#also i feel i am asking this to the ideal audience as all my moots are obsessed with spamton

[yanderespamton78]

you dont deserve a see results i need VOTES

examples of a bestest boy below the cut

[demoanais]

This will all be moot in a month but I feel like I'm in danger of being misunderstood so I wanted to make my position more clear for the record:

I AM happy Sharon is shown to be hurt, angry and cynical. She's more than earned that. EVC is perfect for playing with the dark side of her character, she has plenty of great experience to tackle that duality. Exploring deeper layers of Sharon is a welcome shift.

I AM happy that the show acknowledges that Sharon was wronged after merely doing the right thing and has long been suffering the consequences of a punishment that vastly exceeds the crime. Of course that's changed her outlook, how could it not?

I AM happy that Sharon has still managed to build a stable life for herself despite all this pain; she is extremely self sufficient and capable and takes great pride in that. It's the emotional blow that stings her the most - she has survived but it never needed to be this hard.

I AM happy that she didn't welcome sam and bucky with open arms and chat like nothing was wrong. She gave up everything and look where it landed her; they were being naive and insensitive to think she'd so happily jump back into the fray for their sakes with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

I AM happy that despite her misgivings and distrust, she still lent her strength to sam and bucky's efforts because at her core, that's who she is. She hasn't lost her sense of morality even if her heart isn't exactly in it like it used to be.

I AM unhappy about the execution of all of the above.

For example, you have Sharon ask about new cap. Before bucky can elaborate, she cuts him to the quick by accusing him of blind loyalty to the mantle. But that isn't accurate. If bucky's so-called arc is anything, it's demonstrating how his insecurity and lack of direction are causing his grudges to overtake his better judgement.

For him, *everything* is personal. He was steve's friend before he was captain america's, and that's where meaning dwells for him. He doesn't want the shield back or blame sam for giving it up too easily because of some idealogical obsession with 'stars and stripes bullshit' - he thinks it's a slight to steve that sam didn't honor his choice and that it's more than just government issue gear to be passed around. It represents many things (many of them bad, as the show points out) but he doesn't care about all that. To bucky it may as well be a family heirloom, considering what little he has left from his former life.

Of course, this is all what he has to overcome, to (re) establish his own position and identity in the world, and sharon isn't as privy to those struggles as the audience is. Allowing bucky and/or sam to actually elaborate on their issues with walker could have created an in for her to point out some hypocrisy or naivety on their part. But the opportunity was swiftly torpedoed because we really, really need the audience to get that sharon 2.0 is 'awful' now.

So what could she have criticized bucky for instead? Lucky for her, that problem was looking her right in the face drinking her expensive liquor. There is very little justification for the stunt bucky pulled behind sam's back by freeing zemo, and I can only assume consequences are around the corner. Yet again, bucky isn't seeing big picture, he's consumed by his own personal relationship to zemo and the super serum. He acted unilaterally based on his own fears and self doubts but wants to present his actions as logical and well reasoned. Zemo can help in the short term, but what is the cost?

Sharon, being the seasoned cynic she is now, would have seen through that in an instant. How difficult would it have been to jab at the irony, bucky being 'free' according to his therapist but chained to this person who used him as a tool, who continues to exploit his weaknesses, who seems to be far more in control than bucky is in the situation they're all in. Bucky is trying to prove something, he doesn't seem to be sure what that is yet, but he's stubbornly blinded himself to the possibility that he's going about it the wrong way. That is something that sharon could have rightfully called out, but for some reason bucky's most egregious flaw is presented as.... being steve's best friend.

Then you have her dealings with sam, who's problems are more from the other side of the spectrum. He isn't really allowed to bring his personal feelings to the table, he has to deal with the intense pressure of taking on a loaded persona when it may not actually ring true to him in his heart. He also trusted steve and had faith in what that specific cap stood for, but does that mean he's willing to put the whole system on his own shoulders now? He's trying to think above and beyond, about the legacies before him, about his own place in history when all is said and done.

Sam is all about big picture at this stage, and his journey would presumably have him work from the outside in. That's why the glimpses of his family life are invaluable, they give us that contrast between his day to day realities and the loftier, more abstract idealism of the falcon's (or cap's) heroism. His exploration is about staking his own personal claim on the symbolism of that shield, not just for his own sake but for the sake of those who will now look to him as a leader and an inspiration.

To be fair, I think some of sharon's dialogue with sam is marginally better, but still ultimately misses the mark. I envisioned an exchange where she might belittle his decision to continue acting as a representative of the same organization that failed her so spectacularly, suggesting he should tread carefully lest he find himself discarded once the government no longer finds him useful or compliant.

She...sort of got close to saying that? If I squint really hard I guess? But it's off because it's less about the posturing and politics of their roles and of 'the machine' so to speak, than it is about striving to do right when you can. It feels like she's criticizing the inherent value of what they try do rather than the shortcomings of the framework itself. If I get vibes that this sharon seems to waffle on whether or not she regrets what she did in CACW, that's not a good thing.

Bureaucracy, red-tape, iconography - all of the things walker is being parceled with; can you disentangle yourself while refusing to leave the system in the same state as you found it? If I want to be charitable I can chalk this up to semantics, but they haven't given me many reasons to be charitable so far.

Then you have the whole utterly nonsensical bargaining over her pardon (the stupidity of that particular exchange pointed out multiple times on reddit, of all places) and sharon's not-so-subtle suggestion that sam is basically lying to her when he says he can get her pardoned.

If she's trying to say she doesn't believe he actually has the pull to accomplish that, or that he's underestimating how difficult it would be, it's one thing. But saying that he's merely 'pretending' to clear her name is completely unfair. I don't care how ~jaded~ sharon is, there's no plausible reason for her to consider sam capable of such a lie and I find that an insult to them both. Naturally, I place blame squarely on kolstad's writing, and not on sharon herself. It's plain as day he didn't give a wink to a single implication he made with his script, nor does he care to do so.

Am I foolish for thinking her arc could be handled with more coherence? I like to think I'm already controlling for the lackluster quality of MCU writing in general; this actually surprised me. I expect basic and juvenile, but at least there's consistency. Frankly, I think Feige put a little too much slack in the reins here and the characters are paying the price.

Could I be crying wolf too soon before giving everything a chance to pan out? Of course, that's always a possibility and I'd be more than glad to eat crow if things turn out palatable in the end. Are the odds favorable that this will happen? Magic 8 ball says don't count on it, and I'm not in the habit of constantly lowering my standards until they're miraculously met.

[wolffyluna]

A Ferdinand/Claude fic, for @ferdinands-love-club/ @stag-of-almyra.

I’m going to be open for Ferdinand rare pair requests for the next week or so, so feel free to send some in!

Ferdinand knew horses. He’d grown up around them, and learned to ride them as soon as his parents felt confidant he wouldn’t immediately fall off. He knew how horses thought—their love of their herd, their mixed curiosity and fear at new things, they way they responded to fright and treats and leg pressure. He understood them.

He knew dogs, too. To a lesser extent then horses, but he could read their body language well enough to recognise fear and joy and prey-lust and excited obedience.

He did not know wyverns. He knew they were ridden, like horses. He knew they were predators, like dogs. So it seemed reasonable enough to assume they were half way between horses and dogs, until he found any differences. And it was a duty of a noble to give it all your all in your assigned tasks, and to show initiative, and so he went to retrieve the wyvern he would be riding for this week’s assignment by himself. He knew which stable she lived in, and had enough instruction to know how to tighten her girth strap and lead her out, and that was, in theory, all he needed to do.

He felt prepared.

It was, unfortunately, a false sense of preparedness.

He had walked in, tried to tighten her girth strap, and immediately gotten bitten and backed into a corner for his trouble.

A noble did not call out for help needlessly, so he was a bit stuck. Only a little, of course. Once he worked out how to approach her, without her attempted to puncture his flesh again , he would be set.

He stared at her. It was how he had cowed his father’s guard dogs, who forgot they should not try to menace their master’s son. Assuming wyverns were doggish horses had in some ways gotten him into this mess, but it was his best idea for how to get out of it.

She stared back.

“Well, you seem a little stuck.” Claude leaned over the stable gate, hands dangling into the stable itself (courageously close to the snapping jaws of an enraged wyvern, by Ferdinand’s read.)

“Only momentarily—”

“You’ve been there ten minutes. Petra’s been waiting.” He paused, and looked at Ferdinand’s arm. “Also, you’re bleeding.”

Ferdinand conceded his staring contest to look down at his own arm. “So I am,” he said, somewhat puzzled. He’d felt the scrape of her teeth, but he had assumed it was merely that, a scrape, and that she had not broken skin. …he hoped that the scent of blood did not make wyverns go strange, as it did for horses and dogs.

“You’d better get that checked out, wyvern bites are nasty.” He opened the door, and strode in nonchalantly. “And considering you’ve been bitten, I’d better help a pal out.”

“It really is not necessary—” he said, vainly trying to save face.

Claude tightened her girth strap in one move, and the wyvern merely squinted in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it, they always give the first-timers trouble.” He left with a jaunty wave. “Good luck!”

Ferdinand paused for a second, before he realised the thing he had forgotten to do. “Thank you very much for your assistance!” he called out.

Claude didn’t seem to notice. (Or maybe he did, and felt no need to react? Ferdinand had the trick for reading horses and dogs. He hadn’t found the trick for wyverns, and he was not sure he had found the trick for Claude.)  

 ***

 Ferdinand walked back to the wyvern stables after breakfast the next morning, bandage tight around his arm, and Manuela’s admonishment still ringing in his ears (“Don’t ride with an injury like that! And certainly don’t leave a wyvern bite untended for hours, their mouths are nasty things—“)

Claude caught up with him, and handed him a bowl. “Here you go: a bribe.”

Ferdinand took it automatically, and looked down. It was bowl of old sausages from yesterday’s breakfast, that didn’t smell like they had turned yet, though he was reluctant to put them to the test in his stomach. He blinked at them, and paused. What was the most polite way to say to your better “Please do not bribe me, it is unbecoming conduct for a noble to accept a bribe” and “Please do not bribe me, I do not want old sausages”?

Claude saw his confusion. “For the wyvern.  Their just like people: quickest way to their hearts is through their stomachs.” He winked.

“Thank you once again for your assist—”

“Don’t mention it. I’m just paying it forward, pal.”

 ***

 Claude and Ferdinand saw each other at the wyvern stables more and more. Ferdinand seemed quite taken with the creatures, after his unfortunate first impression. Claude couldn’t blame him—they were strong willed, and independent, and generally only took suggestions instead of commands, but they were lovely animals.

Over time Ferdinand, went from someone he merely called ‘friend’ or ‘pal,’ to an actual one. He was loyal and driven, and his noble ideal was much less “I am better than everyone” and more “I should strive to be better than everyone,” which, while an odd philosophy, was one Claude could respect.

They gave advice to each other on assignments, Claude teaching him about wyverns, and Ferdinand imparting horse-y wisdom.  

(Claude sat on the arena’s sawdust floor, hip still sore from his fall, after his mount spooked at a wall they had ridden past twenty times before with no incident. “I don’t quite see what you seen them.” He shook his head. “They’re far too flighty.”

Ferdinand hopped off his horse, to lend him a hand up. “That could be true,” he said. “But once they trust you, once you are part of their herd—that loyalty, that partnership, is like little else in this world.”

He took the hand, and brushed the dirt off his pants once he was upright. “I don’t mind my partners not listening to me, from time to time, if they didn’t throw me off when they get scared.” )

When they had free time, they shared tea together, and discussed politics and history and philosophy and duty and riding.

It was a good friendship. And it would stay like that: friendship. Nothing more.

Even if Ferdinand had some interest in him, his noble ideal did seem to involve marrying someone and having as many Crest-bearing babies as possible. He’d said as much, even if not directly about himself. Spoke while sipping his bergamot about the duty of Crest bearers to protect those he did not have them, and to protect future generations of those lacking Crests by making future generations of bearers.

And, well, that wasn’t going to happen between the two of them. Better save the heartbreak there and then.

Plus, even if Ferdinand was speaking in general, rather than specifically about his own duties—when he wasn’t chasing after the noble ideal, he was chasing after the ideal of Edelgard. Which maybe wasn’t super healthy, but Claude wasn’t going to judge. But he could see all the little ways he could twist it, point Ferdinand’s ideals at him, make himself the object of that idealistic devotion with just a few words here and there over tea and cleaning wyvern tack. Ferdinand thrived on goals and ideals and it would be so simple to just change the direction he pointed ever so slightly--

It was tempting. The idea made him feel slimy. So he put that plan in the “don’t” bucket and tried to forget he’d ever thought about it.

And then Edelgard went and made that temptation a moot point, and his and Ferdinand’s friendship too. Maybe some people could stay friends with the person who drove them out of a monastery, and made a serious attempt to do kill them, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t that person.

It was a shame, really.

 ***

4 years later.

 Claude stared through a palace window.

A messenger skidded to a halt next to him, panting. “My lord, there is someone in the courtyard who insists on seeing you.”

That didn’t surprise him. He’d just seen a wyvern rider coming in, hard and fast—not wearing Leicester colours, a skilled flier, but still having trouble dodging the arrows and wyvern riding guards aiming for him and—well, it wasn’t like Fódlan lacked for red heads, but he still had a quiver of hope in his heart. (He hoped that that was who was demanding an audience. When the strange wyvern rider dropped out of the sky, he could not tell if it was to land, or because they had been struck in the heart by an arrow.)

He walked to the courtyard as fast as he could.

Standing on the tiles, an old wyvern, battle scarred and with the brand of Garreg Mach on her shoulder, scratched her head. In front of her, stood a warrior in Black Eagles colours, but with every bit of insignia painstakingly seam-ripped out, and long red hair. Ferdinand. He looked different. Not just older, but older—having the bearing of someone who had seen some shit, if he had the liberty of being vulgar in his own head.

(He wondered if he looked older to Ferdinand, too. The beard would help.)

Ferdinand sank to one knee, formal and courtly and like an example illustration from an etiquette book. “My liege,” he said.

“I’m not your liege.” Because he wasn’t. Ferdinand was the Duke of Aegir, so his liege was Edelgard nigh definitionally. And he had followed her to war, and if that didn’t count as vassalage then nothing did—Even discounting that, he wasn’t going to point that devotion at himself deliberately if he could help it. Not now.

Ferdinand looked up at him—a breach of etiquette, and it surprised Claude that Ferdinand didn’t seem to care. He spoke fast, a shake of adrenaline and twinge of desperation in his voice. “Yes. Yes, you are. I am making—I am formally requesting to be your vassal.”

Claude lifted him up by the shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. If asked, he’d say it was to try and read Ferdinand’s intention, see if he was lying—but he didn’t need to. Ferdinand was a man of honour. If there was anything he would not play false on, it was matters of lieges and vassals and duties and loyalties. He’d only admit it to himself, but he was just looking at Ferdinand’s face, trying to map what had changed and what had stayed. (It was definitely Ferdinand. He was older, less bright—but he was Ferdinand.)

He stared back—ready for rebuke, but determined to stay at Claude’s side.

How could he say no? He embraced Ferdinand, and clapped him on the back. “It’s good to have you back, pal.”

[owl-eyed-woman]

Attack on Titan Season 2 Episode Analysis - Episode 6 (Episode 31)

Since we only just resolved this season’s first arc, I had assumed that this episode would consist solely of characters’ reflections on past events and set up for future ones. I am happy to report that this episode is a little more eventful to say the least.

First though, we do need to recover after last week’s emotionally draining conclusion and recap exactly where we are at. On that note, I am so, so happy to see that Ymir is alive (though comatose). I was genuinely saddened at the thought of her being dead, even if that death made logical, emotional and motivational sense. Still though, it definitely makes sense that Ymir has survived - I mean, if Eren could survive being almost digested, surely Ymir can survive losing a chunk of her digestive tract? Titan shifters are clearly made of much sterner stuff.

With Ymir out of commission so to speak, Christa (or should I call her Historia?) has to explain the situation to Hanji and defend Ymir’s actions. As Historia argues, even though Ymir hid vital information, in the end she used her powers to save her comrades, proving her loyalty. Furthermore, while Ymir concealed many vital secrets, she was motivated by the simple (read: selfish) aim of protecting herself, rather than any nefarious conspiracy. Hanji, too, completely understands that Ymir has the potential to be a great asset to humanity, as long as they can ensure that she is first and foremost an ally.  

I feel like we’re seeing the psychological impact of Christa reasserting her identity last episode as she successfully convinces Hanji; Christa is really coming into her own as Historia (I’m still getting used to writing that name XD)! Historia’s gentle appearance and manner has always belied her fierce determination and formidable strength, so I love seeing this strong side.

There’s still something else hanging in the air that needs to be addressed though. As Hanji brings up Christa’s true identity, Historia Reiss, a pained, pensive expression crosses Historia’s face. For Historia, this name brings a painful weight, along with countless bad memories. So when Hanji comfortingly pats her shoulder and says “nice to meet you”, this oppressive weight almost immediately lifts and the mood changes palpably. In this one line, Hanji reframes Historia’s reclamation of her name, not as a resurrection of pain and strife, but rather, as a new beginning. Yes, it’s only a very short scene, but there’s always time for some character development!

But these brief scenes are basically all moot compared to the real meat of this episode; and that is Reiner. I thought I had a handle on who Reiner was as a person. Sure, there was a lot I didn’t know about him, but I still thought that after all this time I understood who he was in a general sense. Boy, was I wrong! The moral of the story is don’t get cocky, I guess.

We first see Reiner struggling to climb onto the top of the wall with his injured arm. Noticing this, Eren immediately goes to help him, holding out his hand which Reiner accepts without hesitation. By introducing Reiner here, this brief scene reinforces our basic understanding of Reiner and Eren’s relationship; they are comrades who unconditionally trust each other. The camera lingers on the shot of their gripped hands, a symbol of camaraderie, trust and unity.

This is all very basic stuff, but it is crucial setup for Reiner’s eventual betrayal. From the beginning, the show is hinting that something is up through multiple shots of Reiner (and Bertholdt) reflected in puddles. It’s a concise, elegant way too remind us that there is more to Reiner than meets the eye and that we will soon be seeing another side to him. This quick scene at the beginning of the episode quickly establishes a foundational understanding of Reiner’s place in the characters’ minds, which the show can now start to complicate, deconstruct, and, in the end, destroy.

Reflecting on the night’s events, Reiner begins to freak out about his very recent near-death experience. In my episode 4 analysis, I wrote about how Reiner exemplified the show’s critique of the ideal of heroic sacrifice. To recap, Reiner’s actions in episode 4, though superficially heroic, are ultimately presented as foolhardy, impulsive and unnecessary. Interestingly, Reiner realises this as well, reeling at his actions and blind heroism. In this moment, Reiner confronts his own mortality and he’s honestly not handling it well.

Reiner, as we have heretofore understood him, has embodied three essential ideas: bravery, loyalty and stability; basically the perfect soldier. In this one scene, the show begins to break this down by showing us that behind his brave actions lies very real fear and weakness.

Throughout this scene Bertholdt looks on with an intensely stressed expression on his face. As a side note, I have to say Bertholdt is perhaps one of the most enigmatic characters in the show. Until this episode, I would have simply dismissed him as unremarkable and frankly, forgettable. I mean, the only thing I could have said about him was that he is tall and strong – it’s almost hilarious how these two seemingly mundane facts actually function as clues to his real identity.

It’s hard to express how weird, awkward and generally unsettling this scene is, along with the episode as a whole. What should be a comforting moment of safety and contemplation for our characters never materialises, with everyone palpably unsettled, stressed and clearly still on guard.

This feeling only intensifies when Hannes confirms what we’ve known for a while now: there is no hole in the wall. In the face of such an inexplicable mystery, the only option is to retreat to Trost and regroup. As they start to walk off though, Reiner asks Eren to stay back for a moment and we finally get to the big reveal of this episode.

Now, AOT is a show built on shocking twists and turns and it’s really, really good at them. The problem with this however is that after a while the audience inevitably becomes accustomed to these reveals and they no longer shock like they used to; AOT’s unpredictability becomes, in a sense, predictable. Additionally, viewers get better at figuring out the twist well in advance. I think a lot of people had already figured out that Reiner is the Armoured Titan (it’s the hair isn’t it?). So how do you make a reveal like this shocking without the audience rolling their eyes and smugly thinking that they’re way ahead of the show? - Context and framing!

You see, AOT knows that after 30 episodes the audience doesn’t just expect a twist; they also expect a certain amount of melodrama and set up before the twist is revealed. Historically, information that is this important and this world shattering doesn’t just get told to us or to the characters. They have to fight tooth and nail, risking their lives for it.

So to have this twist calmly revealed by Reiner so unceremoniously with no setup or conflict whatsoever, it’s not only a surprise; it’s just wrong.  Paradoxically, it’s how completely and utterly anti-climactic this reveals is that makes it so, so shocking and so effective. This is absolutely world-changing information, and both Reiner and the show itself are treating it like a run-of-the-mill conversation - like it doesn’t matter at all! In this way, even if the specifics of information aren’t necessarily shocking, the way in which it is presented to the audience definitely is! It’s using our own understanding of dramatic and storytelling conventions against us and it’s pretty genius.

This is all wonderfully and effectively supported by cinematic language. There’s no dramatic music, no intense, emotional close-ups; just a cold, disinterested distance. Every shot and edit all works together to express both the mundanity and the abruptness of this revelation, so I’m going to spend the next section unpacking it!  

We start with a shot focused on Mikasa in the foreground as she walks out of frame, leaving Eren, Reiner and Bertholdt in the background. Now, this isn’t a good shot by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, it’s dreadfully ordinary and incompetent. This shot isn’t trying to be visually compelling though. Instead, it’s actively trying to misdirect and distract us.

By focusing initially on Mikasa, our attention is immediately drawn away from the three boys. Furthermore, the blocking of the characters is incredibly awkward and uncommonly inexpressive, with Eren and Reiner facing away from the camera. Every bit of this framing tells us one thing, loudly and proudly; nothing noteworthy is happening. The shot is literally telling us to not pay attention.

Then Reiner calmly says that he and Bertholdt destroyed the wall 5 years ago and that their ultimate aim is to destroy humanity. We’re not even shown his face as he says this! This is one of the craziest, most revolutionary reveals of the show, and it is presented to us, cinematically and contextually, as if Reiner were talking about the weather.  

No time to register this information though, as the show immediately cuts to Hanji pondering how the titans could have appeared within the wall. We’re already taking a second longer to process what Reiner just revealed after we pre-emptively dismissed it; now, this medium shot of Hanji’s intense but irrelevant contemplation actively tries to distract us again.

Then, as Reiner admits that he is the Armoured titan and Bertholdt is the Colossal titan, we cut to a wide shot of the scouts walking away from this scene, highlighting their obliviousness to the traitors in their midst. At this point, we’ve caught up with the implications of what Reiner is saying, but with the multiple points of focus, giving us a lot to process visually. This, along with the lowered volume of Reiner’s dialogue further limits our ability to absorb the true implications of this information remains limited.

It’s all so masterfully done. I am consistently impressed by how well-made and thought out this show is, and how, against all odds, it manages to stay fresh after all this time. Bravo.  

Now, as this scene unfolds, I assumed that everyone’s uneasy demeanour was just a general reaction to the frankly confusing situation they’ve found themselves in. However, as we flashback 12 hours earlier, we are shown that the whole scout corps already suspected something amiss with Reiner and Bertholdt. Thus, another layer of complexity is added to this scene and the charged atmosphere is reconfigured as a feeling of anticipation and hyperawareness.

For the 104th cadets, it’s important to understand just how much they trust Reiner. Reiner was like a brother to them, a rock of the team if you will. Their loyalty to him is so deep that they almost can’t believe that he could have been conspiring against them this whole time. Thus, this part of the episode works to further destroy one previously foundational aspect of our understanding of Reiner: loyalty.

As the facts pile up against Reiner, Eren continues to defend him though, becoming increasingly distressed at the mere suggestion that he could be a traitor. After all he’s been through with Reiner and Bertholdt, as friends and soldiers, it’s almost impossible for him to conceive of them as enemies. Tragically, Eren’s only error here is that he’s too loyal and too trusting. In any other situation, these would be admirable traits. But when everyone is a potential threat and the wrong decision could mean the eradication of humanity, Eren’s naivety means he is ill-equipped to deal with the situation at hand.  

You see, Eren is inherently idealistic (or to be cruel, naïve) and truly believes in humanity and his comrades. This unwavering belief in the value of humanity is essential to his triumphs, as it gives him the strength to overcome impossible odds and prevail over the greatest despair. However, in order to retain this idealistic view of a cruel world, Eren has been forced to adopt an incredibly black and white understanding of morality. In Eren’s mind, you’re either intrinsically good and trustworthy, or you’re irredeemably evil and monstrous.

Crucially though, Eren naively assumes that reality reflects his view of the world and is unable to conceive of anything that falls outside of this stark dichotomy of good and evil. Dangerously, this blinds him to the reality of the world and makes him more vulnerable to manipulation. Additionally, because his worldview and ideals are continuously and cruelly challenged, with people proving themselves more complicated than this, Eren is inevitably traumatised precisely because of his strict adherence to such a rigid understanding of humanity.

So in the face Reiner and Bertholdt’s betrayal, let’s just say Eren isn’t going to deal with it well. Still, with all this in mind, he actually does a pretty good job defusing the situation and placating Reiner, trying to react as anyone would to such a preposterous proposal by playing it off as a delusion or even a joke. Bertholdt seems all too eager to use this as an out – he too is flying by the seat of his pants – and enthusiastically agrees.

However, Eren goes too far when he recklessly decides to question Reiner’s thought process. The only reason Reiner would have revealed his secret to Eren is because he seriously thought there was a chance Eren would agree to come quietly. Frankly, this is an irrational, illogical idea and any person in their right mind would know that this wouldn’t work, but not Reiner. It’s kind of innocent or even idealistic, that Reiner could possibly think that Eren would agree to his proposal, but also worryingly delusional. So when Eren points this fact out, Reiner is genuinely shocked, dismayed, and maybe even hurt.

Gradually, this episode has broken down every conception we’ve had of Reiner as a person. We believed Reiner was physically strong, so we were shown his emotional weakness. We believed Reiner was loyal, so we were shown his betrayal. And now, though we believed Reiner was stable, now we’re shown his instability. He’s not cool and collected at all, he’s irrational and volatile. Visually, this episode has been tense and unsettling throughout, with stormy skies and violently waving flags, symbolising the constantly shifting situation at hand and Reiner’s unstable psyche. So when the flag pole suddenly snaps, we know that Reiner has made a decision. There is no going back now.

Suddenly, Reiner declares that he’s been here too long for his own good and he becomes deeply ashamed his naivety. Though he is committed to his cause, some part of him, I think, does genuinely care about everyone he’s fought with. In his irrational state, offering Eren an opportunity to come quietly and prevent the eradication of humanity seemed like a valid way to reconcile this his greater plan with his new ties. However, realising the impossibility of any compromise, he now feels his only choice is to commit to his duty as a warrior and see their plan through to the end, no matter the consequences.

Throughout the show, Reiner has described himself as both a soldier and warrior, and the difference between these terms is crucial to the choice Reiner makes. The term ‘soldier’ recalls ideas of strength, bravery, loyalty and stability; essentially, our past conception of Reiner. Crucially, unlike a warrior, to be a soldier one must be part of an army. Thus, the term ‘soldier’ also brings up associations of conformity, disciple and camaraderie. In contrast to this, the concept of a warrior exists independent of a larger group and thus symbolises individuality, agency and power. A soldier fights in an army for a community but a warrior fights for himself. Thus, in his decision to be a warrior, Reiner forsakes his community, deciding to fight as an individual for his own enigmatic desires.

This pace has been slowly quickening, building up tension, and now it all comes to a head as Reiner and Bertholdt put their plan into motion, transforming into their titan forms. Until this moment, I don’t think Eren truly believed or, at the very least, understood the implications of what Reiner revealed to him. He’s actually sobbing at what he is forced to face in Reiner. Treasured memories flash through his mind, of training with Reiner and Bertholdt, confiding in them and trusting them. Eren truly loved both of them.

But now, as Eren watches the world turn to chaos around him, Reiner’s status as titan and traitor finally sinks in and eradicates his conception of him as friend and comrade. But if they’re not his friends, then what are they? They are monsters, they are irredeemable traitors and they need to be destroyed.

[dreamaze]

✨check-in tag ✨ 

tagged by @jiminswn, @kimtaegis, @namjoonia, @jminparks, & @dnaez, aka probably the most people to ever tag me for one game, thank you dears ♡

1) why did you choose your url?

It’s a synthesis of the two lyric fragments from Mikrokosmos currently quoted in my description (our own stars / our own dreams) plus my main, becomewings, which is itself an actual lyric quote from Wings that I felt was fitting for the themes of BTS Universe.

2) any side blogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

This is my, er, main side blog. My main blog is @becomewings and I recently started @songofastar, devoted to BTS Universe and The Star Seekers, respectively. For the rest of the answer please see #5 because this seems redundant :3

3) how long have you been on tumblr?

Off and on with different accounts since... I really don’t remember, but quite possibly in the early life of tumblr itself. Definitely over a decade. vaguely recall seeing Lost content here back in the day

4) do you have a queue tag?

jamais q (shoutout to an underappreciated queen ♡)

5) why did you start your blog in the first place?

A deep, immediate obsession with BTS Universe as soon as I discovered it + the need to document all the visual and thematic parallels ... tumblr seemed like the best platform to structure my blog the way I envisioned. Maybe not the most ideal for audience engagement, but oh well!

I began this side blog because after spending some time here, I wanted to reblog content and support my fellow creators. I know the way I run my main blog is a little unusual, but having that dedicated space is important for me and hopefully it can function as a useful archive for folks in the future.

And I began Song of a Star because oh look another shiny transmedia narrative for me to fixate on I again decided to create a dedicated space, especially inspired by the rebranding of TXT Universe/+u to The Star Seekers. Except I reblog the creations of others there, too!

6) why did you choose your icon?

hahh, in my last (and extremely infrequent) makeover, I tried to make an icon with a shot of Huening Kai and his wings in Nap of a Star, but it looked terribly small and this was a hasty backup. I need to make a new header and icon for this blog since I stole borrowed the layout for my also hastily assembled Star Seekers blog. I don’t know when I’ll have time to do so since I keep prioritizing making actual content.

7) why did you choose your header?

I love this shot from Nap of a Star and enjoyed adding/editing the clouds from another shot as the bottom transition... but again, I need a new one.

8) what’s your post with the most notes?

this is my only set even remotely close to spitting distance of 2k (probably to stay that way forever); on my main, its this Water Series navigation post. and yes, I am Mad (bitter?) about both of them -- the first because it’s such a basic set compared to other parallels I’ve done (and didn’t know what I was doing with coloring back then) but mainly because I had to read an absurd amount of thirst notes/comments on it -- the second because I don’t consider it a “real” piece of content and the amount of notes it has compared to the actual series components just reminds me that it’s not fulfilling its purpose. ..... but anyway, the Important thing is the sets I am most proud of have nothing to do with the number of notes on them! even though it is genuinely frustrating

9) how many mutuals do you have?

Enough to overflow my little old heart with love ♡

10) how many followers do you have?

Enough to appreciate the small garden I’ve cultivated here + not enough to rally a mob of gray-faced anons screaming anti in my inbox every time I can’t keep my mouth shut about something that smells vaguely of Criticism™️ ... the best of both worlds, truly ♡

11) how many people do you follow?

440! I love following artists and creators from other fandoms too if I’m interested in their content, even if I’m not actively participating in them.

12) have you ever made a shitpost?

whenever I post something remotely technical about music, it has the energy of a shitpost to me because it is by me, for me and... probably not interesting or amusing to anyone but me <3

13) how often do you use tumblr each day?

too much. working at home during the pandemic led to some bad habits. by necessity, they will be corrected when I go back to work in person, and will probably begin adjusting as my school courses get rolling too.

14) did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

I don’t fight with people irl and I don’t intend to start on the internet either

15) how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

Kind of depends on the post, how difficult it is to verify the information in it, etc.

16) do you like tag games?

Yes!! But I take ages to get to them (see: this)

17) do you like ask games?

Yes also, but again I feel like I am the slowest person in the world at answering them ... I overthink everything.

18) which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

all of them are dazzling to me ✨

19) do you have a crush on a mutual?

I don’t have crushes, I have heaps of love for all of my kind-hearted and inspiring moots who are generous enough to share this little space on the internet with me ♡♡♡

20) tags?

I’ve seen people answer this two different ways, and I’m still not sure which is right sdjfdksfj. If this is the spot for tagging other people, I will pass because I’m pretty sure everyone has done it at this point (if not and you would like to, please consider yourself tagged!).

Alternately: for a silly bit of fun, check out #yeonbin shenanigans. Two besties sharing zero braincells. we love to see it.

[timhowe-blog1]

~ Being British in Bavaria ~

                                               Prologue

  ‘So, let's just get this straight,’ begins Frau Gürtelmann, removing her spectacles and fixing me slap bang in the eyes with a studied, concentrated gaze.

‘In your application you said that you are PC literate, but it turns out you can't touch-type, you can't tell the difference between pdf and power point, and Frau Bichlbächer had to show you how to send her an email’.         

That much is true. I had needed to ask her secretary how to send an email. It seems incredible that a means of communication which we take for granted nowadays was by no means bread-and-butter business back in 1998.       

‘All you're able to do,’ continues Gürtelmann, ‘is open Word’.Looking for confirmation, lest she might have misidentified my true colours, she cocks her head: ‘Right so?’

I’d been tickled pink when, having just graduated the previous autumn, Deutsche Telekom instantly offered me a full-time position in its translating department. My first day on the job looked promising. I’d always considered myself to be a natural talent at journalism, and was delighted to be asked to translate press releases for the company’s English-language website. The first assignment involved a dispatch advertising a wake-up call service from glamour girl Verona Feldbusch. That’s roughly the German equivalent of Katie Price. As I handed my polished text to the department secretary I remarked ‘Gosh, and there are people prepared to pay good money for something like that’.

This off-hand remark must have found its way back to the boss, because the following morning I was removed from press translation and relegated to manning ‘the clippings cubicle’. This, I soon discovered, was the least popular duty in the whole department – one normally assigned to school pupils on work week. My instructions were to ‘fillet’ the daily Fachpresse, or specialist press, cut out everything to do with telecommunications and glue it into a scrapbook. I’d heard from former novices that new full-time entrants were also occasionally put to work on this peripheral assignment. But for just a day or two, before being moved on to more key, translation-based tasks. Apart from being released to translate the odd text whenever a colleague went sick, I remained in the newspaper clippings cubicle a whole month.

I should have taken the hint. Especially when the colleague responsible for keeping an eye on my efforts quietly handed me the Stellenangebote – situations vacant – from the Süddeutsche Zeitung and suggested I might start applying for other jobs.  Things hadn't quite panned out as planned, it seemed. I was now being called into the boss's office for my first and, as it soon transpired, only progress report. And we weren’t even a third of the way into probationary period.

Frau Gürtelmann's damning appraisal of my practically non-existent PC skills is, alas, spot on. Humiliated and unable to return her gaze, I lower my eyes, bringing them to rest on a stain on the lacquered wood floorboards. Then, as if attempting to mitigate charges being brought against me, I look up and whimper ‘Yes, but I also copy and paste’.

On reflection, I'd possibly taken ‘PC literate’, buzzword of the time, rather too literally. I was, after all, literate and able to turn on a PC. Surely that sufficed, did it not? A simplistic but nonetheless reasonable line of thought in the days when social networking meant little more than writing out a cheque each year for Friends Reunited and mobile phones came bricklike, glued to a 12-inch antenna. As for connectivity and the Internet of Things, back in 1998 these were foreign words to me.

In my defence, I ought to explain that my ignorance of all things IT was not totally mea culpa. I am one of the so-called ‘lost generation’. The very year after I left school, Information Technology was introduced to the National Curriculum. The idea of ‘catching up’ on this essential life-skills subject was never mooted, however. Right through university and well into my first full-time teaching job in Britain it was not once suggested that a basic grasp of PC knowhow might possibly enhance my career prospects. Not even when I took my Diploma of Translating shortly before the Millennium was there any talk of computer literacy being de rigueur for those wishing to progress in this IT-driven profession. As a mature student, I was easily ten years older than most of my fellow peers – every single one of them PC literate, naturally.                                              

Following the dressing down in Frau Gürtelmann’s office, I knuckle down at my laptop and endeavour to fix my shortcomings in the IT department. For starters, I take an Introduction to Word course at the local VHS, part of Germany’s excellent adult education network. I even buy an old typewriter for ten marks and teach myself touch-typing. Still, having made a dog’s dinner of my first job in Germany, probably the most sensible thing to do would right now would be to cut my losses and return to England. Although my first attempt at teaching in Britain hadn’t exactly been a crowning achievement, I probably should consider giving it another go. They’re desperately short of foreign language teachers in Britain, I speak French and German fluently and am appropriately qualified. I feel sure I could make a much better job of it second time round.

So why am I reluctant to return to Britain? More to the point, why am I so gung-ho on staying on here and making Germany my home? Twenty years later, and this is still one of the most frequent questions which Germans ask me. ‘Wie kommst Du hierher?’ They want to know what brought me here. This has always struck me as something of a strange question. I mean, why not ‘Lust auf Lovely Germany?’ That’s the title of a recent Spiegel magazine report on intra-EU migrants. It’s no accident that some 96,000 Brits currently live in Germany. The country enjoys a healthy economy, plenty jobs, a generous health and social care system and generally a much better climate than Britain. They brew a damn good beer here too, of course. These are typical reasons I give whenever Germans ask me how I ended up here. And they’re all part of the reason why I’m so happy to make this country my adopted home. What originally attracted me over here all those years ago, however, takes a little more explaining. Truth told, I fell in love with Germany quite by accident. And it was all thanks to a teenage magazine called Bravo.

Flashback to the early eighties. Growing up in the genteel Georgian city of Bath in Northeast Somerset, it’s unlikely that I would ever have become quite so fixated with Germany and the Germans, had it not been for Bravo. I discovered this popular youth magazine on an exchange trip to our partner town of Brunswick in 1982. It was the year that Deutsche Welle rocked not only the German charts. Splashed over the mag’s front page almost every week were names like Spider Murphy Gang, Hubert Kah and Trio. The latter even made it onto Top of the Pops in Britain.

Emailing, text messaging, WotsApping – none of all that had been invented back then. I don’t think we even had fax. Which is why letter writing, just shortly behind the telephone, was probably the most common form of communication between young people. And Bravo, like most youth magazines of the time, played a pivotal role in this process. I decided to write off to its pen pal page. Scribbled on the back of a blank postcard and accompanied by a simple black-and-white passport photo, my text read Engländer (18) sucht nette deutsche Brieffreunde/innen (Englishman seeks nice German penfriends, male or female). 

I didn’t give the request a moment’s more thought until several weeks later when the postman rang our doorbell excitedly waving a fistful of letters from Germany and Austria. The senders were all female, aged 15 to 17 – a rather narrow target audience for any type of magazine. Not that this really mattered much to me at the time, of course. I was too busy sniffing scented envelopes, deliberating which one to open first. Up to 900 further letters flooded in over the course of the ensuing months, and for a brief period I even possessed my own sorting bag at the local town post office. I did my uttermost to reply to as many as I could. My sole precondition – acceptance criteria, so to speak – was that they enclose a pretty photo. Or at least promise to send one by return of post. Scented notepaper earned bonus points, sending me onto overdrive, as I fired off responses machine-gun style. If ever there was a schoolboy trailblazer to online dating I can proudly say I helped pioneer the project. And if letter writing was ‘in’ then I was right there at the cutting edge.

It soon transpired that this was a perhaps less than ideal way to be spending almost every moment of my freetime in my final year of school. And scribbling away in chaotic Denglish was possibly not the best preparation for my German exams either. Miraculously, I scraped through final examinations with a ‘B’ (History) and two ‘C’ grades (French and German). The latter, interestingly, was a very hard school subject in those days, and remains equally so. This might explain my rather disappointing grade in my most favourite subject. Only around 9% of British pupils actually learn German – and most happily abandon the subject by the age of 16. No wonder Brits refer to it as ‘niche’ subject. Whatever educational value I felt might be derived from corresponding with a substantial proportion of the female teenage population in Germany obviously failed to manifest itself in my exam results.

Having written as many letters as I could physically manage each night I would crawl into bed, collapsing alongside my plastic-clad transistor radio. I habitually sent myself to sleep with Berichte von heute, North German Radio's roundup of the day's news. How much I was able to follow invariably depended on the strength of the crackly short-wave signal. Each morning I would awaken to dulcet tones of Radio Luxemburg's Fröhlicher Wecker, aka Axel Fitzke. This slightly less cocky German version of the BBC's Chris Evans invited his Germany-based listeners, and probably his sole follower in the UK, to wallow in a grand pêle-mêle of Deutsche Schlager and Euro pop. The latter – smash hits from Brittany to Bucharest – despite being sung in relatively comprehensible, albeit rather nonsensical English, never seemed to chart in Britain, strangely enough. The line-up included stars with dubious-sounding names such as Gazebo, Secret Service and Joy. Not to be confused, of course, with the somewhat more sophisticated Police and Joy Division, which most of my peers were into back then. But if Germans were unashamed fans of banal euro pop then it was good enough for me too.

In my last year of school I was, needless to say, obsessed with all things German. When classmates were kicking a ball around the playground or, more likely, slouched on sofas in the sixth form centre, my ears would be glued to headphones in the language lab, fervently following the latest episode of BBC Schools' Deutsch für die Oberstufe, which Herr Lawson kindly recorded each week just for me – I seemed to be the only one interested. 

Hence I spent my final school year specialising in the subjects I loved – foreign languages and history. The school careers advice centre, sadly, wasn’t the greatest of help in guiding me on what exactly to do with these subjects after school. Looking back, I should really have gone in for something more career-oriented, such as journalism or tourism management. Unsure what to do next, I was talked into doing a bone-dry, text-bookish Language and Linguistics degree course. I chose the University of Essex for one sole reason – the port of Harwich was just down the road, providing a convenient escape route to Germany. It was a few more years until no-frills airlines were to revolutionise the way we travelled abroad. For the time being it was the ferry for me.

Had you asked me, in those halcyon, pre-Brexit days, if I'd rather be German than British the answer would have been a resounding ‘Jaaaa!

This, then, is the story of my journey from Bath to deepest Lower Bavaria. And in this post-Brexit climate, an attempt to answer perhaps one of the toughest Anglo-German issues:

Can you really transform a Brit into a Bavarian?