#bts october

[fightingjhooope]

Ana oop

[failaise]

I Need Help- jung hoseok

Summary:  “I always wondered why the boy down the street never aged.”

Genre: Romance/Angst/Mentions of Sex/AU

Group Member: Jung Hoseok of BTS

Warning!: Includes murder and mentions of mental sickness. In no way does this story represent the real-life Hobi, who we all know is a ball of sunshine. He’s purely like this for the sake of the fiction and for Halloween. 

6/31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN // ikontrashimagines

You always liked the little park down on 5th street. 

It was hectic yet calming and with each visit, you found yourself enjoying it more and more, losing yourself in the sounds of childish laughter. Maybe that’s why you enjoyed it so much- you liked the witness the very thing which had been stolen from you. Each visit, you’d sit and do your homework, smiling at playground banter, scribbling in that notebook of yours. And with each visit, you found that someone else was doing the same. Across the playground, from your seat on the bench, would be that mysterious stranger who sat and watched, too. He was there every day and, while you didn’t know his name, you knew he lived close. Every day after work, you’d come home to find he’d just arrived as well, and every day the two of you would lock eyes and he’d wink at you, a teasing smirk on his face, before he disappeared into his home. 

Jung Hoseok, you soon learned his name was. Your neighbors had said that he moved there couple years ago, had no family, no girlfriend as far as anyone knew. You knew better. He was rambunctious and drove a motorcycle and drank, which were factors you knew well. He liked to rev his engine by your home and whenever you came out, he would be sitting by your driveway, his bike lit up red by engine lights, shadows fallen across his face, though he wore that smirk each and every time. 

You had lived in that particular neighborhood since you were seven. You knew everyone, and everyone knew you. Most your neighbors were your high school friends- well, all except Jung Hoseok. You remembered seeing his face around as a little child on the playground, his eyes glued to you as you swung from the monkey bars. You remembered when that fateful day, October 13th, when you didn’t show up to the playground for weeks because of the accident. 

He didn’t age, you found that out quickly. You wanted to know why.

Which, of course, became your mission to learn. 

It was an autumn day, the sun hidden by storm clouds and thunder crackling every now and then, when you finally mustered the courage to go sit by him. He didn’t look up when you walked towards him, didn’t even acknowledge your presence when you fell into the seat beside him. Yet, you could see that tiny smirk threatening to pull at his lips. Jung Hoseok was handsome in a way you had never seen before- smooth, copper skin, always seeming to glow no matter if the sun shined or not. His dark eyes looked almost silver in the whitish glow of the oncoming rain, pink lips tugged to one side. His sharp jawline angled itself, high cheekbones casting shadows down his face. Everything about him was handsome, even the way he sat. 

“I was wondering when you’d come,” Hoseok sighed. His eyes searched the playground, which was becoming less and less occupied as worried parents hurried their children home. You glanced up at the sky- silver, covered by angry-looking clouds. The sun had long since disappeared. 

“Why don’t they remember you?” You inquired, your bottom lip tied beneath your teeth. 

Hoseok’s smirk widened. “Why do you?” 

You pursed your lips and glanced away, “I don’t know. You tell me.” 

Hoseok’s eyes never left the playground, but his taunting words haunted you nonetheless. You knew the color of his eyes to be black, but you had never been this close to them, had never smelt the scent of cedar which radiated from his very seat. 

You folded your arms and sighed, leaned back against the bench, “Am I just imagining you?” 

Finally, his eyes slid over to where you sat, glittering with amusement. “Imagining me?” He repeated. Your breath caught in your throat and you froze, unable to look away from his hold. “You mean, like your mother used to?”

At the mention of your mother, you looked away, biting down on your tongue. That was a low blow, even for someone like him. At your side, Hoseok began to chuckle, his deep voice rumbling from somewhere low in his chest. “Don’t worry, _____ _____, you won’t turn crazy like mummy did.” 

You ground your teeth, your bitter stare aimed down at the mulch and sand. “You were there that day,” your voice shook, but you weren’t scared- no, you were just the opposite. Hoseok raised an eyebrow and looked back at the now-empty jungle gym. The more you spoke, the wider his smirk got, teeth like razor blades finally revealing themselves. “When my mom...” 

“When she offed your father?” Hoseok supplied innocently. You chewed on the inside of your cheek and glared up at the sky, digging your nails into the sleeve of your hoodie. “Yes, I was,” Hoseok shrugged, adjusting in his seat. “That type of stuff... it keeps me going.”

Your features screwed up in disgust, “You make me sick.”

“I hope so,” he jeered. 

You glanced away, biting down on your lip. Hoseok wasn’t human, you knew that much was certain- he was too... odd, too poised to be human. He held himself as if he had studied the way he should, spoke in riddles that seemed to mimic human speech, though it was wrong. Everything about him was too otherworldly, too human to be human. 

“Then what are you?” You pushed yourself off the bench and to your feet, spinning around to stare him down. His eyes shifted to yours. A spark of electricity jolted between the two of you and you winced, looking down at your wrist to see that something had been carved there- four letters, one word. 

“Your mother’s sickness was like food to me,” Hoseok slowly began to rise from his seat on the bench, black eyes glittering like opal. His sudden confession stupefied you. “With each passing hour, the darker her thoughts became, the more corrupt her mind. I felt the sheer... sheer anger that she radiated, the one she finally put to good use on the 13th. I waited for that day- when she was ripe, when her heart was so black not even the tiny little pathetic cries of her little girl could lighten it.” 

His words were spat at you, every syllable enunciated, every letter emphasized. You stared at him with narrowed eyes, teeth clenched together and your fists balled at your sides. Your nails, which you had conveniently forgotten to cut, dug tiny little crescents into your palm. Red began to slide down your knuckles, dripping limply onto the ground. 

“So, what?” You snapped. “You feed on other people’s pain?” 

Hoseok tilted his head, blinking down at you. “I feed on their corruptness,” he whispered. He stepped closer and closer to you, until he was towering over your stature, black eyes surveying your own. His tongue, pink and swollen, darted out to lick his bottom lip. “Why do you think I stick around here?” 

Your eyes grew smaller in confusion. “Wh... what are you saying?” 

He threw his head back and chuckled, shaking it back and forth. He was insane, you thought- absolutely and clinically insane. The way he held himself, the way he snarled under his breath, the way his entire body seemed to tremble, as if it was hard to even stand. “Like mother,” he clicked his tongue. His eyes were different now, staring into yours- where his pupil should have been were two red dots, glowing as if they were somehow behind his eye, peering into yours. “Like daughter.” 

You ground your teeth together, “Fuck you.” 

Hoseok’s face was unbearably close to yours. His breath was hot on your face, his eyelashes brushing your eyebrows. You weren’t going to step down, not going to step back and let someone- no, something- like him win. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips sliding across yours, “I wish you would.” 

Hoseok never left. 

He never moved, never stopped going to the park- but you had. You couldn’t bare the sight of him, of what he represented. You opted to stay in, tucked around your blankets and watching television and thinking. That was the most dangerous part about him, you thought- he made you think. He made you reflect, made you recall memories you had hidden away, made you look at those vertical scars on your arms, made you remember the way the rope had snapped in a failed attempt at death, remembered the way no one had come visit you in the hospital room because you had no one who cared. 

The more you stayed home, yet, the more you saw him. He appeared in the corner of the room right before you fell asleep and because of this you never slept. You stayed awake, days on end, drinking caffeine and energy drinks and doing anything and everything you could to not see him. 

But he appeared anyway. He appeared sitting on the sofa beside you, whispering the things he wished he could do to your body, before he’d vanish. You were lying if you said his words didn’t inflict you, didn’t make you take a cold shower. At one point you had listened to the sound of him moaning beside you, tempting you to give in to his lust. 

You thought, then, that you knew what he was. 

Incubus. 

He had to be. Your constitution, your willpower was too strong to let someone ordinary affect you the way he did. His words made you writhe when they never would have before, haunted you as you slipped into unconsciousness. You were too tired, too angry to let yourself stay awake any longer, and so upon one sitting the Monster Energy Drinks had faded and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The dream was dark, black, but you could hear the sound of him in the corner, feel his lips covering every inch of your body. You didn’t fight- in fact, you let him, parting your legs when he wanted you to, touched him where he wanted. When you awoke, your thighs were sticky and he was sitting on the chair opposite you, his hand disappeared into the front of his jeans and an enticing, sinister smirk on his face. 

You thought you were strong, thought you could say no to him. 

But he was right. 

And you were just like your mother.

The corruptness he felt from you wasn’t the one your mother had- no, you didn’t have desire kill, but you had a desire for something else, and it was something that he offered on endless occasions. Maybe you weren’t like your mother, maybe you were different. You were corrupt, but you didn’t murder. 

No, you just obeyed. 

6/31 Days of Halloween // ikontrashimagines

1/31- I Wonder… -kim taehyung

2/31- pt.4 of Black Blood (wolf au) -jeon jungkook

3/31- Circus - park jimin

4/31- 9773 Melas Road - jeon jungkook

5/31- Mirror, Mirror - kim namjoon

6/31- I Need Help - jung hoseok

[failaise]

Mirror, Mirror- kim namjoon

Summary:  “I always thought Bloody Mary was a dumb game. No one ever showed up.”

Genre: Horror/Romance/Angst/AU/Mentions of Sex

Group Member: Kim Namjoon of BTS

5/31 Days of Halloween // ikontrashimagines

“What, are we in middle school, or something?” 

“Just do it! It’ll be fun!” 

“Look, Sun, I’ve done it before and nothing ever happens. It’s just a game.” 

“Well, if it’s just a game, then why don’t you just do it?” 

The bickering of the two voices made your head spin. One, your friend Sun’s, who’d been trying to convince the entire group of girls at your home (all three of them) to disappear into the bathroom of your home. She had it in her that the house you lived in, purchased by your father and mother, was supposedly haunted, simply because its exterior and interior were composed of Victorian-era decor and fixtures. She liked to tell people you lived in a castle, which you seemed to have to deny on a day-to-day basis. On occasion, you thought the two of them, Sun and Mina, only ever came over because of your home, and not for your company. It didn’t bother you, since they weren’t over often. You yourself tended to stay away from the ice palace, as you called it. 

“Jesus Christ, Sun,” you finally heaved, pushing yourself off the couch of one of the resting rooms. It itself was designed to look as if some sort of Queen was meant to be lounging, yet instead only three idiotic high school students occupied the area. You must’ve looked out of place, in an over-sized hoodie and leggings, but you tended to dress as if you didn’t live in such a cold, large home. Your swear, the one you made when you were six and staring up into a mirror, was broken with your next words, “If I do this will you shut up?” 

Sun beamed from her spot of the crimson sofa, “Yes!” 

“God, you’re annoying,” you huffed, bare feet slapping the marble flooring as you stomped towards the nearest restroom. Behind you, you could hear Sun and Mina giggling happily and you turned to give them the nastiest glare you could muster. “Would you two shut up? You’re gonna wake the dead.” 

Mina tilted her head, eyes glittering and lips screwed up in a smirk, “That’s the point, genius.” 

With an exasperated sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose and pursed your lips. Luckily for them, the nearest restroom was just around the corner, and so the journey to your imminent nothingness came quicker than they had wanted it to. “Now, would the two of you shut up?” You narrowed your eyes at the two girls, leaning up against the side of the doorframe so that they could hear everything you whispered. 

As the door swung shut, you could hear Sun call through the wood, “Remember, you have to say it in Latin! Or it won’t work!” 

“Do you think this is a fucking movie?” You shouted back at them, but the words were muffled. They laughed nevertheless and you shook your head, surveying the restroom which you had never been in before. You spent most your time outside of the home, and because of that you found yourself finding new staircases and new rooms and, well, new restrooms. Everything in this one seemed to be made of marble, as well as the glistening toilet seat and shower, spectacularly chilling and unfamiliar. 

You placed your sleeve-covered hands on the counter, the tips of your fingers cold from the touch. The mirror before you was tall, oval, and large, reflecting the state of yourself back at it- slight bags under your eyes poorly hidden by concealer, hair pulled back from your face, lips chapped and bitten. With a sigh, you dropped your head, disbelieving of your situation. Somehow, those two idiots outside had gotten you to play this game- this dumb, stupid game that you swore you wouldn’t mess with once again. 

“Speculum,” you closed your eyes and finally lifted your head, blindly looking towards your reflection, “speculo.” 

There was silence. Your stomach churned. You couldn’t hear Sun or Mina laughing outside the door, and everything suddenly seemed far away. The cold from your fingertips had traveled up your forearm and disappeared down your back, up your chilled cheeks. You swallowed and forced yourself to repeat the mantra once more, allowing your eyes to open. Something from the mirror had made your chest tighten, as if there were a string around your bones pulling your towards it. You gripped the counter until your knuckles had turned white. 

“Speculum,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “speculo.” 

The area hummed all around you, vibrations that sunk through your skin and rumbled your bones. In the mirror, you could see your pupils shaking, your whole body trembling with trepidation. Your mouth was dry as you watched the figure before you arrange itself, a collection of shadows which arrived with the sound of something like beating wings. Your eyes grew wide and your skin paled, licking your lips in an attempt to wet your dry mouth. 

Your reflection changed before you, the color of your skin and the shade of your hoodie melting together, swirling around as if it were paint on a pallete. The air grew colder, icier than before, and you weren’t sure now if you were shaking because of the temperature, or because of the man standing before you was a man you had once known. You knew his name but you had not spoken it since you were young, had not invited him towards you since you were learning how to multiply numbers. He was dangerous and every fibre of your mind told you to run, to tell your friends nothing happened and to have them shut their mouths about this dumb game they enticed you to play once again. 

You weren’t sure what he was. He came and went, used to jump from reflection to reflection, used to sit on your bed and whisper terrible things in your ear, used to appear in the mirror’s at school. You remembered the instant when Kim Junyoo had you pinned to the floor of the girl’s restroom, using her little fists to do damage to your little face. The next day, she went missing, and by the knowing smirk on the man’s face, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. 

And even though you weren’t sure what he was, he illustrated himself as a man- just a man, one you thought was incredibly old as a child, and now one whose age, you were sure, was only a couple of years older than yours. He stood, the upper half of himself reflecting you in the mineral. You knew he wasn’t human because of the obvious, and because of the fact that his beauty was unparalleled to your eyes thus far. 

His skin was a perfect shade of bronze, shining from every angle, as if he had lights glowing onto him at all times of day. His lips, full and pink and tugged into a smirk, dipped those dimples into the sides of his mouth. The curve of his jaw was sharp and and disappeared into the length of his glistening neck, paired with high, shadowed cheekbones that fell darkness over the rest of his face. He had darker hair than before, silky and pushed out of his winged, sneering black eyes. He dressed as if he lived in a time where silk shirts with puffy sleeves and waist garments were acceptable- in fact, he had always dressed as if he had just come from some type of ball. 

Kim Namjoon’s voice whispered from the mirror, echoing from every direction around you, “What took you so long?” 

At one time, he was your protector, you reminded yourself- he wouldn’t hurt you. For some odd reason, he’d been the one who’d taken Kim Junyoo’s life for a school fight, or the one who had hidden her away- the entire town had thought she died, after all. The glitter in Namjoon’s eyes was familiar, your very first friend in this new city after the big move as a three year-old. He’d been the one who held your hand while you stood on wobbling legs, who’d read stories to you at night from the mirror you kept on your bed stand. 

Your stomach twisted. Why had you pushed him away for so long? 

“I...” you wet your bottom lip and looked down, swallowing. 

“You’ve grown beautifully,” his lips twitched into a smile. Long, slender fingers reached out from the mirror to caress your face, but instead they hit the firm surface and he withdrew his hand, bitterly looking down at the sink, then back up at you. You looked away and frowned at the compliment, although your cheeks were burning. His arrival had sent your entire face aflame. “You know, I ought to thank those silly friends of yours. For not them, I would have not the chance to speak with you.” 

Your eyes traveled back to where he stood, staring down at you. 

Namjoon leaned forwards, as close to the mirror as he could get without touching it, without hurting himself. Those lips taunted you as he spoke, forming words that made you tuck your arms into your body, “Why did you leave me, princess?” 

Your opened your mouth to speak but your voice caught in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, staring into the dark color of his eyes. You remembered a time, when you were seven, the boy you had been longing for in school had disappeared, too. You knew then who had taken him and you knew now, gazing up at him, why he had done so. 

“I’ll forgive you,” he smiled softly, tilting his head in a curious way, as if he were finally surveying you, “if you would so grant me a kiss.” 

Your eyes grew wide at the idea and you visibly jumped back from the counter, yet you still gripped it, gulping. “Wh-what?” 

Namjoon leaned back from the mirror and conjured up a grail, resting in his right, decorated hand. He sipped from it and let his head fall backwards, rolling it around until those lustful eyes were gripping yours. “My love,” his voice was honey on gravel, low and seductive and yearning for you, “you left me to play by myself for years while you grew, while you kissed children whose lips are not mine. For years, I witnessed your beauty, unable to touch, unable to be summoned by that beautiful mouth of yours... I beg no more than a kiss.” 

His sudden confession struck you as odd, yet warming, and you recalled the feeling of constantly being watched, of being cold when your first kiss had taken place. Kim Namjoon had been there every step of the way, you realized, watching and brewing in the darkness of his realm. He must’ve seen you, at least once, while you showered, while you changed in the comfort of your bedroom, must’ve been watching you through the mirrors you left uncovered, except for at night. 

There was that thread again, the one tied around your rib, the one pulling you towards the mirror. Before you could register what your body was doing, your hands were on the sink, your head tilting forwards. Namjoon’s face was ever so close, a picture of beauty whose glistening lips ached for your touch. Though, the mirror wasn’t cold when your mouth finally settled on it- it was warm, moist, pressed up against yours. Something inside you stirred at this one, simple kiss, whose complexity grew when you felt something wet slide into your mouth, venturing around the cavern it had been dying for. You allowed him, gasped when he sucked on your tongue. Between your legs you ached and you pressed your thighs together, hiding your moan between his lips. 

“Princess,” Namjoon gasped. You could feel his hot breath through the mirror. “By God, princess, you taste so...” his words were lost when his mouth found yours again, yet you stopped this time, unable to control the lust pooling in your lower torso. Namjoon stared at you hungrily, his lips red. “Exquisite.” 

“My friends are probably wondering about me,” you whispered, searching those eyes, the ones that had darkened considerably. 

“I just found you,” Namjoon frowned, reaching out for you again but withdrawing his hand before it could touch the surface of the mirror. 

You glanced to the door and gulped, “I’ll find you again.” 

You hurried to unlock the door, glancing over your shoulder in time to see the image of Namjoon’s back before he disappeared, replaced with the towels and ornaments that hung opposite it. Your skin was cold again but your mouth was warm where he had touched it. The door handle fumbled beneath your shaking touch and when it pulled back, you found Sun and Mina annoyed and on their phones. 

“Did you really take a shit in there?” Mina rolled her eyes and looked up. 

You blinked. You realized suddenly that they hadn’t heard anything from within those walls, that they hadn’t heard your stifled moans against Namjoon’s lips or the smooth baritone of his rumbling voice. Relief flooded you and you leaned back against the wall. “Yeah,” you covered quickly, “I told you that game was dumb. Did you two idiots really wait out here?” 

Sun pushed yourself to her feet and folded her arms, “Maybe.” 

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so stupid.” 

Over the course of the next few weeks, you caught yourself stopping by each mirror, smiling when his face would appear, waving at you and asking your day, lingering close by always. Those sheets you put over your mirrors had been taken down, which would have surprised your parents if they were ever home. Namjoon’s presence, lounging in the reflection beside you as you finished schoolwork, was enough to lull you into a type of haze. 

His lips were smooth every time they touched yours, and you were sure his hands would have roamed your body had they been allowed to leave the confines of his home. His words teased and taunted you, instructed you to do things that had you writhing on your bed. They constantly admired you, whispered things that he would do if he could touch you. The more he did, the more you found yourself gravitating towards your reflection, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. 

“Namjoon,” you had inquired one day, sitting cross-legged on your bed and staring opposite to him, “what are you?” 

His eyes shined, gazing at yours with a curious little smile on his lips. “Not of your kind,” was his simple answer. You rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath, shaking your head. Namjoon shifted in the mirror, adjusting himself on the vast expanse of black he sat, legs folded as yours were. “My love, you need just come to know.” 

“Come?” You raised your eyebrows. Namjoon nodded. For a moment, confusion overtook you, but his gaze roamed around the darkness he was engulfed in, and then you understood. You dropped your stare to the floor, speechless. It would be a lie if you hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be where he was, to let his hands finally touch you, to be able to know his scent or the warmth of his body. You had questions that had gone unanswered for too long, questions since Kim Junyoo had disappeared, had always wanted to know what it felt like where he was. 

For days, his words began to turn to this conversation- this wondering of “What if?”, this constant questioning of what life would be like. Namjoon was your first friend, you knew, so it didn’t particularly upset you when you heard the news that Nam Sunyin had gone missing within the expanse of a day, or when Park Mina mysteriously disappeared during a trip to the restroom. You trusted Namjoon. Your judgement was clouded by his words, his promises, his kisses. 

The woods had always been a beautiful place. 

You had always been drawn there, to its vast expanse of tall, thick trees. The small creatures that ran around warmed your heart and you smiled each time a squirrel passed your feet on the trail you walked. The air was cold and your jacket was enough to keep you warm, although your cheeks burned. 

Much had happened in the past week. Your two best friends had gone missing, much to the distress of the local police office. When questioned, you had cried. You had cried when you received a phone call, saying that your parents car had swerved that morning into a treeline. You knew what had happened to all of them, and you knew that the boy you first kissed, the boy who’d grown up with you at school, would be the next one to disappear soon. 

The clearing you searched for appeared before you. You paused, hesitating, staring at the large pond. It was one of the few waterfalls where you lived, and albeit it was small it was beautiful. Murky water fell over the edge, rushing into a fish’s home, before it disappeared in a winding snake formation through the forest. Your bare feet squished the mud between your toes, and suddenly you were cold all over again. 

The darkness of the water made it easy to see your face, tired and weary. Familiar black eyes stared up at you, fingers reaching out for you. And you knew that if you didn’t take his hand, the next person to go missing would be your first kiss, your first boyfriend, maybe your cousins, maybe your aunts and uncles. 

So you leaned forwards, letting his warm fingers grip yours. The rest of it suddenly didn’t matter- it didn’t matter that you were leaving with him for the safety of others, but now you knew why you were leaving. You knew that his smile was addictive and it didn’t matter anymore what he’d done, what he’d do, what he was, where he lived.

Because now he had your hand, and he wasn’t letting go. 

5/31 Days of Halloween // ikontrashimagines 

1/31- I Wonder… -kim taehyung

2/31- pt.4 of Black Blood (wolf au) -jeon jungkook

3/31- Circus - park jimin

4/31- 9773 Melas Road - jeon jungkook

5/31- Mirror, Mirror - kim namjoon

6/31- I Need Help - jung hoseok

[failaise]

9773 Melas Road- jeon jungkook

Group Member: jeon jungkook of BTS

Genre: Romance/Mentions of Sex/AU/Horror

Summary; 

Not all witches have pointed hats.

4/31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN // IKONTRASHIMAGINES

9773 Melas Rd.

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t sure if it was the treeline, or the way the sun set behind the mountains, or how it looked when it rained, but there was something about Andong Village that drew him there. Perhaps it was the people, who seemed to always bear happy faces and shining eyes, the jovial laughter of children as they joined forces on the playground. Whatever it was, it had grabbed him by the ear and reeled him in visit after visit, until his visits to the small town became week-long, then month-long. Before time could tell, Jungkook was lifting square boxes into his home, inhaling the scent of pine wood and cinnamon that had been there when he first arrived.

And there was a girl.

Jungkook knew where she lived, because his first trip to Andong had involved her and a couple drinks and a kiss goodbye, a promise for when he returned. He remembered the shape of her lips and had mapped out her features down to the little weaved lines of her iris, how her neck smelled like vanilla when his nose nestled into it. The recollection of her expression, the happy one she made when he said something that amused her, made his heart warm and Jungkook smiled as he settled against the wall of his kitchen.

A knock on the open doorframe of his home spun him around. Stood on the porch, an unfamiliar face peered at him, a polite smile plastered on. A woman held a grocery bag at her side, straight black hair pulled back in a neat bun. She reeked of expensive perfume, rosy cheeks bunched up as she waved towards him. Jungkook’s bare feet slapped the wood as he reached her.

“I saw you’re moving in,” the stranger bowed and Jungkook briefly wondered how old she was before he tilted his body forward in response. “I had this already baked for some other friends, but I figured it would be nice to welcome you with pastries.”

Jungkook flashed her a neat smile, “You don’t have to.”

She shrugged, dark eyes skimming the inside of his newly-furbished home, pink lips in a curved line, “I wanted to.” Pristine fingers held out the bag to him and Jungkook laughed awkwardly in thanks as he took it from her, twisting it around the warm surface of his calloused palm. “I’m Jeongyun, I live down the street.”

“Jungkook,” Jungkook returned with a lopsided smile. A silence fell over the two strangers and the older man watched her unsurely, eyebrows slightly burrowed down into the round sphere of his eye, a strand of hair awkwardly fallen onto his forehead. In an effort to ease the silence, he cleared his throat and inquired, “Is there anything I should know about this neighborhood? Like, don’t eat Soyoun’s stew, or something?”

Jeongyun laughed lightly, but it was the abrupt, forced nature of her laugh that made Jungkook arch an eyebrow. “Not really,” she looked over her shoulder and brushed a strand of her bun behind her ear, bottom lip screwed between her teeth. Jungkook watched suspiciously as she seemed to survey the neighborhood, suddenly gripping the hem of her shirt. When she turned back around, her eyes were wide, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, “Well, maybe one.” Before he had the chance to ask, she continued, “There’s a woman on our street. People think she’s a witch.”

The bluntness of her words made Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with amusement, “A witch?”

Jeongyun nodded vigorously, “I don’t speak her name.” Her face was contorted with seriousness, not a hint of a joke on her lips. “Sometimes, children go missing… some say they’re kidnapped, others that they get lost in the forest. But none of them ever return. People think it’s the witch.”

Jungkook wanted to laugh in her face, but the way she nervously twitched at the story made him think that she believed this tale. He pursed his lips and glanced away from her, suddenly stiff with his gaze aimed towards the floor.

Jeongyun flashed him a smile, “I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, Jungkook. Just a warning.” With that, she turned on the heel of her flat shoes, bouncing away from his home with a polite, friendly wave in his direction. Jungkook watched, allowing a sigh to escape his lips when he witnessed her disappear into her home just a block away.

Her story had him chuckling under his breath as he rearranged the boxes in his living room. Jungkook couldn’t quite believe that some people still thought that witches existed, the possibility being close to one that vampires stalked the forests at night. Shaking his head in amusement, he found himself an hour later, cable finally set up and his phone in hand as something on Netflix played in the background. A familiar, shining face flashed from his screen, obscuring the vision of someone’s odd story online. The name that popped up, paired with the smile, sent a rush of warmth through his face.

“Hello?”

There was silence, before a loud, welcoming voice greeted him, “Jeon Jungkook!”

“______ ______!” Jungkook laughed, cheeks pink as he sat forward, suddenly pausing the show. Your voice was one he’d missed the past days while you had been on vacation somewhere, but the sound of it was enough to make a flood of memories rush into his thoughts, and the smile quickly became a grin. “What’s up?”

“I just got back!” Your overwhelming amount of excitement forced him to his feet, pacing the living room with his thumb bit between his teeth to keep himself from screaming.

“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes widened with enthusiasm. “You mean, you’re in town right now?”

The beautiful echo of your laugh reverberated through the speakers of his headphones, “Yeah! Do you still want help moving stuff in?”

Jungkook looked around his home, quickly surveying it. He hadn’t had much stuff before he arrived, so it was easy to unpack trivial things like silverware and shaving cream, while setting up his bed had taken some effort. Everything was remotely finished, except for the fact that he felt lonely in his home all by himself.

“Yeah,” he breathed, smiling. “I have takeout and Netflix, if you wanna come over.”

He heard your sudden intake of breath and his chest elapsed with the thought that you were just as excited to see him as he was to see you, “Sure! Send me the addy.”

Jungkook chuckled at your slang, “I will. See you soon, jagiya.”

On the other end of the phone, your cheeks brightened.

“See you soon.”

Your stay was one that Jungkook more than welcomed.

There was something about you, a light he could allude, that made his home brighten. The scent of cedar grew stronger and your hair was like honey underneath his nose while you rested your head against his chest. Days had been spent in his living room, simply growing accustomed to one another again, making up for the lost time while he’d let Andong. Phone calls and pictures were nothing compared to the way you writhed atop him, how intimate his name sounded slipping from your swollen lips. He was glad you were there, a constant star shining in his very own house.

The corners of your eyes crinkled with a smile when you watched him return from the kitchen with a bucket of newly-heated chicken and two soda cups. “Thank you,” you sang, eagerly accepting the food from him. Your cheeks were flushed from your previous activity, other accounts of it hidden by his long t-shirt, yet some flourishing stains of purple were beginning to come in on the side of your neck and shoulder. The sight of you in his clothing made his heart swell as he came to sit beside you, already chewing on a chicken wing.

“So,” you swallowed and looked up at him with those shining eyes, “have you met your neighbors yet? Baked anyone cookies?”

“Well,” Jungkook plopped beside you and glanced at the kitchen, “I did have one visitor.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up and you nudged his muscular bicep with your elbow. “Was she cute?”

“She was alright,” Jungkook teased, rolling his eyes. “She was no _____, that’s for sure.”

You instinctively looked away, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your bite, “Shut up.”

“She’s freakier than you are though,” Jungkook laughed at your shocked expression, imagining all the things he could do, or put in, those pretty parted lips of yours. “I’m serious! She told me to ‘watch out for the witch’, or something.”

“Jeongyun,” you sipped your Dr. Pepper in amusement, “she and her book club tell everyone that story.”

“You met her too?” Jungkook’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

You nodded and hit his shoulder, “Jeon Jungkook, how many times do I have to remind you? I live right down the street. She bought me a pumpkin pie when I first moved in. I thought she was really nice, until I heard her preaching to the Housewives of Melas Road. She’s really adamant that there’s some kind of, like, witch.”

Jungkook snorted, “There is. I’m looking right at her.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “You’re right.”

Your bottom lip jutted out as you pouted and the sight of it was so delectable that he couldn’t help but set the bucket down onto the floor, food forgotten. “Come here,” he purred, leaning towards you so that the greased expanse of his lips could brush against yours. You smiled against his mouth, allowing him to lean you back into the soft cushions of his couch, running your hands down the muscular curve of his spine.

“Jungkook,” you whispered as his mouth disappeared into the collar of his shirt, tentatively licking the skin there, “let me cook for you one of the days.”

He came across a particularly sensitive part of your chest, moaning at your words. One of his hands disappeared beneath the fabric and you found yourself instinctively parting your legs for him, as you always had, “Okay, baby.”

Days of your stay at his home turned into weeks. Not long after the first few times of falling asleep in his bed, comfortable in his warmth, Jungkook had asked you to officially be his girlfriend- an offer you couldn’t refuse. It was to be expected that you were over for dinner every night, cooking the meat stew that Jungkook continuously gulped down with a wet, appreciative grin. It was one evening, while the two of you were engrossed in a film and slurping on your dinner, that there was a terrible pounding on his front door.

“I’ll get it,” you told him, dropping your spoon into the bowl and jumping over the back of the couch.

“I got it,” Jungkook objected, following after you. “It could be a murderer.”

“It’s just Jeongyun,” you said after peeping through the hole. The door swinging backwards revealed the woman, who stood shaking in trepidation, eyes wider than the moon and her hair a mess.

“She took my child,” Jeongyun suddenly announced, lips trembling into an angry, vengeful sneer. You and Jungkook exchanged worried, fooled looks. “That god damned bitch took my baby girl.”

Jungkook blinked, not believing he’d heard the erratic woman correctly. “Sorry?”

“Kim Leehin,” Jeongyun growled. You were sure if she could transform in that moment, she’d be something like a snarling wolf, whose fangs barred looked intimidating but the round, frantic look in his eye said that it was his first hunt. “She’s the witch. She’s the fucking witch.”

You furrowed your brow. In Jungkook’s driveway were an army of husbands and wives, looking about as angry as a mob from the Salem Witch Trials, minus the pitchforks. White knuckles gripped knives and guns, a woman with honey-colored skin angrily twisting a rope around in her fingers, another with a gallon of gasoline. “Jeongyun…” you whispered in fear, “what’re you doing?”

“Jagiya,” Jungkook grabbed you by the hand and pulled you behind his back, “don’t listen to her. She’s crazy.”

“No!” Jeongyun yelled. Her palm slammed into the doorframe, eyes wild and frantic. “She’s going to get what she deserves. Come if you want, but you won’t stop us.”

That was her invitation as she stormed down the pavement, moving on to the next house of locals to irritate. You watched her go, swallowing uncomfortably, before you looked back at Jungkook.

“I’ll call the police,” Jungkook insisted. You nodded in agreement and shifted your feet, listening to the sounds of your boyfriend’s voice pestering an officer through the phone. All the while, you thought solemnly, wondering how a woman like Jeongyun could be so… insane.

It was not even a day later did a local pair of teenagers stumble across Kim Leehin’s corpse in the forest. You had read the newspaper and heard the chatter. She’d been strung up by the neck, in a way that didn’t choke her but kept her live enough for the fire to be lit. She’d been charred blackened to bone. You resented the police force for ignoring your warning calls, for believing Jeongyun’s manic story of kidnapping, for allowing an innocent woman to be killed.

Maybe that’s what you regretted the most: allowing an innocent woman to be strangled and burned to death. Maybe that Jeongyun would live her life without knowing that her daughter’s voice had called out for her last, or that her flesh slid right off the bone.

But damn, if those little beasts didn’t taste so good.

4/31 in the Halloween Series for BTS, Monsta X, iKON, and GOT7

Previous & Later

1/31- I Wonder… -kim taehyung

2/31- pt.4 of Black Blood (wolf au) -jeon jungkook

3/31- Circus - park jimin

4/31- 9773 Melas Road - jeon jungkook

5/31- Mirror, Mirror - kim namjoon

6/31- I Need Help - jung hoseok

[failaise]

Circus- park jimin

Summary: This past summer, something happened to your best friend. 

Genre: Romance/AU

Group Member: Park Jimin of BTS

3/31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN // ikontrashimagines

circus. 

“Slow down!”

The familiar euphonious laughter of Park Jimin reverberated through the air. It rumbled from low in his chest behind you, gradually becoming tiny squeaks that brought a smile to your face. Jimin hurried after you, fingers outstretched to take your hand. The grass beneath your feet squelched as you skid to a stop, head tilted back so that your wide, awestruck eyes could swallow in the view before you.

The Sori Festival had been in town for days now, almost a whole week, and every passing moment you didn’t spend walking the fairgrounds you felt as if you might die. With the exam term finally having ceased, there was time for you now to visit the same Autumn Festival you visited every year. Its expanse covered more than 500 acres, and of it were rides, mirror rooms, haunted houses, food shops- everything you practically lived for. Being in its presence after waiting a year put that peace back in your heart you felt whenever the weather was cool like this, whenever the sky was cloudy and the sun was shining and the leaves had turned.

“When did you get so fast?” Jimin’s cold fingers found yours and intertwined the pairs, giving them a squeeze. You looked over your shoulder at him, a wide grin stretched ear to ear.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the brilliant shade of your eyes, twinkling up at him, crinkled at the edges like they always did when you smiled. In the sunlight, your skin glowed, reflecting it backwards in a way that made you seem otherworldly, like you didn’t belong in such a setting but instead in some forest, dancing amongst the creatures. As always, you didn’t notice the way he stared, how he ogled at the sheer brightness of your grin or at the warmth your palm provided, which his own lacked. The thought jerked at his insides and he forced himself to look away, to not focus on the inevitable truth that one day those fingers he so longed to hold would wrinkle, would become charred and rot away, that the warmth you held for his heart would turn to ice. His heart twisted in his chest.

Him holding your hand was nothing out of the ordinary- in fact, you tended to think he meant it in a brotherly fashion more than he did romantically. At least, you told yourself this, trying not to think of how handsome he always looked, especially in the flannel and jeans and barefaced and with those eyes and lips it was hard not to stare. Park Jimin had been your best friend since the two of you were 3, the product of a pregnancy pact between your mothers. Unfortunately for his, your mom had moved to the States before you were born, had grown pregnant there while her other half grew pregnant in the calm city of Busan. After your birth and some time, you, your mother, and your father returned to your mother’s home, and there you and Jimin had met.

Through years of friendship, you discovered how you felt when you were twelve, your heart jarring when you watched him and Kim Soyoun exchange his first kiss on the local playground. From that point on, you vowed to view him only like a brother- kissed boys who didn’t interested, did more than that with boys who less than appealed to you, ignored how none of them ever spoke to you again- half of you suspected Jimin had had a word with them, since he was the only one who knew. When one texted you hours on end then suddenly stopped after Jimin had left to get groceries, you knew then who’d been ruining your love life.

It didn’t anger you, but it piqued your curiosity. Why, if Park Jimin could have anyone he wanted, would he stop those who wanted you?

“I smelled popcorn,” you teased in him return to his previous inquiry, grinning all the while. He held your hand as he two of you eagerly strolled through the entry gates. An excited squeal tore past your lips and you left go, hurrying to find where the caramel popcorn was being sold.

Jimin watched your youthful self disappear into the crowd, a grin on his face. He imagined what life could be like- the two of you, in eternity, visiting this fair year after year and yet, no wrinkles should appear. His decision was made then, as he listened to the sound of your voice, the only noise in the crowd he could hear, humming pleasantly to yourself and muttering words of excitement.

“Jagiya,” Jimin laughed, appearing from behind you with his hands on your hips. You pushed down the emotion in your throat, ignoring how great his hands felt on you. “You’re so cute.”

You pretended that his compliment didn’t affect you, yet you blushed, shrugging, “I know.”

He chuckled and listened to your order, then turn back and inquire as to what he wanted. You’d guessed correctly and soon, after he handed the bill to the cashier, the two of you were walking with red-and-white striped bags and mouthfuls of popcorn. “What ride do you wanna go on?” Jimin asked, half-moon eyes glued to yours.

You surveyed the area and looked over the different rides, as if you didn’t already know them by heart. At the far left, you viewed a ferris wheel, and turned back to grin at him. “That one.”

“Oooh,” Jimin teased, “romantic.”

“I guess you better find someone to ride with,” you returned easily, your dry humor throwing him off guard for a moment. At the sight of your half-smile, relief flooded him and he shook his head.

“You’re such a brat,” his grip curled around your wrist and Jimin pulled you into his side, one arm draped over your shoulder.

His body was cold, though his clothes were warm, and the information only made the worry inside you grow. Something had been off with him since the start of summer, when he started disappearing and making “errands” and excuses to not eat dinner with you like you two always had with your families. Before, Jimin was a furnace- your personal heater, you would joke as you held his warm hands in your cool ones during the winter. But now, he emitted no heat, just a neutral temperature that sometimes would make your spine crawl with chills.

The two of you waited in line, playing a game of catching popcorn in your mouth. Jimin’s squeaky laughter warmed your insides when you caught two before the third one hit you in the eye. In return, the sound of your childish giggles and taunting words forced a smile onto his face, and he pretended that he was angry when he lost one piece of popcorn though the twinkle in his eyes was what gave him away. Briefly, you wished it could always be like this- that it could always be autumn, that you’d always have Park Jimin at your side, that maybe, somehow, old age would never arrive.

The two of you came to the front and soon you were climbing into an open orange pod decorated like a pumpkin. The tight space put you so that Jimin had one arm around you, and you were leaning into him, laughing softly when he pretended to eat flies out of your hair. After a moment, you felt his chin lean onto the top of your head, those icy fingers pushing strands behind your ears and twisting them around his thumb. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your hair.

The sudden compliment sent heat rushing into your cheeks at top speed. You looked down, ignoring how he kissed the back of your head, trying not to think about how his lips were on your ear, humming gently into your bones.

“Jagiya,” he whispered, the cold air brushing against your skin. You looked back at him, eyebrows raised in questioning. Jimin didn’t say anything more, but he simply stared at you, not focusing on the gorgeous scenery but instead using it as a means of backdrop against your face. Your eyes were wide, curious, shocked as his searched your lips, the color of your iris, the one odd curly hair that framed your right cheek. His palm reached up to the side of your neck and he ignored the way your veins pulsed into his hand, how he could hear your heart pounding in your chest. “Can I kiss you?”

The question stunned you into a silence. Dumbfounded, you stared back at him, breath caught in your lungs. He waited for the curt, confused nod of your head to lean forwards and brush his lips to yours. They were soft, cold against your warm ones, but they provided cushion and his fingers brushed your hair back, tickled your cheek, held your jaw as he kissed you- again, and then again, and then again. You leaned forward into his hold and smiled when the tips of your noses brushed together.

A breath of air escaped your lungs when he finally pulled away. Jimin’s eyes were jocund moons shining down at you. You looked absolutely breathtaking there, in that single moment of happiness, with your lips flushed with color your features arranged into shock and astonishment, the sunlight glowing from behind you. Jimin felt his chest expand and he held your face gently.

He couldn’t bare to think of what life would be without you.

-

“This one?”

Jimin held your hand closely, the sleeve of his flannel dropping down onto yours. You nodded, beaming as you pointed towards the haunted hayride. It was your favorite attraction, one they didn’t have any of the years before, so the bare sight of it sent eagerness sparking up your feet. His eyes lingered on the sign, then they moved towards you- there, young and beautiful and amazing and he couldn’t say no, not to those eyes.

The sun had long since gone down as the two of you climbed into the back of the self-driven truck. There was no old creepy man to drive, but instead a steered rollercoaster cart made to look like a truck, following the hidden tracks of a trail that led through the forest. A woman dressed up as a zombie waved goodbye, a sinister grin on her face. She turned her back and disappeared to the front gate and the truck lurched forwards into the trees.

“_____,” Jimin held your hand from beside you, eyes solemn, “I need to tell you something.”

You had seen him pondering before. You knew Jimin well enough to know when he was hiding something, to know that he felt guilty keeping it from you. But, you had decided if he couldn’t tell you, he couldn’t tell anyone, so you waited for the moment when he would say something. And in your luck, it was the same moment that a fake pair of corpses dropped out of the trees.

You let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped into Jimin, but found that he wasn’t there. Confusion outweighing your fear, you turned to see that he had disappeared, leaving no trace of himself on the truck. With wide eyes, you spun around in time to witness him, stopped in the cleared road, watching you ride away on the vehicle. He looked odd, standing there, suddenly more pale than you remembered.

“Jimin, what the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, spit flying from your lips. You scanned the area quickly before jumping off the ride as well. The soles of your boots crushed the dead leaves beneath your feet and you stood, gazing back at Jimin from feet away.

In the moonlight, his skin was silver, brighter than the pale it had become within the last months. You missed his bronze shade and you had constantly questioned him, confused as to how his shade could change within days of his trip to America. “Park Jimin!” You yelled, jogging towards him, your eyes narrowed, “what the hell are you doing?”

Jimin gazed at you longingly, words hanging on the tip of his pink tongue but never escaping. With eyes that weren’t his, with eyes that glowed white in the darkness, he stared at you, guilty and confused and yet jovial all the same. The sudden starkness of his iris slowed you to a halt, lips parted in jerked, fooled breaths. When he spoke your name, you heard the difference of his tone and felt his voice in the air, just as cold as the breeze if not colder. He inched towards you and you were too shocked to object.

“Jimin, what’re you doing?” You whispered, teeth chattering. The temperature had dropped degree after degree, creating goosebumps along your skin, but the adrenaline pumping in your chest sent heat coursing through your veins.

His silver eyes blinked slowly, watching you like a tiger would watch a gazelle. You swallowed, unable to move, as his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer. The suspicions you felt were true became honest in that moment, when he was before you and you could see his straight pearly teeth, suddenly jagged, pointed, at the canines as if he were some type of on-screen character. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding your fingers that would never come to know an age older than twenty, gripping them so tightly you thought they might break off. “I love you, you know that, right?”

And he did. You were sure he did. Park Jimin was your friend, your brother, your father, your lover, the man you’d known since you were three and loved since you were twelve. He was a part of your life that never wavered, that was a steady constant rumbling at an unseen vibration all around you. You weren’t scared of him or what he’d do to you, but his shaking pupils and cold fingers were enough to make your constitution waver.

“Jimin…”

He stared down at you, unfamiliar silver eyes familiar all at once, yet the curve of his lips into a frown and the lump in his throat was strange.

“What’re you going to do to me?”

2/31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN//ikontrashimagines

1/31- I Wonder… -kim taehyung

2/31- pt.4 of Black Blood (wolf au) -jeon jungkook

3/31- Circus - park jimin

4/31- 9773 Melas Road - jeon jungkook

5/31- Mirror, Mirror - kim namjoon

6/31- I Need Help - jung hoseok

[failaise]

I Wonder...- kim taehyung

Summary Quote:  “I never thought it would be me. No one ever thinks it’s them, you know? I should’ve known. I should’ve said something when I smelled the cologne, should’ve spoken up every time she left early at dinner. But I loved her. And if she didn’t love me… I would make her.”

Genre: Angst/Mentions of Sex/Violence

Group Member: Kim Taehyung of BTS

WARNINGS: WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC IMAGERY. IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, DON’T READ. 

Song of the Chapter: assanine race by fire on fire

I Wonder...

Part 1/31 Days of Halloween- ikontrashimagines

TRANSCRIPT OF OCTOBER 1 2016 911 CALL FROM KIM TAEHYUNG TO ALICIA MASSIE

[October 1 2016 7:32 PM Respondent: Alicia Massie]: 911. Police, fire, or medical? 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?

[October 1 2016 7:33 PM: [phone]]: ...Hello? 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: Sir, you’ve dialed 911. What’s your emergency? 

[7:33 PM [phone]]: Oh... right... um, you need to come to my home. 

[7:33 PM Alicia Massie]: What is your emergency, sir? 

[7:34 PM [phone]]: You.... just have to. 

[7:34 PM Alicia Massie]: Sir, what’s the address? 

               October 1 2016 7:34 PM Call to Emergency 911 Ended

For the brief moment that past, he was happy. 

Years spent together, memories and times and dances and tears and laughs, were all what made up the history of what he had with you. High school friends, he sat behind you in math, and he ignored how boys tended to drool over you. The day you agreed to see a movie with him erupted the most profound emotion he’d ever felt bloom in his chest. The day you finally held his hand, his heart swelled, and the day he finally kissed you, his mind had gone black with wonder- “why me?”

You could’ve had anyone you wanted, whether you admitted it or not. You were gorgeous; the time elapsed in pre-calculus with Mr. Woo was spent with him ogling at the back of your beautiful head. And those eyes in that pretty skull of yours, they sparkled oh so brilliantly that he thought they might look like diamonds in the band of an expensive ring. There was a smile that set his chest inflating, a set of perfectly-white teeth that churned his stomach in a wheel. 

In short, the day you married him was... effervescent. 

Taehyung could hold your hand whenever he wished, interlink your fingers and smile at the band of your eyes adorning your left ring finger. He could kiss you, hold you, lick you, bite you- whatever he wanted, and you’d let him with that enticing little smile of yours. No matter what you did, you were perfect. And when your belly swelled with his seed, you were finally his. 

Or, he anticipated. 

Some days, you came home late. He didn’t mind. You had a life- you were busy, an art major at a fancy school with a scholarship that paid your way and more. Taehyung would hum to himself, washing dishes or preparing dinner while he waited for your return. And every night you did. There was no reason to worry, you insisted. You took your vitamins and you ate your pills and didn’t drink, didn’t lift, didn’t do anything but... disappear. He told himself that it was your life, it was your work- he couldn’t ask you to leave that. 

So Taehyung stayed home. He sat in his room, he ate noodles, he watched television and made phone calls and laughed inconsistently with his friends to a movie whose name he had no clue. During one particular evening of visiting with his close friend Min Yoongi, you arrived home, looking tired with your hair a mess and your clothes disheveled. He remembered the stare you gave him- the sudden, shocked sight of him sitting on the couch. 

“What?” Taehyung inquired, dark eyebrows pushing their way up into his black hairline. “Do I have dip on me?” 

He remembered the way you swallowed, shaking your head, saying that he looked handsome either way before you disappeared into your bedroom. Taehyung apologized to Yoongi, who stared at him curiously as he followed his wife down the hallway, lips pursed as to why she was acting oddly. 

Your nose curled at the odd sent wafting through your bedroom, freshly-red mouth thinning into a splinter. “I missed you,” Taehyung’s low voice came, a deep baritone of memory that forced a smile onto your face, no matter how odd you felt. You turned to embrace the man you’d known most of your life, closing your eyes against his warm chest as his cold fingers danced down your spine. 

“I missed you too,” you beamed up at him. For a moment, it was quiet, a soft hushed whisper of Taehyung’s breath ghosting over your lips as the edges of his own curled into a jocund smile. His eyes were the same as they’d always been, a shade of coffee that never ceased to incinerate your insides. Icy palms pressed against your swollen belly and he lowered himself to murmur the same words to the growing infant. 

“I’ll tell Yoongi to go home,” Taehyung smiled up at you as he kissed the stretched skin. At the mention of his friend, your lips tightened, peculiar but a smile nonetheless. His stare skipped over this particular notion and he hurried out to usher his friend home. You watched his broad back disappear through the doorframe, allowing a breath you’d been holding to spill out into the air, a cold puff that made you shiver. 

The smell returned.

“My mom’s coming back tonight,” Taehyung told you cheerfully as he spooned a cup of spaghetti into a porcelain bowl set up before you. His eyes were shining, sweeping over the state of you, hair a bit ratty, cheeks a bit hollow, but you were beautiful. He leaned forward to brush a strand of cold hair behind your small ear and kissed the surface of your forehead. 

“That’s great,” you returned with an encouraging stare. Taehyung nodded jovially and plopped down across from you, though he reached out to curl his warm fingers in yours. A slow gaze moved down to them- the tiny appendages, a fleshy color of bronze stained with paints that directly contrasted against yours. Curiosity pooled in your chest but you squeezed back, thanking him for the meal. 

“How was school? Paint anything special?” Your husband inquired with a mouthful of stained noodles. After a moment of swallowing, you jerked your head. 

“Mm,” you returned. As the noodles slid down your throat, the cold returned. Quivering, you focused your attention on the bowl, but the crimson color of jagged shards of tomato turned your insides upside down and you ran, hurrying to the restroom to heave that day’s lunch into a different bowl. Taehyung eyed your food curiously, wondering what could have set you off, before he scurried after your stumbling frame. 

Where had once been clear water was now dancing with ribbons of red, spinning around before it disappeared down the drain. Taehyung stood with his hand on your frigid shoulder. Shaking with trepidation, discolored eyes slid up his frame to his stare, chapped lips forming words which disobeyed him. 

“What’s happening to me?” The voice which spoke was tiny, shrill- not yours but the voice of something else’s. Coarse and shrewd, it sounded as if wind could barely pass your vocal chords, a choked noise that made your head spin. 

“You’re...” Taehyung searched the once vast expanse of your eyes, swimming around the lightening color of your pretty irises, wondering why they seemed to far away, “beautiful.. As always.” 

That god awful stench returned, sliding up the dry canvas of your nostrils, and earned itself the last of the contents swimming around your belly. In a number of ways, this smell had become the last straw, the one which jerked you to your feet in a frenzy to find its source. 

“_____!” Taehyung yelled after you, eyes bulging in round half-moons with worry. His bare feet slapped the wood as you jogged to your guest room. The door threw itself open as you entered, quick to survey for the scent. Black fingernails graveled at the bed sheets, throwing them across the room, knocking the books off the shelf and sending pencils flying to the bathroom. Angry footsteps shook the ground in your tirade, your exhibition of dead hope. 

“Where is it?!” You shrieked. Taehyung ran in the path you’d already took, begging you to calm down, yelling for you to stop. You didn’t speak of the matted hair in his fingernails, or the fact that the paint on his wrist didn’t seem to be paint at all. The last room to check was the one at the end of the hall- the one you hadn’t visited in your late night returns. 

Taehyung begged you, he pleaded for you to cease your search but as the door swung back and slammed into the glass vase on the wall, your search had already been ceased. The repugnant stench swayed its way to your nose, sliding up and twisting your guts around. In that moment, you realized the paint staining your husband’s fingers was not paint at all, but the same substance which covered every canvas and decorated the walls. 

Crimson. The overwhelming sight of dried, darkened splatters were random yet diligent, as if he might’ve stood there for hours trying to make their appearance aimless. In the corner of the room was something so lifelike you thought for a moment you were dreaming- that the figure with your eyes and hair was artificial. Yet, as Taehyung faltered behind you, you took hesitant steps forward, trembling fingers outstretched. The closer you got, the more the scent hit you, drowning you in that foul stench. 

Your fingertips grazed the same cheek your bore. The figure didn’t move, didn’t heave their chest in a breath, but kept whitened eyes straight forward, as if they were staring at something your own eyes couldn’t quite see. Their lips were chapped, lifeless, matted hair parted so that you could see the indent in their skull, like it might be if someone had taken a bludgeon to it. But it was the sight of your own body, still and dressed up in your regular paint-stained clothing, propped up in a seat with a paintbrush in your hand and tiny, little wormy creatures squirming around in your cheek that led you to one conclusion. 

“Taehyung...” you turned, eyes tearful as they found the blank stare of your husband, “...am I dead?” 

RECORDING OF KIM TAEHYUNG’S HOLDING TESTIFICATION 

1/31 Days of Halloween- ikontrashimagines October Series

1/31- I Wonder… -kim taehyung

2/31- pt.4 of Black Blood (wolf au) -jeon jungkook

3/31- Circus - park jimin

4/31- 9773 Melas Road - jeon jungkook

5/31- Mirror, Mirror - kim namjoon

6/31- I Need Help - jung hoseok

[failaise]

Savior- k.s.

“There was a boy I saw every day at the same place, same time. The only times he didn’t show was when the moon was full.”  

-9773 Melas Road, Jeon Jungkook

-I Wonder… Kim Taehyung

-Mirror, Mirror, Kim Namjoon

I Need Help, Jung Hoseok

Circus, Park Jimin

Black Cat, Min Yoongi

October 1st, 2016 5:00 p.m. (Pacific Time Zone)

[failaise]

Black Cat- m.y.

“There was this neighborhood cat, no one knew who he belonged to. But he stopped by sometimes. And then I had a new roommate.”

-9773 Melas Road, Jeon Jungkook

-I Wonder… Kim Taehyung

-Mirror, Mirror, Kim Namjoon

I Need Help, Jung Hoseok

Circus, Park Jimin

Savior, Kim Seokjin

October 1st, 2016 5:00 p.m. (Pacific Time Zone)