[ With the harpy in her panicked and half-thinking state, it’s very easy for Mukuro to catch Riley, like she’s a linebacker on the football field instead of a cheerleader. Even as her one free set of claws swipes at the air furiously, her own screeches almost too distant for her ears to hear, she can’t break free of Mukuro’s grasp. Can’t not listen to those soothing words. Can’t stop gasping, choking on her own poison. Familiar, familiar, all so familiar, just breathe Riley, I got you shifting and swirling to a lower voice, different voice, you don’t have to apologize to you’re going to hate me, but that was a dream—
And suddenly, it’s gone. The support, the kindness, because suddenly Mukuro’s taking Celeste away, and she’s left alone in the silence, with just her own distant gasps to keep her company.
See what happens when they know?
Her gasps and the usual poison, directed inward now that there’s nowhere to spit it. Every positive example—Giorno, Eridanus, Atem despite the assumed betrayal, Cersei who’s gone, gone now—falls away. Her claws curl into her arm, tighter, tighter, though she doesn’t know if she can feel it. It doesn’t matter that Celeste doesn’t like her, has never liked her. It doesn’t matter that Celeste seems determined to cut and push her, every conversation they have. All Riley can think, curled on the floor of her apartment, waiting for the world to end, is that this is what she’s supposed to be, and everyone will treat her like that, when they know.
Broken little monster. Never could’ve been good enough. Shouldn't try. Just kill them, you don’t need—
She can barely breathe as she curls in on herself, just a ball of feathers in an empty room. ]
cw: dissociation, panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, homicidal ideation, just in general bad
And suddenly, it’s gone. The support, the kindness, because suddenly Mukuro’s taking Celeste away, and she’s left alone in the silence, with just her own distant gasps to keep her company.
See what happens when they know?
Her gasps and the usual poison, directed inward now that there’s nowhere to spit it. Every positive example—Giorno, Eridanus, Atem despite the assumed betrayal, Cersei who’s gone, gone now—falls away. Her claws curl into her arm, tighter, tighter, though she doesn’t know if she can feel it. It doesn’t matter that Celeste doesn’t like her, has never liked her. It doesn’t matter that Celeste seems determined to cut and push her, every conversation they have. All Riley can think, curled on the floor of her apartment, waiting for the world to end, is that this is what she’s supposed to be, and everyone will treat her like that, when they know.
Broken little monster. Never could’ve been good enough. Shouldn't try. Just kill them, you don’t need—
She can barely breathe as she curls in on herself, just a ball of feathers in an empty room. ]