#kolossal

A "Kolossal" German Prisoner Of War #pow

Front page of issue 1880 of Excelsior : Journal Illustré Quotidien #OTD Jan 8 1916 

@kolossal​ // botanical headcanons // accepting

basil :   does your muse have a love - hate relationship with anyone or anything ?

Yes.  Oh yes.  His name is Reiner Braun.

Prior to the Paradis Island Operation, Annie treated him with indifference.  The catalyst was the death of Marcel, and everything that followed after.  While I’m sure she recognised, on some level, that Reiner’s split personality was a coping mechanism born out of trauma, part of her was jealous that he got to escape the reality of their situation and the atrocities they had committed.  Even if it was only for short, unhealthy periods of time.  On top of that, she despised the way he actively befriended the cadets of the 104th, winning their hearts and trust, and was disturbed when he adopted many of Marcel’s traits.  Their dead comrade was never able to rest in her mind, not when Reiner inherited so much of his personality.  Though it surely wasn’t his intention, he left her feeling haunted.  

There was probably a layer of resentment in there too.  Reiner could have easily killed her, the day Marcel died.  Annie hated that he managed to overpower her - all of those years of training with her father, and for what? - and that she was careless enough to allow her guard to drop.  We’re off-road in headcanon territory now, but my interpretation of Annie quietly resents that she was born into a dainty, feminine body.  Then there’s Reiner, who was once something of a runt, but grew into this powerhouse of masculine energy, and he was doted on to boot.  Was she jealous?  Absolutely, though she’d never admit it, maybe not even to herself.  

And this was all before the business with Marco, which is a whole other kettle of fish.

On the flipside, Reiner is also a fellow Warrior; they grew up together, they survived the unimaginable, and their hands are both painted the same shade of red.  They are one and the same.  I imagine she pitied him, at least a little, for the idealistic, hopeful, patriotic, naïve boy he once was, and was horrified when Marcel crushed him with his untimely revelation.  Annie certainly valued Reiner’s leadership skills, and looked to him to manage their operation.  Guiding the Warriors was not a responsibility she would want, though she was disgruntled that the lion’s share seemed to fall to her.

But Annie made no effort to mend any fences, or to communicate these feelings, as she lacked initiative and the necessary interpersonal skills.  I think it’s safe to say she had a very physical reaction to Reiner’s presence and couldn’t stand to have him close to her.  It was easier to avoid him as much as possible and, by default, Bertholdt too.  Which in turn fed her mistaken belief that the boys didn’t value her as a comrade, or as anything approaching a friend.  

Annie hated Reiner, because she hated the uncomfortable, difficult feelings he provoked in her, but deep down she remained loyal to him.  It genuinely hurt her to see him suffer, to know she wasn’t equipped to help, so that fell to Bertholdt, and Bertholdt alone.  Post-crystal, she recognised Reiner’s true calibre, and understood that he did in fact care about her.  I mean, he literally shielded her Titan from a thunderspear and attempted to take the blame for Marco’s death.  And that’s not touching on whether Annie ever learned that he went up against the Beast Titan, in an effort to prioritise her rescue over the pursuit and detainment of Eren.  

So we go from a girl who once kicked Reiner so severely and repeatedly that he was unrecognisable, to one who will admittedly watch him take a beating but will then cradle his head afterwards, and make an effort to comfort him.

           amory wakes with a start, gasping for air like he’s been starved from it for years. it takes a moment to catch a strand of sanity - his ribs feel as though they’ve been crushed, and his head is pounding. but a concussion and a few cracked ribs, they didn’t have any comparison to the scene barraging the grass around him. he sits up slowly, careful of newfound injuries, and his pale eyes survey the scene around him with abject horror. he remembers, in bits and pieces, the plan the commander had hatched. as far as he cares to look, there is carnage ; blood-soaked grass and gore splattering the horizon. amory takes it in, and then promptly leans over to vomit.

“  …. a-  𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖞?  “  the eldest arlert’s voice is the sound which breaks the silence which had befallen the cabin.  his brother’s breathing, gasping, wheezing 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩 no longer accompanying the hum of the ship’s engine.  it was quiet, too silent…  his brother too still, unmoving & unseeing through his wide eyes that had once held the same dreams, ambition, and future as his own.   “ amory…  amory, 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩. “

the sound of his brother’s armor scraping against the metal floor of the airship is piercing as armin 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜, salt spilling from cheeks and downward onto the other boy’s face, rolling down the deceased’s face to wash blond locks matted with blood to a dusty pink.    “ amory!  amory, wake up.  this isn’t funny–  amory, i… “  a hand befalls armin’s shoulders as he begins to shake his brother, 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 managing to scare the perpetrator back.  the breaths once held, now choked down as those who had once crowded around he and amory, peeled away as if a distance of mere feet would save them from the possible 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 that would become of them should armin shift.  

armin’s agony,  twisting & sharp,  piercing even the hearts of those who knew him little,  audibly echoed off of the airships metal plated walls.   𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧,  his ruin made itself known through a wail kin only to that of a banshee amongst rolling hills.   it carried,  and like a sad song pierces the soul,  it too embedded the sound into the hearts of those around him.  𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖘, but not just of a brother, and rather of half of his soul.  after all, what was armin without amory?  

                                                      nothing.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫. the pain of losing someone. it spreads like a fire across her scalp and makes the strongest weak. the way ichor spreads is familiar, flashes of her mother’s death before her. it’s just a painful even if they don’t share the 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽. amory had been there growing up, lost kids once the walls had fallen to soldier’s who would die for one another. it just wasn’t suppose to happen. not like this...  

she gasped, dark eyes filled with horror. the way armin cradles his brother and 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 to the gods. don’t take him. her cries silent amongst his own, just as desperate to keep what pieces she had left in this world. there was only so much a heart could take. and while her pain may not be as great as armin’s, the sight and cries of his own hurt her most. 

‘   armin...   ‘   she wept, the only one 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 to step forward. even the gold static or crackling sound could not compare to what swelled through her. while other’s cowered, she stood ready to face death. 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓.  

‘  it’s okay.  ‘  a lie and she knows, but her words once comforted them both into slumber, into peace. maybe they will work even on a day as this.

"Era una notte buia e tempestosa...". (Snoopy)

"Era una bella mattina di fine novembre. Nella notte aveva nevicato un poco, ma il terreno era coperto di un velo fresco non più alto di tre dita. Al buio, subito dopo laudi, avevamo ascoltato la messa in un villaggio a valle. Poi ci eravamo messi in viaggio verso le montagne, allo spuntar del sole." (Adso da Melk)

Eco aveva riecheggiato da par suo un grande fumetto e ne aveva fatto il punto di partenza di un capolavoro letterario.