[PQ] hope as fragile as a rose

shed every skin that doesn't fit even if they call you cold-blooded

unhinge your jaw —

Never before has the Harpy lost every sense of control. And despite everything she’s lived through and done, pacts with gods, with worlds and monsters and demons, this is what scares her the most. She doesn’t want to harm the ones she loves the most. She doesn’t want to do any of it. And yet here she is, blighted and sick and terrified, tears of black streaming down her face at the realization. She doesn’t know what she could do to make up for it, to change it.

All she knows is she must suffer.

It’s what she does best, after all.

So when Amalia brings Jigano over to her, the Harpy and her trembling hands reach for them, curling up as feathers sprout from her spine and shoulders in black, red, and white. She hears Jigano’s decree, hears Amalia’s own confession, feels the wing of Deimos as he touched her arm, and all she can do is continue to cry — unable to catch her breath, hiccuping pitifully.

Would they ever forgive her for such a thing?

— go for the throat

KIADA