Atlasxrose‌:

anaxcavallero‌:

“Impressive. Any I’d know? Oh, don’t tell me: you’re actually Bill Watterson.” As if Silas were the founder and creator of Calvin and Hobbes, but it was entertaining to tease someone whose only source of threat rendered useless against a vampire. “You should illustrate the people in this town. They’re a colorful bunch. Werewolves, vampires, witches, shifters, cubi…” The list droned on as she held a particular crystal between manicured fingers, observing it with mild boredom in the light. “This is tumbled glass.” And then she’s placed it between them once more. “You leave this place, right? You get out? Please tell me you’re not one of those brooding saps who holes away in their house for all eternity because immortality is a curse.”

A wanderer was deep in the cubi’s bones, though many assumed the opposite with his disposition and occupation. Many thought that owning a shop with such a large array of objects would mean constantly being stationary while Silas often found excuses to leave town for a weekend or more. Brick and mortar didn’t mean having a chain attached, running off at any excuse just to see something new for a little while. It kept him from completely losing his mind, sketching and journaling all along the way. “Don’t tell me you are actually concerned for me,” the cubi stated as his charcoal hues met Ana. Had to be a fluke, Silas was sure of it. Possibly even a chance for her to add another mocking remark about his chosen profession. Nevertheless, he would let it slide off his back like all the rest of her comments that never managed to affect him.

✧

SEND ME A ✧ AND I’LL BOLD ALL THAT APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

kieratandanu​:

   Kiera had learned earl on in life that food was a huge source of comfort. Maybe not for everyone, but for a lot of people. Whenever she had a bad day, her father’s food could cheer her up – or make a good day even better. Now she was happy to do the same for everyone in Corinth Bay who was willing to try her treats. And the expression on his face was pure gold, causing her to laugh. “I wish you could see yourself right now. Like a kid in a candy store,” she teased, as she picked up a piece of brownie to take a bite herself. Maybe one of the downfalls of running a booth at the festivities was that she was seemingly constantly eating herself. “I told you it’s a free taste test and I meant it. Let’s say it’s a thank you for your help with the mask – if you still remember. My aunt loved it.” Picking up a napkin that read love is love, she held it out to him. “You got a bit of frosting on your face. Not that it doesn’t look cute, but if you want to impress someone today, you better get rid of it.”

“How could I possibly forget,” which was a very true statement coming from the incubus. He had a habit of journaling the days to help him remember them, but placing the proper items with the right people never leaked from his memory bank. It also helped that he enjoyed Kiera’s company, even if most of the times they actually found a way to chat was when either of them was working. Delicate fingertips found their grip on the napkin that was offered, licking his lips to snag the reminisces of cupcake before pressing it against his mouth and cheeks. “I appreciate the kind gesture, as usual,” a gentle grin, charcoal irises still holding onto their childlike quality as he attempted to get all the frosting off his face, “Even if I’m not exactly looking to impress, still not sure I would want to walk around with food all over my face.” Though the color might match some of the displays he had seen as he meandered around the festival, Silas had always wanted to blend rather than stand out, “Been able to step away at all?”

to love and lose and still be kind.

Warsan Shire (via wordsnquotes)

leightonhaywood‌:

“The roommate would be the one to ask. She still won’t answer my texts after I last asked her about displaying everything. The moment she breaks, I’ll call you.” He was still being playful, but he was honest about it. He’d seen Silas’ craft, knew the man had an eye for detail. In a strange way, it was something he was almost jealous of. Studying, memorization, that kind of thing came easier to him than any kind of art. With all the time in the world, he’d tried putting his hands to good use to create something, but it was never anything particularly special. Mimicking a tutorial wasn’t really the same as designing and crafting something completely. Tilting his head slightly and leaning forward just enough to squint at some small figure on a shelf, he looked back to Silas. “Where do you find all of this anyways?” Every so often there was something that looked vaguely familiar, like something he’d seen in passing in a far off place that he couldn’t quite…Place for himself.

Silas allowed the topic to die, knowing the complications that came with being plunged into the supernatural world. Instead he focused on the following question— picking and choosing all the items featured in his shop. “Here and there,” the cubi started, looking around the shop a little just to re-familiarize himself with their found locations. Since the transition, Silas had little fear of what he might find behind closed doors and hidden crannies. This often meant rummaging in locations that were breaking down or sheds that hadn’t been cleaned in over a decade. His travels over the years had also helped. Each piece within the shop was not just from the Mediterranean area, but from areas in Germany, France, and some from back home in Korea. Though it did get a bit ridiculous at times when he would have to suddenly move, having to find storage for many of his pieces. “Estates, attics, large shops that are filled to the brim with antiques,” he continued with an air of wonder in his voice, “Some on the side of roads that I re-purposed for a better life. All have probably lived a really unique life that began long before I set eyes on it.”

Drunk humans were always effortless. Especially late in a town with tourists around every corner, unfamiliar with their surroundings and all too trusting. And Silas was starving. After almost a week of not feeding, the cubi would have tried for just about anyone but this at least took less energy. Which, if he was being honest, didn’t have much to spare. The trek just to get to Styx felt like decades and each group of foreigners had him salivating. With a quick slip, Silas could cause one of them to stagger far away enough from their friends that they wouldn’t have noticed for blocks. That could give him plenty of time, but his feet kept hitting the pavement forward.

A small line still hung outside of the club, one of which Silas knew he would never have to wait in and couldn’t help a snicker. He gave the bouncer a gentle nod before bypassing the threshold into the booming melodies. A regular at his shop, his wife had requested a custom bookshelf not even a year back and the access had helped Silas immensely. Strokes of red and purple added an aura to the cubi that in daylight, he frankly didn’t possess. Maybe it also had something to do with the hunger and he quickly found himself perched at the bar top, scanning the crowd before requesting a cocktail. It was a simple cover, but that was all it took for most humans to think he was simply one of them.

@kasandrarosales​

noraxzhao‌:

Every year, Nora intended to dress up for the carnivale, but every year she always showed up like this, in an outfit befitting the weather but otherwise not remotely on-theme as far as the locals were concerned. It didn’t matter, though–she spent the evening with her wife and a steady stream of alcohol that allowed her to maintain a pleasant buzz. And after a few tumultuous weeks, something fun and normal was definitely in order to blow off a little steam. 

“Hi,” she said brightly, then shook Silas’s hand with the one not currently holding a half-full pint of beer. As he lowered the mask, the smile faltered as concern immediately settled in its place. “I– yes, a lot–” She waved off the question about booths and the event itself. “Are you doing okay?”

There was nothing okay with the cubi besides the excitement he felt seeing his work dancing around the festivities on the rare occasion. Swarms of people were in attendance, making it hard to see every piece that was touched by his hand, but when the moment did occur— warmed filled him and for a moment Silas forgot the pure exhaustion that held onto him so firmly. “Yeah, yeah. Just been so busy with the shop, hard to sleep lately,” a bit of a white lie and it was misery inducing to do that to someone like Nora. She had been nothing but a good friend over the span of being in Corinth Bay, especially when it came to helping with the curated items in the shop. That was part of the reasons the cubi had a permanent area to feature her work, along with just being a good soul through and through, “I’m sure after a few drinks while watching the parade will have me falling asleep like a baby.” Or at least he hoped, sporting a friendly grin as he flagged down a woman carrying various wine’s in plastic cups.

opheliancano​:

This is new ground Ophelia finds herself on. She knows more of cubi by reputation and what the furies taught her than personal history, and Silas is nothing like she had been expecting. Perhaps that is why she finds him so fascinating. Green eyes watch for him, from behind the counter of the tea shop, where he had been a frequent patron before the pride festival. Perhaps she’s scared him off? Regrettable, to be sure, though she suspects not many of his species would willingly choose to spend time around her; that had been another point of her curiosity, how he never seemed to be particularly afraid, or even worried in her presence. Ophelia has just about written him off as a willing participant to their game, much to her disappointment, when she finally spies him reenter AnxieTea — and the smile that graces her face is not false, for once. Their song and dance is not quite finished. Good. Once she is certain to not leave her coworker swamped with customers, she steps out to take her break, making a beeline for Silas. “Rather well, I think. So many interesting things to see, and people to meet. I don’t think I’ll be bored.” The double entendre is there, clear as day for anyone who has the appropriate context. And then, because Ophelia has always been bold, she adds, “you were gone for quite awhile. I wondered if I’d seen the last of you.” 

A hardened swallow after a long drink from his tea, processing her words as they lingered in the space surrounding them and made a point to not allow his feelings to surface. The feelings of intrigue and wonderment on how she could have plucked the question from his brain— how she might have actually been concerned for him in some way. Not that an individual being endearing towards the incubus was foreign, his natural magnetism making it fairly simple in most settings, but that was obsolete here. With Ophelia, it was all genuine and that in itself was enough to shake up his perspective. “Hardly,” he finally mustered up in response, a light grin emerging as the tea cup found its place on the coaster in front of them, “Best tea blends in town, if you ask me.” Though they both knew that wasn’t the only reason Silas found himself roaming to its doors, even if his guts refused for him to admit that detail out-loud and tried to keep the subject on her versus himself, “I’m sure not. There always seems to be something exhilarating happening, especially in this town. I’m sure it will be quite effortless for you to find and keep your foothold.” Which was true, her aura calling attention to its daring and valorous nature.

DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS?! ↳ SILAS KYUN: human battle smith specialty artificer @silaskyun

calidavidalis‌:

“People have no taste.” The witch scoffed, cocking her hip and placing a lithe hand on it. “What’s that saying? Modern art is I could do that plus yeah, but you didn’t. Although in this case, I don’t think anyone should have attempted.” Calida approached the artist of the stand, purchased the art, and then threw it away right in front of her and the other convention goers. “Well, that takes care of that.”

Shock hung on the cubi’s face as he watched her hand over the cash and immediately chuck the artwork into the garbage. Sure— the art was complete trash and Silas couldn’t believe someone was even attempting to sell, but was it really worth the money just to throw it away? He stood in silence as she spoke, face still holding a look of surprise, and choked out, “Sure does.”