crestal downfalls [ shingeki no kyojin ]

⌜ two ⌟

⌜ two ⌟

and as the aftertaste leaves a bitter tinge,
so does the afterglow leave a sweet fringe

TW: panic attacks, physical assault

— x —

IT'S A WICKED, CRUEL THING — how we are never aware of the consequences of our actions until we are finally made sentient, knowing that suffering from them can be as harrowing as having to accept the fact that our own unwitting faults and shortcomings are to blame.

But is it still so wicked when we ourselves commit these 'faults' and 'shortcomings' on purpose, just so we can utter a good lie?

When one speaks of a lie, think not of the godforsaken unease behind innocent grins dripping noontime daydreams and sunshine candour, especially not when that lie is told to oneself. Because that lie is a segment of the sinner's sinful wish: that they might be able to escape from the cataclysmic mistakes that reach out so desperately to to taint their frightened souls, and thinking of such unease makes it even harder to lie.

Think instead of the faint sliver of faith that 'everything is going to be just fine', of the positivity that counters the unforeseen despair imparted to all those who hope, and of the smile that knows only of the genuine passions and sincere intentions lacing every inch of the battle that strives to strip its warriors of their strengths, because that sincerity is what will end up saving their lives one day.

Astera does not know where to find that sincerity within herself because she lies. She lies to herself, again and again and again that she needs not worry about the unusually rapid pulsating motion that she feels beneath the pads of her fingers because everything is going to be just fine.

But Astera's intuition has not once failed her. Today, she feels as though there is such a weighty blockage preeminent within her burning chest which at present time, is being tightly clutched by feebly slender digits in an attempt to reign in the unexplainable affliction. The cloth that hugs her torso is crumpled now, but Astera can't care any less.

     Through the streets that are flagrant with havoc of the district they call Shiganshina, Astera and Nico venture with little to no talk exchanged between the both of them.

     If her intuition's telling her to be alert, then that's exactly what she's going to do. Because she does not intend on losing her younger brother any time soon.

     And as the aforementioned brother tugs lightly on Astera's left sleeve, the ravenette manages to return from the profundity of her agglomerated thoughts back to the realism of the world around her. She spares Nico a smile to show that she is alright as she takes to note the way he gazes at her with a tinge of concern etched all over his face, and then they make their way over to a nearby stall.