Soft Affection

leightonhaywood‌:

“Interesting line of work.” Useful, probably lucrative considering how full of supernaturals the bay was. Leighton took another sip of his tea as he thought back to his London flat. He really didn’t have anything “magical” aside from maybe a few books about healing magic. Which were kind of pointless, but he liked them anyways. It’s not like he had anything against magic, he was sure if he found something that interested him enough, he’d get it. He’d just never bothered searching for anything. 

“What do you find around here usually?” There were a lot of historical sites, local artisans and such, but he was curious. Corinth was a hub for the supernatural for a reason, surely it was brimming with magical things all over the place. Maybe that was something he should be looking into. “Solely speaking as someone with not much interest in such things.”

“A lot of jewelry,” the cubi started, placing his mind on several gold and copper pieces that had been enchanted for different purposes. As he had learned more about the supernatural world after his transition, Silas realized how much power was in the objects that dangled around everyone’s necks. Charm spells, anointed in magical oils, various stones that could even make a mere human more fortunate and those were the hot ticket items. The only thing that was truly different was the details or the style, which varied from different regions and forged with a contrast of items. “Masks, coins— bronze trinkets. Some of them just seem like completely ordinary things sitting on your grandmother’s hearth, but actually help find magical ingredients. Kind of like a metal detector,” a smile holding, clearly speaking from experience and still enjoyed talking with the client that took it in. An older gentleman whose eyes were not as good as his younger years and paid Silas a little extra just for being polite. “Though the objects I find are just as interesting as the people that seek them, in my experience,” his usual tone, but with a sour punch at the end that the cubi couldn’t quite control. He saw many different types, not just the good side where people cherished the object and it sat on a shelf. No, some lusted for darkness in a way that Silas had never seen— even at war.

Steven Yeun by Robyn Von Swank (2014)

🔥💀👻💘

🔥…someone my muse would die for.

    “My sister, my friends and acquaintances, maybe even just for the greater good of humanity.”

💀 …someone my muse would kill for.

    “Same as above, though I don’t really enjoy killing.”

👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend.

    “I don’t truly have a best friend, but I do enjoy Gabriel’s company when he’s not grouchy and putting too much weight on his shoulders.” @gabrielxnikephoros

💘 …someone my muse has a crush on.

    “Richard, but I’m painfully aware that that’s a bad idea.” @richiesteele

leightonhaywood‌:

“Silas?” He’d thought that was the shopkeep who’d passed him earlier, he’d been too busy reading to pay it much thought. The park wasn’t really a park, just a nice spot in public and every so often it was better than taking up space in the coffee shops. He’d tried to avoid them as of late anyways, after the whole ghost incident. Not ghosts, Eidolons, that’s what people were calling them. They were gone now, thanks to the Delphi coven, thanks to the Argos pack. 

If the other had heard him, he hadn’t mustered any form of response, still was making his way to the bench and Leighton followed after him, book tucked back into the bag haphazardly slung over his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, it was no wonder Silas hadn’t paid him much mind. There was an almost vacant look to him, bags beneath his eyes. There was no sign of his usual cheery self, no sign of that almost playful friendly nature. “Si, I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like shit.” Brow furrowed, he stopped in front of the other and crossed his arms over his chest. It felt like he was scolding him, and maybe in a way, he was. But he was far more concerned than anything. 

If his name was being called, Silas wasn’t fully aware of it. Completely consumed by thoughts that all linked themselves to the item he carried close to him and kept walking. He knew better than to assume that the scale would just stop holding onto his curse without some kind of intervention, but the cubi allowing someone to examine it was the furthest thing from his mind. No one else was going to touch it, that was the whole point of him continuing to take the burden on. The whole reason for it still being heavy inside his pocket, the chill of the bench sending shivers up his spine as he took a seat. It wasn’t until then that Silas noticed the creased expression on his friends face and that the incubus was anything but alone. A daze had taken him, charcoal hues showing no signs of cylinders firing and Silas blinked a few times while Leighton’s words sunk in. ‘You look like shit,’ echoed in his brain and all the cubi could do was nod in agreement. He knew he did. “Not rude in the slightest. I do look like shit, don’t I,” words came out slow, as if each one was difficult to pronounce and for a moment he had to make sure they weren’t in Korean, “Haven’t been sleeping very well.” As if that wasn’t apparent, but going into it much further than that didn’t seem right when he hadn’t been asked. Last thing he wanted was to distress the vampire anymore than he already looked.

This didn’t exist when I was a kid. I didn’t get to see Glenn. I didn’t get to see a fully formed Asian-American person on my television, where you could say, “That dude just belongs here.” Kids, growing up now, can see this show and see a face that they recognize. And go, “Oh my god. That’s my face too.

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

No deleting questions, either!

“You wore your gentleness so well.”

— six word story // hobnobbingwithhedgehogs (via just-six)

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​

gabrielxnikephoros‌:

Gabriel waited not so patiently for Silas to hold good on his promise. And as soon as the other incubus exited the store, Gabriel was beside him in a second, “Fucking finally. Now come on. You distract the barista. She’s cute, kinda young for you though. She goes to the college down the road a bit. Don’t get any ideas,” he put his arm around Silas’ shoulders, steering him towards Tranquilitea first. “Then…when I get all their packaged teas, we’ll go to the other one. Switch it up, and watch the madness ensue.”

Eyebrows furrowed slightly at the idea of getting ideas when it came to a college student. If anything, she would accidentally become his meal at any given local bar but the cubi often tried to make sure they weren’t too local. The last thing he needed was for someone to remember his face vividly and want to keep any kind of relation going. “Is that really all we are doing?” a laugh fell from his lips before locking up the shop and walking with the fellow cubi, “Just mixing up tea and watching barista’s swear they made that person a chai latte?”