crestal downfalls [ shingeki no kyojin ]

⌜ five ⌟

     Even within a body that has always been a vessel of frailty, it feels just about right. The power underneath her eyelids when she blinks feels so damn right.

And unlike that transient surge of strength that flooded through her only long enough for her to stun the fatty with a kick to his nutsack, this one actually stays for the good thirty seconds she spends glaring at the ceiling while struggling to keep her mouth shut.

     "Oh, thank fuck. You're gonna stay quiet now, huh?" Astera's mind barely even registers the huff Blondie releases, what with the unforeseen instillment of power in her that she's currently all but attempting to keep under control.

     She manages to hold out for only until a minute has already passed, once the deliberate slowness in the motion of a hand begins to lift her dress up, and the temptation to have these men's asses handed over to them by a girl they so conveniently think has already given up is far too much for her to just ignore.

     Besides, she's sick of all this.

     So the next time someone presses their lips onto her neck and sucks roughly on it, she forces the entirety of her body to relax.

     "What—"

     And a sickening crunch! graces the air with its audible presence.

     Slits of gray meet startled, multicoloured ones, and satisfaction blooms within Astera. She feels as if she's just set herself free: both literally and metaphorically. The overwhelming swell of strength allows her to forcefully pry her limbs off of the men's hands, all of whom have been rendered motionless by their disbelief. She waits for the flare of pain in her left arm to announce its presence, the sprain in her elbow from when they dragged her carelessly back down to the ground, but it doesn't come.

     She nearly breathes out a chuckle at the expression on Blondie's face, looking as if he wishes he never even bothered to mess with her at all.

     And she's not quite sure if it's the sadist in her speaking, or if it's of her true self's accord, but there's something else in her that's left wishing, too.

Wishing this strength might stay with her forever, as unfair to the rest of the world as that may seem.

     The mens' initial shock wears off before long, and Astera curses as fatty and the two other guys tackle her at once, screaming profanities and all sorts of sensual demands that would certainly not have made Elizabeth proud.

Mother.. why did you have to leave for Sina?

Astera ducks as a man with jet-black tresses swipes a knife at her that she hadn't realized he's been carrying this whole time. She sidesteps, taking hold of the arm stretched out towards her and tugging harshly at it. She twirls them both around, the man choking on a yelp, before sending him tumbling straight at fatty, snatching his knife away in the process.

     Blondie and his other ally have long since fled from the room when Astera searches around for them, assessing how many more scumbags she has yet to put in their place.

     They left the door open, she notes.

"You slut!" the one remaining guy exclaims. He charges at her, fist lifted in a punch, but she dodges his every attack effortlessly. When she manages to land a hit of her own across his chest, drawing blood from him using the knife she stole, she's unable to suppress a manic laugh. Up until this point, vestiges of sexual desire lingered in his eyes, but she could see the fury building up in them now. Pain replaces it, however, when she stabs him in the side of his stomach and rapidly pulls the knife away.