#bedevile

@bedevile​       𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 ,        "      𝘪   𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴   𝘪   𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦   𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥    𝘺𝘰𝘶.    "

emotions   are   going         haywire         from   long   awaited   reunion.               anger,         relief,         heartache               all   stirring   within   his   gut.            so   much   time   has   passed.         so   much   time   spent   following         a   bread   crumb   trail            to   find   a   person   that   appeared   as   if   they   didn’t   want   to   be   found.            tears   begin   to   sting   at   the   corner   of   his   eyes,         expression   contorted,            and   mouth   pulled   in   a   frown.            it   had   once   occurred   to   him   that   he   might   never   find   mattie.      or   that,      if   he   did,      all   that   might   be   left   was            a   corpse.               

it   never   truly   occurred   to   him   what   he   would   do   if   his   friend   was   found   alive.            there   are   a   few      things   he         wants            to   do:         embrace   him   or   punch   him.               would   affection   or   wrath   win   out?            the   young   man   shifts   from   one   foot   to   the   other,         contemplating,         before   the   other’s   words   chooses   for   him.               “            you   think?               y-you   asshole!         “            one   can   only   take   so   much   before            they   snap.                  he   moves   forward,         hands   pressing   against   mattie’s   shoulders,      aiming   to   shove   the   other   backwards   a   bit.            

HYBRIDS !

❛      IF   NO   ONE   HAS   SAID   THIS    to   you   today   then   i’ll   be   the   first     :      i’m   proud   of   you      &      that   you   are   gonna   do   some   great   things   in   your   life      .      ❜

ith tries to avoid mallory as much as humanly possible but then ngl feels bad and is like ok i guess i should help him? learns to like him more despite him acting like a sullen, wet sock.

i just know these two study together . maybe even party together if hes into doing that sort of thing . either way she likes to poke fun at him no matter what.

every   word   uttered   and   action   taken   is   part   of            a   con.            anything   genuine   died   along   with   the   warlock   boy   who   was   discovered   roaming   the   streets   centuries   ago.      the   world            twisted   him,            gutted   him   inside   out.         they   saw   a   monster   and   so   they   produced   one.            the   garden   is   not   yet   opened   to   the   public,         although   it   is   drawing   close   to   that   time.            midnight                                    when   all   the   beasts   come   out   to   play.         he   shows   the   vampire   in,         pride   beaming.         all   the   sacrifices   made   and   battles   fought   led   to   this,         his   greatest   accomplishment,            a   safe   haven            for   those   seen   as   unworthy   by   mortal   eyes.         they   end   up   by   the   bar.         bela,         the   demoness   bartender   places   usual   bourbon   in   front   of   him,         then   raises   brows   towards   the   other.         all   that   is   needed   is   a   flick   of   wrist   to   shoo   her   away.      

hands sit on either side of the crown on his head, fingers crossing together one by one as he leans forward in the chair he’d found himself in, exhausted and hungry after work.  eyes burn through the darkness that surrounds him.  he misses the light.  darkness has become something heavy in his heart.  he misses the boat.  he misses fishing.  he misses the simplicity of dragging his feet through the dirt roads of a tiny island.

he misses the light.

it’s simply not something he could ever talk to warren about.  his little brother who has gone off into the world to experience what it has to offer.  warren is an adult now.  warren is gone.  he hopes, for warren’s sake, he never wanders back.

he’s had years without the sun, pale skin growing only paler as it loses the ability to feel radiation and brightness.  eyes sink further in with each passing day.  perhaps his journey into being undead is simply one of someone DYING a little more each day.  he knows he could end it all.  so simply.  he listened to the screams that told him his worst fears were real.  he lost nearly everyone.

he’s found himself alone in a prison cell again, but this time he isn’t sentenced to 4-10 with a good chance of parole.  this is a life sentence.  what is he guilty of?

surviving.

perhaps he shouldn’t walk home.  he begins to, dragging his feet with each step.  but if he walks slow enough the sun will begin to rise.  the sunglasses press over his eyes, recognizing the irony of hiding the one feature that shows off who he is, while thinking of burning alive in the sun.  there’s still hours left.  he’d have to wander so, so slowly. . .

and then he sees him.  across the way.  a boy no older than his brother, who’s neck no longer BEATS with the rhythm of his heart.  much the way pruitt would stand away to understand the glow of each human who passed him, riley stands now with hands in his pockets to see him.  something in him says it before his mind can think it.  he’s walking toward him and he doesn’t stop until he can see the way his eyes sink too.