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melissacoopers‌:

The walk from the Garden to Knick Knack was a familiar one, usually made monthly by a restless woman, looking to once again rearrange the things in her shop like it meant anything. It was something to keep her hands busy and her mind clear, at least. 

What had caught her eye was a charcoal figure of a woman, faceless, with flowers at her feet. Melissa was drawn to figures of women, something she was sure Silas had picked up at this point. “Just the usual, apparently, Silas,” she called to him, looking over her shoulder at the familiar face. There was something about the quiet of the shop and of Silas that helped calm her normally buzzing mind. “Time to redecorate again. Things have been getting dull. How have you been here? I still offer my services to help you rearrange too if you like.” Really, she just wanted to poke around his things even more than she did as a customer. Silas felt a bit like a puzzle to her sometimes.

More often than not, Silas was one to refuse help when it came to such minimal things as his shop. He knew that it could use a more delicate touch, a fresh mind that hadn’t had to do the daily things that a shop like this required, but the cubi still refused. Melissa had become more than just a regular to him, but someone he actually enjoyed as far as company goes. She never seemed to pry for more information and was just generally curious about the life of each trinket before reaching its spot on the shelf. Maybe that was part of the reason Silas still refused. He hardly wanted to slip up on what he truly was, but a different feeling struck him. The feeling of being rude, the thought that it might be even stranger not to allow a kind offer. Especially when it had been given half a dozen times. “Things have been pleasant,” he answered casually, “Weather has been fairly forgiving during my hunts and I couldn’t really ask for more.” For a moment he skirted around the topic of rearranging, trying to find the right words to accept her offer without sounding at least a little desperate. “I can smell spring, which I assume is the direct cause of your own refresh? I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have a little help with my own.”

Knick Knack always attracted many different kinds of people, mostly because the incubus tried to cater to all walks of life. It was the same for anyone looking to sell their artwork and after all these years, Silas had seen just about everything. He noticed each detail and could tell when extra care was taken to design the piece. “The mark of a true craftsman,” he smiled, bits of exhaustion cutting through his tone and moved the ring closer to his eye. Only a few days had passed since the scale had been destroyed, though no matter how much he slept— it just never was quite enough. Running the shop was the only thing pulling him out of bed in the morning, but his strength was coming back slowly. Charcoal hues pulled back as shimmers of the stone danced across his warm expression, “So, what do you think. I have a couple open spots up front that can be personalized to your liking and we can feature your favorites in the window?”

@lenavidalis​

anaxcavallero‌:

“What on earth is this meant to be?” The woman held a particular trinket aloft, dubious of its use or even worth as she scoured Knick Knack in a mild effort to entertain herself. Most of the various items were a far cry from revolutionary to Ana, however she did glean some semblance of amusement from antagonizing the store owner… Regardless of how alluring he might appear. Hues skirted along the notepad lying open at the front counter, her prior item laid beside it as she observed the drawings. “He sketches. Is this a quirky little past time or should I be searching for your name in the newspaper comics?” @silaskyun​

“Both,” the cubi quickly replied, not looking up as the brunette continued to look around the shop. He was used to this kind of behavior from Ana when she came in, not all objects appealing to the vampire and finding many of them worth mocking. Silas honestly didn’t mind. Not all of his knacks were meant for all tastes and his years of hardship had given him especially thick skin. “I’ve done this as a quirk and for money in newspapers, even some political comics if the money was right.” A statement that held a lot of truth, although he wasn’t sure if anyone could actually find his works anymore. War and time had destroyed a lot of things from his past, some was still probably sitting in an artifact collection back in Korea just collecting dust.

Several days had gone by with the curse lifted, but Silas was still showing hints of fatigue. Nightmares had dissipated into solid REM sleep, though the incubus’s body had yet to fully recover. He kept the shop closed for those days, placing a sign for anyone that came by that read “temporarily closed due to illness”, and stayed huddled up in his loft just above. Guilt swiftly crawled into the sheets as he slumbered. The scale had plagued him, changed his core moral compass to something the cubi had never expected nor fully realized. Not until Safiye had ripped it from his grasp to pulverize it, bits of jade and emerald dust fading into nothingness. When he woke, all Silas could think about was his fellow incubus and the way he had treated someone he considered a close friend. Lies and for what reason? An object and a false sense of doing a good deed? Hardly the path the Kyun was known to walk and it showed in the way Gabriel believed him.

The smell of books permeated his nose as the cubi slunk into the library, peeking around each corner in hopes to find the fellow cubi working his usual shift. A text was too impersonal for an apology, charcoal hues bouncing around the room until chocolate locks were seen and Silas made his way over. “Hey—” his usual warm grin and eyes that actually looked as though there was life behind them, “Got a break soon?”

@gabrielxnikephoros​

The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.

Auguste Rodin (via wordsnquotes)

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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).

kaanerdcgan​:

Trust was not something that Kaan gave away easily. When it came to the cubi, he liked to think he could trust them the most. None of them wanted to die and, as far as he was aware, they were some of the only people that knew what their weakness was. If anyone else did, it was probably because one of them said something. However, it was always best to take that secret with them to the grave. Whatever shapeshifter were in town needed to be gotten rid of as soon as possible. He wished it was that easy. “Hm…” He thought about it for a second as he looked at the flowers Silas pointed out. “I guess those will do. I trust your opinion on this kind of thing.”

A gentle shrug, fingertips moving to brush loose strands of hair from his face as his onyx irises looked over the flower choices again. Silas didn’t exactly know if it was the right choice, though it was nice to know that someone such as Kaan would easily listen to him like that. “This is your realm, not mine,” the incubus quickly retorted, not wanting the full weight of a children’s funeral flower decision on his hands, “Just suggestions— And you are the one that’s going to have to deal with the mother if she thinks she’s not getting her way.” He supposed it could always go the other direction, finding an appreciation for changing the smallest details, but the way the fellow incubus was sounding? Not a chance.

Steven Yeun by Robyn Von Swank (2014)

🌟👀👑

🌟 …someone my muse trusts.

    “Ri has my whole trust forever.”

👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust.

    “Safiye, especially with her recent help though I’m sure if she could find a way to curse me she would.” @safiyebasak

👑 …someone my muse is jealous of.

    “Fran for being just so confidently himself as a cubi.” @franciscoamore

kieratandanu‌:

      “Hand wrapped? What a service.” Kiera smiled as she leaned over the boxes, considering her choice for a moment. Her aunt was an affectionate woman though, and so she quickly made her decision and pointed towards the box with the words on them. “I think I’ll take that one. I think she’ll love it.” She also liked reusing boxes such as this one, so Kiera was happy with her choice as she leaned against the counter. “Do you hand wrap everything you sell?”, she asked curiously, always interested in how other people handled their shops, whether they involved food or not.

“Yes, especially when I know it's a gift,” he replied as his hands fiddled with paper and bubble wrap. The sound made it a bit hard for the cubi’s softer voice to talk over, but managed to get the message across regardless. It was nice to get questioned on his work, even for something as simple as hand wrapping. It meant that someone was interested in more than what they wanted, curious about the workings of others. “You see what I do daily, how about yourself?” charcoal hues were still fixed on the task at hand, but was always interested in how his customer’s lived and their day to day life.