#| Nature's Keeper - Jacob

[atallephoculary]

Days like these were known to be particularly slow with the rain coming down in sheets, the wind tossing the trees gently along the skyline visible from her dirty office window, the lull of typing from the other office, and the pattering of water along the tin roof. It was enough to almost put someone to sleep, but the semi-newly appointed Deputy Sheriff Marion had more than several stacked reports due, and trying to finish them was seemingly a daunting task in and of itself. She despised paperwork- and sometimes it was unfortunately reflected in her work with sloppy signatures and hastily scribbled notes. Nobody was perfect, right?  Thumbing over a few different pages, she soon tosses the stack that was in her hands onto the worn desk with an exasperated sigh and a quick pinch of the ridge of her nose, eyes screwing shut as that sigh sharpens into a groan. The wet scent of dirt and the humid air was forbidding and reminded her of home perhaps a little bit too much. What a miserable day, right? And to think she had plans to barbecue tonight, that wasn't happening. Even with everything happening in Hope County, she still found ways to throw herself a pity party. People were dying, being maimed and tortured and killed and skinned alive and left as roadkill- and here she was, quietly bitching to herself about the fact she'd have to grab something else. 

Settling back into her chair and humming, Marion makes quick work of tidying up her messy black hair into a clip and stares fruitlessly out the window- shit. Though, she was looking forward to those steaks. The wooden chair that probably had been in this building since the 70s creaks gently under her weight as she rocks back and forth- as far as the old lacquered mess would allow her. Hope County could have been a wonderful place to live if it weren't for this supposed cult. A quaint community tucked away in the mountains and the valleys that hugged it were just as beautiful as their older and greater counterparts. A truly magnificent place to be if you were sitting with the cool kids, so to speak. Earl had never spoken fondly of Eden's Gate, and she knew it was because of this outlandishly fucked up shit they as a whole were pulling, but there was something deep in her bones that couldn't help but resonate with the message...  Maybe it was being born in Louisiana and being run over the coals with televangelism and billboards streaming for miles preaching about Jesus and how he alone is the path to salvation, how the church was the one to intervene in her youth with the abuse and yet held the hand of the abuser to further the agenda. It was all very confusing to her growing up.   Everything, she thought, would tell itself in time-- but time was a cruel mistress and she was impatient. The wind picks up outside, howling past the trees and picking up debris in its wake- a trashcan falling over unceremoniously outside the window made her jump slightly and shake her head-- However... The unmistakable electronic *Ding* from the front of the building hovers in the air, the door closing back up the vacuum bubble that was the Sherriff's office...  Something in the air changes, and Marion finds herself straightening in her seat and turning back to the desk- trying to make herself look busy and not like she's just idling. Heavy boot steps echo down the short hallway, and soon there is a hand attaching itself to the brass knob on her office door, and its screaming hinges gave way to a stranger.

When the man entered, her whole body felt like it had taken a screenshot. There was a cause of the sudden shift in the building's air. 

Almost instinctively, Marion reaches out and firmly shakes his hand; He has a remarkable grip, and remarkable scars- a remarkable look about him altogether, however, she keeps herself steady and nods, a slightly concerned smile wavering over her cleft features. "Oh, so you're the guy huh? Nice to meetcha', Jacob. Not gonna lie, I'm not used to having a welcomin' party, but I appreciate it... Also not sure how my boss is gonna feel either, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, yeah?" Her swampy drawl hangs heavy in the air like the humidity on their skin, it could tell a million stories of bayou dreams and warm your bones like bourbon. "...I gotta know, though... Why come on out here to say hello? Couldn't possibly be southern hospitality~" Marion laughs- it's all in good fun, she feels safe in her office, whether or not this bear of a man was in the vicinity. She was seemingly taking her chances, willing to gamble on the interaction that just decided to pop up like a fresh spring daisy.

DESTINY

[ a lil starter for @atallephoculary ]

In the Montana mountains, a rainy morning paints the landscape in shades of gray and green. Mist flowing in the rugged peaks as raindrops dance off the pine leaves, creating a soothing symphony. Puddles form, reflecting the dreary sky, while streams began to flow from the rocks with newfound vigor across the roadways, mud puddles just awaiting a victim to step in them. Despite the downpour, there's an undeniable beauty, a resilience that defines mountain life. It was normal for the eldest Seed brother to rise earlier than the sun and commence his duties.

In the quiet solitude of his mountain home, Jacob stirred reluctantly from his sleep. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly opened his eyes, greeted not by the warmth of the sun, but by the dim light filtering through the clouded sky. Echoes of gunfire and the distant rumble of explosions seemed to reverberate in the stillness of the morning, a haunting reminder of the past he could never fully escape.

Pulling himself from the embrace of his bed, Jacob moved with a stiffness bred from old injuries and unspoken traumas. The familiar ache in his bones served as a constant reminder of the price he had paid for his years of service, not to mention the scarred tissue to add insult to the injury. With each step, he traversed the familiar terrain of his home, the solitude of the mountains offering both solace and isolation. Outside, the world awaited, but within the confines of his sanctuary, Jacob found himself reluctant to face the day ahead, for him, waking up was not a cause for celebration, but rather a reminder of the battles he still fought within himself. Yet, somehow he managed to pull himself up every day to heed the wishes of his beloved brother and prophet Joseph, something he would be grateful for, a purpose.

After a cup of coffee in the quiet of his kitchen, he then decided to check his phone. It was a text from a few of the cultists who had done reconnaissance on the police station, it would seem the new deputy sheriff was settled in nicely. A clank of his coffee mug on the marble countertop, he slid it aside as he stood and grabbed his coat. It was about time he was able to put a name to the face, there had been rumors of her. tenacious, stubborn and allegedly scary, which only intrigued him that much more. Puddled mud splashed around Jacob’s military boots, the sludging trail to his truck wasn’t unfamiliar to him and given the circumstances he had been through in life, mud was hardly as appalling to him as most.

The drive was calming, the pitter patter of raindrops beaming against his windshield in different directions as he picked up speed. There was a surrealness to driving in the rain, something he always looked forward to when it came to spring. It was easy to get lost in it, which made the drive the drive seem shorter than it was, and now he arrived at the sheriff station. Usually, when it would rain, a normal person would park close to the building but… Jacob didn’t. instead, he parked in the corner of the lot and began his walk to the main entrance. Each raindrop felt like heaven, the heat however was only threatening humidity. With each step, the puddles splashed under the power of his weight against the concrete, the water rinsing his previously mudded boots that now left a sleek shine, almost as if they were new but from the scuffs it was clear they’d been abused.

The door swung open briefly to allow him to step in, a cautious gaze around the office told him that it was a slow day, but without breaking his stride, he began to walk further into the building while whipping both of his hands at the wrist to rid it of stray water droplets. “I’m looking for Marion Fuller.” When he spoke, each word reverberated with richness and depth, carrying a weight that demanded attention, which he got. It wasn’t uncommon for the locals to shake like leaves when it came to Jacob, in the dim light of the room, the intimidating figure stood like a colossus, but it wasn't just his physical presence that was made them look away; it was the faint yet unmistakable burn scars that marred a quarter of his face, trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. They spoke of a past marked by fire and pain, leaving behind a haunting reminder of battles fought and wounds endured. The secretary, who Jacob had stood before gestured to the door he would need to go through, the shakiness in her hand only caused a faint smile to appear beneath his scruffy beard.

The sound of his footsteps thundered through the seemingly quiet building, it was eerily quiet but of course it was early and there wasn’t too much noise. The door however, seemed to creak open so painfully loud that a wince formed on his face as he stepped through. His eyes landed on the deputy, which he was shocked she wasn’t older. “huh” he slipped out.

Most criminals would be shaken by standing in front of authority, but Jacob stood mere feet away from the newly appointed sheriff deputy unphased and seemingly confrontational, however he instead offered his hand. “Miss Fuller, my name is Jacob Seed. I’d like to formally introduce myself and let you know that as head of security for Eden’s Gate, if you need anything, I’m the one to come to.” Although innocent enough, there's a coldness to his tone, a calculated precision that leaves no doubt as to the subtly of his threat if it were to be looked for. It's the voice of someone who knows how to wield intimidation, using it to instill fear and assert dominance without needing to raise his voice.

[beanlet-boi]

I got bored, so uh

Isaac's "personas" and what I feel they represent:

Isaac - Isaac

Magdalene - Isaac's feminine side, along with his love and desire to *be* loved.

Cain - Isaac's own (percieved) selfishness and jealousy

Judas - Isaac sees himself as a betrayer, likely because of his fondness for his father and his *very* mixed feelings of his mother

??? - Dead Isaac

Eve - Isaac's personification of his desires of self-harm

Samson - Anger, wrath, violence, destruction

Azazel - Isaac's inner demon, he believes it's his true nature

Lazarus - His desire to die

Eden - Chaotic, random, and in Tainted form, even unstable and glitchy. Isaac's perception of himself as someone who shouldn't exist.

Lost - Dead Isaac 2

Lilith - Isaac's internalization of his impact on his mother's life. After all, Lilith is the mother of a demon (at least in game)

Keeper - Greed, constant desire or need for more. It's present in more or less everyone, although to varying extents

Apollyon - Isaac's hopelessness, his state as a vessel for the void of his depression. Perhaps also his belief that he destroys everything around him, like his own family

The Forgotten - Dead Isaac 3 and 4

Bethany - Isaac's unwavering faith, and his hope that maybe God will look kindly upon him

Jacob and Esau - Probably the biggest stretch, but maybe Isaac sees himself as *both* brothers: Jacob, who convinced Esau to sell his birthright to him for a stew, and Esau, the manipulated, deceived, and wrathful. Potentially his own inner turmoil, the very reason both Bethany and Azazel can exist, personified within the same child.

[helenadurazzo]

A Wonderful World of Color

Ended up being able to throw together a new story just in time for the HPHM Ship Weekend. For this, I took the prompt of the Soulmate AU. In this universe, before a person makes eye contact with their soulmate, the world is coated in shades of grey. Normally, people know who their soulmate is right away, yet not for Helena.

Helena often wondered what the world would look like if it was in color. Oftentimes the world seemed rather drab with it being drowned in shades of grey. The world was how it was though and as many people said, fate would be the determining factor in if the world would erupt in color for you or not. And sometimes Helena figured that her time would never come.

Mum never really talked about soulmates, saying that she had never met hers like father. Yet while Dad certainly never met the person he was meant for, she knew his words were genuine even though he did find happiness in what he was able to get. Yet Mum was a whole other story, sometimes Helena would hear her stumble her words and wondered if she could indeed see the world in color like those who had met their soulmate. She supposed it would be proper for a person with a passion for herbology and nature would be able to see in color, yet Helena never pushed to uncover her Mum’s past. Perhaps that day when she met Dad in that coffee shop she figured a life with someone was better if she could not be with her own soulmate. Yet in such situations, it was wise to not tread on such sensitive subjects. Helena wished she could ask Jacob for advice yet he was still missing, and Helena thought lingered on him endlessly. At least she had her peers and the joys that being a student at Hogwarts had to offer, it was the only way to keep her mind off of the cursed vaults after all.

She supposed Hogwarts was a common place for soulmates to meet, possibly one of the most common places to do so in the country. Yet between herself, Rowan, Tulip, and Badeea, only Badeea was the one who was able to see in color, when she and Talbott discovering they were soulmates not too long into the school year yet while they both did spend a lot of time together both decided to revisit that topic later. She would describe in great detail the colors of her paintings that it almost felt like Helena could indeed see their vibrancy. And Tulip had started making bets of which out of the three of them would meet their soulmate next.

But for now a quidditch game between Slytherin and Ravenclaw would do plenty to keep her and her roommates occupied without focusing on something that perhaps they could never find. Helena watched the match intently, after all, it was hard to tell the differences of who was who on the team as without seeing colors, it was a challenge, yet Badeea always provides more personal commentary and answers to questions that Murphy simply couldn’t provide from his seat in the highest place as the commentator.

“The Slytherins are on their game this year.” Tulip remarked as the players flew around on their brooms at top speeds.

“Certainly.” Rowan nodded, cheering as Skye Parkin, a Ravenclaw the year above them who hailed from the famous Parkin Family who founded the Wigtown Wanderers, successfully threw a quaffle that evaded Slytherin’s keeper. “Perhaps this will be the year for Ravenclaw.”

“I hope no one gets hurt in this match, Slytherin players can be quite aggressive, especially that Erika Rath.” Helena noted, knowing if one of the chasers was injured, she would be brought onto the pitch. Normally it would be a chance to gain great honor, yet Helena pondered how she would react when she was on the pitch playing for a crowd with people in the supposedly the colors of each house judging by the shades of grey and matching facepaint.

When she turned her head away from her friends and back to pitch her eyes widened at the sight ahead of her with surprise as a bludger rushed straight towards her face. She instinctively ducked and was lucky the bludger did not hit her in the head, since she would have likely been knocked out and would have woken up in the hospital wing. Yet when she got the courage to look back at the pitch, her eyes met one of the other players. The sudden burst of unexpected color in the world made her feel so entranced by those blue eyes, similar to her own yet with a slight more hint of green perhaps? Maybe it was teal? Before she could once more gain her senses whichever quidditch player that was had flown off to another area of the pitch and was gone. However, there was one thing Helena was sure of, that mystery quidditch player was her soulmate, they had to be.

“Helena are you ok?” Rowan panicked, adjusting her glasses as they went down her nose due to the sudden turn of her head. “That bludger nearly knocked you into next week!”

“I… I can see…” Helena stammered as she looked out to the pitch. Observing the quidditch players in dark blue and emerald green flying back and forth depending on where the quidditch balls were and carefully evading bludgers with swift movements. On the other side of the stands, everyone was dressed in similar shades of the two colors, it was bright and radiant, “Colors, its… it’s really something…”

“Congratulations!” Badeea cheered before noticing what was like an uncertain look on Helena’s own face, “Sorry, I guess it’s not the best time…”

“No you’re fine.” Helena softly smiled at her friend.

“So who’s the lucky quidditch player who you are destined to be with?” Tulip smirked, “It’s got to be a quidditch player who is your soulmate right?”

“I… I don’t know.” Helena confessed, still catching her breath. “I only saw their eyes due to that bludger. They were a bluish green.”

“I know I don’t know any of the quidditch players, much less their eye colors.” Tulip noted, “but that isn’t a lot to go off of. Yet I suppose we can take off Orion and Skye off of the possibilities, not only have you talked with both of them but the eye colors don’t match.”

“Now that you mention that.” Helena realized, “Unless they put in a rookie or a substitute I have met all of the people on the Ravenclaw team. If my soulmate was one of them I should have known that by now.”

“So your soulmate must be a Slytherin.” Badeea concluded, “Perhaps they’ll come to you, surely they are also wondering the same things you are.”

“They would probably have more trouble figuring that out than Helena does.” Rowan pointed out. “Where Helena has seven Slytherin Quidditch players it could be, this quidditch player has anyone in the general vicinity of us.”

“Let’s just enjoy the rest of the match.” Helena insisted to her friends, “It’s fine, don’t worry about me, if we are soulmates surely our paths will cross again, or the universe will give me a sign to who it is.”

•••••••••••••••••

Even being at home for the weekend could not quell Helena’s perplexing feelings. She supposed it was nice to see her mother again, she just thought she would have more than a week before she would have to deal with the possibility of telling her mother. She didn’t even know how to bring it up. And knowing her mother, it was only a matter of time before the conversation would finally come up. If only her father wasn’t on a business trip and her brother wasn’t who knows where, perhaps they could have helped easy the tension her brain insisted was there

“Helena, dear, you have hardly touched your food.” Her mother observed much sooner than Helena planned, “Is everything alright?”

“I am fine Mum.” She attempted to give her a reassuring smile. “I… I guess I have just been thinking… about someon- thing! Thinking about something” she cringed at her stumbling of words, there went her attempt at surviving this break from school without her mother finding out what happened at that fateful quidditch match. Her face likely looked even more like she was hiding something, and her mother was able to read that like a book.

“Sweetie.” Her mum softly eyed her with concern, “You know you can tell me what’s going on.”

Helena sighed, “I’m sorry… I guess I was just worried about bringing it up. It’s just… back at that quidditch game… I saw colors for the first time and-“

“You met your soulmate?” Her mother’s eyes widened and brightened with happiness that nearly startled Helena due to its suddenness, “That’s wonderful!”

“That’s the thing…” Helena awkwardly continued her previous statement, “I would not say I have ‘met’ them. What happened was I was nearly hit in the face by a bludger, don’t worry, I avoided it. But when I looked to see where it came from, I met eyes with one of the Slytherin quidditch players and the next thing I could know I could see color and that quidditch player was somewhere on the other side of the quidditch pitch.”

“I see…” Her mother breathed, looking as if she was thinking about something.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Helena apologized, “I wanted to tell you, I need to talk with someone other than my roommates at some point. I just… didn’t know how you would react. You were never really open about it before…”

“I suppose I haven’t.” Her mother agreed quickly rather than denying her flaws, “I apologize if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about that. I guess I just let my own experience take control, but I suppose I should tell you the story. Might be a bit of a tangent but you’ll get the point I promise.” Her mother sighed, “I was one of the ones who saw colors early on, back in my first year of Hogwarts. My father, your grandfather, had sent me a howler that day, furious that I was sorted into Hufflepuff rather than Slytherin. One of my classmates, a Ravenclaw, approached me to see if I was alright and we connected the dots after the world burst into color before our eyes. He was my closest friend, yet I knew my fate. I was a pure blood where he was not, and my father already had very little patience. I was… scared of what he would say. So many pure bloods ignore the soulmates for the sake of preserving social status, and I knew my parents would be the same way. So before our graduation, I ended things with him out of fear and we never crossed paths since. A few years later I took charge in my life when I met your father and found another form of happiness.” Her mother’s bright blue eyes moved back towards looking at Helena. “All of this is to say, I don’t want you to lose your soulmate because of what others may think, including myself and your father. You know better than any one of what makes you happy. Don’t let your chance at love slip through your fingers.”

Helena gave a small smile after a few moments of silence to let her mother’s words sink in, “Thanks Mum. I just need to figure out who it is first…”

•••••••••••••••••

Another week of classes had passed and Helena found herself once again at another weekend. Yet unlike the previous one where she spent it with the comfort of her mother’s company, this one would be spent at Hogwarts. And that certainly wasn’t a bad thing but just something that left Helena once again at the mercy of her own thoughts.

It was why Helena did what she always did when she was stuck in her own thoughts and needed some time to reflect, going outside. Breathing in the fresh air always seemed to alleviate any stress she had, and even this particular flurry of thoughts of hers seemed to lessen even if only slightly. Being the daughter of a renowned herbologist, it had always been natural for Helena, who spent a large amount of her childhood in the greenhouse. Of course, even she felt some variety was necessary and found herself heading to the training grounds when the flying classes would be hosted and the quidditch pitch was in sight.

In the distance, she could even see some quidditch players participating in a friendly match. It seems to be Gryffindor and Hufflepuff judging by the ruby red and golden uniforms, so she didn’t feel pressured in walking all the way over there. If she was to figure out who her soulmate was, she would need to figure out more about the Slytherins who were a part of that match that fateful day. She didn’t even think about talking to Skye or Orion but it likely wasn’t worth it. Orion would likely give her some philosophical riddle she was not in the mood to solve while Skye would simply insult the competition rather than enlighten her on who her soulmate could have been. Perhaps her soulmate would come to her, but it seemed unlikely, it had been a couple of weeks since then after all.

As she walked along one of the dirt paths, she found herself turning her head to the right and noticing a blonde Slytherin practicing on the training grounds. She had heard from Penny enough about the Slytherin’s reputation to know it was Slytherin’s star beater, Erika Rath, who practiced non-stop whenever she wasn’t on the pitch or keeping up her marks in her classes. Perhaps she was better with Skye and other quidditch players in that regard as many neglected their studies for the sake of quidditch.

Erika looked so intensely focused on the training dummies as she swung her beater’s bat with all her might and watched with satisfaction as the bludger managed to knock each of the dummies down one by one. Helena pitied the chasers who opposed her and supposed she was thankful that she had not found herself in such a position. Skye had always talked about Erika Rath in the worst light, saying that she used her brash actions on purpose and desired to cause harm to express her own prowess. Helena pondered how much of that was true, for what she did know, Erika appeared to be a bit of a loner, simply keeping casual acquaintances with her peers and teammates.

Before Helena knew it, she watched as Erika looked over the sight with satisfaction and wrestled the bludger back into its case, latching it securely. Erika swung around rather quickly and eyed her causing Helena’s face to redden, especially as she recognized those bluish green eyes of hers from earlier. Someone must have casted Lumos to enlighten her on the soulmate topic as after looking at Erika once again, she did not even feel the need to look at the other Slytherin quidditch players as the eyes surely matched Erika’s. She probably looked like a fool in that moment, stopping in her place and simply staring, and Erika did not take long to observe her mannerisms.

“You came to watch Durazzo?” Erika commented with a peculiar smile on her face.

“I was just walking in the area…” Helena awkwardly rubbed the back of her head, pondering if Erika had connected the same dots she had. Judging by her quite uncharacteristic behavior perhaps she had. “It’s a nice day after all.” She added before instinctively walking over towards the blonde Slytherin.

“I meant to apologize for that bludger a couple of weeks ago.” Erika surprisingly apologized, so unlike how many of the rumors interpreted her.

“That was you?” Helena’s eyes widened before realizing that she did only have a fifty-fifty chance between the two beaters, and with someone as such a ruthless reputation as Erika it was always bound to be her.

“Yeah.” Erika shrugged, “Ended up hitting the bludger with my bat at an awkward angle due to a missed perception of the bludger’s location, and before I knew it, that bludger was heading towards the stands. I know we don’t know each other that well, but it’s good to see you not be locked up in the hospital wing.”

“So you…?” Helena blushed.

“Yeah…” Erika smiled in a way that was so perplexing given her tough exterior. “It took me a bit to figure it out. But your hair was what gave you away to me. And ever since I was trying to figure out how to interpret our fate and those feelings.”

“I have been too.” Helena looked off to the side. “But regardless, I think we will have a bright future ahead of us.”

[kkoumiii]

❁ 𝐁𝐚𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛 | 배제이콥⎾𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚⏌*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

/!\ Friendly reminder that my readings should not be taken at face value, I do not claim to hold the truth and I do not mean any harm to this idol, my readings are only for entertainment purposes. /!\

🌌 𝗕.𝗢.𝗬 (𝗕𝗲𝘁 𝗢𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂) - 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖡𝖮𝖸𝖹 🌌

1:02 ───ㅇ───── 2:40

⊱ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ's ϙᴜᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ⊰

• Hedonist (Light attribute) | Knight of Swords | Ace of Wands | Leo ~ I will •

- When he has something in mind, he’s determined to do it and works hard to achieve his goals

- This man is CHILL. He’s definitely not the type to get into drama just for fun or be hotheaded

- Still, he has a lot of pride, and he’s slowly gaining more confidence

- This is no surprise that Jacob is generous, reliable, kind, and has a big heart. But what else could we expect from the angel of The Boyz? Soft energy kind of boy  

- He is not hard to satisfy, he is pretty much up to everything. You want to go for a walk? He’s cool with it. Want to have a picnic? Sure, let’s go. Wanna go to a fancy restaurant? He will gladly join you. Whether it is simple or high society activities, he doesn’t mind if he is with someone he appreciates

- Secrets keeper

- Jacob is creative and has an eye for beauty. He tends to have his head in the clouds since his imagination is running high

- He likes and needs new projects to stay on track and remain motivated

- He enjoys getting attention but won’t fight for the spotlight

- Opportunist, he’s up to challenge but within reason, he will get cold feet if it’s too much out of his comfort zone

- Sometimes, Jacob seems to see only people’s good side since he focuses more on their potential and idealizes them

- Yet somehow, he remains realistic, probably because he is aware of this tendency and his own limits. I can interpret this as him being very tolerant and kind to people, but if it goes too far and someone tries to take advantage of him, he won't let it slide anymore. Though, I feel like the issue has to go to great lengths for him to act upon it.

⊱ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ's ғᴀᴜʟᴛs ⊰

• Poet (Light attribute) | The Moon | Fifth House ~ Creativity •

- This boy tends to avoid daily boring tasks and reality in general terms; he needs to be brought back down to earth from time to time since he’s often lost in his thoughts

- Related to what I said earlier, he tends to be delusional and turns a blind eye to most of the mistakes people do, especially those he holds close to his heart

- He is probably also a bit gullible and manipulable, and sadly some people use this to their advantage. This is disconcerting since I feel like he is aware of all of this, but he still lets it slide

- Basically, he lacks discernment and is too idealistic

- He isn’t always taken seriously because he seems to be always portrayed as this kind, chill, and friendly man, but no one expects him to also be annoyed, angry, or stand his ground sometimes

- Which leads him to often be taken for granted

- The thing is, he seems to reject emotions or feelings he deems as negative, which feeds this image of him always being kind and sweet. It feels like he always has to play a role to match what people expect from him

- And sometimes he is oblivious to people’s true motives

- After all, maybe he acts this way to protect himself from conflicts and problems. But I think he is slowly but surely learning to stand up for himself and not let other people walk all over him.  

⊱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ϙᴜᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴅᴏᴇs ʜᴇ ᴀᴅᴍɪʀᴇ? ⊰

• Storyteller (Shadow attribute) | Beggar (Light attribute) | Networker (Shadow attribute) | The Hanged Man | Uranus ~ Genius •

The first words that came to my mind with these cards were authentic, thoughtful, patient, and resourceful. Basically, people who are naturally more withdrawn, don’t overshare, and keep their progress to themselves feel more reliable to Jacob. He appreciates people who truly do what they say and do not wait for approval since they will do everything in their own way anyway. Still, someone adaptable who is not afraid of change and can put things into perspective seems essential to him. Jacob is also inspired by resilient people who take time to work on their shadow side and do not rush to change the course of events because they wait wisely for the right time to make a move. Very important as well: someone who does not talk just for the sake of talking. He admires well-educated and cultivated people but boasting about it would be a major turn-off.

I'm in awe of this gif, his smile is everything 🥰 Lots of love xx

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Marcus Fremont Species: Selkie Occupation: Lighthouse Keeper Age: 35 Years Old Played By: Tyler Face Claim: Jacob Anderson

"The most harmful thing anyone can take from another person is the very thing that makes their identity."

Marcus Fremont was born to a selkie mother and human father in a small town near the coast of Oregon. Growing up, he did not use his pelt while his parents kept it to charge its magical properties. On his 13th birthday, his parents gifted him his pelt as a coming of age gift, going to great lengths to express the importance of safeguarding the pelt and never losing track of its whereabouts. Furthermore, since he was being raised as a human, his dual nature of being a selkie was to remain hidden to everybody except for family. From that point on, Marcus spent much of his time in seal form swimming around the Pacific Ocean. In human form, he often spent his time at an old lighthouse and even struck up a friendship with the old lighthouse keeper. He enjoyed the old man’s company, but he also loved any excuse he could have to be close to the water and feel the ocean breeze on his human skin. While he clearly favored the water, he also enjoyed his life on land and the friends that he had made amongst the regular humans. In spite of this, he never felt as if he really found his niche.

When he reached the age of 18, the ever daunting question arose, “what do you want to do for the rest of your life?”. He had no idea, nothing ever spoke to him. Perhaps competitive swimming? Of course, that wouldn’t be fair to his non-supernatural competition. Eventually, he decided to join the U.S Navy. His parents were nervous about his enlistment, his father fearing for his safety and his mother fearing for the secrecy of his true identity. For over 15 years, Marcus served and climbed up the ranks. His pelt remained safe and hidden away, kept underneath a false bottom he had added to his footlocker. He would only take it out when he needed to transform again, usually when he began to go through what he dubbed “seal withdrawals”. Eventually he was given a position as a commanding officer with his own quarters on a ship. Everything was going very smoothly, until very late one night when he thought there weren’t many people on deck. He had done it so many times before, find a spot on the ship that was not being closely watched, slip his seal pelt on, and lower himself into the water for a few minutes after throwing down a life buoy. Then he would hoist himself back up out of the water using the rope from the buoy. Usually in the wee hours of the morning, nobody would notice a thing as long as he was careful not to make too much noise. On this particular night, one of his newer subordinates was rounding the corner towards the back of the ship just as he had made his way back on deck. He quickly placed the pelt underneath the back of the nightclothes he was wearing and kept his back to one of the nearby walls. The sailor questioned what had happened and asked if he had fallen overboard. He then spotted the life buoy that had not yet been hoisted out of the water. Marcus laughed and explained that he has a habit of going for late night swims to unwind from the stressors of serving, and he always throws a life buoy out to make sure he has a way back on. He admitted to the sailor that it was dangerous, but that he felt he had it all under control, so he shouldn’t worry any further. Marcus then began to back away from the man, hoping to make it back to his quarters before he suspected anything further. The man noticed the odd behavior and asked why he was not showing his back to him. This frustrated Marcus, and he shouted at the sailor that questioning a commanding officer to this degree was insubordination and if he did not return to his post immediately, disciplinary action would follow. The sailor looked skeptically at Marcus for a few seconds, nodded, and then walked back to his post without another word. That was too close for comfort. Marcus would need to think of another plan, but he wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to dive into the water on a ship full of men with none of them noticing.

Not long after this incident, word began to spread amongst the crew. Officer Fremont was hiding something, and everyone wanted to know what it was. He caught a few men trying to break into his quarters where he kept his pelt. Maintaining his secrecy was becoming increasingly difficult, and he was unsure if he would be able to keep up with this increased level of scrutiny. At last the day came, he came upon his room ransacked. Every drawer, cabinet, and yes even his footlocker, was open and their contents all tossed to the floor. Marcus searched frantically for his pelt, but the pit in his stomach grew as his search confirmed what he already knew. His pelt was gone. But the scent of the man who took was still present, and he raced towards the edge of the ship. It almost seemed as though they used his pelt to swim across the sea. He would have to fake a man overboard incident and be counted MIA, and he would have to explain to his parents that he was okay later. For now, he would need to swim and follow the scent trail. He followed the trail by sea and on land as far as he could keep track of it. As it would happen, the scent happened to end right at a small coastal town named Wicked’s Rest.

Character Facts:

Personality: Disciplined, determined, narrow-focused, compassionate, task-oriented, socially awkward, prone to anger

As a selkie, he is able to shapeshift into the form of a seal and back into a human with the help of his pelt. However, since his pelt was stolen, this ability is not available to him until he gets it back.

With military experience, he is also skilled in the use of firearms and hand to hand combat.

As a selkie, he has an affinity for the water and prefers to be in the water more than dry land. He also has a strong love for marine life and goes to great lengths in order to conserve marine life wherever he goes.

He also keeps his human form in very fit physical condition, which he uses to justify his high intake of protein.

[chrisbannor]

Elements of Change

Chapter Two: Mason Creek

Ezo shivered in the evening chill as he trudged up the muddy hill. Rain poured around him and he was wet all the way through. His good coat which he’d treated against the rain could only do so much. Water dripped down his neck and back and even his boots had gotten soggy. Sure, he could use magic to repel the water, but there was a limit to any man’s strength and slogging through the mud took most of his attention.

There were days when he wished he’d bought himself a horse, but he wasn’t a horseman, and he preferred his own two feet to a creature that had its own opinions.

He reached the inn and opened the door but lost his grip as the wind caught it and slammed it shut. The wind roared even louder than the bloated river beside the inn and Ezo looked uneasily at it as he tried the door once more.

Light spilled across the wet streets as he managed to get a decent grip on the handle this time. He rushed inside and swept off the hood that had barely managed to keep the rain from his face. Finally, away from the downpour, he closed his eyes and imagined the water pulling away from his clothes and sliding under the door.

He had to concentrate harder when he worked with the element of water, but he was still proficient. Earth was his natural calling, but Uncle Jacob had been adamant that a good elementalist should never neglect any element. Ezo learned it wasn’t a popular belief though. When he’d gone to Malla City, the elementalists had looked aghast that he focused on more than one.

Idiots, the bunch of them. No wonder Jacob had stayed in the village whenever he could.

The water left his clothes and his hair dried, but when he moved the dried mud was still caked on his clothes and the fabric was stiff. He needed to get a room and change before he thought about food. And his stomach was reminding him - loudly - that he hadn’t eaten much as he walked through the rain all day.

“Can I get a room?” he asked as he looked towards the bar.

He should have paid attention before he started to do magic, but he was still learning. Not every village took to elementalists as his own had. The inn was mostly empty, except for a few travelers, the keeper, and the maids. All eyes were on him, and silence settled uneasily around the room.

“Can I get a room to clean up?” He stepped towards the bar and smiled. “And something to eat when I finish wouldn’t be remiss.”

“You got coin?” The woman wiped her hands on her apron and bit her lower lip.

“Of course. How could I pay for the room if I didn’t have coin?”

“Somes come through thinking they have a right. Elementalists. Soldiers.”

A snort rang out from one corner of the room, but Ezo ignored it in favor of smiling again. “And they would be wrong to do so.” He dug under the jacket and vest and the extra layers of fabric he wore until he had a handful of coins. He placed them on the bar for her. “Which way?”

“Maggie, show him.”

The maid came forward and eyed him up and down before she led him to the back of the inn where steps took them up to the guest rooms. She stopped in front of the last door on the right and opened it for him. He’d seen it before. They placed him as far away from others as they could.

Uncle Jacob taught him how to use the elements and the role of elementalists in the world. What he didn’t teach was how the world actually worked. People revered elementalists, or they hated elementalists, but people wanted to be elementalists. They held power, and people wanted what they didn’t have and feared it in equal measure.

“Thank you,” he said to the maid, slipping another coin to her for the trouble. He didn’t have a lot, but sometimes it was worth the coin to leave a good impression.

She took the coin but narrowed her eyes when she looked at it. She turned away without a word and left him outside his room. He shook his head, then stepped into the room.

It was clean and warm, and most importantly, dry. There was a lumpy-looking bed in the corner and a table with two chairs pulled up beside it. A stand next to the door held a basin, water pitcher, and mirror. He moved to the end of the room and pulled the curtain back to look out over the bloated river. The rains had been good this year, but here it had been too much. He covered the curtains and refused to let the memories of his lost home take his mind from the present.

Instead, he dropped his bag to the floor and began stripping out of his clothes. The pitcher was full, and he poured water into the basin. He used a washcloth to clean up and dressed in clean clothes. He’d deal with the rest of it later. He ran his fingers through his hair and redid the tie before he headed down. He felt presentable at least, with clean trousers and shirt, his favorite green vest, and his sash tied around his waist.

When he joined the others downstairs, the innkeeper motioned him towards a table in the corner. As much as he would have preferred to join one of the others to learn about their travels, he let them lead him away. Warm food beckoned and it wasn’t worth a fight for a little conversation. Not yet anyway. Maybe after his belly was full and his feet finally warmed.

Food was a generous portion of fish stew, bread, and ale. He ate quickly, keeping his head down, but listening to the sparse conversation in the tavern.

The table next to him held a traveler who seemed less interested in others than the quality of his ale. When the maid came around, he asked for more, threw a couple more coins on the table, and turned his eyes back to a journal. His voice was rough, but as the man coughed, Ezo thought it might be from a lack of use.

Ezo wouldn’t have given the man any heed if it weren’t for the journal. In the cities, something like that was a luxury, but it was common for elementalists to keep one. He continued to eat, but the man drew his attention.

Older than Ezo, but only by a few years. His brown hair curled about his shoulders. The clothes he wore were a grey so dark it was almost black, except for the red cloak he wore around his shoulders. The jacket underneath buttoned up the side like the uniform of the War-Sworn but wasn’t the right design or color. Jacob had hated the War-Sworn and warned Ezo off about them. Ezo could never imagine dedicating his magic to the art of war, but he also understood the sacrifice such elementalists went through to do so. Ezo didn’t hate them, but he pitied a man who could turn such a gift into a weapon.

He must have been doing a poor job of keeping his observation to himself because the man looked over at him and scowled. The traveler closed his journal and tucked it in a pouch under his cloak. He grabbed his mug and took the pitcher from the maid before he looked back at Ezo. His eyes were cold, but his face was handsome. Ezo thought if he smiled, he might even be called striking. He watched as the traveler looked him over. His eyes paused on Ezo’s left hand, until Ezo covered it with his right hand. The traveler dismissed him then and headed up the stairs.

Ezo turned his attention back to his food and was happy to tuck into the cheese and fruit Maggie set down for him. She gave him a small smile before she walked away. At least someone was warming up to him.

He turned his attention to his food and let the rest of the miserable day fade into the background.

###

Maggie refilled his ale when he finished with his meal and he was content as he was; a full belly, a warm fire nearby, and a bed to turn to when he was ready. If the rain let up, he’d head on in the morning. It was obvious from his reception at the inn that his sort of help wouldn’t be welcomed here.

A loud crash outside made him jump out of his seat.

“Thunder and lightning of all things,” Maggie complained as she covered her ears.

 Ezo ran to the door and out into the muddy streets. Lightning lit the sky, but it wasn’t thunder Maggie had heard and Ezo could see the wash of muck in the river above the town. A bell at the other end of town began to ring out, but it was barely audible over the rush of water and the crack of thunder that followed.

Someone slid past Ezo but grabbed his arm to stop himself. “Get to higher ground,” the man shouted over the rain. “The dam broke!”

Ezo pushed away from him and rushed towards the river. It was already swollen from the rain and lapped against the embankment. It was too late to evacuate the town. There had to be something else he could do. There was no place to divert the water, and even if there was, he didn’t have the strength to pull that off.

He closed his eyes and crouched down to touch the earth. Mud squelched between his fingers as he centered himself and pulled the mud from the raging waters to form a higher wall around the water’s edge. He pulled from the earth at his feet, digging deeper under the river to keep building a new wall between the town and the dam waters.

The wall raised higher, and he could no longer see the coming flood, but he could feel the power behind it. He shivered in the cold, clenched his fists deeper into the earth, and fought against the ache that began to creep up his spine.

He was drawing too much power from himself. He wouldn’t last much longer before it overcame him completely and he blacked out. He knew his limits, but he couldn’t stop.

People shouted behind him, but he pushed them out of his awareness. Earth moved in his mind, and he felt it in his body as the waters began to strike the walls he’d built.

“Bloody idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

A warm hand pushed against his neck, and another slid beneath his shirt to touch his side. He was immediately filled with strength though he had been wavering a moment before. He didn’t know who it was, but he pressed into the connection with the other elementalist. The spirit that pushed into his consciousness was fight and fire, a will indomitable, with a grief so deep it could bury him. He was strong. Stronger than any elementalist Ezo had ever met, even if he could feel the fatigue pulling at the other man’s reserves already.

Ezo pushed away from that recognition and back towards the raging waters. He was in control of the flow of power, and he used the extra resources to push the earth even higher. He felt the water crash against it, felt the walls hold against the onslaught of sludge and water and debris from the areas swept away above. And then his strength give way to darkness, and strong arms pulled him close when he fell.

###

Ezo woke slowly, blinking gritty eyes to stare up at the rafters. He tried to get up, but the room spun, and he decided it was best to stay on his back for a bit. When he opened his eyes again, the traveler from earlier was above him. Green eyes regarded him, and his lips were drawn tight.

“Well, what do you know. You didn’t kill yourself after all.”

Ezo wanted to reply to that, but the man moved away, and he was too tired to look for him. He fell back to sleep and drifted in and out, sometimes finding the green-eyed man watching him. When he woke the next morning though, he was in his bed, warm, clean, and alone.

Someone had changed him into clean clothes and when he looked in the mirror, even his hair had been washed.

“I must have really been out of it,” he said to his reflection. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots before he threw on his coat and walked down the stairs.

The inn was bursting with people, and he nearly fell when the first patron slapped him on the back, raising his glass to him. The room cheered loudly, and he flinched, covering his eyes. He was recovered enough to be out of bed, but the backlash of controlling that much magic still lingered. Everything was overwhelming him.

He felt strong arms pull him away from the crowd and heard the hush that fell over them. He was pushed down onto a bench and a mug was placed in his hand.

“Don’t drink that yet,” the gruff voice said. He felt something tap against the mug and he knew what it was. When hands directed him to put the mug to his lips, he drank.

The ale didn’t hide the bitter taste of the powder that had been added, but it improved the flavor. When he drank it to the dregs, he felt calmer. More centered. He opened his eyes and found himself at the corner table.

“It was you,” Ezo said to the traveler who was assisting him. “You’re the elementalist.”

“You’re in better hands than mine now,” the man said. “You have more leria powder?”

“I do.”

“Then you’re not quite as dumb as I thought you were.”

“Hey!”

“Take care of yourself, Raven.”

Before Ezo could ask what he meant by that the innkeeper interrupted him.

“I’ll have some food out for you in just a minute,” she said, wringing her hands on a small bag she held. “Best of what I have, I promise you that.” She handed the bag to him, and he could feel the weight of coins. “We all chipped in. It isn’t much, but we’d have lost everything if you hadn’t come by.”

“I didn’t do it for the money,” he said.

“Take it,” the traveler said as he moved towards the door. “Too many people don’t pay for the service. Even an elementalist has to eat.” He left the inn before Ezo could respond.

Ezo started to get up, but the keeper was in his way, motioning him back down. “Don’t you worry. We gave him coin as well since he helped you. But we don’t want no War-Sworn here in Mason Creek.”

He wanted to follow, but he knew he was in no shape to travel just yet. Instead, he smiled at the keeper. “Perhaps I could take food in my room? I need to lie down again.”

She shooed everyone out of his way as he trudged back up the stairs, but he barely noticed. His mind was swirling. War-Sworn. An elementalist who had pledged their services to the art of war. The War-Sworn were Distria’s first and last line of defense against invasion. The nobles were even said to have them on paid retainer. Those who had seen battle though had been rumored to be exhausted beyond simple healing.

That explained the exhaustion he had found in the other man. And, maybe, the grief as well.

Ezo sat on the edge of the bed and tried not to think about it. But he could still feel the man’s presence in the back of his head. War-Sworn or not, he’d come to Ezo’s aid. He owed the man a debt and he would find him someday to repay it.

Author's Note: What do you think of this strange elementalist who showed up? And how crazy is Ezo to try to stop a flooding river? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

[upwords1990]

HIS SOUL TO SAVE

His Soul to Save (Dark Knights of Heaven Book 3) https://a.co/d/hvGyVM2

TW Knight - Author

Soulless and exiled from Heaven the Dark Knights have spent millennia protecting humanity from Lucifer and his demons. But the longer they live the closer they come to joining Lucifer’s ranks in Hell. Their only hope is to find their soul keepers, and love.

After an attack by a demon left her injured and weak Amber Fitzpatrick welcomed the attention and caring of her rescuer Jacob—until he turned into an abusive monster. The night Amber flees the possessive, extraordinarily toxic relationship Jacob reveals his true demonic nature.

Zach has more than Lucifer’s minions to contend with. Each day brings him closer to Hell. For fifty years he’s walked the thin line between sanity and giving in to his dark urges. Urges that go against his calling as a healer and a teacher. Every battle drives him closer to the edge, feeds his inner demon and pushes him to find a permanent solution to death.

#paranormalromance

#demonsanddevilsparanormal

#angels#demons

#BookNow2024#booktok#bestsellingauthor#booknow#authorcommunity#bookstagram#bookrecommendations

[ofspvrta]

It can't be easy for Evie. She's a naturally curious woman, and being stuck in this small flat in Whitechapel hidden away from their connections to the city is probably torture. What things does she hear with those sharper ears now? What scents does she take in? What things does she know about the rooms around them without ever leaving? And how hard has it been to keep an arm's length from Kassandra as a precaution while they figured this shit out? Questions for later, not for now.

"I wish we could, but with Jacob and the Brotherhood still in the city, with Freddie around, it runs a risk and we're not ready to tell your brother what happened." The news that Freddie was promoted to chief inspector would have to wait. "There are other ways we can expend that energy," she suggests softly.

Kassandra lets Evie lead things, as she often does in matters of affection. Especially in moments of uncertainty. But it's clear that Evie longs for and craves loving touches, the chance to be close and take back the moments they were missing in that week. Those beautiful blue eyes closing as she presses Kassandra's fingers to her lips causes the Keeper to sigh slowly.

"Tell me what you need, Evie, and it is yours."

speaking of powers -- it's the way evie's head tilts away from kassandra , her smile crooking into a slightly shy one because kassandra did just happen to know she had a whole lot of thoughts racing through her mind. CAUGHT. not that it's a complaint. cooped up to make sure she's safe. a very slight emotional distance away from kassandra to make sure she's safe. AND THAT'S ABOUT TO CRASH AWAY. it's so utterly hard to stay away from somebody that is your safe place.

" i'm thinking that i miss running across the rooftops. i am absolutely not a fan of being cooped up and now i have a lot of pent up energy. especially after ... that. "

and evie's head turns , finds one of kassandra's hands. her now free hand reaches for kassandra's , hand wrapping around wrist , fingers sliding up palm until she was holding onto a few of kassandra's fingers. all of this with the hand without a glove. she presses kassandra's fingertips against her lips. the kiss lingers and blue eyes shut. in that moment , she looks at peace. SHE REALLY WAS. trust is a true peaceful feeling.

" ... kassandra. "

[takamoris]

After several hours of grinding with Isaac’s D6 in every single shop to get Mom’s Box, with the intent to get the Missing Poster for The Lost unlock, failing and resetting many, many runs, I ended up just getting it out of a random chest. So. I carried it with me for the rest of an entire run. And not a single Sacrifice Room spawned. UNTIL. The room right before the Isaac fight in The Cathedral. This game is fucked.

[panlight]

BELLA SHOULD'VE LOST HER ARM/HAND IN TWILIGHT! I SAID WHAT I SAID! What, you're telling me the venom from James's bite just sat there and didn't do anything in the time it took Edward to decide on sucking it out? Is venom a sentient being that knows to wait a certain amount of time before changing someone? Doubt it. That venom immediately went surging through Bella's veins and should've done some sort of damage (I like to headcanon that venom actually melts veins). GIVE ME CONSEQUENCES, SM! STOP MAKING EVERYTHING SO PERFECT AND FAIRYTALE-ISH!

I really just overall thought the James bite was going to be significant down the line. Either it would make Bella immune to vampire venom and unable to be turned, or maybe it could have been an excuse for why she was so natural at becoming a vampire (maybe that little hint of venom changed her brain just enough that all things vampire just seemed normal and fine to her before she even became one) or it was slowly turning her over time and no one realized or SOMETHING. 

So much is made about Bella being the only one to choose to become a vegetarian vampire before she was turned, but she’s also the only person who has been bitten by a vampire and didn’t turn or die. And it’s just . . . not really a thing they talk about? It’s not relevant to the plot? It’s just a sparkly scar that Edward can feel bad about and Jacob can be weirded out about and that’s it. There’s so much potential there, mythology-wise, and would have been one way to handwave Bella being the Bestest Vampire Evah and make it seem a bit less like author favoritism or plot armor like, oh, the reason she’s so good at this is that that bite changed her somehow. 

God, maybe even the bite is the reason that Renesmee is possible. Then the one-in-a-million, “we’ve never heard of this (but our cleaning lady has and it’s on the internet somehow)” makes a bit more sense. That bite, that tiny bit of venom, changed Bella’s biology on some subtle level that made it compatible with Edward’s venom-sperm or . . . I mean that’s still obviously ridiculous but it makes more sense than super curious Keeper of Vampire History Aro having no idea this is possible and super curious Vampire Doctor Whose Wife and Daughter Long for Children having never looked into this before. 

Or failing some mythology significance, it would have been interesting if, like you said, there were some physical repercussions. Maybe she had limited mobility in her hand after that because it had started to turn to the stone-like vampire biology, but the rest of her body didn’t so she can’t move it well. Maybe it feels heavier in a weird way. 

[grox-empire]

TBOI AU/HEADCANONS PART 2!!!

Gapers and kin are descendants of some sort of rodent. Their closest kin on the surface would be some kind of rat.

Lilith and Azazel were both orphaned at a young age, And as such Lilith took on most of the responsibility of caring for her little brother due to being the older of the two. Despite her lack of eyesight and lack of wings, She managed to pull through. When she met Incubus, An orphaned larval demon, She just had to take them in because she didn't want Incubus to grow up alone. This is why Lilith is seen as the mother figure to all the kids in the basement, Despite being too young to be a mother herself.

Gello is a subspecies on demon which has a parasitic lifestyle as one of its life stages. It relies on its host for nutrients while in turn ensuring their host is well-defended. Other than that, However, The infection can cause lethargy, Malnutrition, and eventually death. Gello will eventually mature into a rather typical-looking demon and start the process all over again.

Siren and Lilith are good friends! Lilith sees siren as an older sister figure.

Satan is the father of Azazel and Lilith.

Eden and Apollyon have a bitter rivalry. As Eden brings items into the basement, Apollyon destroys the creations they put effort into. This naturally leads to a lot of tension between the two as they are polar opposites in nature, One creating, One destroying.

Ghosts in the basement are a product of too much death. You can never truly die in the basement, You'll always come back, But sometimes you won't come back the same as before... The lost was quite careless before they became a ghost, But after their sudden transformation, they quickly developed severe anxiety and a skittish nature. Their mantle is the only thing keeping them from dying once again.

Dark Esau was born after the mirror world's Esau died many times trying to get revenge on the mirror world's Jacob. Esau was persistent, A bit too persistent even. To the point they'd die over and over again just to get back at their twin brother.

Eve sees her curse as more of a blessing, If anything. To the point, she ignores everyone who calls it a curse. Her curse was given to her by Satan and while she was initially freaked out, She came to accept it as a part of her.

As such, Eve definitely read warrior cats before entering the basement.

None of the characters are neurotypical.

Keeper is actually a highly intelligent colony of spiders inhabiting a desiccated corpse.

Frowning gapers are a more hostile caste of Gaper. Fatties are soldiers. Angels, or any of the kids through words. They have their own language consisting of squeaks, grunts, and hisses. Some of the sounds they can produce are eerily human-like, Especially their crying. They can, However, Communicate through art. A large portion of the basement's wall-etchings were created by gaper colonies.

Frowning gapers are a more hostile caste of Gaper. Fatties are soldiers. Moles construct their large hives and Mega Fatties essentially act as reproductive queens, Rarely leaving their dens except when migrating to a new location.

Mulligans and all of their variations are gapers infected with parasitic flies. They are typically cast out of the colony as soon as possible to prevent further spread of the infection, Which leaves many pups orphaned.

Gapers can survive briefly without their heads as long as their brainstem is still intact. They often die soon after, Though.

As gapers are one of the most prolific species in the basement, Many species variants exist for different sections of the basement.

Hosts are a strange type of snail. Their skull is actually an oddly-shaped shell.

Demons are very social creatures and are able to mimic human speech. Some of the more intelligent demon species are rather friendly towards humans.

Satan will grant items and curses/powers in exchange for food. Red hearts are his favorite.

[hibiscuswrites]

Wholesome idea how would the seed brothers react if they saw you feeling insecure about your body (ex.weight)

Jacob doesn’t particularly get it. Like sure, you’re upset and that makes him affected since he cares for you, but to Jacob, our bodies are tools. Vessels. Something that is there for us to build and train and use. He’s all about being strong and tough and serving your purpose. So that’s the direction that his comfort might lean. He may go into how your weight makes you more solid and more able to withstand things others may not. How you’re hardier because of it. Things like that. He’s probably not one to try and talk you out of it or change your mind about how you feel, more so to get you to see the positives in it. If you really do want to lose weight then he’d be more than happy to help you with that. He’d take you out with him to the mountains to hike or swim or train. He comforts you to make you feel better in the moment but he also wants to find out what will make you feel better about it, and if losing a couple pounds is what will make you smile then he’ll be there. If compliments and affection are all that you need, he’ll be there to provide that too.

He tries to put a stop to it right away. He doesn’t invalidate your feelings to try to change your mind necessarily, because he still wants you to know that it’s ok to feel how you feel, but he tries to get you to see yourself in a different light. He uses words himself that are more appealing to describe you. “Supple” “plush” “voluptuous” and things of that nature. He tried to comfort you and remind you of not only how beautiful he finds you, but how many other attributes you have that you should be proud of. He understands that being insecure is a part of human nature as he himself deals with it sometimes just like any other human does, but he doesn’t like the thought that his beloved partner is unhappy or feeling bad about themselves. He will do whatever he has to try and soothe you enough for the time being and then work with you to try and build up your confidence and try to get you to see the beauty that he does when he looks at you. 

He doesn’t like it and he won’t stand for it. He’s familiar with feeling like you’re not good enough, but it had always been from a place of within, not concerning how he looked on the outside. John is a very confident and oftentimes an arrogant man in that respect. He’s conventionally attractive and he’s aware of that. So while he may not be able to relate in that way, he does try to help, even if he’s not very good at it. He will buy you outfits that are fancy and lavish, maybe have garments custom made for you that are tailored to your body to make sure they are as flattering to you as possible. He will do his best to try and get you to see how beautiful he thinks you are in hopes that you will be able to see it too. 

FC5 taglist @belle82devart @gamer-purgatory @twistedinbliss

General taglist @a-dorky-book-keeper  @jigsawlover10  @titty-teetee @my-rosegold-soul  @felicity-x0 @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @preciousbarakat @elcococruz @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 35) - Original Fiction

AN: Ooh, boy, this was a long chapter to write. Hope you enjoy reading!

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

-

Chapter 35:

Night had fallen quickly, plunging their surroundings into pitch black not long after they had returned to camp. Eishirou was once again issued with the task of sitting down and letting the Elites prepare camp, where they would stay for the night. Although feeling somewhat guilty that he wasn’t physically useful, he had other work that needed to be done.

The campfire was the first thing to be built, so he was sat on some thick padding on the ground next to the fire.

The illumination of the campfire would prove to be less of a beacon for ShadowDwellers than an artificial lantern. Besides, there was something alluring about a campfire; the sound, the smell, the dancing, flickering light.

It reminded Eishirou of the recordings he had viewed. Which helped since he was in the middle of typing out a report for said recordings.

His writings wouldn’t be considered professional to many, but since it was to reach Jacob, it didn’t have to be perfect. He just needed to jot down what he had witnessed as frankly as possible. Even if his musings were somewhat jumbled.

Although reluctant to do so, he also explained the moments of their first ShadowDweller encounter and then near-miss with a rockslide. Those pieces of information were sure to worry anyone who read the report, especially Jacob, but Eishirou knew it wasn’t something he could just flatly deny.

But he did add the small consolation of a possible new area to explore sometime in the future.

Zayne suddenly dropping down onto the mat next to him, lounging causally on his side, pulled Eishirou from his work.

“Did you take your painkiller?” Zayne asked as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and leaned on his elbow.

Eishirou nodded. “Yep. Needed to get this report done before the drowsiness kicks in.”

Thankfully, he was almost done with the wordy part of his report, as jumbled as that was. All he needed to do next was to attach the photos he had taken.

Speaking of photos.

“Before I send this; can you see it?” Eishirou questioned as he turned his tablet toward Zayne.

“Hm?” Zayne glanced at it idly to begin with before he perked up and reached with his hand to take hold of the tablet so that he could get a closer look. “Is that the ShadowDweller we encountered today?”

Eishirou felt a rush of relief. “Ah, so it did work.”

He had been worried that it would just disappear from existence or something.

Intrigued by Zayne’s response, Rinka wandered over to him with a wholly curious expression. “Can I see?”

As Eishirou retrieved the tablet from Zayne to present to Rinka, Leon wandered over, also.

“I’m interested, too,” he admitted and leaned over Rinka’s shoulder (more like simply tilted his head down since he was so tall) to look at the tablet, too. A flicker of surprise appeared on his face, matched in time with Rinka’s eyes widening, before he appeared intrigued. “Hmm. Looks bigger from this photo.”

Did it? From Eishirou’s point of view, the photo couldn’t properly convey how big the ShadowDweller truly was in person.

“Isn’t it virtually impossible for a photo to be taken of a ShadowDweller?”

Eishirou winced at Cadmus’s sudden but actually quite understandable question. “W-well, yeah.”

As he retrieved the tablet from Rinka, he risked a glance over in the veteran Elite’s direction. Only to find a pair of sharp eyes fearlessly and pointedly looking directly at him.

“How did you manage it?”

“I just…took the photo,” Eishirou replied as he turned his head away abruptly and busied himself attaching photos to his report. “I mean, it showed up on the map, so I figured that it had enough outward mana to take a photo of it. Of course, it could just be sheer luck.”

Cadmus didn’t verbally respond. Though, Eishirou certainly felt his eyes on him…

His question also caused a tense silence to fall over the group. Rinka shuffled away, moving to sit next to Ernesta on the other side of the campfire. Leon shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned to pace the perimeter of their camp.

“So, this means it’s the first photo of a ShadowDweller, right?” Zayne suddenly commented, breaking the silence. “It’ll be sure to make you famous.”

Zayne’s tone was light with a hint of teasing, which prompted Eishirou to relax. “I hope not. But I do hope it’ll be of use for future ShadowDweller Research.”

Just before Eishirou moved to finally send off his report, he took a moment to gaze at the ShadowDweller photo again. Was it really the only photo of a ShadowDweller in existence? More importantly, how and why was he able to take photo?

Hm…The X marking he saw didn’t show up on the photo?

Well, that was something he would have to work on later. His first priority was to learn how to activate the Red Lily. Before those Star Rebellion group got their hands on it.

“There,” Eishirou sighed. “Hopefully that went through.”

“Was that information sent to Professor Chryses?” Ernesta asked.

Eishirou set his tablet aside. “Not directly, but it should get to him. It’s easier for me to send information through to Communications. Misaki will then send it to the appropriate people.”

Leon paused in his pacing and tilted his head to the side. “Misaki?”

“Oh, Misaki is going to be our contact for this mission,” Eishirou explained, leaning back on his hands. “I feel kinda bad since he's going to be working overtime for this.”

“Ah,” Leon uttered simply in understanding. He paused for a moment before adding, “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” Eishirou replied with a smile. “He has a habit of being parental at times. I keep telling him to take medical classes as I’m sure he would be a great medic.”

Leon turned back to his pacing, those his movements were more for the need to move rather than out of caution. “He definitely seems the type not liking to see anyone hurt.”

Eishirou immediately nodded his head. “Definitely.”

He soon found himself musing that possibility. “Hm, I wonder if that’s the reason why he’s reluctant to become a medic. It’s a medic’s job to deal with the injured. He might be better off staying a chronicler and communicator. He’s also the type to take an attack in someone else’s place.”

“Tch.”

A sound, like an annoyed scoff, was heard over the crackling of the fire. It was a terse sound, though soft, also. He wasn’t sure if that sound was just one of the many noises of nature around them. Or if someone had responded to his ramblings.

It was probably just a croak of a frog or something.

Though…Ernesta was side-eying Tatsu with a tight frown on her lips.

Another sound was heard, but one that was immediately recognisable. It was his tablet alerting him. He immediately picked up the tablet and tapped at the screen to activate. Thankfully, it was a message from Misaki.

Oh, good, information got through. He hoped Jacob would be thrilled with the information he found. Even though it wasn’t exactly what he was sent to find.

Another message soon came through, once again from Misaki. Though, it was on the behalf of Neriah.

“Oh hey, Leon?” Eishirou called out, immediately gaining the Elite’s attention. “I just got a message from Neriah regarding Mikiel. His status has been steadily improving. His brainwaves are becoming stable. He believes that he may awaken in a few days.”

Leon perked his head up, an expression of relief on his face. “Really?”

“Hm?” Cadmus uttered. “That is the Elite you rescued, yes?”

“Yes,” Ernesta immediately answered, turning her head in the veteran’s direction to gaze at him with a somewhat placid expression. “We found his badge and it is thanks to Eishirou that we had found him in time.”

Cadmus arched an eyebrow at the team leader. Eishirou was about to explain that it was Team 3 who had found and rescued Mikiel. Eishirou had just been the medic at the time. But another buzzing from his tablet prompted him to immediately turn his attention back to it.

It was another message from Misaki. The content of the message, however, didn’t appear pleasant. If Misaki beginning the message with “debated whether or not to give you this while on a mission” was any indication.

And after reading the message, he immediately understood why.

It was information about the missing Elites of Flutterlight Forest. And the news wasn’t good. Two bodies had been found. The document didn’t go into great detail about what…state the bodies were found it. But the information it did provide was no less disturbing.

They were…robbed of their belongings? Badges and holsters? That…meant they weren’t the victims of ShadowDwellers, did it? A ShadowDweller had no use for such items.

He tried to supress a wince as he read through the information, but clearly, he did a poor job at it as Zayne immediately nudged him with his arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“There's...news about a two of the missing Elites,” Eishirou admitted reluctantly.

“From your wince, the news isn't good?”

Eishirou shook his head and sighed. He couldn’t keep the information away from the others. It was disturbing, something that needed to be known. And that would, no doubt, increase the Elites’ caution and protection.

“No. They were found. Not alive, though.”

A tense silence immediately fell over the campsite.

“…Any names?” Leon asked softly.

Eishirou shook his head again, granting the silently distraught Elite a sympathetic look. “No. Not yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Leon replied simply, his voice purposely steady. However, he turned his back toward the campfire and stared out into the pitch darkness of the forest around them.

Everyone fell into silence once more.

Eishirou looked sadly at Leon’s back before he uttered a sigh. He set his tablet aside upon his bag and pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin atop of his knees. He was certain that Zayne and the others were worried about future encounters with ShadowDwellers, those creatures being the first to come to mind upon learning the defeat of a pair of Elites.

But the information Eishirou had read indicated that something else might be response. Something wholly more human. Of course, he had no way knowing that human interference was involved. Maybe a ShadowDweller was responsible and someone opportunistic looted the bodies for their own gain.

Whatever the reason, he was grateful that Zayne was beside him.

“You know,” Tatsu unexpectedly began, “there’s a theory doing the rounds stating that the presence of Passives may be the reason for increased ShadowDweller attacks.”

Eishirou abruptly lifted his chin from his knees and whipped his head in Tatsu’s direction.

That…he had heard something along the lines of it. High populations of Passives, with their inert mana deposits, were believed to be a draw point for ShadowDwellers. It hadn’t been confirmed. But it hadn’t been debunked, either.

Do…do Elites believe that, though?

Zayne slowly pushed himself upright. “Is that so?” he asked slowly, his tone terse. “Are you saying that it was Misaki's fault he got injured when he was a kid? By a ShadowDweller, no less? While you, an Elite, was there and should have done something about it?”

From the other side of the camp, Tatsu snapped his head sharply in Zayne’s direction. “What did you just say?” he hissed, surprising and honestly startling Eishirou greatly.

Zayne, however, scoffed and pushed himself to his feet. “Do I need to repeat myself? Misaki has a scar on his forehead because of a ShadowDweller attack. An attack you were present for. Does it bother you that a weak, fragile Passive protected your worthless ass instead? Is that it?”

Tatsu’s green eyes seemed to…flash with anger. “That isn’t what happened. Who told you that?”

“Who do you think? It may surprise you that Eishirou and Misaki are friends.”

Tatsu turned his head sharply in Eishirou’s direction. “Eishirou…”

The way he practically growled his name with barely suppressed rage caused Eishirou to wince. And feel the need to, well…hide away from him. That anger…he wouldn’t actually attempt to hurt him. Would he?

However, Zayne suddenly moved to stand in front of Eishirou. Protecting him. Again. “Eyes on me, asshole.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?” Tatsu snapped. “He's just a Passive!”

“Eishirou is not just a Passive,” Zayne retorted just as sharply. “He's a medic, a researcher, a Chronicler. He enjoys reading up ancient myths and legends. He plays a violin, for fuck's sake. He's not just a Passive.”

Eishirou’s felt his eyes widen as he stared up at Zayne. His back straight, his shoulders tense, his legs spread apart in a power stance. He meant it. He meant everything he said. He wasn’t just standing up for him – he was protecting him. Not only because he needed it.

But because, in his mind, he deserved it.

Zayne…

“But you,” Zayne continued. “You’re nothing but an Elite. And that’s all you will ever be.”

That…

He was talking about himself, too, wasn’t he?

“That’s enough,” Cadmus interjected with a purely reprimanding tone, physically moving to stand between the two. “Zayne, an Elite is meant to remain professional at all times.”

“Since when does being professional mean you have to be a cold, heartless bastard?” Zayne retorted.

And it appeared to be a question that Cadmus couldn’t answer immediately.

“Passives don't belong on the battlefield,” Tatsu quickly spat, unable to hold himself back from doing so.

Again, Zayne snapped his attention toward his teammate. “You’re sounding like a fucking parrot, repeating the same shit over and over again. Sure, Passives shouldn’t be on the battlefield, which is why there are fucking Elites, you dumbass! Passives don't fight! They don't have to! They do literally everything else!”

“Only because of Elites. Passives wouldn’t exist without Elites!”

“Elites wouldn’t survive without Passives!

Tatsu barked out a sharp, almost disturbing laugh. “Do you actually believe that shit?”

Zayne’s expression unexpectedly darkened. “I bet you can't even cook a cup of instant noodles without fucking it up. Elites are useless outside the battlefield. And you know it. And that's why you're such an asshole; you've been told that Elites are superior. That we are all powerful and important. But we're not. We fight. We fight and protect. And that's fucking it. We can't have hobbies. We can't have interests. We can't even have friends. We're soldiers, not human beings. And that's fucking infuriating.”

Eishirou…knew those things. But it hurt to hear. It hurt because no one disputed that. No one attempted to correct him.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Cadmus once again tried to intervene.

But Zayne was having none of it. His frustrations, his anger, his…self-loathing was too much. He had been holding back for so long.

He couldn’t hold it back any more.

“No, you shut and listen for once in your god-damn life,” Zayne said, utterly scathingly toward his father, visibly startling the other man. “I'm not just an Elite. I'm not just a prodigy. I'm not just the son to an Elite. There is more to me than being an Elite. I know there is. But I don't know what. I want to find out. I want to have hobbies. I want to have interests. I want there to be more to life than god-damn ShadowDwellers. Why is that so fucking wrong to you?”

Silence. A tense silence. The kind of tension one could just about physically see fell over the campsite once more.

Zayne stood off against his father, the two just staring at each other with unreadable expressions. But Eishirou could tell what Zayne had said struck a chord with his father. His cold silence, the purposely stoic expression…the crease at the corners of his eyes.

He felt something.

And Zayne…He had…been holding that in for a long time, hadn’t he? Years’ worth of pain and resentment.

“…This is not something that should be discussed here,” Cadmus finally stated, attempting to dismiss any possible future outburst. “Now let’s-”

“I want to as well.”

Rinka’s soft voice interrupting the Veteran Elite caused everyone to turn in the young woman’s direction. Standing next to the campfire, head lowered with her chin toward her chest and hair curtaining over her eyes, Rinka stood stock still.

With her hands curled into tight fists by her sides.

“Rinka?” Ernesta questioned; her voice filled with obvious concern.

“I want...I want to learn how to draw rabbits,” Rinka began slowly. “I want to learn how to make flower crowns. And go looking for seashells on the beach. I want to play volleyball and go swimming like other girls. I want to listen to music and learn how to dance. I want to be normal.”

Oh…

They…they really weren’t allowed to be anything else but Elites?

Her shoulders began to tremble. “I don’t want to be an Elite. I want to be a Passive!”

Rinka’s raised voice full of pain startled everyone within the camp. So sharp, so sorrowful was her voice, it immediately made Eishirou’s chest ache with pure empathy.

“Rinka…”

Eishirou pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the young Elite-no, young woman. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and crouched down in front of her so that he could look before her curtain of hair to the young, pained youth beneath.

“You don’t need to be a Passive to do those things. You’re human. You’re alive. And that’s a good enough reason,” he said gently as he reached up with his hand to brush aside her hair. “Listen, when we get back to the academy, we’ll go speak with Lyvia. She’ll be happy to help you. And be your friend.”

“R-really?” Rinka murmured as she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

Eishirou nodded and presented her with the handkerchief. “So, don’t cry.”

Rinka fumbled with the handkerchief and used it to hastily rubbed at her eyes. “S-sorry,” she murmured quietly.

When Ernesta moved to stand on Rinka’s other side and, too, lowered her tall frame to crouch down beside her, Eishirou dutifully stood and took a step back. Far from perturbed by Rinka’s outburst, Ernesta appeared sympathetic and understanding. And not remotely surprised.

Of course, he couldn’t be entirely sure as Ernesta’s expressions had always been either placid or passively aggressive. But he swore that she held a sense of gratitude in her eyes when she looked over at him.

Once more, silence reigned over the campsite. Only the crackling fire and the distant sound of frogs could be heart.

They were reacting to their own mortality, weren’t they?

There were reportedly more Passives than Elites, which was why they were so highly regarded. And yet, a reason why there were so few was because it was rare for an Elite to live pass the age of thirty. They were expected to marry young and have children early, to have an Elite child and to continue their lineage. If one did live beyond the age of thirty, they graduate to the title of Veteran Elite.

To live such a short life fighting and doing nothing else…

Being an Elite wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

It made him feel guilty that he was so afraid of Elites.

Eishirou uttered a sigh and pushed himself to his feet. He fidgeted with his hands in front of him as he turned to look into the brightly burning campfire. Something within the dancing flames and the pops and crackles was calming.

Yet, reflective, too.

“To be honest I, too, saw Elites as someone different from me,” Eishirou began quietly. “Someone beyond my league. And someone who I couldn’t possibly engage in conversation with as I expect them to treat me with nothing but disdain. And there were times, in the past, that turned out to be true.”

Haughty, aggressive, arrogant. There was no excuse for their attitudes. And he would never excuse such behaviour. But what he had heard today, he now knew of their reasons. It didn’t excuse their actions, but Eishirou was no longer going to allow himself to make grand, sweeping generalisations of a whole group of people because of a few bad incidents.

“But I understand now. And I’m sorry if I treated Elites differently or shied away from them, from you, because of a perceived intimidation. You’re human. Just like me.”

He used the accompanying silence to walk around the campfire to gather up his bag and tablet. There was still an undeniable amount of tension in the air, but the brewing situation seemed to have been diffused for now.

“It is late,” Ernesta stated. “Eishirou, you should get some sleep. You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

Yeah. His painkillers were starting to kick in. He felt exhausted.

“Right,” Eishirou replied simply to Ernesta’s suggestion before he turned and tilted his head questioningly in Zayne’s direction. “Zayne?”

Not bothering to answer verbally, Zayne simply nodded and moved to join Eishirou as he slipped the strap of his bag onto his shoulder. He then slipped an arm around Eishirou’s upper back and proceeded to escort him toward one of the set-up tents, ignoring the stares he was no doubt getting from his father and teammate.

As the flap of the tent fell behind them, blocking the view outside, Zayne suddenly pulled Eishirou into his arms in a tight hug. Eishirou, however, was only half startled by the sudden embrace. In all honesty, after hearing Zayne bare his soul to his father, he had wanted to walk straight up to Zayne and comfort him in some way.

“You ok?” he asked as he rested his cheek against Zayne’s chest, his head nestled beneath the taller man’s chin.

“I’m sorry about that,” Zayne said quietly.

Eishirou raised his hands to slip around Zayne and rest against his back. “You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you?”

“…Yeah,” Zayne admitted around a sigh. “And he just pisses me off.”

Eishirou gave a small chuckle in spite of himself. He wasn’t sure if Zayne was talking about his father, or about Tatsu. The both of them had been sniping at him all day, so it could be either one.

He was glad, however, that Zayne had gotten all of that off of his chest. To hold so much resentment for such a long time must have been incredibly painful.

Eishirou subconsciously tightened his arms around Zayne. He didn’t want him to suffer like that again.

“Zayne, listen; I’m grateful to have met you. For allowing me to do the things I do. Not many Passives get to venture beyond the walls of the city and experience new environments. Places like this. It can be dangerous, I know. But I also know that I am safe with you, no matter what. Others don’t get to see what I see. And I only get to experience these things thanks to you. So, thank you.”

Zayne didn’t respond verbally, at first. However, his arms did tighten around him. One arm wounding tightly against the small of his back, pulling his body closer to his. He then slipped his fingers of his other hand through his hair. With his fingers gentle carding through Eishirou’s hair, Zayne lowered his head to whisper something into his ear.

“Eishirou…I need to tell you something.”

The way Zayne’s warm breath hit the side of his neck caused Eishirou to unwittingly shiver. And a strange, fluttering feeling to appear in the pit of his stomach. “Hm?”

“It’s-” The sound of someone sneezing loudly outside interrupted whatever Zayne was about to say. In annoyance, he sharply turned his head to look over his shoulder toward the entrance of their tent. A motion that caused Eishirou to feel a great sense of disappointment from…something.

“Never mind,” Zayne muttered as he turned back to glance down at Eishirou, whom he still held tightly in his arms. “It can wait.”

“Are you sure?”

Zayne smiled warmly, gently down at him. “Yeah. We’ll talk when we return home. For now, get some sleep.”

“Ok,” Eishirou returned.

Zayne then loosened his arms around him. And Eishirou took a step back and over toward the cot occupying one side of the tent.

He dropped his bag to the ground next to his bed and felt a frown tug at his lips. There was that feeling of disappointment again. The warmth of Zayne’s arms was consuming yet comforting. And to be pulled from them, even by his own accord, felt wrong in some way.

He didn’t have the state of mind to ponder that, however. The painkillers had well and truly kicked in now. And the only reason he hadn’t fallen asleep was that he was standing upright. He was certain that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he would be asleep.

So, without another word, he slipped onto the cot and laid down onto his side.

Just before he fell asleep, he felt something brush against his cheek. It was a hand. Zayne’s hand. He was sure of it. And it made him smile.

… … … … …

A gentle, but urgent hand touching the side of his face awoke Eishirou from his sleep. His eyes fluttered open, though it was a difficult thing to do. All he wanted was to close his eyes and fall back to sleep.

“Eishirou, wake up.”

But the urgency in Zayne’s voice forced him to push through the need to sleep and to open his eyes. It was still night. The tent was dark, saved for the subtle glow of the campfire through the nylon shelter.

“Hm? Wha-?”

Zayne suddenly pressed the pad of his thumb against Eishirou’s lips to silence him. “Shh. Grab your bag. We need to sneak out. We’ve been followed.”

F-followed?

[surveillance-0011]

Misc Binding of Isaac headcanons bc why not

tw/cw: mentions death and disease. Also, spoilers for Repentance. 

There is usually only one (or two?) of each sin expect Greed. There are so quite a few Greeds, but there is one who is considered the true “Greed”. There is one of each super sin. Maybe, somewhere else in the world, there is a whole civilization of sins...

All Greeds act like shifty, charismatic salesmen or mobsters.

Ultra Greed is the Keeper’s father. He is a standalone being, and he acts like a caricature of a mob boss.

Unlike Ultra Greed, the Ultra Horsemen are the same normal Horsemen, just with a power boost in order to truly challenge Isaac. When the Apocalypse actually rolls around, they’ll be even more powerful.

Lazarus is a hypochondriac and absolutely terrified of germs, sickness, and anything unsanitary. He’s also really skeeved out by blood.

He hates and fears any really gross enemy, but the one he fears the most would be Pestilence.

Cain speaks with a lisp.

Isaac and Cain are best buds, even though Isaac disapproves of his pal’s kleptomaniac tendencies.

Magdalene is pretty much everything Isaac wants to be in terms of morality and character. She’s like an older sister to him (she’s a few years older)

Isaac is 5, Cain is 5 or 6, Magdalene is anywhere from 7-10, Jacob and Esau are anywhere from 4-6. Apollyon is 10-12.

Bethany is and Eve are both 12. Judas, Samson, Azazel and Laz around 13 or 14. Lilith is the oldest, being 15 or 16.

Eden, ???, the Lost, The Keeper and The Forgotten are all Isaac’s age, if not a bit older or yonger.

Famine has a crush on Siren.

Hornfel and Siren are pals.

Conquest woke up on the autopsy table, pretty much right after the procedure was finished. Any memory of what life was like before that is extremely fuzzy, though there are a few things he’s sure of.

If War is severely injured or significantly distressed, he can combust.

Each Horseman has their own dwelling, hidden away either in lower levels or elsewhere. The complexity and luxury of these places vary. 

Everyone, humans and monsters alike, dislike Delirium. They’re a social pariah due to their volatile nature and the fact they like to use their abilities to inconvenience or harm others regardless of status.

Not many are aware of Dogma’s existence. Only a select few know...

[kickingasssince98]

Philidia Amaryllis Gwyddien

(My OC from the "Harry Potter — Hogwarts Mystery" mobile game)

Biographical Information

🔮 Gender: Female ♀️ (she/ her)

🔮 Hair length: Long

🔮 Hair color: Red (natural), Black (using magic)

🔮 Eye color: Golden-Brown

🔮 Skin color: Light

🔮 Born: Friday, 13th August 1971 in Transylvania, Romania

🔮 Nationality: Irish-Romanian

🔮 Species: Human

🔮 Blood Status: Pure-Blood

🔮 Marital Status: Married

🔮 Also known as:

Curse-Braker (by Skye Parkin and André Egwu)

The Hero of Hogwarts (by Penny Haywood)

The Clobberer of Curses and The Pulverizer of Polar Platemail (by Bill Weasley)

New Fan (by fellow student, "Face Paint Kid")

Breaker of Records (by Orion Amari)

Broom-Balancing Phenomenon (by Murphy McNully)

Pip (by her elder brother, Jacob Gwyddien)

Amaryllis (by her mother)

🔮 Titles:

Head Girl 🎖️

Slytherin Prefect 🏅

Captain of the Slytherin's Quidditch Team🥇

Chaser

Beater

Keeper

Seeker

The All-Wizards Victor 🏆

One of the Founders and Leader of Circle of Khanna

Relationship Information

💜 Family Members:

Carina Gwyddien [née: Aracnid (mother), former Slytherin student]

Peregrine Gwyddien (father, former Slytherin student)

Jacob Alasdair Gwyddien (elder brother, Slytherin)

Merula Gwyddien [née: Snyde (sister-in-law)]

Felix Rosier (ex-fiancé) ✝️

Barnaby Lee (husband)

Maia Felicia Gwyddien-Lee (daughter, Ravenclaw)

Rowan Malleus Lyndon Lee (son, Ravenclaw)

Belladonna "Donna" Willa Nymphadora Lee (daughter, Slytherin)

Asphodel "Dell" Charles Remus Lee (son, Slytherin)

Ceron Gwyddien (paternal grandfather, former Ravenclaw student)

Norma Gwyddien [née: Fawley (paternal grandmother, former Hufflepuff student)]

Marius Aracnid (maternal grandfather, former Slytherin student)

Electra Aracnid [née: Yaxley (maternal grandmother, former Slytherin student)]

Nephews and nieces

Relatives in America

💜 Friends:

Rowan Khanna (bff) ✝️

Ben Copper (bff)

Penny Haywood (bff, the godmother of her daughter, Maia Gwyddien)

Beatrice Haywood

Chiara Lobosca (bff, the godmother of her son, Rowan Lee)

Jae Kim (bff)

Bill Weasley (bff)

Fleur Weasley (née: Delacour)

Charlie Weasley (ex-flame, bff, the godfather of her twins, Donna and Dell Lee)

Fred Weasley ✝️

George Weasley

Molly Weasley

Arthur Weasley

Nymphadora Tonks (bff) ✝️

Remus Lupin ✝️

Skye Parkin (bff)

Murphy McNully (bff)

Badeea Ali (bff)

Liz Tuttle (bff)

Orion Amari (bff)

André Egwu (bff)

Jules Egwu

Tulip Karasu (bff)

Mary Karasu

Rosa Karasu

Erika Rath

Diego Caplan

Ismelda Copper (née: Murk)

Wilfred Levi Kidd

Chester Davies

Rubeus Hagrid

Victor Katsueki

Alanza Alves

Myron Wagtail

Orsino Thruston

Kirley Duke

Amos Diggory

Cedric Diggory ✝️

Dobby ✝️

Alistair "Mad-Eye" Moody ✝️

Magical Characteristics

✨ Animagus form: Peregrine Falcon 🦅

✨ Natural magical talent as:

Legilimens

✨ Boggart: The Dark Lord

✨ Wand:

11 1/4" Blackthorn, Unicorn Tail Hair (formerly)

12" Laurel, Phoenix Feather

✨ Patronus: Abraxan 🐎

Affiliation

⚜️ Loyalty:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin House 🐍

Circle of Khanna

Slug Club

Sphinx Club (formerly)

Dragon Club (formerly)

Hippogriff Club (formerly)

Trivia

🦄 She attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry between years 1984-1991.

🦄 An academically strong student, she quickly achieved such good results in her schoolwork that she received praise from most of her teachers, with Professor Albus Dumbledore, arguably the greatest wizard of all time, openly acknowledging her magical prowess to be exemplary. She demonstrated tremendous ability and proved a cleverer student than most of her classmates, quickly mastering and becoming the best in most of the fields of magic taught at Hogwarts. Her formidable magical power allowed her to achieve O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in all her choosed subjects.

🦄 She's skilled in casting nonverbal spells.

🦄 Fashion addict – always seen rocking elegant and glamorous haute couture outfits commisioned from her favorite style-wizard, bff, and former classmate, André Egwu.

🦄 She had adopted a big menagerie of animals and magical creatures: a grey Angora cat named Leila; a Niffler named Galleondigger, a Porlock named Thaddeus, a Fairy named Vanity, an Abraxan, a Chimera, a blue arrow frog (a gift from her former classmate and bff, Tulip Karasu), a Crup, a Mountain Troll and s.o.

🦄 Her favorite colours are black, sapphire blue, burgundy, purple and emerald green.

🦄 Introvert, though she makes friends easily due to her charming nature.

🦄 Book worm.

🦄 Loyal to a fault and ambitious until the very end. In true Slytherin style, If she really wants something, she's going to get it or die trying, there's no in between.

🦄 She lived in close proximity to Muggle dwellings, but she showed little knowledge of muggle life as an adolescent and have had limited interaction with her neighbour's back in her childhood years.

🦄 Though her parents came from wealthy families of pure-bloods, her mother raised her and her sibling in a laid back environment, teaching them to be down to earth and non-judgmental towards muggle-borns or half-bloods.

🦄 Her maternal grandparents were famous Death Eaters and they were imprisoned to Azkaban long before her elder brother Jacob's first year at Hogwarts, a couple of months after Philidia's birth. It's an unspoken rule in her family to never mention them in front of other people, afraid that their known allegiance might cause bad repercussions for the Gwyddiens.

🦄 Even though Philidia descend from two long lines of pure-blood wizards and witches (her maternal and paternal grandmothers descend from the British clans Fawley and Yaxley respectively), her family is not mentioned in the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" – the Directory of the twenty-eight British families that were considered still truly pure-blood by the 1930s. Her clan is much more well-known in their countries of origin, Ireland and Romania.

🦄 Sportive and athletic. She has a natural raw talent for Quidditch, showing fast reflexes, speed, agility and precision, according to the Quidditch royalty, bff and former house mate, Skye Parkin, who helped her train for the Slytherin's vacant position as a Chaser back in their second year of school at Hogwarts.

🦄 She's a fast learner.

🦄 Has a very strong sense of humor and likes to make people around her laugh with her funny, witty and sarcastic remarks.

🦄 She likes to keep tiny souvenirs from people who are important to her or from those who had had an important impact on her life, doesn't matter is a trinket of some sorts, like her children baby toys or her late best friend Rowan's old eyeglasses; beautiful artifacts, like the exquisite wizard's chessboard from Professor McGonagall; an hourglass pendant necklace received as a gift from Professor Horace Slughorn when he made her member of his exclusivist Slug Club or the "I like you. Do you like me? Yes or no. Circle your answer" message on a crumpled piece of paper she had written for Barnaby on their 4th year of school, before they started dating.

🦄 Proud bisexual.

🦄 Calm, resourceful and calculated.

🦄 Rebel and unwilling to fallow the rules if they don't match with her beliefs.

🦄 People used to believe she's one of the Weasley's children because of her ginger hair, a thing that Bill, Charlie, the twins and herself found to be absolutely hilarious.

🦄 She had had several secret crushes in her youth. On the former captain of her Quidditch house team, Orion Amari, on her former house prefect, Felix Rosier, on Alanza Alves (an exchange student from Castelobruxo) and on Bill & Charlie Weasley.

🦄 After graduation, she had played for a season as a professional Seeker for the all-witch Quidditch team Holyhead Harpies, then she joined Skye Parkin and Orion Amari as a Chaser for Wigtown Wanderers for almost three seasons, before she retired due to her first pregnancy, but she came back to her position a year after the ending of the Second Wizarding War.

🦄 She had refused to wed the father of her first daughter, Maia, because he had chosen to walk on his father's footsteps and joined the Death Eaters when Voldemort returned. Later, Felix choose to change his convictions for the sake of Philidia's love, but he was unexpectedly killed by his cousin, Evan Rosier, for betraying their clan and the Dark Lord.

🦄 After his death, she took her baby daughter and fled to Romania to live with her mother in her old family mansion.

🦄 She eventually married her high school sweetheart, Barnaby, having three more children together, two sons and one daughter.

🦄 She became one of the most famous Curse-Beakers of the Wizarding World and started a career in politics, being the youngest witch expected to become the next British Minister of Magic before the age of 30.

[mediaevalmusereads]

Prince of Mist. By Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Translated by Lucia Graves. New York: Little, Brown Books, 2010 (Spanish edition published 1993).

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: YA horror, supernatural, Gothic fiction

Part of a Series? Yes, Niebla #1

Summary: It’s wartime, and the Carver family decides to leave the capital where they live and move to a small coastal village where they’ve recently bought a home. But from the minute they cross the threshold, strange things begin to happen. In that mysterious house there still lurks the spirit of Jacob, the previous owners’ son, who died by drowning. With the help of their new friend Roland, Max and Alicia Carver begin to explore the suspicious circumstances of that death and discover the existence of a mysterious being called The Prince of Mist—a diabolical character who has returned from the shadows to collect on a debt from the past. Soon the three friends find themselves caught up in an adventure of sunken ships and an enchanted stone garden, which will change their lives forever.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: violence, blood, drowning, clowns

Overview: I adored Zafon’s The Shadow of the Wind and Marina, but this book fell kind of flat for me. To be fair, Prince of Mist was Zafon’s first book, and he has grown and improved as an author since this book’s publication in 1993, but still. I didn’t quite love this one as much as his other work. The passive characters, lack of atmosphere, and absence of a strong, central theme made me feel like I was reading a book without real substance, though there were enough interesting images and creepy moments for me to give this book 3 stars.

Writing: Zafon’s prose is usually incredibly atmospheric, and though I got some of that out of this book, overall, Prince of Mist seemed to be lacking. I really wanted Zafon to lean more into the unsettling environment of the seaside town - perhaps by making it feel uncanny, or by making things feel deceptively peaceful. I also would have liked Zafon to hang back a little more on the telling and instead showing the reader the significance of certain events.

Plot: The main plot of this novel involves Max and his older sister, Alicia, figuring out what happened to Jacob - the son of the previous owners of their house - who supposedly drowned a number of years earlier. At first, I thought this book was going to be about ghosts or a haunted house, but it’s more about the creepiness of the ocean nearby. This is all well and good - the ocean can be terrifying. However, I ultimately felt like I was waiting for random spooky things to happen, rather than characters gradually solving a mystery and creepy things happening along the way. Supernatural events seemed to have no real connection to each other - they happened to mainly insert a spooky scene here and there, without really pointing to a reason why the spooky thing is happening here and now. For example, there’s a scene when Max visits a graveyard, and spooky things happen, but we’re not really told why. Does the Prince of Mist want to prevent Max from learning a secret buried in the graveyard? We never find out.

Also, I felt like a lot of backstory and rationale for the spooky things is dumped on us through one character’s extended monologues, rather than revealed over time by characters uncovering secrets and piecing together a story. This made the characters seem somewhat passive - Max and Alicia mostly had to wait for information to be revealed to them, rather than drawing their own conclusions. I would have rather seen Max put together the story himself, perhaps by watching all of the mysterious home films he found, perhaps by checking out the graveyard in more detail. Something more than just depending on the lighthouse keeper to tell him what everything means.

Characters: Max, our primary protagonist, is a likeable 13 year old boy, but ultimately doesn’t have much development. He seems smart, but doesn’t actually piece together much himself; instead he relies on other characters to tell him what to make of certain information. I did like that he was brave and did things even when he admitted to being scared. That much was admirable, and I wish Zafon had made that part of his character development.

Alicia, Max’s sister, is also around a lot but mainly exists to be a damsel in distress towards the end of the book. She does much less than her brother, and I felt like she and Max could have been combined into one character for a stronger story.

Roland, the boy that the siblings meet by the sea, is also fairly likeable in that he’s adventurous and friendly, but again, he doesn’t really develop much. I think I would have liked to see him be more self-centered and egotistical so that his act towards the end of the book would have been more impactful.

Max and Alicia’s family - their parents and younger sister, Irina - seem to exist just to be absent, and by that I mean Zafon had to give a plausible reason for why the parents aren’t around while all the spooky shenanigans are happening, so he wrote the rest of the family in only to have them spend most of the book at the hospital. While I think the rest of the Carver family is charming, I think their absence was too painfully obvious.

Rolan’s grandfather, Victor Kray the lighthouse keeper, was also likeable but existed mainly for infodumps. His backstory is sad, and I think the way he tells it is moving, but he didn’t have much of a role other than to dole out information.

The Prince of Mist was perhaps the most disappointing character in that he didn’t have nearly as complex a motivation as some of the antagonists in Zafon’s other works. Because the Prince of Mist isn’t seen directly for most of the book, he feels like a boogeyman more than an actual threat (even though we learn that he does have the ability to harm people). I would have liked Zafon’s story to hammer home a central message or theme that the Prince of Mist embodies: in Marina, the theme was about extending life beyond its natural boundaries, and the antagonist showed how that could be a bad thing. If the Prince of Mist was something like a stand-in for greed or some other concept, then the other characters and their arcs could have lined up with that and we would have gotten a more compelling narrative.

TL;DR: Prince of Mist is a spooky but disappointing novel that fails to stick with readers due to its passive characters and lack of strong theme. While it had enough creepy imagery to keep readers entertained, it’s ultimately one of the weaker examples of Zafon’s writing.