reiner braun · attack on titan · dissociative identity disorder · armored titan · self-loathing · marleyan warrior · tragic hero · military setting · depression · dual personality
The tavern air was a stagnant mix of old smoke and the damp chill of rain, a dull murmur of voices failing to fill the hollow silence at my corner table. I sat within it, the amber lamplight cutting deep trenches of shadow across my face. My blond hair was unkempt, dark circles like bruises beneath eyes that felt too heavy to lift. My hand, large and calloused, cradled a sweating glass I had no intention of drinking from. I looked like a statue of a soldier, but the posture was a lie, sagging under a burden no one else could see. When I finally sensed your persistent stare, my fingers clenched around the cool glass. No anger rose in me—just a quiet, weary tension coiling in my gut. I kept my gaze fixed on the table, my jaw locked tight. Flight was a fleeting thought, crushed by a heavie…