Leightonhaywood‌:

🔪

🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past.

    “I don’t know his name, I just know that my hunger was so strong and ravenous that I couldn’t help myself in that moment. It was the first and last time I completely fed, now trying my best to never feed on the same creature.”

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​

reapersoriano​:

Pride had finally started winding down and he was about ready to take off any and all of his clothes just so he could go shower. He was sure a drink had been spilled on him at some point and he wanted out of it as soon as possible. As he took off one of the beaded necklaces that had been thrown around his neck, he was interrupted by some person walking up to him. Normally, Angel was ready to ignore and keep it moving, but he wasn’t going to do that this time. The least he could do was enjoy the end of this whole thing to the best of his ability. “Oh, sure go ahead.” He wasn’t even sure what he should do so he kind of just stood there continuing to handle the beads. Slowly wrapping it around his wrist, he looked back up at the other man. “I assume you’re also enjoying yourself?”

He had felt this before, that mustering of something dark within an individual and tried to place where or who it might have been with. It was brief, the incubus remembered, and still hadn’t been able to figure out what exactly was underneath the skin. That was happening a lot more as of late and the man that stood before him was no different, though Silas’ usual friendly grin tugged at the edges of his lips as he adjusted his camera to snap a picture. “I did,” the camera blocked most of his face now as he looked through the lens, positioning it just right and admiring how casual the moment became, “In my own way.” Just like everyone who had placed themselves at the event, each having their own experiences and he was excited to share with his sister how it all went. But that curiosity pulled at him more— what exactly was this man? Who’s— and then it struck him. The man that visited him in his shop months prior, purchased a ring, but Silas couldn’t place his name at this time. Only the feeling. “Got plans after this?” he asked in an attempt to get him to lingerie longer, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

kieratandanu‌:

       “Okay.” Her eyes looked down at the blue tinted one once more, and when he posed his question, she realized that he was right. It was the one her aunt would probably never pick for herself, and therefore the perfect gift. “You’re right, she wouldn’t. That’s a great idea. I’ll take the blue one then. Do you possibly have a box it can fit in as well?”

Gentle head nods fell from the cubi as he pulled the mask towards himself. Silas was sure he had the right gift wrap for this particular style, getting out two sleek black boxes. One had a gold tint in the writing, embossed with the words ‘with love’ in the center. The other was similar with silver instead of the gold, but held no words and displayed an abstract geometric pattern. “Take your pick and I’ll hand wrap it for you,” warm words fell from his lips, happy that the mask was going to go into a wonderful home.

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?”

🛌 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.”

Months had gone by without a single trace, causing Silas to wonder if the object existed in the first place. Rumors and hanging onto belief that his client was right in her pursuit grew difficult, but Safiye insisted on his continued search. The cubi listened without attaching too much thought. It was never any of his business why certain items needed to be obtained and simply accepted that if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else. Which led him down a path that he hadn’t quite expected this time and talking to individuals from many different walks of life. Originally the necklace was traced back to Gascony, a region in France that was ruled by the English Crown during the 14th century. Once the witch trials had started, however, many of the possessions in the area were lost or obliterated. Finding anything during that period of destruction was next to impossible, but not completely. “Hey, it’s Silas at Knick Knack. I think I found it,” he stated calmly on her voicemail as charcoal hues continued to examine the detail of the brass and condition of its embedded stones. It was as if it was brand new, glass still in perfect condition and hung by the original chain. Though the cubi knew after over fifty years of experience that items like this are not always what they seem.

@safiyebasak​

Over time, Silas had gotten used to forgetting a day or two from the past. Memory had this oddness about it that could be fleeting or become twisted and he had noticed this gradually as the years passed on. That’s what his journaling had been for, a habit that started during the war and only continued as things worsened in his home country. But this was and felt so different. Sure a day would go by that might be less than eventful, causing the cubi to pause at the memory of the day or two before— but the day was gone. Not just little cracks of what happened, completely wiped from existence. All he had was the various notes he had written later that night about the oddity and curiosity of what he had seen that night. However, none of it made sense and Silas couldn’t even draw out the connection. When his mind would try to dig it out, it was as though a dark blank was placed there instead.

Tapping lightly on the end of his pen, Silas sat puzzled on a bench outside his shop. The sign currently read closed as he grappled with the situation. As if the memory wasn’t hard enough for him, the damn Eidolon’s wouldn’t let him be. They were trying their hardest to chip away at him, but his attentions had been in so many different places that seeing his dead relatives had been the last of his concerns. The scale and the journal entry was driving the cubi madder than any Eidolon could. Even the fact that his sister wasn’t present in his hauntings didn’t phase him, a detail that wouldn’t have usually gone past the young cubi and instead the emerald shimmer flooded his thoughts. He shuffled it through his fingers tips, eyes locked and entranced while the world around him seemed to keep beating. How could he have possibly noticed the shadow of a man coming towards his direction?

@maddcxaquinc​

🌟👀👑

🌟 …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

So— he hadn’t seen her since the festival. Unusual given the fact that before that, Silas had spent much of his time wandering into the tea shop where she worked. Lately, however, he actively made the choice to go inside the doors of their competition and hadn’t fully pinned down exactly why. Maybe it was because it all felt too different, they had seen each other outside of a work setting and could no longer call Ophelia just an acquaintance. His mind drifting towards the curiosity of how she might be doing and if she had, at all, noticed his absence. Not exactly a thought that he wanted to be caught in, but their little game of chess was intriguing and Silas couldn’t ignore the allure of the rootless ground. That’s why he found himself inside again, sitting at an antique table that was probably older than he was now and nursing a lukewarm tea. “How are you settling in?” he asked, filling the air with something other than the lingering silence between them.

@opheliancano​