#specifically figurines because i love me a knick knack

[peskellence]

guess who was disappointed by the lack of affordable DBH merch so decided to make their own

[wicked-game-black-butler]

Pass the happy! When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the most recent people in your notifications!

Oooh! More happy things! 🤗

1. Anything related to my stories (whether fanfiction or original works), specifically artwork- I can't express how giddy, over-the-moon happy I get when I see artwork for my stories. There's just something deeply validating about seeing something you've written in more concrete, visible form. This is a high I'm currently riding right now, thanks to @peonacotton and @l-amour-du-ciel. (Just a general shout out for both of them, if you're considering getting artwork done for your stories, I highly recommend reaching out to them to see if they're accepting commissions. They're both brilliantly talented and a joy to work with. 😊)

2. Walking- I may have mentioned this one before, but I love walking. Being able to be out in the fresh air, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, and seeing the beauty of nature does my heart a lot of good.

This is a picture I took on a walk I took on my lunch break...

3. Exercising/training- Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd put something like this on a list of "things that make me happy", yet here it is. With my health conditions, there have been several things in my life that have been taken from me, but training has given me something I can pour myself into and see and feel results of my efforts and, in a weird way, reclaim some sense of control. I never thought I'd be able to dead lift 180 lbs or hold a plank for over a minute, but training has enabled me to do that, even when my body is failing in other ways. It's just empowering and it helps me cope. 😊

4. Babies- human babies, puppies, kittens, ducklings, you name it. If it is tiny and cute, I become a blubbering mess of affectionate cooing and am overcome with the need to hug it, lol.

5. My figurines- these little guys are one of my favorite knick-knacks and I miss seeing them every day because they're on my desk in my office right now. But there's just something about seeing them that makes me happy and I add to my collection whenever I can. I've even taken a few on my travels...

Erwin at a beach in Ireland because that man deserves to see the ocean...

Levi and Erwin in London (because the Eruri feels are real 😭)...

I'm planning on taking Sebastian on my next travel abroad (we'll see when that can actually happen, though).

Thank you for submitting this ask. These are always so much fun to do. 😊 And thank you for bringing so much happiness to the Kuro fandom family, both through your writing and who you are as a person. You are definitely someone who makes me happy as well. 💕

[perpetually-jungshook]

Without You: Bloodstone (Part 24)

Genre: AU, bts!werewolf, fantasy, angst

Warnings: language, violence, suggestive content

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Werewolves, contrary to popular belief, are usually gentle creatures. Except for a very specific set of circumstances, they would never hurt a human (on purpose). The few unfortunate times when mistakes were made put a permanent dark mark on the beasts and people began labeling them as monsters. What the human population failed to recognize was the fact that they were protecting us from something much more sinister. Luckily, a few survived and the gene was passed down hereditarily until one day finding its way to me… in the form of my best friend.

Link to: Storyboard (reference pictures) | General lore post | Intimacy lore post Prologue | Previous | Masterlist | Next

Loyalty is often as blind as justice should be, as unstable as a lightning storm ought to be, and as misplaced as an opinion in the truth.

Chapter 24:

No matter how suspicious I am of Munhee, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. She’d probably just sealed a demon inside a body (which takes a lot of energy) or had banished one (whatever that entails). Now, on top of that and almost directly afterward, she has to exorcise or cleanse the traces Halsahm had left inside me.

I have so many questions, about my friends, about Jimin, about the “good spirit” that’s apparently enabling magic within me, at least according to the demon; but as Munhee leads me to one of the few unused rooms, I come to realize that even if I somehow found the words to ask, I wouldn’t retain any of the information anyway.

We make it to the nearest door that isn’t Jimin’s and she asks me to lie down. Perching on the edge of the bed, Munhee’s whole body sags in what I can only assume is exhaustion. I don’t press her for information, though the anxiety that someone is hurt beyond repair is an ever present gnawing in my brain. The fact that she says nothing is simultaneously reassuring, yet foreboding.

Hoseok walks through the open door a few minutes later, holding a book and a bucket. He sets them down, then backs away.

“I hope you don’t mind if I stay over here,” he whispers.

Munhee shakes her head, “She’s conscious this time. Hopefully she’ll be able to control herself.”

That doesn’t bode well for me.

The next few hours are excruciating. Munhee doesn’t have enough energy to do the exorcism all in one go. This leads to a cycle of incantations, convulsions, and vomiting. Obviously, Munhee only participates in one out of three of those activities. I partake in the other two.

It’s strange though, despite the full body spasms and the incredible pain that claws at me like hooks being dragged across my insides, I somehow manage to recognize a few things. The bright piercing green in Munhee’s eyes is similar in intensity to the amber color for the wolves’ and just as bright as the crimson in the demons’. I’m assuming in this case it’s a dissipative type of magic, to get rid of the evil spirit. I’m proud of myself, seeing how much my knowledge base and understanding of magic have expanded.

By the time Munhee sits back, declaring she’s finished, panting hard, Hoseok has long since gone, Namjoon stopped by to check on us and brought water, and Seokjin placed a tray at the door with food for both of us. She weakly pats my shoulder as the last of the foamy white bile expels itself from my stomach. As I look into the bucket, finding a blood laced mess, dried and crusty in some parts, highly viscous to runny in others, it almost makes me vomit again.

“I’ll get that for you,” she gently takes the bucket after closing the book. “Try to drink some water and eat what you can. I’ll have someone bring you dinner. You and I both need to get our energy back.”

Munhee stands and stiffly makes her way toward the door, book under one arm, half full bottle of water in hand, and bucket handle in the other. She scoots the empty tray into the hall with her foot before closing the door. I don’t hear her lock it.

After a small sip of water, I allow myself to collapse on the bare mattress. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon. No, realistically, more like two miles. My body aches, but the throbbing seems to have stopped. Any progress is good progress, right?

Sleep comes too quickly.

The next few days pass in a blur, a fluid state of wake and sleep. Certain things stick out to me, but they’re like events in a movie montage, only less cohesive and clean cut. One moment flows into, then tangles with the next. I remember Namjoon, Hoseok, Munhee, even Jungkook, but they’re all as tangible as ghosts. I remember food, water, moving to a bed that’s made with soft sheets and pleasantly heavy blankets.

Between these moments of lucidity, all I see are the piercing blood red eyes of demons and all I hear is the uncannily whimsical laugh of the little girl, accompanied by the whispered phrase:

You’re mine.

The first sight I truly wake up to see is Jimin. I want to recoil, but he’s not doing anything wrong. In fact, he’s sleeping, curled into a ball next to the bed, head resting on the mattress beside me. I try to keep still as I slowly regain awareness, not wanting to wake him up out of common human decency. The details of his face fade in and out of focus, but it’s more like a soft blur than the nightmare I’d been slipping in and out of.

His hair has fallen across his forehead and eyes, making them hard to see, but they are definitely closed. His breathing is peaceful and even, lips slightly parted, a little chapped. He’s not bruised anymore, but his cheeks are a bit paler than normal. Still, if he’d treated me differently, maybe I would think he’s beautiful- no, he is beautiful. If he had treated me differently, been a decent person, maybe I might have actually grown to love him.

But he took away Jungkook. He took away my freedom to choose Jungkook and for that it would take a miracle for me to even consider him as a friend.

Jimin stirs, his sleep blurred eyes opening slowly. For some reason, I don’t look away, but neither does he. This leads to a few seconds of awkward staring before his eyebrows knit, “What the fuck are you looking at?”

I scoff and try to sit up, but when that fails, I settle for turning onto my other side and facing the wall, making sure to passive aggressively bump his head. I can hear him stand, his voice a bit hoarse, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Right.”

“I’m just not used to people-”

“I don’t care what you are or aren’t used to. What are you even doing in here?”

“Well this is my room so…”

This time, I do manage to sit up. Jimin’s room? I look around, finding the space pristinely clean. I’m not sure what type I originally pinned him as, but it definitely wasn’t this type. The only evidence that the room has been lived in at all is a bookcase that I haven’t seen in any of the other rooms, which is odd considering the uniformity of the furniture in the bunker. On these shelves is a collection of knick knacks- small figurines, a frame filled with pressed flowers, a couple books with titles and authors that I’ve never seen before.

On one of the middle shelves, all by itself, suspended by a hook drilled in the backing, is a necklace. It looks like real silver.

“Why am I in your room?” I ask quietly, taking the malice out of my voice.

Jimin shrugs, crossing his arms, “Would you rather be with the dead body?”

I would rather be in Jungkook’s room, but I guess I should be thankful I’m still alive and in relative comfort. I decide not to reply, running my fingers through my hair as if it’ll clear my thoughts. I’m hungry.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffs.

Taking a calming breath, I swing my legs sideways, out from under the covers before slowly pushing myself up and deciding not to directly respond to that either, “I’m getting food.”

“Let me get it for you.”

“Don’t try to keep me in here, I’m not-”

“Do you really think I’m going out of the goodness of my heart? Because I love you?” he scoffs, upper lip twitching. “You can’t walk.”

“What are you talking about? I can walk no problem.”

As soon as I stand, I fall flat on my side. Jimin hadn’t even moved in an attempt to catch me, but I didn’t expect him to. This appears to be his preferred method of teaching.

He smirks, “So what do you want to eat?”

Fifteen minutes later, Jimin and I sit on his bed, each of us eating a cup of instant noodles, not speaking. He brought a small CD player and soft classical music or traditional folk songs trickle quietly from the speakers. It’s almost pleasant.

“Jimin, why do you hate Munhee?” I don’t look up from my noodles when I ask this, knowing it may provoke him. He hates questions, but I hate sitting here feeling idle.

“I don’t hate her.”

“But-?”

“She irritates me. There’s a difference.”

“Okay,” I relent, scooping noodles into my mouth to give me an excuse not to speak.

Jimin surprises me by continuing, “Among various other reasons, I don’t like her because she treats me like a child. Me and everyone else. I think it’s ridiculous and disgusting.”

I shrug, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, though his words do have a bit of truth to them, even if he acts unfairly or rudely. She’s clearly babied Jungkook and me on several occasions, when our limits could’ve been pushed for further productivity.

“She treats us like pets. With the others, I can understand. They need her, rely on her, have imprinted on her- whatever. They don’t mind being her puppets. But us? You, me, Jungkook… we’re different. We don’t need her.”

I finish chewing and swallowing just in time to reply, “So there’s a ‘we’ now?”

“Touché.”

“Besides, without her, I wouldn’t know what I’m doing- with Jungkook or magic.”

Jimin lets out a dissatisfied huff, “You and I both know I’ve helped you more with training Jungkook than she did.”

“That’s a very vain assumption to make.”

He rolls his eyes, “If I hadn’t said anything his progress would’ve plateaued.”

“Do you have a complaint for my magic training too?”

“No.”

“I’m surprised.”

He sets his empty cup aside, frowning, “I’m not an entirely terrible person.”

“That’s an opinion.”

I don’t know what’s making me so snarky with him. Maybe the fact that I’m tired. Maybe the fact that I’m tired of him.

Jimin sighs, his gaze dropping to the bed, “Another reason I dislike her? She was his tutor, you know.”

“Who?”

“Munhee tutored Namjoon. I’m not sure how they met or what she’d been ‘teaching’ him, but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that she can use magic and he’s the first one that transformed in the pack?”

A queasy feeling bubbles in my stomach, but I’m not about to start making conspiracy theories again- not until I see some solid, irrefutable evidence. As I’ve concluded before, most of my misgivings toward Munhee are based on suspicion alone and she’s quite frank and honest with me. I have no reason to distrust her. Yet I have every reason to distrust Jimin…

“What if it’s a coincidence?”

“Seriously? You don’t see the connection?” he leans forward, taking the empty cup out of my hands to set it beside his own. For some irrational reason, having nothing in my hands makes me feel alone, vulnerable. His stare pierces through me, as if his eyes were amber, but they’re not. “Wolves transform early only when there are evil spirits around. She knew Namjoon. Namjoon transformed early. She’s summoning demons, Eun.”

I’d thought about it before, especially after seeing the strange pit in the center of the workshop, but at the end of the day correlation is not causation.

“What’s your proof?”

“Namjoon being pack leader is proof enough.”

“No, it’s not.”

The conversation stagnates in a momentary lull, despite the dense amount of information he’s attempting to relay. The classical music makes the room feel oddly stuffy.

“Look, I’m not trying to make you hate her, or prefer me over her or anything. But I’m telling you, that’s what she’s doing.”

“Why would she though?” I can’t help but question him. Summoning demons? It doesn’t make sense.

Would she do it to collect the pack? For what end? She raised them, trained them. She couldn’t mean them any harm. She wouldn’t bring them together like this just to satisfy some vendetta against werewolves. Otherwise why not kill them after they’d imprinted on her, when they’re at their most vulnerable?

Of course, there’s always the possibility that Munhee would try to corrupt the wolf pack so that they eventually wouldn’t hurt demons, but who in their right mind would do that? Who would side with evil spirits? Someone threatened? She has an entire pack to protect her now. Thus the theory circles back, contradicts itself, and I can’t find a motive.

Jimin takes a while to answer, also giving me time to mull it over. I’m not sure if he’s legitimately thinking about it, or if he’s just trying to add suspense; yet when he does speak, the least I can do is appreciate his honesty.

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out, but you have to admit that something seems wrong.”

Jungkook had expressed the same thing to me a while ago. He had been uneasy, but I’d eventually chalked it up to the fact that they had been trapping and containing demons in the bunker. What if…? I shake my head subtly to clear it. No. I’m not going to judge her based on someone else’s gut feelings, whether I trust that person or not. If this whole bite experience has taught me anything, it’s that I need to start making decisions for myself… in the areas that I am able to.

Jimin closes his eyes for a moment before he looks away, over at the shelves, amber tendrils curling into his irises, but never fully consuming them. I follow his gaze to the silver necklace and by the time I look back at him, the piercing yellow is gone.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice is unusually quiet, almost soft.

I can’t say no. I ask him strange questions all the time, so I nod.

“Do you really think… we aren’t monsters?”

“Werewolves?”

“Yeah.”

I let out a small sigh, using it to buy time as I formulate an answer, “Werewolves fight evil spirits, so they aren’t bad in theory. But I think whether or not they are considered ‘monsters’ is up to each person individually.”

Jimin lets out a humorless laugh, “You’re saying I’m a terrible person.”

“I never said that.”

“It was implied.”

Here we go again. Can’t we ever just have one nice conversation? The classical music in the background is noticeably out of place, while at the same time contributes substantially to the overall discord.

“I’m not implying you’re terrible. I’m implying that you’re an asshole.”

“But I saved your life.”

And this is the crux of my problem with Jimin.

“You can save my life dozens of times and I still won’t forgive you for what you did.”

He stands, walking away from the bed so that his back is to me, “Is this about me biting you still?”

“Yes.”

“When are you going to let that go?”

The fact that I’d thought we might have been having a decent talk, even bonding or simply creating mutual respect… it makes his comment hurt all the more. I finally realize that the disparity between our reactions doesn’t stem from a lack of understanding about what happened, but rather from a lack of understanding about how the incident affects me.

“You’re smart, Jimin. I can tell. So why do you insist on being so oblivious?”

He turns around and for the first time, I can see the regret in his eyes, “And you’re a nice person, Eun. So why can’t you understand me? Why can’t you like me?”

“Because you refuse to-”

Before I can finish, he continues, his words clipped, “It’s not my fault. None of this is. I didn’t ask to be attacked. I didn’t ask to have that bastard’s blood shoved down my throat. And I certainly didn’t ask to be abandoned by him afterward. It’s not my fault…”

“No, but it is your fault what you say and do to me,” I remain seated, watching him carefully. “I don’t want to be mean, but it’s the truth. Whatever happened, I’m sorry, but it’s not an excuse.”

Jimin, much to my surprise, slowly lowers himself to his knees beside the bed, resting his cheek on the mattress, mirroring the position he’d been in when I woken up, except now his eyes are fixated on the silver necklace.

“You’re right.”

We don’t say anything to each other after that and I’m almost relieved when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Munhee, checking up on us. She immediately hands me a bottle of water and a silver knife, then tells me she has to do a checkup on my body and mind. Jimin doesn’t protest, whether it’s because he thinks my health is important or because I now have a weapon that is effective against him, I’m not sure. He doesn’t even look as I leave.

She leads the way to her room, asks me a bunch of questions about how I feel and how Jimin treated me. I answer all of them to the best of my ability and as honestly as possible, though remain a little vague about the topic of our “argument.” Munhee lets me go after an hour or so and I return to Jimin’s room, not knowing where else to go. I don’t want to be in “my” new room due to recent gore and Jungkook’s is apparently off limits. A comfortable bed sounds better than anything right now and that means I’m not sleeping on a bare mattress, so even if I have to negotiate and put up with…

Jimin is gone. A little relief floods through me. He’s probably off doing whatever he does when he disappears for days at a time. Hopefully he won’t be mad about me staying here. Maybe it’ll play into the whole instinct thing and soothe him, like how I started staying close to Jungkook originally.

I sigh as I settle beneath the blankets, pulling them up to my nose to shield myself from the cold air flowing out of the air vent. The classical music had been turned off, allowing my mind to wander.

Jimin had relented in the end. Maybe… he can change. It’s a bold assumption and something I’ll probably regret considering later. Still, he has been slightly different since I woke up, since the whole demon incident, and even after the bite. Maybe if I just try a little more, he’ll see that the world isn’t all bad… that the man who “abandoned him” doesn’t matter because as long as Jimin tries to change, tries to become a better person, he’ll have people to support him. I will support him.

But then a month passes, and Jimin has yet to return.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

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