In The End, Always Laugh. And Do Not Lose This Strange Habit Of Having Faith In Life.

30 Greek Mythology Headcanons

❛  because the world is so full of death and horror, i try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

@silaskyun​ happy birthday loveeeeee 

celiezmorgan‌:

@silaskyun​ location: knick knack

It wasn’t really like Celie to go to gift shops, but this one seemed to cute to pass up. She had been trying to scope out every store in the city just to see what she could learn from being there. The little bell on the door rang as Celie stepped in, and she gave the owner a little wave. There was nothing right off the bat, but there was always time to learn. As the hunter toured the small room, she couldn’t help but smile. “This place is really cute.”

The storefront hadn’t been open for too long, so it was always a surprise whenever someone actually decided to mosey in. It gave Silas the chance to show off local artists and hopefully get a few other pieces out the door with the interactions. Trinkets, masks, custom furniture littered every inch of the shop, yet all had its own unique location. Micro-environments set up to give a different feel depending on the spot stood in and nothing seemed too lost in the madness. Some days he would take out pieces and re-display them later in the season if he noticed there weren’t any bites, a fun habit Silas started when the thought of eternity really set in. “I appreciate it,” a small grin and delicate head nod as arms found a home on the counter-top, “and so do the other artists.”

gabrielxnikephoros‌:

Gabriel had made his way around the store to stand by Silas finally, tilting his head a little bit more at the snark that exited his friend’s mouth. The other incubus was soft; a kinder spirit than Gabriel had ever met in his entire existence. And that existence was being reminded to him, again. “Oh, so he’s got jokes.” Gabriel huffed out a laugh, shoving Silas lightly, “Unbelievable. I offer you my friendship, my wisdom with all my age, and you just – throw it back at me. Forget it. I’m going to steal the tea recipes and then I’m going to blame you.”

“Alright, see you in about thirty minutes,” the fellow cubi kept the smirk firmly planted on his face as Gabriel attempted to psych him out. Silas wasn’t exactly sure if he really needed another with him in order to do the deed, but assumed another set of hands was probably necessary. Either that or another set of eyes. Regardless, he was involved now for better or worse. “Maybe you can support the bookstore across the street while you wait. I’m sure there is something you haven’t seen yet.”

I like observing people. I like looking at things.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out  (via slytherinwritess)

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.

atlasxrose‌:

@silaskyun​

Atlas sat pondering the vision he’d had the night of the murder, the woman with dark hair and dark eyes, the green scales that had trailed up and down her arms. The onslaught of spirits that had besieged the town, if there was no way of saving her that night, then why had the Gods sent him a vision of her entering the Temple? He wondered what use it all was, questioning things that he could quite clearly not control. The witch had wandered into a shop, doing what he could to distract himself when he saw the man standing not far from him now. 

Atlas wasn’t sure why his intuition had brought him here, but Scylla had been at the forefront of his thoughts so the witch just spat the question out. “Hey, this might seem like a weird question but you haven’t seen a woman come in here in the last few days have you? - Uh, dark hair, dark eyes?” This was Corinth, Atlas had just described probably the majority of the female population. “I don’t know… She was a bit unique.” Scaled, for instance. “You’d remember her.”

A single eyebrow arose on Silas’s face at the question. It wasn’t as if there were a lot of people that came into his shop, but the list had already risen up to at least a dozen and the cubi wasn’t sure how to respond. The man before him looked flustered, words sounding a bit desperate and all Silas could do was give him a shrug. “Yeah, I mean—” the right words needed to be chosen in order to get more information from the stranger, “A few, but maybe you can give me a little more detail? Was she wearing something specific?”

Though through all the chatting, he couldn’t keep his mind off the scale in his pocket as if it was burning a hole. The cubi wanted to touch it, place his calloused hands upon the smooth emerald finish just to ensure it was still resting there. But if he went for it now, there was no way he wouldn’t seem suspicious and he begged his mind to stop thinking about it. “Maybe even a specific piece of jewelry?” which would have been something Silas had actually noticed given his line of work. Unique pieces to the mass-market objects, he enjoyed seeing what was on trend and being purchased.

Life with the jade and emerald tinted object had been torturous, yet Silas couldn’t manage to let it go. A week had gone by with him knowing there was something wrong with it, some curse that had been placed, and the cubi still couldn’t manage to keep his fingers from glazing over its sheen. Studying its ridges as it played with the dim lights inside the back of his shop. Even started carrying it around, terrified that someone else might take it. He continually told himself that if it wasn’t him taking the burden on, that it would be someone else but Silas knew it was just an act to keep it close to himself. Anyone that caught eye of the scale immediately induced panic within his being, so his pant pocket was the only logical place for it to stay until he understood more. It wasn’t as if he knew its origins completely, just some various lore from the library and anything Kasandra could explain given her similar condition. Sleep had been replaced with nightmares and late-night walks, muse for anything artistic all but lost when the hour was so late that he felt his shop walls closing in on him. That’s precisely where the cubi was now, feet patting up and down the sidewalks of town with eye bags that could be seen from at least a block away. ‘This cannot last,’ bubbled in his thoughts as the silhouette of a public bench came near and he instinctively headed towards it, ‘Go-saeng kkeut-e nag-i on-da*.’

@leightonhaywood​

kieratandanu​:

for @silaskyun​.

     “You look like you need something to eat.” Kiera’s feet hurt from standing in her pride boots all day, and as the streets had lightened up a little, she had decided to take a break by taking a seat on the counter of her booth, legs dangling in the air as she presented a plate with rainbow colored cupcakes to anyone who passed. She’d recognized the man from the shop she bought a mask for her aunt from not too long ago, and pointed her free hand at him with a wide smile on her face. Most importantly, he looked like he deserved to have some fun, and she’d always argue that it was easiest achieved with some good food. “I’ll give you a free taste test if you want. There’s nothing better than some rainbows in your stomach at pride.”

The witch that ran Kiki’s was easily one of his favorite individuals in town, admiring that even at such a young age she could carry all that weight and still place a smile on her face. “I could always use something to eat,” charcoal irises landing on the cupcakes in her hand, an array of colors being presented and sparkling details, “And rainbow cake always hits the plot.” Feet gently made their way over, fingertips reaching for one that displayed a light blue frosting with what looked to be a rainbow sour gummy on top. A childlike expression found its way on his face as he shoved a large bite into his mouth, eyes gently closing with delight and Silas had to stop himself from chatting with his mouth full. “I couldn’t possibly take anything from you for free,” he finally stated, frosting still along the creases and on his cheeks, “How much are they?”