#armypedia

[myobsessionsspace]

ARMYPEDIA LIVE

Live performances of:

No More Dream

Just One Day

Like

💜

[btslittlecorner]

I got scared by the last bangtan post on Twitter haha. But something is definitely going on 👀 Aaaaah! I love ARMY in detective mode trying to figure out numbers and theories

[myobsessionsspace]

Bangtan Related

Page 1 • Page 2

Posts:

Ddaeng

Love In The Houses

ARMYpedia Live

BTS Room Live

Pink Butterfly Jin

Chingu

UGH!

Hope On The Street x Usher

Run BTS

Necessary For Every BTS Fan

Rookie King - Open Up Your Heart Part 1 & Part 2

All My #613

Jin & Phone Calls

JinJungJikook/2Seok & Jikook

BANGBANG CON 2024 Masterlist

BTS & The Camera:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

NOTICE: WATCH ORIGINAL CONTENT

[jung-koook]

I think its going to be like armypedia 🥺 we need to go and try to find their presents 🥺🥹

[abcthv9597]

I was randomly thinking of Armypedia and then I got struck with a realization! The "pedia" part in it is literally the Greek word for education (παιδεία, read as peh-thee-ah)!

[hopeonmyphone]

BigHit Instagram Stories

oh no…it took me back to the days of armypedia!

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

I’m sorry but it is beyond me how people don’t see what’s behind the "awkwardness" between Jikook. It was just so obvious to me from the very beginning of being a fan, I don’t get how people don’t get it? The contrast between how affectionate JK can be with his hyungs, like Hobi for eg, who he always likes to go for cuddles, and how he seems to be walking on eggshells when it comes to Jimin, sometimes more sometimes less. Which doesn’t match at all what we know about Jikook, being extremely close, if not the closest members, from their own mouths or staff or other witnesses, oftentimes even referred as a unit. And then you have some 'wtf just happened' moments like GCF in Tokyo, Rosebowl, the hickey, to just tell a very few. Moments that would make 0 sense if you think these two aren’t close. Now just try to connect the dots…? I don’t know about you, but if I had to act like my boyfriend, with whom I’ve been for years, wasn’t my boyfriend, in front of a public, or even cameras… I wouldn’t know what to do with myself and how to behave/say to him. Just imagine yourself, put yourself in their shoes with that scenario in mind. I don’t know I guess I’m being condescending and I’m sorry if I sound annoyed but it’s really not that hard to understand, I don’t get why people are so clueless about this. Maybe that’s because I see a lot of myself in JK. I don’t think he’s really good at acting and lying, he gets tense and act awkward indeed. I feel for him. But honestly, to me the whole picture makes total sense, he’s deeply in love with Jimin and unfortunately still have to hide it, sometimes he gives it away, let’s his guard down, in other circumstances he doesn’t or just simply can’t.

No, I understand you. That's how I see it as well. But even if Jungkook is sometimes a bit awkward when Jimin flirts or touches him, their body language doesn't lie. Jungkook often stares at Jimin's lips and lets Jimin get way too close to him, so even when he does pull away, it's way later than anyone else would've been comfortable with (eg. their "almost kiss" - JK pulled back from Jimin when their lips were almost touching but anyone else wouldn't have even let Jimin's face come that close to theirs and there are plenty of examples to prove it). When Jungkook and Jimin sit together, for example, their bodies are often angled towards each other (eg. Armypedia) or touching (eg. 2020 NYE live, that famous Run BTS episode, or the maknae line + Hobi PTD live). But then you have times like the MOTS: 7 comeback live where Jimin was in Jungkook's space but Jungkook was sitting conspicuously still for someone who is always fidgeting - and when Jimin laid his head on Jungkook's knee, Jungkook's hands flexed like he wanted to touch Jimin but couldn't and was super aware of it.

The fact that Jungkook has such clear boundaries and established dynamics with other members, and his behavior towards them is so predictable, yet he can be such a wild card when it comes to Jimin is really telling.

Thanks for the ask! Believe me, I understand your frustration.

[mediapiays]

Do we think we'll get another doc for Muse? Maybe on his birthday again, hopefully in theaters this time. And what do you think the bonus live on the schedule is since we have the fallon performance now. I hope it's an album performance where he does the full 20 minutes. Either with choreo or tiny desk style. 🤞🤞

I hope we do 🤞 and I think the bonus live is probably sgmb + who + a bside of choice (probably be mine), smth intimate like the armypedia thing bts did in 2019 and the take two live

[hopeonmyphone]

Armypedia is back!!

What are they preparing?

[namchyoon]

It'll probably be like armypedia (?)

yeah the translation of the tweet said that it's to go find ads and stuff!

[bat-yenny]

Veja "[BTS]’Just One Day’ and ‘I Like It’ ARMYPEDIA" no YouTube

[darlinbangtan]

hi pretty boy (@vlive)

[hisunshiine]

— armypedia 🧩 series

⟢ pairing: none, though mentions of random hookups for some members

⟢ credit: co-written with @heathfritillary​ who JUST MADE a tumblr ♡

⟢ genre: horror au | thriller au | angst | minor smut | thriller/spooky |

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ warnings: Horror, Psychological Horror, Additional Warnings Identified In Each Chapter including: Violence, Kidnapping, Torture, Pain, Delusional Thinking, Explicit Language, Non-Explicit Mentions of Sex and Sexual Activity, Minor Character Death, Weapons, Fire, Blood

⟢ wc: 15,782 total

⟢ summary: Wanna play a game? 🧩The members of BTS find themselves awakening, one by one, seemingly abducted and with no clue as to what is going on. Soon, they'll have to piece together puzzles designed specifically for the KPOP group as they are forced to participate in a sick game of life and death, conducted by someone who has a point to prove. This eight chaptered horror fanfic takes inspiration from the movie franchise, Saw.

⟢ author’s note: *DISCLAIMER* This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This is a fictional story. The authors do NOT depict the members as written in the story nor do they believe or claim to know the actual lives of BTS. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This is strictly for entertainment purposes, only.

[completed]

                                 | back to hisunshiine masterlist |

Prologue

Chapter 1: Hoseok: This Little Lie of Mine

Chapter 2: Yoongi: Blind Trust

Chapter 3: Seokjin: True Image

Chapter 4: Jimin & Taehyung: Together 'Til the End

Chapter 5: Jungkook: The Ones That Love Me So

Chapter 6: Namjoon: You A-R e M-Y light

Chapter 7: Epilogue: Teamwork Makes the Dreamwork

[hisunshiine]

— armypedia 🧩  jungkook

Chapter 5: Jungkook: The Ones That Love Me So

⟢ pairing: none

⟢ credit: co-written with @heathfritillary​​ ♡

⟢ genre: horror au | thriller au | angst | minor smut | thriller/spooky |

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ story warnings: Horror, Psychological Horror, Violence, Kidnapping, Torture, Pain, Delusional Thinking, Explicit Language, Minor Character Death, Weapons, Fire, Blood, Additional Warnings Identified This Chapter: mentions of death, mentions of sex/sex workers, torture devices, pain: psychological and physical, fear

⟢ wc: 1,552

⟢ summary: Wanna play a game? 🧩 The members of BTS find themselves awakening, one by one, seemingly abducted and with no clue as to what is going on. Soon, they’ll have to piece together puzzles designed specifically for the KPOP group as they are forced to participate in a sick game of life and death, conducted by someone who has a point to prove. This eight chaptered horror fanfic takes inspiration from the movie franchise, Saw.

⟢ author’s note: thanks for reading for spooky season. please remember this is a work of fiction. we love all of the members equally and very much. this is only for spooky season. please respect their privacy irl.

                  | armypedia masterlist | hisunshiine masterlist |

Ankles bound, arms spread and unable to move, his voice grew raspier as he kept hollering after help. He had no clue where he was nor how he’d even gotten there. Pitch black. He couldn’t see anything and the only thing he heard was the sound of his own decreasing voice and the shackles that kept him in place. Although he wasn’t able to use his sight, the unbearable heat made the situation worsen. Sweat dripping down his temples as well as his back, Jungkook felt uncomfortable. He had no idea what time it was, let alone how long he'd been held captive.

“Namjoon?” He kept yelling after his bandmates, they were the few memories he could recall of before awakening. “Hyung!”

Defeated, he hung his head and attempted to catch his breath whilst slightly tugging at the heavy chains. He noticed a light begin to glow from below him, a square shaped box lighting up. Gazing down, he bewilderingly frowned at a pink stuffed animal approaching the screen, gasping lightly when he recognized the bunny as his creation for ARMY’s.

“Jeon Jungkook, I’d like to play a little.” The distorted voice of someone using a voice altering filter said. “You claim you love your devoted fans. For years, you have been beloved by many, but how much do you care for those who have devoted their lives for you?” A loud buzzer went off and he hastily glanced around when the place he was being held lit up. “Take a look inside.”

Jungkook blinked repeatedly to adjust to the rapid change from dark to light, and in front of him was a glass window. A flickering light turned on from the other side where he could make out two women; they stood bound and gagged. Disturbed by the vision of them standing on a plank with what appeared to be a noose loosely tied around each of their necks. Both sets of eyes lit up when they adjusted to the light in the room and recognized him. They began to scream at him for help, their pleading voices muffled through the glass, but filled with utter dread.

“You may know these women; they certainly know you, Jeon Jungkook. To your right is your most problematic sasaeng known by her fansite name headliner_jk and on your left,” his gaze moved to the other, who appeared to have wet herself in fear, “meet Carrot NUNA. Both of these women have gone above and beyond to capture your every little move and it is safe to say that they are known as horrible people who deprive artists like yourself of a moment of privacy. Jeon Jungkook, you have a choice to make here.”

“You sick fuck! What is this? Let me go!” he shouted at the screen below him while attempting to rip himself free of his confinements.

“If you love ARMY's, you love all of them, even the bad ones. There is a handle on each side of your hand, and you can only hold on to one, choose one you want to save. If you decide to do nothing, those chains keeping you steady will begin to move apart, eventually ripping your arms from your torso. The choice is yours, Jungkook, save a sasaeng or don’t. You have three minutes.”

The screen turned off and he immediately cursed after the creepy voice that was using his BT21 creation, Cooky, as a puppet for this diabolical game. The same buzzer went off and the timer began to tick seconds away off the clock. Simultaneously, the plank the women were standing on began to move, depriving them from having something solid to stand on, and eventually hanging them when they should lose that last bit of footing.

Whimpering, they called after him to the best of their abilities, and as much as discontentment and disgust oozed out of him, he hastily grabbed each handle on either side of his muscular thighs preventing their planks from retreating. Grunting, he cried out at the sting of his arms being pulled slowly.

Images then appeared on two screens on either side of the glass where the women appeared to Jungkook. To the right was the woman known as headliner_jk,  and images of him slid through the screen on her side, showcasing the footage from when she had recently stalked him. He glanced up at her, teary eyes gazing back at him as he recognized the intimate pictures she had taken of him when he was not aware.

The chains pulled at him, and he screamed in agony as the excruciating pain overwhelmed him. The veins in his arms popped, as he tried to fight the pull. His gaze caught the other screen and images Carrot NUNA took kept appearing, equally as damaging, equally an invasion of privacy.

The timer blinked and the chains kept pulling at his arms. A minute and a half remaining and he couldn’t decide which of the two sasaengs he should help. Were it completely up to him, he would loosen his grip on both handles and watch as they struggled with their feet dangling until they eventually died. But he was, unfortunately, not programmed with such a vindictive personality. BTS loved ARMY’s, even the bad ones, as much as they didn’t want to. But the rotten ones, well, they helped him and his bandmates recognize the good ones; luckily for them, the good outweighed the bad.

The timer kept ticking away, precious seconds disappearing as he grew more and more indecisive. Choose one to save and live, or do nothing and die. It was not an easy decision, tears ran down his cheeks at having to play this role of God. He never wanted to be responsible for someone else’s pain, had spent years being responsible for their happiness, but he was given no choice. Do nothing and lose his life, lose the ability to make others smile... or make a tough decision and live with it for the rest of his life.

Both women cried out after him as their feet barely scraped the remaining wood beneath their feet. His strength was giving out and the deafening pain of his arms made it impossible for him to think straight.

Choose one. Which one?

Both images appearing on the screens were equally damning. They had managed to find and capture private moments of him. His gaze caught a glimpse as a frame slid into view that headliner_jk captured of him: Jungkook, golden maknae of BTS sat in his computer chair, masturbating to webcam girls.

A sense of shame and embarrassment overcame him. The images that were being displayed were all private and he wondered how they had even gained access. It was less of the act he was doing than the violation of his privacy that was upsetting. He was a young man in his prime; this was nothing out of the norm for other men his age.

His eyes then fell on Carrot NUNA’s screen as a picture of him getting a blowjob from a black, female escort appeared. He remembered this vividly, several months ago he had decided to give in to his fantasy and experience the pleasure he watched on his computer screen.

Why she hadn’t used this against him was baffling; she had plenty of time to have sold those images to the highest bidder. His eyes fell immediately onto hers and she pleaded with him not to choose her.

As the pain became overbearing, his hands grew weaker and the strength to hold onto both handles became too much. The mixture of the women’s sobbing cries and the deafening tick of the timer reaching its end made him scream as he made the decision and pulled back one of his hands.

All sound ceased and the only thing that filled the room was the cries of one of the women and his grunts as he held tightly onto Carrot NUNA’s handle. The strangled gasps and choking whines from Headliner pulled his gaze up to the woman as her legs bucked out, struggling to find footing that was no longer there and air that was nowhere to be found. It didn’t take long, before she finally gave in to inevitable strangulation of the noose.

A long moment passed after the chains around his ankles and wrists loosened. Carrot NUNA jumped down as her confinements loosened as well, maneuvering her way into the room with Jungkook. She ran into his arms, gratitude pouring from her mouth at being saved, promising to destroy all the footage she had, but he quickly shoved the woman away from him. His eyes glared, honed in on the woman he chose not to save, her body gently swaying in the air.

A door behind him opened, and a large neon sign showcasing the word EXIT lit up above it and he swiftly made his way through it with his surviving sasaeng. But the door they went through didn’t provide any clues to where he was; it was pitch black on the other side. Obstacles and locked doors made Jungkook feel as if they were mice caught in an impossible maze as he attempted to guide himself and the crying woman behind him away from where they had started.

Would he ever escape this nightmare?

[hisunshiine]

— armypedia 🧩  yoongi

Chapter 2: Yoongi: Blind Trust

⟢ pairing: none

⟢ credit: co-written with @heathfritillary​​ ♡

⟢ genre: horror au | thriller au | angst | minor smut | thriller/spooky |

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ story warnings: Horror, Psychological Horror, Violence, Kidnapping, Torture, Pain, Delusional Thinking, Explicit Language, Minor Character Death, Weapons, Fire, Blood, Additional Warnings Identified This Chapter: mentions of anxiety, vision issues, open wounds

⟢ wc: 2,313

⟢ summary: Wanna play a game? 🧩 The members of BTS find themselves awakening, one by one, seemingly abducted and with no clue as to what is going on. Soon, they'll have to piece together puzzles designed specifically for the KPOP group as they are forced to participate in a sick game of life and death, conducted by someone who has a point to prove. This eight chaptered horror fanfic takes inspiration from the movie franchise, Saw.

⟢ author’s note: thanks for reading for spooky season. please remember this is a work of fiction. we love all of the members equally and very much. this is only for spooky season. please respect their privacy irl.

                     | armypedia masterlist | hisunshiine masterlist | 

Head pounding, it’s hard for Yoongi to lift his chin off of his chest and open his eyes. His neck aches, and his shoulder smarts from the old injury. The muscles must have sat at an odd angle for some time for the injury to flare up. After several seconds, Yoongi is finally able to clear some of the swimming feeling in his brain and take note of his circumstance. A heavy weight is pressed against his lower abdomen, and it’s dark except for the dim glare of a glowing set of keys in front of him. Feeling for the source of the weight, his fingers trace the cool metal of interlocking oval cable chains. 

Yoongi tries to stand, but the chain is too tight; he is unable to move from the chair. His heart begins to race, he doesn’t like feeling confined to this chair, doesn’t like the darkness, and can’t stand the unknown of what is going on. His hands begin to move frantically, searching for the end of the chain, his body leaning over to the side attempting to trace its origin, but it’s no use. His breathing is loud, practically the only thing he can hear other than the sound of the blood racing through his arteries and veins, and it takes everything within him to not yell out in panic, despite the feeling of impending doom in his chest. 

The air in the room feels stale, with Yoongi’s body temperature rising due to his anxiety. He knows he must be turning red, and tries to remember what his therapist taught him. Breathe in deeply for 7, hold for 4, breathe out for 7. Yoongi tries to count in his head, following the technique, and when he places his hands on the desk, he hits the keyboard, which awakens the computer monitor on the desk in front of him.

The glare helps him see, giving awareness to the fact that he is in a rundown concrete walled room. He’s about to grab the mouse, when a rustling sound causes him to freeze. Yoongi’s heart begins to pound. He’s not alone.

“Min Yoongi.” A distorted voice comes from the computer speakers, and the screen that was once blank white now showcases a brown circle with eyes. His BT21 character, Shooky, is on the screen, it’s face contorted into a menacing look. Yoongi’s attention locks onto the screen.

“You once were devoted to the fans, who helped make you who you are. But now, you are self-centered, only caring about what ARMY can do for you, and not what you can do for ARMY.” 

Yoongi doesn’t understand. He has always been about his fans, especially ARMY who support not only BTS but his solo ventures as AgustD and a producer. He tugs at the chain around his waist, trying desperately to get free. 

“On the computer is a deconstructed song of yours. You have so many, but I’m sure you should be able to figure it out. Put this song back together and click submit before time runs out, Min Yoongi, or you’ll never be able to create songs again. The chain will pull you back into position and the jar of screws and nails will detonate in your face. Good luck being able to see after that. Remember Min Yoongi, see what is important, or lose your ability to see what is truly most precious to you.” A timer appears on a screen on the wall above the computer that had previously been overlooked by Yoongi. 

Simultaneously, the computer monitor goes black before opening back up to a screen that looks similar to the program he uses for producing tracks, except that at the bottom right there is now a red button that says SUBMIT. Yoongi can see all the components needed to create a track off to the side, but deconstructed as the Shooky had said. Each sound of the snare or bass is its own sound again, and for a 3 minute or so song, it would take some time to properly place each instrument sound correctly. It appears that some sounds were added to throw him off as well. Yoongi tugs at his hair, unsure of where to start. 

“Ah..” 

A soft cry sounds from behind Yoongi, who tenses up. He had thought the rustling sound he heard earlier was just a fluke, and once Shooky had delivered it’s message, he had forgotten about it, forgotten to even assess the room now that more light was filtering in from the monitor.  Yoongi turns in the chair quickly. 

“H—Hello? I can hear you! Who are you?!” A shaky voice, scared though trying hard to not show it fills the quiet of the room. Yoongi can make out a blindfolded woman standing about  20 feet from him. Where she is standing is surrounded by broken shards of glass; they litter the concrete floor which she is standing barefoot upon. He rolls a little closer to her, but not much due to the heavy chain around his waist. 

“Answer me! W-Who’s there?”

“My name is Min Yoongi..”

“Stop fucking with me!” The woman takes a step forward, but lets out a painful squeal as the soft flesh of her foot makes contact with a shard of glass. It pierces her foot, enough so that Yoongi can see the blood drip from her foot and coat several pieces.

“I’m not.. Please be careful, there’s glass all around you.”

“Please let me go, please… I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Her voice is panicked, high pitched as she begs Yoongi to free her. “I don’t know what I did to make you mad, I swear, I thought I was going to a BTS event, please I promise I won’t say anything.”

Her bound hands try to go to her eyes but the rope wraps around her waist, not allowing her hands to reach her face.  Despite the blindfold, Yoongi can tell she is crying by the way her shoulders shake and the muffled cries she tries to stifle.

“Hey, hey, listen to my voice. It’s me, Min Yoongi.”

The crying quiets down enough, so Yoongi speaks again. This time the woman appears to recognize his voice.

“Yoongi? Why would you—Why are you holding me here?”

“I’m not, listen, we don’t have much time. I have to get us out of here, but I need to recreate a song in order to do so. Fuck, there’s not much time.”

Yoongi turns back to the computer, swiping at the sweat forming along his hairline. The temperature seems to have gotten hotter, as if the AC is off, and it’s only adding to his inability to focus. He begins clicking on sounds, trying to find something to help him recognize what the song is that he is recreating. He plays several random snare sounds, some high pitched piano notes, and cymbals. 

“That sounds like, um… I think those sounds are from your mixtape, Yoongi.” 

Yoongi had been so immersed in trying to recognize the sounds he almost didn’t hear the soft voice of the blindfolded woman. 

“You recognize this?”

“I told you, I thought I was going to a BTS event… I’m a fan. ARMY. I’m actually Suga biased.” It was weird how calm she was able to share this information, what with her foot bleeding and being kidnapped. But something about Yoongi being with her calmed her nerves, even if only slightly given the circumstances.

“I think, if you find the vocal track, that might help you navigate recreating the track. I think it’s Strange.”

Yoongi turns away from the computer, giving his full attention to the woman.

“What’s strange?”

“The song. Featuring RM. I think those sounds belong to Strange from D2.”

Yoongi feels dumb momentarily, but then realizes something.

“Hey, what’s your name?” 

“Um, it’s Moon Jisoo.”

“Jisoo, I’m going to lead you through the glass okay? I think you’re right.”

“Okay.”

“Just trust me, okay. I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you Yoongi.”

Carefully, almost painstakingly, Yoongi leads Jisoo through a maze of broken glass, guiding her feet cautiously to the spots that are free from glass. It took no more than 5 minutes, but glancing at the clock, Yoongi knows he’s used up almost half of the time, which is precious to putting together a song, let alone one that he knows has so many different components to the beat.

“Yoongi? I’m getting really hot.” Jisoo fans at herself as best as she can with bound hands, and Yoongi nods before remembering that she can’t see him.

“Me too. Shit.” Yoongi pulls his shirt over his head, it’s almost overbearing now how hot it is growing in the room. 

Turning back to Jisoo, she follows the last of his directives and is clear of the glass. She falls to her knees once Yoongi tells her she is free from it, and he beckons her to his voice.

“Let me remove the binding and blindfold.”

She kneels in front of him, and he can’t help but feel like in different circumstances, he would enjoy this a lot more. Searching the desk, he finds kid safe scissors in a pen holder. They take a few tries, but he’s able to free her hands from the binding. A sigh of relief falls from her lips, and Yoongi is gentle as his hands move to her face, careful with disrobing the blindfold.

“How’s that?” He asks, voice gentle as he grips her chin to face him. 

“No difference, Yoongi. I—I’m blind.”

His brows furrow, and her eyes stare at him, but more like she’s staring through him.

“Now solve this thing so we can get out of here. I’ll help you in any way I can.” Jisoo stands, and feels around like she is looking for a chair or table.

Yoongi nods, remembering the ticking time bomb that is literally awaiting him should he fail and takes Jisoo’s wrist in his hand.

“There’s no other place to sit other than my lap, don’t worry, if we don’t solve it, when there’s 30 seconds left you can hide behind my chair.”

“What? No!”

“Yes, Jisoo, but let’s figure this out so neither of us has to worry.”

Pulling her gently, she sits on his lap, and he reaches around her to utilize the mouse. Yoongi zones into the music, following Jisoo’s advice to find the vocal track first, and she was right, it was Strange. That helps Yoongi more than she could know, as he is able to rebuild the track around this piece. It’s meticulous, making sure that it sounds identical to the real version on his mixtape, but Jisoo offers help. 

“I love this song, Yoongi, I would know it anywhere. Don’t forget, since I’m blind, my ears are exceptional.”

He grunts an affirmation of reply, dragging sound bits to their spot in the program. She shifts on his lap, uncomfortable from the heat.

“Fuck, it’s still missing something.” Yoongi tugs at his hair, closing his eyes as he breathes in the humid air. It’s only gotten hotter, sweat dripping uncomfortably down his chest. Jisoo sitting on his lap adds to the discomfort, but with her hurt foot, he refuses to ask her to stand. She’s a victim in all of this too, and has been a great help to him.

“Play it all the way through, let me hear it.” Jisoo asks quietly, and Yoongi obliges, reminding her that they are now down to 9 minutes. 

“I can play it maybe two more times, Jisoo...”

“Shhh!” Jisoo shushes Yoongi, paying attention to the track playing.

“There! Right after RM says ‘oh baby what’s your name’, the beat picks back up in the original. You never have the beat drop off!”

Yoongi clicks the mouse several times, Jisoo can hear him frantically clicking and dragging the mouse across the desk. 

“Okay, one last run through, Jisoo, get behind my chair. And take this, cover your face with it.”

Jisoo feels soft cotton being pushed into her hands as Yoongi scoots the chair back so she can stand.

“No, Yoongi, use it to protect yourself instead.”

“Jisoo, I’m not letting you get hurt anymore than you already have. You helped me an insane amount and I think we did it. I’d feel better if you had it. Please.”

Jisoo wants to argue back, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the track playing. Using her hands to guide her, she moves behind Yoongi’s chair, clutching his shirt in her hands as she kneels down, listening. She hears a strange sound of metal on metal and feels the chair move closer to the desk as she 

“Yoongi!” He can feel her stand to speak over the music in his ear. “It’s missing the cymbals right at the end! When you stop rapping!”

“Oh, shit… fuck fuck fuck.”

Jisoo knows the time must be almost up by now; the song is over 3 minutes long and he’s played it twice now, making minor adjustments.

“Kneel back down, I’m submitting it, there’s seconds left, fuck. Fuck.”

Jisoo hears Yoongi take a shuddering breath in before the click of the mouse. 

Bracing themselves, both tense up as they wait for the explosion. A loud grinding of metal sounds causing them both to flinch as Jisoo cries out.

“Congratulations Min Yoongi. What is most precious to you is not your music, but ARMY.”

The distorted voice is gone as fast as it came, and Yoongi feels the pull of the heavy chain release and he is able to stand up. A loud unlocking sound of the door startles him into movement, and as the chains fall uselessly to the wayside, he takes Jisoo’s hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Yoongi leads Jisoo towards the door, as she clings to his bare and sweating torso, hopefully out into safety.

[hisunshiine]

— armypedia 🧩  seokjin

Chapter 3: Seokjin: True Image

⟢ pairing: none

⟢ credit: co-written with @heathfritillary​​ ♡

⟢ genre: horror au | thriller au | angst | minor smut | thriller/spooky |

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ story warnings: Horror, Psychological Horror, Violence, Kidnapping, Torture, Pain, Delusional Thinking, Explicit Language, Minor Character Death, Weapons, Fire, Blood, Additional Warnings Identified This Chapter: fear, weapons

⟢ wc: 2,473

⟢ summary: Wanna play a game? 🧩 The members of BTS find themselves awakening, one by one, seemingly abducted and with no clue as to what is going on. Soon, they'll have to piece together puzzles designed specifically for the KPOP group as they are forced to participate in a sick game of life and death, conducted by someone who has a point to prove. This eight chaptered horror fanfic takes inspiration from the movie franchise, Saw.

⟢ author’s note: thanks for reading for spooky season. please remember this is a work of fiction. we love all of the members equally and very much. this is only for spooky season. please respect their privacy irl.

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The sound of a loud buzzer went off. Once, twice, and a couple more times. Groggily, as if he had been sedated, he lifted his heavy head. The buzzer kept piercing his ears, the prominent sound growing louder by the second. After a few blinks, he tiredly attempted to make sense of his surroundings.

It was dark. A little too dark.

Squinting his gaze, his eyes slowly adjusted. The ferocious sound of the buzzer made it unbearable for him to form any thoughts, so he instinctively stood only to get shoved back onto the wooden chair.

“What the hell,” he breathed when his gaze lowered.

Jolting fiercely at his wrists, he sensed the leather of what felt like a belt keeping him prisoner on the seat. Beat after beat, continuously increasing its frequency, his heart pounded harder as he attempted to break free from the confinements. Grunting, he began to wiggle his feet harshly as they, too, were bound but to the legs of the chair.

“What is this?” he shouted as he kept yanking at his wrists.

For a man who exercised regularly, he figured that he would be able to break free but alas – after many poor attempts – his strength gave out. Leaning into the chair, he stared out in total darkness.

“Hello,” he hollered, “Is anyone there?”

Squinting his eyes once more, he tried to trail the room to make out the layout but there was nothing; pitch black and still with the damn buzzer going off. Suddenly, a flickering lamp above him lit up and his gaze immediately flung up. With a small exhale evading his plump lips, he cautiously began to take in the surroundings.  

It was abandoned, a warehouse.

He could make out some graffiti drawings plastered on the grayish toned brick walls. Numbers and words. Some in English, a language he could recognize, as well as his native tongue. There were no windows or doors. Just him, the small table in front, as well as a small old school television. He was unsuccessful, however, in getting a glimpse of what was behind him.

“Guys, come on,” he shouted as rage replaced his initial instinct of panic, “This isn’t funny anymore,” sweat drops slowly emerging as he sensed the room was incredibly hot.

The flicking lamp above came to a halt and he stiffened. A slight fear rushed over him as it had gotten dark again, but he quickly brushed it aside and continuously shouted after his bandmates.

He was sure they were pulling a practical joke on him but enough was enough. The bickering and teasing had gone on for far too long and he was beginning to feel infuriated by his bandmates’ – especially the youngest – constant disrespectful behavior. Yelling after them, he ferociously kept yanking at the confinements when suddenly, the exhaustingly loud buzzer finally ceased. Simultaneously, the lights above the ceiling turned on, one at a time. These were bigger, brighter, and momentarily made him whimper at the sharpness as his eyes adjusted. Just then did he notice a woman sitting opposite him.      

“Hey,” he said softly, “Wake up.”

Her head was lowered. Skin complexion pale, dark,long hair hanging loosely, covering her face. He frowned as he observed the seemingly knocked out woman. His gaze then fell onto her white t-shirt. Recognizing the logo as a merchandise from his 2019 ‘Speak Yourself’-tour, he bewilderingly gazed intensely at the darkened red stains that covered her chest.

“Hey,” he repeated as he jumped in the seat, pushing the chair closer to the table but was suddenly stopped by two jolts on each side of the chair, making it impossible for him to move it further or shift it to the sides.

His heart raced once again as the unresponsive woman alerted him that this was far from a practical joke. Then a loud zap jolted the woman, and she began to scream fiercely. Wide eyed and taken aback, he stared at her frozen in position as she exclaimed before breaking into tears.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he voiced in order to calm the woman.

“What is this?” she began to pull at the same confinements that kept him bound.

“I don’t know, I just woke up here—”                

“You sick fuck!” she exclaimed. “What the hell is this? Why are you keeping—” she paused when her eyes fell onto his. “W-What are doing here?” she stuttered, mascara running down her cheeks, “W-what is going on?”

A sudden mechanical sound made him and the distraught woman direct their eyes at the center of the table. Then a dark object appeared, and he immediately caught his breath upon recognizing it.

It was a gun.

Slowly, it began to move. Circling around between them a few times when it halted in front of him. His eyes locked in on the barrel when the sound of the gun cocking rushed all blood out of him. Panicked, he began to breathe shallower as the gun slowly began to slide backwards.

“What the fuc—” he stared at the gun’s barrel.

“What is this?”                

His eyes were glued to the gun aiming directly at him, “What,” he breathed as he kept yanking at the confinements.

The sear then engaged the hammer and began to place bullets inside. The gun loaded itself. Frozen, they both stared terrifyingly at the gun as it began to move again. Once halting in front of the woman, sending her to a panic frenzy and then back onto him.

This time loaded and cocked.

Gulping, he kept his gaze firmly on the barrel. Fist tightened as dread overcame him, he watched the hammer get pulled back. Unable to move or help himself, he was forced to sit and take a bullet to his chest. The woman screamed, urging whoever was doing this to stop, going as far as stating his credentials and how important he was to many around the world. Begging desperately as he pulled at the unforgiving confinements, he exclaimed at whoever not to take his life. A small click sound then emerged from the gun and defeatedly, he lowered his head as a sigh of relief escaped him. Whimpering, he eyed the gun and then the woman, who started to shed tears again.

“Kim Seokjin,” a muffled voice said and the television behind the woman turned on, “I would like to play a little game, I call it the ‘ honesty ’ game.”

His eyes widened at the sight of his own creation, RJ, being used as a prompt. The woman hastily glanced around to get a glimpse of where the sound was coming from but much like himself, she was unable to gaze backwards.    

“The gun you see in front of you is, in fact, a real gun. As of right now, there are no bullets in it. Once spun and a target is found, the gun will load a single bullet, and depending on your answers, Mr. Kim, the gun will go off,” the eerie distorted voice of RJ explained, “Think Russian Roulette.”

The gun kept circling, demonstrating what the puppet was revealing. The woman kept cursing at the voice causing his heart to beat faster as he realized that this sick game was intended for him. The dirty alpaca with his signature scarf looked meaner and rougher than he’d experienced. Usually he took care of RJ as did ARMY’s but the one operating the one appearing on the television, did not seem to care about the merchandise. Someone went out of their way to get him here. With no clue as to why, he gripped the arms of the chair, feeling utterly helpless.

“I urge you to think of the answer before submitting it, Kim Seokjin. For every insincere one, you’ll activate the gun and for every unanswered question she will be zapped with a high voltage,” his gaze immediately fell onto the sobbing woman, “The human body is extraordinary in its ability to withstand such damaging shocks but I doubt her tiny frame can handle 600 volts,” the RJ puppet moved slightly closer to the frame, “Take a good look at the person sitting opposite you, Kim Seokjin,” her eyes met his, although teary, he knew that she could recognize him, “This is a Japanese army who runs your fan-site. She has devoted her whole life to you; everywhere you go, she will be. She claims she loves you and you claim you love ARMY, Seokjin.”

“What is this,” the woman yelled out, still unable to find the location of the distorted voice, “Why are you doing this?”

“Seokjin, repeatedly, you’ve expressed a need to be dishonest to your fans, hiding behind excuses for not wishing them to worry but are you willing to bare yourself to the most devoted Jin stan in ARMY? The choice is yours.”

The screen went staticy, flickering a few times before it completely shut off. Then the gun began to circle. The woman sobbed fiercely when it pointed at her.

“Why is this happening?” she exclaimed chokingly.

“Give me the questions,” Seokjin hastily shouted as he ferociously kept shifting in his seat, “What are damn the questions?”

“What are you talking about? How the hell am I supposed to know—” he jumped back in his seat when the woman was interrupted by a dose of electricity.

Crying in agony, she lowered her head as drool slowly ran out of her mouth. She was conscious and he could only assume that the voltage wasn’t as high as RJ claimed it was.

“I don’t want to be here,” she incoherently breathed.

“I think that was a warning,” he frantically glanced around, “Is there anything behind me? I can’t see,” his eyes fell back on the pale woman, “Hey, no, please,” he attempted to slide the chair closer to the table, “Stay with me,” he urged, “Stay awake.”

She was struggling to keep her head up, eyelids open and it seemed as if foam was emanating her mouth. Whimpering, he stared intensely at the woman who was described as his number one fan. This was not how he expected to meet ARMYs. He never wanted this.

“Are you really ARMY?”

“Yes,” she voiced so low that he leaned closer, her voice small as if all energy was drained from her, “I love Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

“You need to stay focused if we want to get out of here. Please, stay with me; lift your head,” the gun began to circle. “Look, it’s starting again,” he tightened his fists, “Please,” he yelled when the gun halted in front of him, “Look around and find the questions.”

Tiredly, she slowly did as her favorite idol requested. Heavy eyelids scanning the surroundings as the sound of the hammer of the gun getting pulled back snapped her back into reality.

“I d-don’t,” she paused as she kept glancing at the walls in search of the questions. “There’s nothing, I can’t see anything.”

“Please, hurry,” his eyes remained glued on the barrel of the gun, unable to tell if the next shot would be a loaded one.

Then far behind him, the woman discovered a television neatly placed on the wall in a top corner and she moved closer to make sense of the bouncing letters. The flickering screen made the words jump and she tried desperately to understand the question.

“I see it.”

“What? Hurry, ask me, please.”

Squinting her gaze, she asked, “Kim Seokjin, do you enjoy lying to ARMYs?”

He halted at the question, never taking his terrified eyes from the gun, “N-no,” he paused momentarily, assuring he wasn’t being insincere with his response, “No, I do not enjoy it.”

The gun began to move again, circling between them for a long moment until it randomly stopped in front of the woman. Sobbing, she grew hysterical, shifting violently in attempts to distance herself from the gun’s line of shot.

“You need to calm down and ask me the question,” he spat, “Tell me, it’s cocking itself.”

Through teary eyes, she hulked as she read, “Kim Seokjin, are you embarrassed to tell ARMYs how you feel?”

“No, of course not,” he exclaimed, “I’m not embarrassed.”

The hammer pulled back and the gun ticked, once, twice before the trigger was pulled. Click. It wasn’t loaded. Angrily, she cursed at him for answering the question with such disregard of her safety and his blatant carelessness.

The gun started again, spinning around itself a few times as the two kept shouting at each other, not paying attention to the threatening object that decided their fates. The numbly and utterly terrifying sound of the gun loading a bullet made them cease their argument as they both gazed at whom it was pointing at.

“The question is,” she eyed the gun and then him, “When you are Jin of BTS, are you playing a role?”

Clenching his jaw, he eyed her as he simply nodded, “Everyday. ARMYs have no idea who the real BTS is. They have an idea but they don’t know.”

The gun left her and began to spin again. This time landing on him. A new question appeared and the woman frantically began to shake her head.

“I don’t care, I can’t believe this question,” she said before hollering after whoever was doing this to them, “I refuse to ask it. This is private,” tears fell down her cheeks, “I don’t want to know this.”

“Hurry up, just ask.”

“Do you feel inferior compared to your other bandmates?”

He froze at the question. Taken completely aback, it pierced his heart as this thought was something he had a hard time shaking off during his trainee and early debut years. The absolute scrutiny and embarrassment he went through as the sole member who didn’t have any experience forever marked his pride. Unlike his bandmates, his passion wasn’t music, but it had evolved as he did. Today, he couldn’t comprehend a life outside of BTS and music. Frowning, he contemplated how he was going to answer.

It seemed as if a simple YES or NO answer was all that the monster who had kidnapped them needed. But this required a far more complicated answer, one he did not have time to process let alone formulate an answer to its complexity. Defeatedly, he simply sighed and answered yes. The loud buzzer went off once more and as it did, the gun descended away from the two of them, sliding through an opening in the middle of the table.

“What’s happening?” the woman yelled, but the loud buzzer drowned out her voice.

The screen behind her lit up once more with a simple message staring at him; ‘Thanks for playing’. The sound of the buzzer came to a halt and as it did, a door opened to their left before the confinements that held them in place loosened.