Mateo. (@abalefulscion) header
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̷ ︎ 28. mdni.
Joined June 2025
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mateo. former gifted kid, on track to burn out and take the institution down with him.
That's why I came back home . Figured I might as well deal with the devil I know .
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DOES THE END JUSTIFY THE MEANS ﹖ this is process, there is no end, there are only means, each ones had better justify itself. to whom ﹖
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one night my dad and i sat side by side, staring up at the stars. and without hesitation, i whispered, “i don't think you’re a good person.” “and you are?” he asked quietly. “no. i’m too much like you for that.”
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( ……… squint. )
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i cannot seem to contort myself back into the shape of a dutiful child, i am coming unraveled, i am coming undone.
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( why does everyone look so tense these days )
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i’ll tell you why i spit on your forgiveness, i’ll tell you why i loathe your redemption. to reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you— and i am beneath nobody.
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Mateo. retweeted
you do this, you do. you take the things you love and tear them apart.
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Mateo. retweeted
how violent! it’s funny how some things never change.
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Mateo. retweeted
⠀do not pray anymore; the sky is deaf.
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When the devil swung his blade, the world fell silent in a breathless instant .
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⠀ 𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ; a solo . ⠀
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Mateo. retweeted
i am someone who did not die when i should have died.
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the moral of the story is, i will gut you if i need to. i will carve my way out with only my teeth.
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/ nothing beats a jet2 holiday
( his throat feels raw from all the coughing, and he's getting sick of the taste of blood . and he can't shake mateo's words from his mind . )
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( He allows himself to be seen leaving the vicinity of Illario’s Trevisan apartment. Even smirks, as he allows his Crow tail to catch a glimpse of his face when he drops off a ledge into an alley. He leads them on a wild-goose chase across the city, before slipping away again. )
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( @CR0WCHRYSALIS ) Even with half of their targets away on some Orlesian nightmare, sneaking into the Crow cells is no easy task. It takes a few days of careful planning, and a well timed distraction on the other side of the city for them to get in. Once he’s in, he heads to —
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the cell they’ve identified. Fingers brush along the bars, and he crouches down in front of them. Eyes on the prisoner on the other side. It’s a far cry from the bed they once shared, some years ago. “A Dellamorte in the cells. What a turn of events.” ——
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