❛  because The World Is So Full Of Death And Horror, I Try Again And Again To Console My Heart And

@ramsesrunihura​

Hadn’t Silas felt that before? That encroaching, hair-raising feeling that had once started in a tiny shop in Andong. One that the incubus had not recognized then, but oh he’d wished he would have realized was the start of this long, immortal journey. Pandemonium. Why Seokga’s grasp was so firm on Korea during those days of tyranny and war, what all of this had done to his family and friends who would never understand that they had never done anything wrong besides exist. So as the sensation grew stronger— bell chiming at the door of Knick Knack, surpassing the portions in Silas that still felt agony about those days began to bubble up. “How-” even if he knew exactly what to say, the words hardly wanted to leave his throat anyway and only moved his onyx hues to capture the moment. The individual that stood before him held different features, sun-kissed skin that didn’t quite match his tempestuous gaze, though the incubus knew deep down was connected to him.

aramayer‌:

The shop had always been on the street, a beacon of chaos and intrigue for any passer by. Ara would often pass it on his way home, it’s niche allure was a temptress and yet Ara always managed to continue on his way with little thought to what lay behind the old doors. On this day however, Ara hadn’t been able to shake its spell. Taking a detour and stepping through the threshold, he was bewitched by the amount of stand out items that seemed to litter the entirety of the shop. The smooth voice drifting from further within the knick knack shop tore him from his enchanted trance, “I – uh. Honestly everything,” his gaze fell from the different antiques and odd ends to meet the eyes of the shop keeper, “you probably get that a lot,” he flashed a smile, “Just thought I’d stop in. It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.” 

A chuckle fell from the shop owners lips and Silas felt humbled once again. He loved watching eyes light up, followed by ‘oo’ and ‘awe’. That was part of the reason he stayed in this line of work, second to the burning passion he had felt from a young age. “Probably not as often as you would think,” his Greek was noticeably choppy, but far enough along that his accent didn’t disrupt the understanding, “Some are afraid to walk-in without a purpose, not wanting to leave without at least a purchase. Others have a need or desire that they are looking for.” His smile continued, charcoal hues falling on the stranger as they took in every inch of the space, “I appreciate the compliments none-the-less. An artist always strives for that and I know the others whose work is displayed would agree.”

🛌 from @kasandrarosales​ take a nap with yours

The only reason Silas knew the days had changed was by the light or darkness he found when his eyes finally opened. Nightmares, regardless of the time the cubi’s eyes finally shut, had been more than brutal and real to the point of needing another to tell him this was reality. Maybe that was why he found himself on Kasandra’s front door — or maybe it had more to do with her actually being able to relate to his issues. As many people as he could got a white lie or two, residual effects of the eidolons and seeing his family like that, though it was truly the emerald scale that ruled every inch of his experiences. He passed the floor of her entryway and tapped again on the door, wondering if his original was too soft out of anxiety of even being here. It had been awhile since he felt close or desperate enough to seek aid in another, suddenly hearing the gentle footsteps of the other checking to see who it was. The creek of the door echoed as Silas turned towards the noise with a half-hearted grin and yearning hues, “I-uh.” Now that the fellow cubi was staring at him, Silas wasn’t sure how to ask but forced his tired brain to make a sentence, “Do you mind if I try to sleep on your couch? I— I would appreciate the help and just discerning what is authentic.”

I like observing people. I like looking at things.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out  (via slytherinwritess)

What are three things necessary to your happiness? Family, honesty and creativity.

giovannixrusso​:

“Would you believe me if I said that’s precisely what I wanted to hear today?” He plays coy with the true reason behind his visit for only a moment longer before settling into natural charm, slightly disconcerted that the other man held a vastly greater allure without actually trying. “White, medium sized, and in an ornate metal holder. The wax has an intricate carving on one side. Does any of that sound familiar?” Fingers brushed at the crux of his neck, an uncharacteristic turmoil overtaking in that moment. As much as Giovanni intended to use Silas for his own knowledge, there came something rather striking about the other man and almost… trustworthy. The sensation struck him as both odd and comforting in the same breath. “If someone wished to pawn it, I thought you might be their first stop.”

Of course it sounded familiar, though Silas was having a hard time actually allowing those words to come out of his mouth. He hadn’t had the chance to really look into it, seeing as it had only been a few days of it being in his possession, and the idea of simply handing it over to Giovanni without a second thought seemed foolish. The incubus knew better than that. Trust was something that came later, with time, and the man that stood before him hadn’t been granted that level as far as Silas was concerned. Stalling, however, wasn’t exactly possible at this moment. What did the cubi care anyway? He had already had his fill of dabbling with cursed objects and the goal had to be who was going to be his highest bidder, “Yeah I’ve got a couple that might fit that description in the back— hadn’t gotten around to placing them out on display yet. Just let me bring them up.”

kaanerdcgan​:

open starter taking place at acanthus mollis @corinthbaystarters

People were interesting most of the time. The way they moved about as if nothing was wrong with the world intrigued him. They were surely blinded by how charming the people that desperately wanted to take advantage of that were. His own boyfriend had been blinded, but he would never lump Elias in with the rest. No, he was one of a kind. Everyone else though? They were just naive. As he walked into the nearby flower shop that happened to be across the street from his funeral parlor, he looked around for a moment before turning to the nearest body. “What flowers do you think a child would want at their funeral. Mother says daisies, but that sounds pretty fucking stupid, doesn’t it?”

Most of the cubi that Silas knew only held some similar qualities to himself, which was fine given the differences between backgrounds and where everyone was from. All older than himself as the line of their kind seemed to diminish over time, making them more and more rare. That’s why he tried to make friends when he discovered they, too, had been changed or crossed the wrong god. “I suppose I understand the color choice— white, innocence and all that,” giving the mother some benefit of doubt, even if Kaan always saw the more cynical side of life, “Those camellia look nice or maybe the freesia?”

beau-zale‌:

“A real professional, huh?” A smirk graced his lips but Beau didn’t take his eyes off the mentioned jewel in the case. He didn’t care so much for authenticity aside from it being something that would last long. Even in his old age he’d never thought to particularly go for something pricey, it was all about the aesthetic. And frankly, he was a sucker for garnets to begin with. Anything deep in color, rubies, moonstone, that kind of thing had always attracted him. The mentioned piece was definitely ticking all of his boxes, there wasn’t much need for this guy to talk it up, he had eyes. But still, he could appreciate an artisan, somebody who knew what they were talking about. Straightening, he crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at the tired looking man. That festival must have really done a number on him, he wasn’t surprised. Everyone seemed a little worse for wear. Which was truly a pity, he was being robbed of so many attractive faces due to lack of sleep.

 Not like that ever really deterred him.

But still.

Supposed he was, though the incubus wasn’t sure if that’s what he would actually call himself. Skilled, maybe. Trained enough to know the difference between a fake and an item that was actually real, letting the word professional hang in the air. Silas almost liked it, only having heard his father’s clients say those kinds of words but never to him. He had always been the apprentice or looked at as a rookie, someone that tried to sell clutter instead of genuine products and worked hard to drive a wedge between that outlook. Instead of boasting, Silas simply shrugged and continued to unlock the case. A click reverberated as the lock came loose and Silas pulled the ring out of the man to examine. It felt as though the two were meant for each other, the same kind of appeal and charm that complimented without seeming gaudy. “Suits you well,” he stated as a fact, a dreamy grin embellishing the dark circles that hung below his charcoal irises as fingertips passed the item over. Noticing the way the man’s eyes lit up as the ring was gently placed onto his finger, the incubus assumed there was no reason to place it back and started to lock up the cabinet again, “As if it was meant to be, so to speak.”

kieratandanu‌:

       “That’s really cool.” It was, even if not everyone would see it that way. Kiera knew people often didn’t pay attention to detail or the work that had been put into gifts or items produced. She did, as it was how she earned her own income, and it put a smile on her lips to watch his hands wrap up the mask with great care. “Me? Oh, I cook. I have a small restaurant down the street. So I can appreciate someone treating their customers nicely a lot,” she smiled.

Only part of Silas was taken aback by her youth and owning her own restaurant, having seen many take over the family trade around her age back home. It just didn’t seem as prevalent in many if the European regions and it excited him, though his expression hardly showed it. Clearly this woman knew how to hustle, a quality he admired and reminded him of his sister. “Kiki’s?” the cubi asked, having seen it a few times during his walks into the store but had never stopped in.

🔥💀👻💘

🔥…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