it, and if people are going to leave and be upset with me I... cant control that... so I shouldnt try or worry about it. just offering the perspective of someone who p much did drop off the face of the earth

oh yeah for something youve paid for its different

Kabocha

Allow me to say that when I say commercial work, I mean it strictly in a "This is a thing that you are making money or aiming to turn a profit from." That's it. There's a difference in expectations, I think, for something where the creator is doing it as their job vs the creator doing it as a hobby. (but also -- like, if you have a publisher or an agent, they should be stepping in to help you field things like communication!!)

But also yes -- my essential point is that communication is key.

And yes, there is an overlap between hobby and earning money off said hobby, but once a thing is available for consumption as something you're earning income off of, I think the expectations ought to be slightly different. I think it's fair to expect someone to say "hi I'm taking a break" on the comic site. Edited to clarify the "income" part of this -- I mean like, a significant portion of your income. Tips are always appreciated, but don't generate an obligation in any sense of the imagination imo. Or like. Yanno, a publishing deal? I dunno. But that gets into contractual stuff.(edited)

spacerocketbunny

As long as someone didn't literally run off with your money, I think a bit more empathy and compassion can be exercised, even if the only communication that's provided is radio silence. It just happens man, sometimes life sucks and you don't get to have a word in edge-wise. There's just so many factors as to why it can happen, it's not a divide between who does and doesn't get a paycheck for their work. Stuff happens and at the end of the day it's still free content that's available to you.

Like @RebelVampire said too, it's totally up to you what you do with your engagement when hiatuses come up

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Agreed

Basically, i hope that if ever the case a creator drops from their project without notice or any word, readers express concern and compassion

Kabocha

That is a fair expectation -- and readers need to remember not to be jerks about it.

Mei

Reading through all of this was super interesting. I think hiatuses are just something that in a medium like webcomics is something to almost 'expect'? if that makes sense? Whether it's because of personal reasons, or work reasons, or any reason that we as readers are not privy to, I think it's part of the process. Of course it's great when creators mention they're going on a hiatus, but I suppose it's also having that understanding that sometimes creators may lose the drive or motivation for what they're creating, and they need a break from it. But yeah, I think it'd be awesome for readers to show understanding for webcomics going on hiatus for a short while or indefinitely. They're a LOT of work and most of the time life takes precedent over that?

RebelVampire

I just want to add myself that jerk readers are a diff issue all together and they are legit not the readers you should care about. Cause at the end of the day, you will never ever make them happy whether you communicate or not. So ignore them and do what you need. The communication is for everyone else who isn't rude and likes your comic (whether a vocal fan or a silent fan). Cause frankly, I think it also shows a certain amount of respect as well for readers when the author communicates their status. But just to clarify in case it wasn't clear in my own statement, you are not obligated to share your life story. TBH, I don't even read people's life essays for their reasons in a lot of cases cause it's their personal business. The reasons for the hiatus are largely irrelevant. But you can still leave a small message that says "Hey I'm not gonna be updating for a bit." Like that's not an exaggeration. That's all you have to say. XD Last, I do want to add, of course there are exceptions to this with extenuating circumstances. Like I know a few people who have had all means of communication break for them - and that of course is understandable then. Since it's not that they didn't want to communicate, it's that they literally had no choice in the matter.

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