o god,

what do i do after all this survival?

[dievout]

DIEVOUT ♱ a deep dive into losing people you love, being plagued with endless grief and guilt, the hurt that encompasses it all and what it means to be at peace with death and everything it takes from you. god might be here too, silently observing marrow — he just isn’t responding! a private, dependent muse blog as written by kon for itshoco.

elijah husaini, thirty-four, remnant, he/him pinterest. threads. muse.

[autohalo]

ᯓ      closed      starter      —      for      elijah      @dievout      ｡ 

curiosity  killed  the  cat,  and  talya  is  evidently  hellbent  on  finding  out  what  kills  the  vampire.   she  is  fixated  on  the  man  in  front  of  her;   the  town’s  gravedigger,   from  what  she  had  gathered.   a  gatekeeper  of  the  dead  in  his  own  right;   a  button  to  be  pushed  in  her  own  intrigue.   “tell  me,”   well  versed  in  moving  through  the  shadows,   she’s  invaded  his  space  in  moments.   “what’s  it  like  to  know  that  part  of  the  cemetery  is  empty  now?”

[dievout]

His anger flares up almost immediately, and not for the first time he thinks: what is wrong with these people? How they poked and prodded around needlessly just felt vile when Elijah can tell they barely cared for those of them in Marrow. And the fact that they were Father Romero’s little tagalongs made all their casual cruelty worse.  The more he interacted with any of them, the more whatever respect he’d managed to scrounge up for the priest plummeted.

The one in front of him is curious, she says—as if he believed any of it for a second. Jaw tightening, he forces his voice to be level when he spits out, “No thanks.” His lip curls. While he doesn’t appreciate how close they’ve gotten, he stays still, gaze fixed on her. “I don’t think you’d get it.”

[dethtrap-deactivated20260102]

starter 4 @dievout !

where : cedar ridge cemetery. what a familiar place ! wink, wink.

the  situation  has  gotten  so  bad  that  nikolai  is  considering  reading  some  nonfiction.     can't  tell  if  it's  personal  paranoia  convincing  him  that  so  many  people  are  acting  off,  or  if  it's  genuinely  true.  maybe  that's  why  he  drags  his  feet  here,  seeking  something  that  feels  normal.  perhaps  he  comes  for  confirmation,  too.  if  elijah  is  being  strange,  then  it  can't  be  his  imagination.  he  makes  a  pillar  of  the  older  and  prays  it  stands  strong.  there's  a  pack  of  cigarettes  weighing  heavy  in  his  pocket  that  he  doesn't  take  out  until  he's  standing  right  before  elijah.  no  greeting.  just  an  offering.  “  do  you  really  have  to  be  out  here  if  there's  no  graves  to  dig  today  ?  ”

[dievout]

Almost done with his current cigarette, Elijah considers if he should smoke another. It’s a terrible habit he has yet to kick, but he doesn’t think he could do without any crutches with the current situation in Marrow. He’s in the middle of extinguishing it when Nikolai walks up to him, offering him another. Elijah looks at Nikolai, then at the open pack, pocketing the stub.

Harder to get rid of the habit when people just offer him one when he’s already thinking about it, he thinks. Like all bad habits (or more accurately: addiction), however, Elijah eventually caves and reaches out for one.

“Just felt like it,” comes his answer after he takes his first drag. He doesn’t elaborate. How do you even start to explain that at one point, at least one person would drop dead every single day in Marrow? That he would wake up with a heavy heart, knowing all his prayers have gone unanswered? Night or day didn’t matter—his days either started or ended in the cemetery. 

Calling it a routine might even be understating just how many times he had to grab a shovel to prepare a grave. It goes without saying that even now, with the death toll somehow decreasing, his feet just lead him here. 

Maybe this too is another habit to get rid of.

“You’ve got no graves to dig either and you’re here.” Through puffs of smoke, Elijah studies Nikolai, frowning. How uncanny; just a few months ago he was dead to be buried, and now he’s alive at the very same place… Talking to him. “God knows what made you come. No cars to fix?”

[exceisisdeo]

closed starter for @dievout (elijah) 📍 ???

everything is too sudden. 

the house is too full, too crowded, too loud. suddenly simeon is real again, and he has to act as if his bent-neck ghost had never stood in the middle of their living room before, staring at him with that sorrowful look in his puppy-like eyes. 

why did you leave me—

ian picks up his pace, gravel crackling under the thick soles of his shoes. he can’t be in their house, anywhere’s fine as long as it’s not home.

so when he spotted a familiar figure strolling with a dog by their side, ian released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“mind if i join you?”

[dievout]

Maze barks at Ian, noticing and welcoming his presence before Elijah does. He pats her head to calm her down, staring at the other man.  “She already agreed, so,” he shrugs, nodding towards the empty space beside him. “Feel free.” It’s barely out of pity, though he recognises the forlornness in Ian to be familiar. As if it’s his own. A beat of silence passes. Giving Ian a cursory once-over, he simply asks, “…Husband?” 

[dethtrap-deactivated20260102]

starter 4 @dievout !

where : olive branch park. if elijah is hoping for some rest, it will not come while this one is around.

“  grave  digger.  ”    was  it  polite  to  refer  to  someone  as  their  occupation  ?  not  that  silas  cared  about  being  polite,  with  the  way  they  stop  in  front  of  elijah,  cutting  him  off  from  wherever  he  was  going.  no  apology  is  offered.  “  you  look  suitably  morose  for  the  job.  ”  everyone  in  marrow  seemed  to  give  off  the  stench  of  misery.  it  might  have  been  the  grief,  but  fuck.  silas  was  starting  to  think  the  small  town  air  simply  brought  out  the  worst  in  everyone  around  them.  “  how  does  one  earn  such  an  occupation  in  this  tiny  place  ?  small  enough  that  people  could  dig  their  own  graves.  ”  and  dig  out  of  them,  apparently.

[dievout]

For someone who accompanied Father Romero into Marrow, this one must have learned his manners in a barn. Birds of a feather may flock together, but Elijah’s of the opinion that picking Silas up and allowing them to follow him into Marrow had to be some act of charity on Father Romero’s part. His steps slow down, coming to an eventual halt. Marrow must not be the right fit for them if he’s trying to taunt Elijah of all people. He only blinks in response, unfazed by the lack of decorum. Rather, it’s almost amusing to see someone try to get a rise out of him. “And you’re asking because you’re interested in digging graves in ‘this tiny place’, like you said?” Elijah asks dryly, giving Silas a once over. “You think you’re up for that?” With what arms?

[shaketothesin]

not a lot intimidated ayana, but elijah did. it was easy to be confident in the face of small town pleasantries, but elijah seemed to care even less for them than she did, and she wasn't sure how else to manage an interaction without purposefully trying to subvert it. there was no hidden meaning to discover here, besides a thin veneer of politeness. it made her feel like a little kid in trouble with her teacher. "i can try to help," she offered, not sure what else to do. "i can get paper towels? wet ones? is that—" she looked down at his boots, squinting. "those can get wet, right? the material?"

[dievout]

“Just get me whatever,” he interjects carelessly, eyes narrowing. Her consideration is admirable, even if it caused him to simply stand there, waiting for her to finish fussing over it. It doesn’t change the fact that there’s still mashed potato on his boots, though. Wet towels or not, he just wanted to get the slop off. Maybe properly clean it once he got home, it’d been long overdue for a wash anyhow. Elijah just never got around to it because of… Well, everything that happened. “Considering that it’s already covered with mashed potatoes, I don’t think that it matters much if it gets wet.”

[autohalo]

startled by an unexpected guest,  aspen flinches and sends her phone to the floor with a totally heartbreaking clatter.  she winces as it slides to a stop,  sheepishly looking over to the person attached to the noise that startled her.  the shift in her demeanor is almost instant,  ❝  elijah!  ❞  there's a comforting familiarity that comes with his presence:  like she's a child pestering the new guy in town again,  rather than an adult facing the weight of a thousand stares.   ❝  god,  it's so good to see someone normal.  you're not gonna act like i've done something to forsake all of marrow too,  are you?  ❞  a pause as she considers her options.  ❝  i mean…  have you heard anyone talking about me? you'd tell me if they were, right?  ❞

[dievout]

“Aspen,” he nods, basic call and response. Elijah already regrets making his presence known—he didn’t come here to get his ear talked off. But he reasons, this is better than listening to whatever thoughts he shouldn’t be privy to. Blinking, her question gives him pause because in all truth, he hadn’t been any different from any of them. The only thing was, he wasn’t as obvious about it. 

“I don’t participate in idle talk.” Would Elijah say he was on the receiving end of gossip at times? Sure, but it does not bode well for him to spread it around. Least of all, if it was disparaging anyone in particular. His gaze flickers to her face, lips flattening. He slowly considers it. “…if I told you, what would you do to them?”

[charl0ttan]

i swear my consequences dont even have actions

[ofprodigalsons]

he scoffs, taking a long drag before bothering to reply. "come on, man. live a little." gabe gives the other a game smile, considers whether or not he'd be able to get away with flicking some ash into the baptismal font in front of marrow's resident grave digger. he decides not to test his luck and pulls himself up onto the altar and then picks his way over to the pulpit. looking out over the empty pews, he wondered what father michaels used to see when he stood up here. surely, he'd have been able to tell gabe never paid attention. did he know that little gabe liked to try and figure out just who would die if the light fixtures came crashing down? had he seen him making faces at poppy or recognized when he and whitney had missed sunday service because they'd spent the night camping and slept in? it was strange, being back here. he pulled his attention and his gaze back to elijah, shaking off the memories and the ghosts that came with them. "what are you doing in here anyway? not hungry?"

[dievout]

Of everybody in Marrow, Elijah barely knew Gabriel. He’s heard about him in bits and pieces, of course, but that’s hardly any way to know someone. The way some people talked, you’d think everyone in town was still a harmless kid, just doing their best. Watching as the other man continues to take another drag of his cigarette, blatant in his disregard, he begins to form his own opinion of Gabriel. Decidedly not another kid, just another self-important asshole. His lip curls in response, but he doesn’t rise up to the provocation.

He looks on as the guy goes up to the altar, still rooted to the ground. There’s something similar about their stories that he considers a little funny. The running away—though, the details couldn’t be any more different. For one, Elijah had never left anyone behind. Just ghosts, and the house that crumbled. How lucky he must be, to have people still welcome him back in spite of the 12 years that disappeared. New York wouldn’t offer Elijah the same grace with how fast the city moved. Something in him sours. It’s terrible, this creature that claws at his insides.

“You can only eat so much before it turns into gluttony,” he says, deadpan. Elijah fixes Gabriel with a stare, arching a brow. “And you’ve come into church to indulge in a cigarette?”

[autohalo]

ᯓ      open      starter      —      unlimited      replies      ｡  ᯓ      6:30      P.M.      ＠      santuary      church (indoors)      ｡

an   internal   investigation   is   in   order.   after   worming   her   way   into   a   third   table   and   having   everyone   fall   silent   for   a   third   time,   aspen's   had   enough.   she's   retreated   to   a   quiet   part   of   the   church   house,   nose   buried   in   her   phone.   ❝   i   mean,   realistically—   ❞   hums   of   her   inner   monologue   escape   into   a   room   she   thought   to   be   empty,   ❝   what   could   i   have   done?   ❞

[dievout]

He thought he had been alone, finally getting away from people—dead or alive. Clearly not, considering the few complaints he just heard (that probably weren’t meant for his ears). Imperceptibly, his jaw twitches. Really, why’d they decide on pretending nothing happened if they were gonna do a piss poor job at it anyway? Most of those who returned weren’t even that stupid… Unless they already were in the first place. Elijah clears his throat, uncomfortable that he has to announce his presence and disrupt her semblance of privacy.

[shaketothesin]

ayana hated being on edge, but at least it was for a familiar reason, this time; her mom wouldn't stop piling her plate with food. she was always so worried to offend by accidentally skipping over someone's pride and joy and ayana loved her too much to not humor her. unfortunately, that meant her plate was overflowing before she'd been able to get away, and that turned literal at the worst moment, mashed potatoes slopping off of her plate and onto someone's shoes. "fuck," she said, then quickly realized that was another mistake, hurrying to correct with, "no, i mean—sorry. i mean sorry. i'm so sorry."

[dievout]

His eyebrows furrow as the food spills onto his boots, stiffening slightly. It happens way too fast for him to process, looking down at his feet and then back to Ayana silently. She spews her apologies and Elijah can only hold back what would’ve been a beleaguered sigh. He has enough self-awareness to know what the scene looks like: a sullen, broody man towering over a super apologetic girl younger than him. Enough grace to understand that she’s probably on edge. A beat passes. “It’s fine,” he manages out, even though his face barely softens, “It’ll wash out.”

[ofprodigalsons]

this is a load of bullshit. gabe's been home back in marrow all of 48 hours and his skin is practically itching to get the fuck out of here. hilariously, he finds himself ducking inside the church, like he didn't abandon this place faster than he abandoned marrow itself. but watching people who were supposed to be dead walking around like nothing happened at all and the new faces trying to blend in like they belong. it's quieter in here and gabe knows all of the best hiding spots. he had his first kiss inside one of the confessional booths and hooked up with a girl on the altar during a class retreat, so there's some comfort in these hallowed halls. he walks down the center aisle and lights up a cigarette, even though that's probably frowned upon. he jumps at the voices. everything echoes in here. "shit. if you wanted one you could've asked."

[dievout]

Pretense doesn’t become him anymore than socialising does, so he enters the church as some sort of escape. He doesn’t think he can stomach one more second at the potluck anymore, whether it be eating or talking to other people. It’s exhausting enough trying to keep a hold of himself. His footsteps echo as he walks down the aisle, stilling as he hears the telltale sound of a lighter striking. Smells the familiar scent of cigarette smoke before he finds the cause. Now, Elijah’s no stickler for rules but at this moment, he finds himself giving Gabriel a withering stare. “…I don’t think I will,” he refuses, even if he’s itching for one. “You shouldn’t either, we’re in a church. Have some self-control.”

[friendlyghst]

📍   a random curb not far from the door's of sancutary church

🗝️   open  to  all ( no cap )

a  short  puff  of  a  sigh  from  casper's  lips  as  he  unceremoniously  lowers  his  body  onto  the  concrete  curb.  there's  a  lingering  throb  concentrated  behind  both  temples.  an  ongoing  ache  he  can't  subside  with  ibuprofen,  caffeine,  calories  or  sleep.  the  past  few  weeks  have  melded  into  a  blur  of  time  and  space,  the  ability  to  recount  his  exact  whereabouts  only a  haze.  however, the  feeling  all  together  different  than  the  swirl  of  his  brain  after  days  of  sleepless  nights  coding  through  a  particular  tough  work  sprint.  was  he  getting  sick  ?  there  was  no  time  for  that  in  his  schedule. "  oh  sorry  ...  am  i  in  your  way  ?  "  eyes  fixating  on  the  figure  approaching,  "  i  thought  i'd  be  out  of  the  way  here.  "

[dievout]

Away from the crowd, Elijah fishes a carton of cigarettes out of his jacket. He brings one to his lips and lights it, his back facing the potluck as it’s still happening. Marrow’s a fucking mess, he thinks, with all that’s happening. He’s only snapped out of his thoughts by an unexpected apology. “It’s barely a private spot,” he shrugs, as if part of the reason why he chose to be out here wasn’t the fact that it had been far enough from other company. There’s a small gap between them as he takes a seat on the curb. He takes a drag of his cigarette, then pauses. Glancing sideways at Casper with a delayed realisation, face only half-apologetic. “D’you mind?”

[dievout]

     𓉸     did  you  see  ELIJAH  HUSAINI  walking  around  BEAR PAW DINER ?  i  heard  that  the  34  year  old  has  been  particularly  GRUFF  since  the  loss  began,  which  is  a  shift  from  their  usual  show  of  RELIABLE.

FULL NAME: elijah olorunisola husaini  GENDER: cis man (he/him)  ETHNICITY: yoruba nigerian  DATE OF BIRTH: december 26th 1990, 34   HOMETOWN: queens, new york  CURRENT RESIDENCE: marrow, maine  OCCUPATION: grave digger  EDUCATION: high school diploma

FACECLAIM: damson idris  HAIR: black, kept short  EYES: dark brown  HEIGHT: 6’0” / 185cm  PIERCINGS: none  TATTOOS: none  SCARS: plenty

MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral  TEMPERAMENT: choleric  MBTI: istp, the virtuoso  ZODIAC: capricorn sun, aries moon, aries rising  TRAITS: calm, practical, disciplined, taciturn, superstitious, brusque, cynical, tense

questions

describe  your  initial  reaction  to  the  resurrection.

he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. it’s not something he likes to talk about or think about. not when it feels like a bad omen. elijah has spent so much of his life trying to accept death, that the resurrection feels a little like a mockery of all his efforts. the others, they’ve spun the entire thing into a gift of some sort but something about it feels wrong. “suspicion,” is the answer he settles on after the heavy silence, “i buried most of them with my own hands. it’s not… easy to see them walking around like nothing happened.”

the truth is much more complicated than that. not easy is when his shovel hits a rock and he has to spend his afternoon trying to remove it. seeing the person he loves back from the dead laughing like nothing happened? knowing in his head how wrong it is, yet faltering in their innocence? this is how the devil gets you: dangling temptation in your weakest hour. another one of god’s trials, no doubt – elijah thinks he’s had enough of those already – but it practically feels like torture trying to deny himself this one thing. “i tried to ask father romero but he…” he purses his lips, sucking his teeth, face hardening at the recollection. “never mind.”

select  a  virtue  &  sin.  relate  it  to  your  muse.

his virtue would be diligence while his sin would be wrath!

diligence: elijah works hard, maybe too hard, but it’s the only thing he knows how to do without being consumed by his thoughts. he may not be the friendliest face in marrow, but give him a task to do and he will complete it to the best of his abilities without complaint. good with his hands, used to help out at ray’s service center when he first arrived.

wrath: it is all contained within him, simmering under the surface. he is angry at a lot of things — god, the world, himself even. but he swallows it down too many times to count, until it feels like he can almost choke on it. it festers like an ugly wound, turns into bitterness, cynicism, among other things. sometimes elijah feels as if he has been angry for so long, he’s not sure anymore why but he’s forgotten what it’s like not to be.

overview

he had been a stranger in this town once. no one comes to marrow, they said, not without a reason. “i need a place to rest,” was his only reply, but they recognised the desperation he so badly tried to hide. they saw a weary man seeking salvation in someone who looked no different from a boy. elijah was only 18 when he ran away from it all: new york, his family’s ashes, the guilt of surviving.

he meant to go back. or at least, this is what he tells himself. this is only temporary, i plan to return to new york. to make himself a little bit better for leaving it all behind. but the days stretch into months too easily for that to be true. and then… and then… and then… until he settles down in marrow, welcomed into the fold as one of their own.

you have to admit the irony in having a name that means ‘it is god who gives grace’ yet feeling anything but. elijah confesses as such to father michaels one evening, tells him of his rage. where should i put all this down? father michaels does not judge him for being angry with god, only says he is hurt and hasn’t allowed himself to grieve. “you have to forgive yourself first, elijah.”

it’s not that the job feels right, it’s that it feels like atonement. that’s why he took the old man up on digging graves. keep his hands busy, so he doesn’t have to think of anything else. in his head, elijah is doing it for his family—they never had the option to be buried. he offers the grieving words he utters every night before bed: may they find peace with the lord, amen.

he gets inexorably busy before he knows it. it shouldn’t be possible, shouldn’t be happening and yet here he is digging graves. the grief is palpable in their town of marrow, and elijah has never felt anger as strongly as when he had to bury the family he’s made here without rest, father michaels included. grief is the old wound forced open again and again and again. 

elijah husaini knows of ghosts. has run away from them and kept them hidden, but he also knows it is in a ghost’s nature to haunt. the returned, however, is an entirely new beast he has yet to tackle. so he continues to pray, even if he’s not entirely sure if god is listening anymore.

headcanons

marrow’s resident morose grave digger <3

outrageously heavy smoker. can usually be found smoking a cigarette, says it helps with the stress. was told to quit or at the very least, cut back. made some attempt, but after the loss smokes at least a full pack a day.

was born in a religious household, named elijah olorunisola; elijah for “god is my lord” (biblical: english, hebrew), olorunisola for “it is god who gives grace” (yoruba). however… currently losing faith and questioning god.

owns a dog, a mutt that he adopted. named her maze, short for amazing grace. often walks with her around town.

wanted connections

none for now i will do my best to come up with ideas or die trying ❤️

[xialiuyi]

THE ROOKIE | 7.07 • The Mickey

[tvandfilm]

Past Lives (2023) dir. Celine Song

[wildspringday]

damson idris via instagram