#and actively seeks to make amends for what was done in the past

[reasonsforhope]

Non-paywall version here.

"When Arley Gill, head of Grenada’s National Reparations Committee, envisioned his work seeking repair for centuries of enslavement on the Caribbean island, one thing was certain: It was going to be a long slog.

But just two years since its founding, the task force is fielding calls from individuals around the world looking to make amends for ancestors who benefited from enslavement in Grenada. 

“If you had told us this would be happening, we wouldn’t have believed you,” Mr. Gill says, crediting a burgeoning movement of descendants of enslavers getting wise to their family’s history and taking action. 

In Grenada’s case, the momentum began with a public apology made by former BBC journalist Laura Trevelyan and her family in February at a ceremony on the island. They apologized for their forebears’ enslavement of people in Grenada and their enrichment from it, pledging an initial contribution of £100,000 ($130,000) toward education on the island.

“She opened the doors for people to feel comfortable” coming forward, says Mr. Gill.

In April [2023], Ms. Trevelyan and journalist Alex Renton co-founded an organization called Heirs of Slavery. Its eight British members have ancestors who benefited financially from slavery in various ways...

Heirs of Slavery says wealth and privilege trickle down through generations, and that there are possibly millions of Britons whose lives were touched by money generated from enslavement. 

The group aims to amplify the voices of those already calling for reparations, like Caribbean governments. And it supports organizations working to tackle the modern-day consequences of slavery, both in the United Kingdom and abroad, from racism to health care inequities. But it’s also setting an example for others, drafting a road map of reparative justice for enslavement – at the individual level...

“Shining a light is always a good idea,” says Mr. Renton, who published a book in 2021 about his family’s ties to slavery, donating the proceeds to a handful of nongovernmental organizations in the Caribbean and England. “You don’t have to feel guilt about it; you can’t change the past,” he says, paraphrasing Sir Geoff Palmer, a Scottish Jamaican scholar. “But we should feel ashamed that up to this point we’ve done nothing about the consequences” of slavery.

Start anywhere

Most Africans trafficked to the Americas and Caribbean during the trans-Atlantic slave trade ended up in the West Indies. The wealth generated there through unpaid, brutal, forced labor funded much of Europe’s Industrial Revolution and bolstered churches, banks, and educational institutions. When slavery was abolished in British territories in 1833, the government took out a loan to compensate enslavers for their lost “property.” The government only finished paying off that debt in 2015. 

The family of David Lascelles, the 8th Earl of Harewood, for example, received more than £26,000 from the British government after abolition in compensation for nearly 1,300 lives, while “the enslaved people were given nothing,” Mr. Lascelles says. He joined Heirs of Slavery upon its founding, eager to collaborate with peers doing work he’s been focused on for decades.

“People like us have, historically, kept quiet about what our ancestors did. We believe the time has come to face up to what happened, to acknowledge the ongoing repercussions of this human tragedy, and support the existing movements to discuss repair and reconciliation,” reads the group’s webpage.

For Ms. Trevelyan, that meant a very public apology – and resigning from journalism to dedicate herself to activism...

For Mr. Lascelles, a second cousin of King Charles, making repairs included in 2014 handing over digitized copies of slavery-related documents discovered in the basement of the Downton Abbey-esque Harewood House to the National Archives in Barbados, where much of his family’s wealth originated during enslavement. 

“What can we do that is actually useful and wanted – not to solve our own conscience?” he says he asks himself...

“Listen and learn”

...The group is planning a conference this fall that will bring together families that benefited from the trans-Atlantic slave trade along with representatives from Caribbean governments and Black Europeans advocating for reparations. In the meantime, members are meeting with local advocacy groups to better understand what they want – and how Heirs of Slavery might assist.

At a recent meeting, “there was one man who said he wanted to hear what we had to say, but said he saw us as a distraction. And I understand that,” says Mr. Renton. “Maximum humility is necessary on our part. We are here to listen and learn, not try to take the lead and be the boss.”

Mr. Renton’s family has made donations to youth development and educational organizations, but he doesn’t see it as compensation. “I see this as work of repair. If I sold everything I own, I couldn’t begin to compensate for the lives my ancestors destroyed,” he says."

-via The Christian Science Monitor, August 1, 2023

Note: I know the source name probably inspires skepticism for a lot of people (fairly), but they're actually considered a very reliable and credible publication in both accuracy and lack of bias.

#slavery #reparations #antiblackness #racism #colonialism #united kingdom #uk #granada #caribbean #social justice #ancestry #black history #black lives matter #reparative justice #enslavement #abolition #systemic racism #good news #hope

[sokkastyles]

I just stumbled upon a post that complained about fans having Jet forgive Iroh or working at the jasmine dragon and compared it to Katara forgiving Yon Rah and aside from the fact that I have never seen a take like that, the outrage over it is so manufactured because even if those takes did exist, they do because Jet and Iroh are ultimately on the same side, not because Jet needs to forgive people who harmed him to be a good person. Aang asking Katara to forgive her mom's murderer is wrong because Yon Rah never did anything to deserve forgiveness and the only reason he is not continuing to harm others is because he is retired. Having Jet and Iroh working together, instead of against each other, which is ultimately what leads to Jet's death, is actually a good thing. It also takes the onus off of Jet to offer forgiveness because Iroh would be the one actively seeking it and is already remorseful about the things he did and worked to put things right, which Yon Rah never did. Jet and Iroh working together to heal the damage the Fire Nation caused would actually be a good thing.

I mean, there's an obvious difference and nuance in how this narrative would need to be portrayed, but like? Insisting that Jet would hate all fire nation people forever beyond reason, even if they were instrumental in ending the war (which was his goal all along), actually furthers the idea that he's the problem for being hurt and that he's the one being unreasonable. Let's give Jet some humanity here and assume that, like Katara, he would be capable of distinguishing between someone who is not sorry for the hurt they caused and someone who is actively trying to make amends. He just never got the chance to see that with Iroh and Zuko. But post series? You think he would still hate them? Is this because you really think that's a moral take or is it because you're engaging in fandom identity politics? Especially since what Jet actually wanted before he died was to make amends and move past the person he was who was unable to see the difference between an enemy and an innocent and hurt and manipulated his allies because of it.

I'm not gonna get too far into the politics of Jet working for Iroh especially since I have never seen a take like this and it can certainly be done distastefully if not done carefully, but Jet working for Iroh in the tea shop to raise money to send to parts of the Earth Kingdom that were devastated by the war and provide housing for disenfranchised families? That would rock, actually. It's a shame that that didn't happen, especially since Iroh did support Jet when Jet expressed that he wanted to change. It would be a good thing if Jet had an adult like Iroh helping him heal in addition to the good they could do together for the rest of the world. Especially since post series, there is no reason for them to be against each other, even if Jet never "forgave" Iroh. Unless you think Iroh's atonement isn't sincere, which is not something that is worthy of debating, honestly.

#jet #iroh #the discourse

[cherryrainn]

this idea’s been running in circles around my head for like 3 days

may I request some OW headcanons where the reader is the third shimada child and grew up feeling like the black sheep of the family, but after hanzo k!lled genji, they ran away without a trace and started their life over? they quit striving to be good enough for the clan and focused on being good enough for themself (also their dragon is golden/yellow) how the reunion goes, I’ll leave up to you.

please, and thank you

━━ ✧ 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; none, completely platonic between reader and the shimada brothers

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; sure thing! i literally could NOT think of headcanons for this so i hope this works too </3

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; family conflict and estrangement, mention of death and loss, emotional turmoil

growing up as the third shimada child was a constant struggle for you. you always felt like the odd one out, never quite meeting the high expectations set by the clan. hanzo and genji excelled in their training, while you struggled to keep up. the pressure to conform to the strict traditions and expectations weighed heavily on your shoulders.

one fateful day, when hanzo had killed genji because...well... you had no clue why. but, you couldn't bear the weight of the clan's disapproval any longer. the revelation shattered what little connection you had with your family. in the dead of night, you disappeared without a trace, leaving behind the life of a shimada and all the expectations that came with it.

your journey of self-discovery took you to places far from the shadows of the clan. you reinvented yourself, shedding the identity of the black sheep. no longer bound by the stifling traditions, you focused on becoming the person you wanted to be. the dragon that accompanied you, golden and vibrant, symbolized your newfound strength and independence.

the years away from the shimada clan allowed you to build a life based on your own values and aspirations. you forged connections, honed your skills, and embraced the freedom that had eluded you within the confines of the clan.

now, fate leads you to overwatch, a beacon of hope in a world torn by conflict.

lena, aka tracer, ever the energetic guide, shows you around the place. the headquarters are a marvel of technology and camaraderie, but little do you know, your past is about to catch up with you.

as tracer introduces you to the various members of the team, you come face to face with hanzo shimada. the shock is palpable on both sides. for a moment, time seems to freeze as you lock eyes with the brother you thought you'd left behind.

"y/n?" hanzo stammers, his usually composed demeanor faltering.

"hanzo?" you respond, equally taken aback.

tracer, sensing the tension, awkwardly chuckles. "well, this is a bit unexpected. i'll just...uh, leave you two to catch up," she says, quickly making her exit with a zap, leaving you and hanzo in a charged silence.

the charged silence lingers for a moment, but eventually, hanzo breaks it. "i never thought i would see you again," he admits, his eyes betraying a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"yes, well, life takes unexpected turns," you respond, trying to maintain a casual tone, despite the whirlwind of emotions within you.

hanzo nods, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "you left the clan. why?"

a bitter smile plays on your lips. "the clan and i had different ideas about my future. i wanted something more, something beyond the confines of tradition."

hanzo's gaze softens as he takes in your words. "you always were the rebellious one."

"and you were always the dutiful son," you counter, a hint of sadness in your voice.

he hesitates before speaking again. "i've...changed. i have done things i never thought i would."

"joining overwatch must be one of them," you observe, glancing around at the bustling activity in the headquarters.

hanzo nods. "i seek redemption for the past. a chance to make amends."

the sincerity in his words tugs at your heart. "we all have our demons, hanzo. maybe this is the place to face them."

as you and hanzo continue your conversation, a cyborg enters the room. he locked onto you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze. it's an intense stare, one that leaves you puzzled and slightly uncomfortable. you wonder why this stranger is looking at you so oddly.

angela ziegler, also known as mercy, enters the room just in time to witness the peculiar interaction. "genji, is everything alright?" she inquires, concern etched across her features. the name sends a shiver down your spine, a strange familiarity resonating within you.

"genji?" you mutter, turning to hanzo with a puzzled expression. "did she just call him genji?"

hanzo sighs, realizing that the truth can no longer be concealed. "y/n, meet our brother, genji. he's not... completely as you remember him."

your eyes widen in disbelief, and you turn back to the cyborg, who is visibly tense. the realization hits you like a wave, and you stagger back, shock and confusion washing over you.

"genji... alive?" you manage to stammer out, your mind struggling to process the revelation.

genji, unable to face the weight of your reaction, hastily leaves the room without responding to angela. you stare after him, a flood of emotions overwhelming your senses.

hanzo watches as you process the shocking revelation. the air in the room becomes heavy with the weight of untold secrets and unspoken pain. with a hesitant sigh, hanzo begins to unravel the tale that had remained buried in the depths of your family's history.

"y/n, after that night, i... we believed genji to be gone, lost to the darkness within me," hanzo confesses, his eyes reflecting the regret that has lingered for years. "overwatch, and dr. ziegler, they gave him a second chance."

your gaze shifts between hanzo and the doorway genji disappeared through, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions surging within you.

"my mind blames me for what happened," hanzo continues, his voice tinged with remorse. "it's not entirely wrong. i took away the life he knew, the brother we knew."

meanwhile, genji, plagued by the fear of your reaction, finds solace in the shadows. angela attempts to comfort him, recognizing the weight of the family reunion.

hanzo looks at you, a mixture of regret and hope in his eyes. "i understand if you need time to process this, y/n. but please know, genji is still our brother."

hanzo takes another deep breath before delving into the details. "genji sought me out. we... we fought. i had no clue it was him. during that confrontation, he revealed himself, shared the truth of his survival."

your brows furrow in confusion. "why didn't he find me too then?" you ask, a sense of hurt lingering in your voice.

hanzo's gaze softens with a touch of sadness. "genji believed that if he confronted you, it would only bring you more pain. he thought it was better for you to believe he was gone, to spare you the burden of knowing what he had become."

the weight of genji's decision presses upon you, a mix of emotions swirling within. the revelation of your brother's existence and his deliberate choice to stay hidden for your sake adds another layer to the already intricate tapestry of your family's history.

"but now," hanzo continues, "with overwatch, our paths have crossed once again. the circumstances have forced us to confront the past, to face the choices we made and the consequences we now live with."

a heavy silence settles in the room, the weight of revelations hanging in the air. you and hanzo exchange a glance, both recognizing the need for time to process the complexities of the situation.

"y/n, i understand this is a lot to take in," hanzo acknowledges, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and understanding. "genji and i are here whenever you are ready to talk or... be a family again."

you nod in response, the turmoil of emotions making it challenging to find the right words. the shared history, the pain of loss, and the unexpected reunion create a tapestry of emotions that requires careful unraveling.

hanzo gives you a reassuring smile before excusing himself, leaving you alone to contemplate the newfound truth.

the night stretches on as you retreat to your room, the weight of the revelations settling into the silence of the space. the familiar surroundings offer little solace as your mind grapples with the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the reunion.

a persistent headache gnaws at your temples, a physical manifestation of the internal struggle. sleep eludes you, and the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the window casts a surreal hue over the room.

the next day dawns, the sunlight piercing through the curtains, casting a golden glow upon your surroundings. the world outside seems to carry on, indifferent to the storm of emotions brewing within.

with a heavy sigh, you decide to confront the lingering questions and uncertainties. the ache in your head intensifies as you make your way to the common areas, where you know genji often spends his time.

as you approach, you find genji quietly meditating, his cyborg form a testament to the battles he has faced. the room carries an air of tranquility, a stark contrast to the storm raging within.

"genji," you finally speak, your voice carrying a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

his gaze meets yours. there's a tension in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared history and the uncharted territory ahead.

"i wanted to talk," you continue, choosing your words carefully. "about everything."

the room is steeped in a heavy silence as you and genji begin to navigate the conversation, unraveling the layers of your shared history. genji's visor obscures his expression, leaving only the hum of the machinery beneath it as a testament to the transformation he underwent.

"i never wanted you to believe i was dead," genji finally speaks, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and understanding. "but i thought it was the only way to spare you from the pain of what i had become."

your gaze shifts from his visored face to the exposed hand that once belonged to a human, now encased in cybernetics.

"i never stopped thinking about you, y/n," genji admits, his gaze fixed on a distant point. "but i believed that the best thing for you was to live a life free from the burden of the shimada legacy... like you wanted.. like you needed."

the room remains a battleground of emotions until hanzo enters, sensing the need for unity. his presence adds a layer of calm to the storm, a reminder of the shared bloodline that binds the shimada siblings.

"hanzo," genji acknowledges, his tone a mix of acknowledgment and acceptance.

hanzo nods, a silent understanding passing between the brothers. "y/n, genji, we are family," he says, his voice carrying the weight of shared history and the potential for a new beginning. "we may not be able to change the past, but we can shape our future together."

the trio sits in the room, the air thick with the unspoken acceptance of each other's flaws and the determination to rebuild the bonds that had been strained by time and distance.

the conversation extends into the evening, a tapestry of shared stories, regrets, and the tentative hope for reconciliation. the room, once a battleground, transforms into a sanctuary where the shimada siblings forge a path toward healing.

#SHIMADA BROTHERS #hanzo shimada #genji shimada #overwatch 2 #overwatch #y/n #reader insert #ask #hanzo #genji #genji overwatch #hanzo overwatch

[fablefics]

My One and Only | Sebastian Sallow - Chapter One

Word Count (Chapter): 1270

Spoiler Warning: like the whole game idk I make a lot of references so if you don’t want spoilers just don’t read this yet lmao

This is very slow-burn, it’s gonna be a long one, strap in.

Five years after graduation, the Hero of Hogwarts has retired to life of peace on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and Sebastian Sallow has stepped in to fill the shoes of the late Professor Hecat, given his… history, it seemed a natural fit. However, it seems that the mysteries that lie deep within Hogwarts are not done with these two yet.

A/N - Fable is my MC but go ahead and replace it with your MC’s name, I just hate trying to write Y/N, I’m sorry. (Also, yes, Fable is the name I use online but it is very much not my real name lmao). I haven’t written fanfiction in a long time so please be nice but also criticism is welcome. I’ll probably put this on AO3 at some point but I’ll have to make a new account because the old one is long dead.

Sebastian felt a sinking feeling as the train rounded the last curve and the first glimpse of the castle came into his view. It had been five years since he had seen that view, and frankly, he never planned on returning to the castle. It held so many memories, some good, but many bad. He couldn’t help but think back to his fifth year, the year that changed his life. He wondered where Ominis and Fable were today, he hadn’t heard anything from either of them after graduation. He and Fable had maintained a close friendship during their final two years at Hogwarts, but, as things often go, they went their separate ways after graduation. Last he had heard, Ominis had gotten some important job at the Ministry, and Fable, well, she seemed to have disappeared entirely. The trained slowed as they reached the Hogsmeade Station, where Professor Weasley was meeting him.

As the train came to a stop Sebastian stood and grabbed his trunk from the shelf above him. He took a deep breath and left the train. There was a small crowd on the platform, but nothing like what would be there in just two short weeks, when the new term began. Professor Weasley’s owl had been, unexpected, for sure. Sebastian had been traveling the world since graduation, seeking out dark wizards and making them pay for their crimes. Of course, he was still searching for a cure for Anne, despite not having spoken to his twin in years. His business was not Ministry-sanctioned and as far as he was aware, nobody knew how to reach him, just another reason Professor Weasley’s owl had surprised him. He wondered how his old Professor knew his whereabouts, but decided it was probably better not to ask in order to avoid questions about his activities since leaving Hogwarts. The letter contained little information, simply that Professor Hecat, the beloved Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had passed under ‘suspicious circumstances’ and that Professor Black would like to offer her position to Sebastian. Though the professors did not know his intimate past with the Dark Arts, they knew he had some connection to them, and knew that he had spent a long time trying to make amends for that past. 

“Mr. Sallow,” the familiar voice made Sebastian smile, he couldn’t help it. Professor Weasley had always seen a light in every student, even the ones that couldn’t see it themselves. 

“Professor Weasley,” Sebastian turned to face her. She was shorter than he remembered, or perhaps, he was taller. The years had been kind to her though, she barely looked any different than she had on the day he had graduated. “It is good to see you again Professor.”

“Please, Sebastian, we are colleagues now, Matilda is fine.”

Sebastian nodded, although the idea of calling Professor Weasley, Matilda, did feel a bit odd to him. Part of him still felt like a fifth year, as if he had left a part of himself behind that year. He shook off the thought, “I was sorry to hear about Professor Hecat.”

Matilda’s face darkened a little at the mention of her late colleague, “Yes, it was sad news for us all. But perhaps, best to wait until we reach the castle for such discussions.”

Sebastian nodded, a bit confused at the Professor’s desire to keep the conversation private. The station was quiet, only a few witches and wizards were hovering about, most of them seemed far too busy meeting their own friends and family to care about a conversation between the two of them. However, he knew better than to question her, and without another word, she led him to a carriage that was waiting near the platform. He smiled, remembering the first time he had rode one of these carriages as a second year. How simple life was then. The thestrals who were pulling the carriage turned to him with a look that almost made Sebastian feel as if they knew him. 

Pushing aside the unsettling moment, he stepped in front of Matilda and opened the door of the carriage, “Let me get the door for you, Professor.”

Matilda smiled at him, not correcting him for continuing to refer to her as Professor Weasley, and stepped inside the carriage. Sebastian followed her inside and sat opposite from her. As the carriage began moving, Sebastian felt his stomach sink. He was going back to Hogwarts, the one place he had often dreaded returning to. He wondered if it would feel the same, if he would recognize the stone walls that he had called home for so long. Now, he had no home, he hadn’t stayed in one place longer than a few months, always having to pack up and leave when word started to spread about the sudden disappearances of dark wizards. It was the life he chose for himself, and, in many ways, the life he felt he deserved. 

Matilda broke the silence, “I assume you’re a bit anxious to be returning. It’s normal, you know, I couldn’t believe it when I returned to Hogwarts. I felt like a student again, nervous to start a new school year.”

Sebastian nodded, “I worry that I’m not prepared to be a professor. I don’t have your gift of faith, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your faith in the students, in the other professors. You see the best in everyone.”

Matilda laughed, “Do you think Professor Sharp sees the best in everyone?”

“Well, no. But he was never my favorite professor,” Sebastian felt the pit in his stomach grow at the thought of seeing the other professors, now that he was supposedly their equal. Many of them had made it clear that they did not appreciate his mischievous activities when he was in school, he wondered if they would still see him as that reckless teenager. He wondered if he was that reckless teenager. 

“Aesop Sharp is a gifted wizard, and while he may not be the warmest professor, he is one of the best men I have ever known. Sebastian, I would not have suggested you for this position if I did not believe you were the best fit,” Matilda smiled at the man, remembering the boy she had once known, “I always knew you were destined for great things.”

Sebastian was surprised at her words, out of all of his friends, he felt he was one who was probably the least destined to do anything great. Hunting dark wizards was the closest he felt he could get to even doing anything worthwhile. There was a silence that hung between them for a moment. The carriage was drawing ever closer to the castle, and Sebastian anxiety was growing with every pace of the thestrals. He had only two weeks to prepare for a semester of teaching, he thought of all his adventures since graduation, and wondered, how on earth can one even begin to teach a student about the things he had seen. The pain and suffering caused by these dark wizards was too much, even for him, at times. Neither he, nor Matilda broke the silence this time, instead they finished their ride to Hogwarts in silence, each of them sitting with their thoughts, and worries. The light outside the carriage was beginning to dim as the sun started to dip below the horizon, it cast a dark shadow on Sebastian’s face.

As the carriage passed through the front gate it came to a gentle stop and the two professors stepped out. Matilda finally broke the silence, “Well, Sebastian Sallow, welcome back to Hogwarts.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x mc #my one and only fablefics

[mikethepua]

Dealing with trust issues and infidelity in a relationship

a. Identify the root cause: Trust issues and infidelity can stem from a variety of causes, such as past experiences, insecurities, or unresolved conflicts. Identify the root cause of the issue to understand why it's happening and what needs to be done to address it.

b. Communicate openly: Communicate openly with your partner about your feelings of mistrust or betrayal. Be honest and clear about your emotions and your expectations moving forward. It's essential to have open and honest communication to rebuild trust.

c. Take responsibility: If you're the one who betrayed your partner's trust, take responsibility for your actions and apologize sincerely. Express your remorse and willingness to make amends. Take the necessary steps to rebuild your partner's trust, such as being transparent and consistent in your behavior.

d. Set boundaries: Setting boundaries can help rebuild trust and prevent future incidents of infidelity. Discuss and agree upon boundaries with your partner, such as being honest and transparent about your whereabouts or avoiding certain situations that may trigger feelings of mistrust.

e. Seek professional help: Dealing with trust issues and infidelity can be challenging, and it may be helpful to seek professional help. A therapist can help you both work through your emotions and develop healthy coping mechanisms.

In conclusion, conflicts and disagreements and trust issues and infidelity are significant challenges that can arise in any relationship. By practicing active listening, using "I" statements, taking a break, focusing on the issue, not the person, and seeking outside help if necessary, you can handle conflicts and disagreements effectively. By identifying the root cause, communicating openly, taking responsibility, setting boundaries, and seeking professional help if necessary, you can deal with trust issues and infidelity in a healthy and constructive way.

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[great-criminal-lawyers]

Why Destroying National Monuments a Criminal Offense

Construction activities are completely prohibited within the restricted and controlled areas of national historical structures or sites under the Ancient Monuments and Archaeological Sites and Remains (Amendment and Validity) Act 2010. The new rule has surprised individuals who damage historic buildings and property developers who encroach on the neighborhood around them.

The modified Act designates a 200-meter radius region as regulated and a 100-meter radius area as forbidden from the national monument's edge. According to the law, if the National Monument Authority deems it necessary, this restriction may be increased. Even if the work is done as part of community service, the act outright prohibits construction operations there.

Under the new legislation, the sentence for destroying, changing, or improperly using a protected monument has been doubled from three months to two years in prison and from Rs 5,000 to Rs 1 lakh in fines. Merely carrying out construction in the regulated area without first obtaining consent from the Competent Authorities is punishable by two years in prison and a fine of Rs. 1 lakh.

The law holds Central Government representatives accountable for successfully implementing the Act. If the aforementioned officials fail to monitor building activity, the legislation mandates three years in prison, a fine, or both.

Reasons for panelizing:

Modern structures are often constructed using conventional building supplies like concrete, masonry, and readily accessible metals. The fact that so many buildings constructed before 1900 are still standing is a monument to the skill and attention to detail these builders exhibited. These buildings were frequently constructed of superior materials that were intended to survive the hardest weather conditions. Rarer materials like heart pine wood, which was utilized to produce flooring, walls, doors, and other architectural components, were also used in early 1900s buildings. Due to over-harvesting, these materials are extremely rare nowadays and are only present in these old houses. Historic preservation makes it possible for historians to study the fundamentals of how a building was made and past human endeavors.

Seeing historical structures and buildings from a city's or town's history is a big part of local tourism. Those who are exploring a new place could find it interesting to imagine what life was like before the great global wars, before automobiles, and before cell phones. Older structures have a charm that contemporary structures cannot match. They include distinctive features like weathered masonry, cobblestone walkways, and vintage street lighting that appeal to older tourists and capture the imagination of younger ones. Tourists are drawn to a historic building's flaws, such as the indoor furnishings, the several levels found throughout the structure, etc.

Threats to demolish ancient structures are always met with a flood of opposition from residents who want to keep a city's art and complexity. Historic structures are constantly in danger from landowners and city planners seeking methods to boost property value and make money. Yet if you demolish a historic structure that has weathered two world wars and extreme weather to build a shopping center, the next generation of residents will never be able to appreciate its significance, and it will be lost for good. Not that we shouldn't improve on the past—historical structures frequently require renovation to keep them in top condition—but razing them and turning them into rubble erases a piece of history.

To guarantee that it serves as a deterrent and that no one dares engage in unlawful action as defined by the Act, the punishment has been strengthened. Officers of the Central Government who are caught engaging in any unlawful or unpermitted behavior under the Act will likewise face harsh penalties.

Article 49 of the Constitution of India provides strong protection for India's built heritage: " Every monument, location, or item of artistic or historic interest that has been proclaimed to be of national importance by the government or by a law passed by the parliament must be protected against deterioration, disfigurement, destruction, removal, disposal, or export, as the case may be''. The obligation of every Indian citizen is further stated in Article 51 A (f): "(g) to safeguard and improve the natural environment, including forests, lakes, rivers, and wildlife; and (h) to respect and maintain the rich heritage of our composite culture."

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[myricklxeramos]

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[mendozaluna9]

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[enderon]

Ah yes, nothing quite like a wonderful video analyzing and explaining the greatness of Yubel as a villain to reignite my eternal irritation at the wasted potential of Bakura and how the story ended for him

#i will never not be upset about how dirty bakura got treated #like based on the stuff that we learn about him in the millenium world arc #i can't necesarily say that i blame him for what he ends up doing #just #most of dms other villains got to be reformed #and bakura's story is a perfect situation for reformation #by way of acknowledgement of the horrible shit that happened to him #and when so much of yugioh has to do with growth #i feel like a much better situation for the memory arc #in order for things to not just turn out exactly as they did before #atem finds out the truth about what happened #and actively seeks to make amends for what was done in the past #showing his own growth in his time with yugi #and showing why it all happened at all #UGH #>:|

[indecisive-behaviors]

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

#meta analysis #ranting about cobra kai cuz I can #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #I will never get over the fact that that was an actual scene that they filmed #and then got no resolution #FOR 30 YEARS #I apologize to everyone for this post #obviously I have a lot of feelings about this

[cower-before-power]

Penny For Your Thoughts: Part 2

Summary: You’ve been harbouring feelings for your mighty squad captain for months. When you’re forced to share a bed during a mission, will you finally get the courage to tell him how you really feel?

Pairing: William Vangeance x GN Reader

TW: forced bed sharing (if that isn’t your thing)

Find Part 1 Here

A/N: This has been sitting half written in my Notes for ages, thought it was high time I completed it haha. Thank you to everyone who read Part 1, I really appreciate it. Please enjoy this conclusion, my sweet potatoes!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You finish, chest heaving, breath puffing like you have just run a race. You can’t even bear to look at him. Those soft violet eyes, the idea that they may be filled with pity and reproach at your words makes you sick to your stomach. You sit with your head hung, waiting for him to break your heart even further.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

The words that spill from his mouth have you whip your gaze to his form in shock. 

“Your heart is all I have wanted these past months,” he says quietly, looking at his hands. “I tried to deny it, tried to convince myself I was just latching onto your kindness, that I was too starved for friendship, but it was futile. Even the argument of you being under my command fell flat. All that you are, inside and outside, it calls to me. Every fiber of my being aches to be with you. To be someone you can be proud of, to be someone worthy of your love. But,” his eyes rise to meet yours, his face melancholy. “But how can I be? After all I’ve done? I do not think I can ever be....”

“You are!” you shout, unable to contain yourself. His first words don’t even register; you are too focused on his self loathing. “You made some bad choices, it’s true. But you admitted your weaknesses, your fault! You are trying to make amends. Owning up to your actions and actively seeking to help in the aftermath is the mark of someone with a good heart! You are good, William, and you are worthy of a love far greater than someone like me can offer.”

You stare at him intensely, as if you can make him believe you with only your eyes. His own are wide, and you can see tears beginning to glisten at the corners.

“You think so highly of me? Even after all that I’ve done?” His voice is small, like a child’s.

“Of course!” You say vehemently. “You’ve proven these months you are changed. You are making good on your promises to help rebuild, and to defeat the Spade Kingdom. If we tossed away every person that ever made a mistake, there’d be nobody left.”

He simply looks at you for a moment, awe painted across his scarred face. Then his lips stretch into a smile. 

“Well then, since you present such a compelling argument, my desires still stand.”

You suddenly remember the words he had spoken before you had tried to champion him. Your mouth opens and closes, your heartbeat picking up erratically. 

“You....you said...”

And he laughs, a beautiful pure sound like church bells ringing out a joyful morning melody. “Are you just now remembering that?” He reaches out and takes your trembling hands, the touch of his skin warm and comforting against your own. “It seems I must repeat myself. All I want is your heart, and I offer mine in return. Your words tonight have brought me joy I never thought possible. If you can accept me for all my faults and flaws, then I promise you have my love for as long as you wish it.”

Are you dreaming? This man, the man you have slowly tumbled head over heels for, the man you had planned to love from afar for the rest of your life, is saying that his desires align with yours? It can’t be possible. 

Well, if you are dreaming, you don’t ever want to wake up.

“I want it forever,” you vow, and your voice wobbles slightly. It’s a solemn request, one not taken lightly. But William’s face lights up with radiant rapture. 

“Then forever you shall have it,” he declares, and you feel something coil tightly around your heart. Both your words have the sincerity and finality of wedding vows, spoken promises of a life built together. It’s heavy for a first confession, but it doesn’t feel wrong. You know what you want; there isn’t any reason to go slow.

You can’t help yourself; your hands slip from his to reach up to his face. You pause, your fingertips hovering above his forehead. He smiles bashfully, a soft blush covering his cheeks as he nods slightly.

With permission granted, you close the gap and press your fingertips to the purple of his scar. He lets out a shaky exhale as you stroke the marred skin, his eyes closing at the gentleness of your touch. More tears gather at the corners; you brush them away tenderly. 

“William,” you say softly, reveling in the sound of his name falling from your mouth. His violet eyes open, and the warmth and tender affection you see in them nearly knocks you backwards. “William, I love you. Will you kiss me?”

His blush deepens, but he nods once more. You frame his face with your hands gently, leaning in slowly. His own hands come up to wrap around your wrists, anchoring you to him. You want to keep your eyes open, to keep staring at his beautiful face, but you find them slipping shut as your noses gently brush. Breaths hitch. Fingers tremble. Hearts flutter. Lips press together.

It’s shy and sweet, just a soft little thing, but it makes your whole body tingle from head to toe. Neither of you know much in the way of lovers, it’s true. But if the warmth spreading through you in any indication, you will enjoy learning.

He pulls away first, but only far enough to rest his scarred forehead against yours. 

“I love you as well,” he says quietly, and to actually hear the words from his lips is a new form of heaven on earth. “I love you ardently, desperately, completely.”

It’s your turn to flush red. You want to say something, but what else is there to say? There are no more words that need be uttered. So you lean forwards and press your lips once more to his, losing yourself in the sweetness of his mouth and the joy of his words.

“This certainly isn’t how I imagined spending the night together would go. Not that I’m complaining.” You say once you can tear your lips away from his. You rub your nose against his, thrilling as he returns the gesture. 

“Nor I,” he smiles. You fall quiet, just sitting there, foreheads together and noses rubbing gently in soft bunny kisses. 

Eventually you feel the urge to yawn; it seems sleep is finally catching up to you. William notices you trying to stifle the movement.

“Are you feeling tired now, my love?” he asks. When you nod, he moves to wrap his arms around you. You move so your face is pressed into the warm skin of his neck, feeling yourself being pulled downwards as he shifts to lie the both of you down. You snuggle contentedly up to him as he makes himself comfortable, keeping one arm around you as he pulls the bedcovers up over your entangled bodies. 

There’s no tension anymore, no heaviness of words unspoken. Everything has been aired out, and your mind and heart can finally be at peace. You feel your eyes grow heavy as he strokes careful fingers through your hair.

“Sleep now, my darling love. Sleep and have happy dreams. I will keep you warm and safe,” his voice drips through your foggy mind like sweet rainwater on an April evening. 

“I’ll dream of you,” you murmur. “And how happy you’ve made me.”

He chuckles. “That sounds like a lovely dream. I think mine will be the same tonight. And every night after.”

You clutch him tighter, a sleepy smile on your face. “Goodnight, William.”

Lips press against the crown of your head. “Goodnight, my darling.”

The moon still shines, but you don’t notice anymore. There’s only William, only the safety of his arms and the warmth of his love. 

You may have thought your feelings not worth a penny, but he has made them more precious than gold.

#william vangeance #william vangeance x reader #william vangeance x you #black clover #black clover x reader #black clover x you #william vangeance imagine #william vangeance fic #black clover fic #black clover imagine #my writing

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 14

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

This chapter sucks but it’s about to get super good!

Thomasin went straight to church in the morning to confess. She liked and trusted Elaine, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts with her yet, especially since her daughter was likely to eavesdrop. 

Not that she particularly trusted William’s priest to keep her confidence, especially considering what she planned to confess.

Her conversation with Charlie pricked at her mind like a sewing needle hidden in a bed might prick at her body.

Thomasin lowered herself to her knees and made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” It was the custom to confess at least once a month, but the past year’s events had altered everyone’s routines.

“What are your sins, daughter?”

“I have been unkind. I have blasphemed. I have not loved my neighbors. I have not kept the Sabbath day. I have been . . . amorous.” These were mostly the same sins as usual, but the amorousness was a new addition thanks to that week she spent in Henry’s lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked the priest.

Thomasin took a deep breath. “No. I have not yet - that is, I’m considering another sin. You won’t betray my confidence, Father, will you? That must surely be a sin. Is it not?”

“It is. No, child, I won’t betray your confidence and share your secrets. What is this sin you consider?”

“I’m thinking of . . . lying . . . to the king.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the curtain. “Explain.”

All at once, Thomasin’s story came rushing out starting with the night the Cavills took her prisoner to Charlie’s idea that she lie to the king about her virginity. “And I know I mustn’t bear false witness against my neighbor, but I am not bearing false witness against my neighbor, only myself. You see?”

The priest was silent for a long time. “Would it truly be so bad to marry Lawrence?”

“Yes!” He drove his wife to commit self-murder. Didn’t he? He didn’t seem actively cruel. Did he truly become so angry that he beat his wife until she lost the child in her belly? It seemed to Thomasin that he couldn’t be bothered to do such a thing, that he didn’t feel anything strongly enough to act in such a way – to act at all, really.

“I think so,” Thomasin amended. “I can’t be sure. But it cannot be good.” Of that, she was quite certain. 

“Is that the only reason you don’t wish to marry him?” asked the priest.

“There’s Henry, too, of course.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot bear the thought of Henry being with someone else.” The words stuck in her dry throat like fish bones. Lord. That was the first time she’d admitted it. It was painfully true. The idea of Henry bedding another woman, her bearing his children – it made her sick to her stomach. 

The priest sighed. “It is never easy to follow God’s laws. We all must make sacrifices to enter His Kingdom, for the road to Heaven is narrow and steep.”

“You think I ought to marry Lawrence? Don’t you know what happened to his last wife?”

“Seek solace in the spiritual world. Devote yourself to God. It is through Him that you will find comfort and joy.”

Thomasin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Wouldn’t God want His children to be happy? Didn’t He want Lawrence to be punished?

The priest told her to recite certain prayers to atone for her sins. She thanked him as graciously as possible and nearly stomped out of the chapel. 

She was being childish, she knew, but she could not help it. Most girls were married off at fourteen to men they did not know. She was some twenty years old and unwed. She spent her life being coddled and guarded by her father. And now she was a piece of chattel to be traded by men who did not know her or care for her wellbeing. 

She knew in her heart that Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give his arm for her if she asked him to. But it might not be enough. 

She believed that he was a finer swordsman that Lawrence – better than even King William, perhaps – but she also believed his honor made him vulnerable. Henry might be the finer warrior, but she suspected Lawrence had a great and dark mind. That could be just as dangerous. Sometimes more so.

Henry ordered her to let him deal with the matter. It was the only thing he ever truly asked of the woman he held so dearly and treated with such generosity and respect. But if it was in her power to preserve the life and limb of the man to whom she owed her own, how could she not? Surely he would understand. He must.

***

The next few days numbered among the most difficult in Thomasin’s life. She felt sick even after her courses passed; she’d worked herself into a fine state. She had an episode like this when she was young, around the time of her mother’s death. The healer, a monk, called it hysteria. She’d been blessedly free of it since then – it didn’t even happen when her father got sick – but now it was back, and it would not go away.

One of the Saxon prisoners died – of what, Thomasin did not know – and two more pledged their loyalty to William, even though it meant giving up everything they owned, including their dignity. They made their pledge in front of the entire court just before supper.

Thomasin and Henry were seated at the table at opposite sides, one chair over from each other. They could steal glances at one another during the meal, but they could not speak. Thomasin supposed that was the point. 

Lawrence had taken to sitting next to her most nights. They didn’t speak. Lawrence had ceased with the pleasantries after her comment about his last wife. He ignored her as much as possible, but he sneered whenever she spoke. 

Thomasin understood that he didn’t want this any more than she did, but he needed a wife to produce heirs and Thomasin was a gift from the king. He couldn’t refuse. He did still get pleasure out of the arrangement, for seeing him with Thomasin upset Henry to the point where he could hardly hold back his anger. Between Henry’s jealousy and Thomasin’s feistiness, conquering her was sure to be excellent sport.

The Saxon knights came forward and fell to their knees before the king and his wife and made their pledges. The other Saxons in attendance – mostly women, but a handful of warriors and former nobles that pledged themselves to the Normans early on – showed a range of emotions. Some of the men applauded their brothers for being sensible; others appeared to be ashamed. Most of the women looked like the wanted the whole thing over and done with, especially Elaine, who knew most of the Saxon prisoners either from tending their wounds or meeting them at court before the Norman invasion.

Henry’s reaction was surprising. He glared at the trencher of food in front of him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as though he were the one being forced to swallow his pride. Thomasin made no effort to hide her concern, and neither did Charlie.

He, of course, knew about Cerdic’s presence in the dungeon, and he worried that Henry would allow his emotions to get the best of him. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Henry was so upset. He thought Cerdic was dead already; soon enough he would be. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his part in the conquest. Thomasin had his head in knots. 

During the applause that followed the oaths, Henry shoved away from the table and made a beeline for the main doors without offering any excuse or explanation.

Thomasin looked quizzically at Charlie, who sat directly across from her. He shook his head. She stood up and went after him anyway.

The large corridor was mostly empty, except for a young couple kissing deeply in a shadowed corner and a handful of female servants walking back and forth between the hall and the kitchens. They gossiped as they walked, paying no attention to those around them.

“Henry,” Thomasin called, scurrying over to him. He had his shoulder leaned against the wall and he was rubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up at the sound of Thomasin’s voice and gave a weary smile. “You should not have followed me,” Henry said, trying to sound stern; he just sounded tired. He caught sight of his ring hanging from the chain around Thomasin’s neck. He held it in his hand, still hanging from her neck, and smiled slightly. 

“You followed me when I ran off in the woods,” she said. “I’m only returning the favor.”

“Or exacting your revenge,” Henry teased.

Thomasin shrugged her narrow shoulders and repeated Henry’s earlier words back to him. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

“This looks very fine on you,” Henry said of the ring. 

“Will you have a pendant made for me like your brothers’ wives and your mother?”

“Patience,” he said teasingly. In fact, he had commissioned a jeweler shortly after arriving in London, though the piece’s production was delayed because Henry didn’t have his ring to show the jeweler. Instead, he had to provide the man with his shield so he could study the symbols painted on it. It wouldn’t be very pretty, he thought, but as long as it was recognizable it didn’t matter.

He knew better than to seek to borrow Charlie’s ring when he arrived. He would lend it to Henry if he asked him to, but he’d certainly put up a fuss about it.

And then he remembered the Saxon awaiting his death three floors below them.

Henry’s smile faltered. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomasin murmured. 

Seeing Cerdic, simply knowing that he was alive and nearby, upset Henry. As far as he could tell, the man was a boar, and it would be no great loss to the world for him to die. But it still bothered him.

Cerdic didn’t know about Henry’s relationship with Thomasin, her betrothal to Lawrence, or even that she was at court. He had no fondness for Thomasin, it seemed, and he would certainly not treat her with respect if they were wed, but he was still a living reminder of the life the Normans stole from her. That Henry stole from her. He sometimes felt that Thomasin was as much a prisoner as her former intended.

She cared for Henry, of course, but he wondered how much of her affection was true – true, in that it would still be there if she were free of Norman rule – if she had the option to return home to her father and go on living as she did before.

More than that, he worried how Thomasin would feel if she knew Cerdic was here. He swore Roger and Charlie to secrecy, of course. Lawrence didn’t know of his intended’s former relationship with the red-bearded prisoner – if he did, he would surely use that information to inflict pain.

“The Saxons . . .” Henry shook his head. “I’m so tired of all this fighting.”

Thomasin took a deep breath knowing she was about to start a fight. “Then why do you insist on fighting Lawrence?”

Henry’s nostrils flared in anger; he let the ring fall back into place. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” she said apologetically. She stepped closer as he started pacing in a circle, one hand on his hip as he rubbed his brow with the other. His hair, still short by Saxon standards, was a small pile of tumbling curls stacked atop his head. But he still looked so handsome. “I just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m frightened! All right?!” How dare he make her say it out loud?

Henry stopped pacing. He tried to soften his features, but he was still stiff with nervousness. “It will be all right, Tom. Nothing will happen to you.”

“I don’t care about me!” she hissed. “I want to protect you just as much as you wish to protect me. Why won’t you let me?”

Henry was lost. “How?”

Kal let loose a warning bark that nearly made Thomasin jump. She hadn’t even realized he was in the hall with them. “Go,” she said to Henry. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Henry slipped past her just as Lawrence came into view, carrying a goblet of wine in one hand and holding the other behind his back. Henry tensed his muscles so hard he nearly shook. Thomasin nodded silently to assure him that she was all right. Henry stomped back into the hall as Lawrence took a long drink from his goblet of wine.

“Would you like some?” he asked Thomasin.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He tapped his fingernail against the rim of the glass. “You remember the nobleman’s family that I put to death?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips again.

What sort of a question was that? “Yes.”

“Do you think they would’ve been better off alive, surrounded by lustful soldiers?” Lawrence asked calmly. “Do you think the baroness would be pleased to see her young daughters beaten and defiled in the same home where she was once mistress? It was a mercy killing in some ways.”

Thomasin was silent. She’d considered such questions for months after the Normans landed up until the night Henry lifted her out of her hiding place. She always concluded that she would rather be dead than passed around like a brood mare. 

 “You’d never have been so lucky. That would’ve been your fate if the king weren’t so set on bringing your brother to heel, which he clearly cannot, and if anyone but the Cavills had come for you, you would’ve been tied and beaten into submission and raped nightly, not carried about like a babe with your virtue intact.”

“I know that,” Thomasin snapped. What was his point? “Are you truly surprised that I might wish to marry someone who would treat me well? Someone I know would never raise a hand to me?”

“I won’t deny that I struck my wife on more than one occasion,” Lawrence said. “She came to me when she was fifteen years old. Still a child in need of discipline. You’re more intelligent, more mature, and I think you will know better than she did. I was not the source of all her troubles, as much as you might like to think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I dislike the way that you fawn over Henry and regard me as the most heinous of villains. You should be grateful for your good fortune. You’re betrothed to a man capable of mercy toward women.” 

Beating his wife was mercy? He likely just meant that he wouldn’t take her against her will, and that was a great mercy indeed for women. Beating wasn’t so heinous, Thomasin supposed, but that didn’t mean she was all right with it.

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t. I care about whether or not my peers perceive me as weak, though, and I won’t have a wife who runs after another man anytime he frowns.” His voice remained even but his whole face had gone bright red with anger. “We’re to be wed next week. Once you are mine, I won’t tolerate such behavior. A wife obeys her husband in all things; you will not embarrass me by fawning over a weakling. Should you continue to do so, I won’t hesitate to show you my displeasure. Am I clear?”

The calm with which he spoke was unsettling. God’s truth, Thomasin would have felt better if he shouted. 

Thomasin dipped her head. “I understand, my lord.”

Lawrence’s face returned to its normal color and a smile bloomed across his face. “Good.” He gave Thomasin a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

She didn’t notice Elaine and her daughter standing nearby until Elaine called out to her. “Thomasin?” She scurried over to her friend. “Are you all right?” Thomasin swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “Here. Come with me.” She released her grip on Mercia to pull Thomasin around a corner for greater privacy, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “What’s happened?”

Thomasin didn’t realize all the color was gone from her face or that she was quaking like a leaf. “I’m fine.”

“Mamma?” Mercia said.

“A moment, my love,” her mother told her. “She was falling asleep at the table; I was leaving to put her to bed,” she explained to Thomasin. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation.”

“I don’t care about that,” Thomasin said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t hear anything clearly,” Elaine said over her. “I only saw that he was talking to you and the look on your face.”

Mercia wasn’t paying attention to what the women were saying, she only saw the sadness in Thomasin’s eyes. “Why you crying?” she asked, eyebrows knit together. Thomasin noticed for the first time how cherubic the child appeared.

“I’m not crying.” Thomasin honestly didn’t think she was. And she wasn’t really, in that there were no tears, but she certainly looked distressed.

The child wouldn’t accept the non-explanation. “Mamma, why she crying?”

Elaine released her friend’s hands and crouched to look her daughter in the eye. “Go back inside, please. Lady Thomasin and I are speaking. I’ll take you to bed just as soon as we’ve finished.”

“But she sad!” Mercia objected. She looked around. “Where Bear? Bear make you happy. I go find!” She was still upset with Kal for assaulting Batty, but she trusted in his ability to bring joy to others.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Thomasin said with a sniffle. “I don’t want to bother him.” The last thing she needed was for Henry to be involved.

Mercia frowned for a moment before thrusting her doll up toward Thomasin’s face. “Take,” she commanded. “Batty make you feel better.”

Thomasin swallowed again and reached out numb fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she held a doll. “Thank you.”

“Not for always,” Mercia said, holding up a finger. “You keep just until you feel better.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Elaine and Mercia walked Thomasin back to her room. Elaine gave Etheldreda some instructions. “Mercia, can Lady Thomasin borrow some of Batty’s magic?”

“Just a little bit,” Mercia agreed.

Elaine smiled in thanks. She tore the doll open just enough to pull out some of the dried lavender, which she instructed Etheldreda to put in hot water for Thomasin to drink. “It will keep you from getting upset. I’ll send along some more herbs to help you rest. And more of Batty’s magic,” she assured her daughter. She turned back to Thomasin. “It won’t seem so bad in the morning. A good night’s sleep always helps.”

“I don’t think I can shut my eyes,” Thomasin said.

Elaine smirked. “Sleeping drafts are my specialty.” She didn’t mention that the drafts were the only thing that kept her from going mad when the Normans arrived. Without them, she’d spend all night staring up at the ceiling, clutching her daughter to her chest, praying for mercy from God and the invaders both. 

She slipped away to put Mercia to sleep while Etheldreda prepared Thomasin for bed she sent a servant back with a pack of herbs for Etheldreda to make a sleeping draft and a handful of lavender to replace Batty’s stuffing.

Thomasin watched the fire flicker until the draft was ready. Etheldreda watched her drink, ensuring she drained every drop. Thomasin wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“Lie down,” said Etheldreda.

Thomasin shuffled down in the bed as her maid drew the covers over her. “Etheldreda, have you ever been married?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

“Did you love your husbands?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did they ever beat you?”

The old woman frowned. “Peasant women can be lucky on occasion. Sometimes we get to choose our husbands.” She tucked Batty under the covers beside Thomasin. “Shut your eyes and rest.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Thomasin said skeptically. She was asleep moments later.

**

Thomasin woke around noon the following day. She was still in a daze, so she decided to keep to her rooms for the day. She’d go visit Henry once she was feeling better.

Etheldreda drew her a steaming bath to ease her into the waking world. She washed and brushed her mistress’s hair, as there was too much of it for Thomasin to manage on her own. She told little stories about her daughters and granddaughters. She had sons, too, Thomasin thought, but she didn’t talk about them. Thomasin guessed they were killed in the war.

A servant dropped off some bread and cheese so Etheldreda and Thomasin did not need to leave the room for their nooning meal. Thomasin did feel better, she thought as Etheldreda laced the back of her simple gown. 

The servant had only just finished when someone pounded on the door so hard that it shook. “Thomasin!” It was Charlie’s voice.

She pulled the door open, knowing immediately that something bad had happened. “What is it?”

Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily; he’d clearly run from wherever he had been to Thomasin’s room. “Henry’s challenging Lawrence.”

“Today?”

“Now!” Charlie said. “If you want to help him, we must go.”

Thomasin didn’t even stop to put on her slippers. She ran alongside Charlie, damp hair loose and whipping around her. The people they passed looked at her like she’d gone mad. Maybe they thought she was drunk for presenting herself in public like that. Or a strumpet.

They finally reached the throne room.

Charlie shoved the doors open and Thomasin rushed inside. Henry had removed his glove and prepared to throw it down; Thomasin surged forward and managed to grab it out of his hand before he could and careened toward the dais and the king.

She fell so heavily on her knees that she scraped the skin. She’d have awful bruises tomorrow. It didn’t matter.  She stared up at the king with enormous eyes. “Your grace, they can’t fight,” she gasped. “Please don’t let them fight.”

“Thomasin,” Henry snarled.

“There’s no need for them to fight,” Thomasin said over him. She refused to turn and look at him.

William raised an eyebrow. “No need? Does this mean you’ll marry Lawrence willingly?”

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was far too harsh but she prayed William would excuse her given the circumstances. “But – I cannot be his wife. Not truly.”

William asked, “Why?”

Oh, God help her. This stupid, stupid girl. Charlie’s plan might not work but she at least had to try.

“Because. Because I’m not – I’m – I’m not a virgin!”

#henry cavill #the cavillry #melot #Tristan and Isolde #whatever works #Stardust #humphrey #RPF #the tudors #jersey #Charles Brandon #duke of suffolk #superman #superhero #kal-el #clark kent #Daily Planet #man of steel #justice league #zack snyder #snyder cut #the witcher #geralt of rivia #the white wolf #the man from uncle #Napoleon Solo #Guy Ritchie #mission impossible #fallout #john lark

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 10:  Reparations

AN:  Yaaaaaayyyyy I got this one done.  For some reason I’ve been in a weird spot where I write more on my phone and my focus is better when I write on my phone, but I’m also super vulnerable to typos because AUTOCORRECT and its just harder for me to spot on the smaller screen with the tiny text, so excuse any typos.

Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Petra, Oluo (Mentioned), Eld (Mentioned)

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language.  Ikr, we just got super tame after a wiiild ride.

Word Count:  5124

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

“I’ll admit, it would have been nice to know ahead of time that you were going to hijack the interrogation like that to antagonize her.”

Levi ignored the pointed jab at his actions down in the dungeons, gaze instead roaming around and taking stock of the people they past in a surveillance instinct too ingrained into his being by now for him to shut it off even going down the street towards a tea shop.

Considering L/N could hear so far out, even when she wasn’t paying attention, Erwin and Levi had decided to leave headquarters entirely to have this conversation.  Which was why they were now headed for a tea shop instead of Erwin’s office to discuss something so confidential.  Or at least their opinions on the situation, not necessarily the information itself.

"Did you at least get what you wanted out of it?" Erwin asked as they took seats at one of the outside tables.

"I did.  Mostly.  You?"

"I was skeptical when you told me, but after that little display of hers, she's clearly not human.  Not anymore."  Erwin leaned back in his seat and appraised Levi, their conversation pausing momentarily as they placed their order with the waitress that came outside to check on them.  Once she went back inside, Erwin continued.  "If you have more questions, why didn't you ask them before we left?"

"It had nothing to do with why we were there.  Personal curiosity. And it didn't seem like the time to ask."

Especially after he'd goaded her like that, making jabs at painful memories for her until she reacted, throwing harsh accusations at her semi-blindly and seeing if anything stuck.  The last thing she would want to do would be to give clarifying details about her past traumas to satiate his curiosity.

Her tale made her origins make more sense, but there were a few details that still weren't so clear to him.

The way she explained it, she was attacked and turned by a vampire the night before--for reasons unknown, he noticed.  She hadn't said why she was turned, or by who.  She'd actually glossed over that part and moved on--and then went home, not knowing what happened to her, thinking she was sick.  Her friend came to visit her, Y/N lost control, attacked and killed her, then fled.  He was sure there were details to make the tale far more gruesome, but this was what he knew for sure without letting his imagination run wild.

But then she'd shown up dead a few days later as well.  That was the part he was trying to figure out.

“Some deaths, okay, fine, I'll come back from it.”

So, she ran away after the initial panic, and then came back solely to fake her death so they wouldn't keep looking for her.

And by fake her death, she went for a...temporary death, something she would come back from.

But why go so far as to let herself be buried?  It was a closed casket funeral, so she could have snuck out before they sealed the casket and no one would have known.  Why wait?

He hadn't forgotten the fear and trauma in her eyes when she'd mentioned being buried alive was one of her deepest fears.  And now the mental image in his mind of a woman clawing desperately at a coffin, screaming for help while no one could hear her had a face to go with it, the face of someone he knew, no less.

It was humanly impossible to break out of a grave and crawl your way out.  But if you had vampire strength, and every time you suffocated from the lack of oxygen or the dirt crushing down on you and maybe even getting into your lungs...then it was possible. So long as you died a few times on the way up.

Shit...something like that had to do some damage to a person.

Not to mention what came after.  Forty years living in the Underground, roughly.  He'd only been down there a little over half the time she had.  And he hadn't spent it like she had--skulking in the shadows killing people because what she was demanded she kill to survive no matter where she was, and she couldn't go above ground not because it was denied to her, but because if she did she would literally die.  Yeah, he'd killed plenty of people in the Underground as well, but far less, and for a reason that was entirely different even if it could be worded the same.  He killed in fights because the Underground was that dangerous, or he was protecting people he cared about.  She had to actively hunt and kill people to...feed.

If she'd been in the Underground before he was even born...he wondered if they had ever crossed paths, and he just didn't remember.

Hell, with her criteria for who she hunted and killed, he was surprised she hadn't killed Kenny in all that time with him Underground.

Or maybe she had, after Kenny left.  It wasn't like Levi would know.  Though he was fairly certain the man had gone topside, which would mean out of her reach and away from her hunting grounds.

If only there was an alternative to her diet.  She’d laid out why it couldn’t be helped, and he understood that, they were good reasons.  But still, if there was another way...

“You're thinking about something rather hard over there, Levi,” Erwin commented, and Levi realized he’d been staring intently at the table and had even failed to notice that the waitress was in the process of delivering their tea.  Erwin was also watching him, though his hands were still in motion, his analytical gaze fixated on Levi’s still form.  Shaken out of his thoughts, Levi leaned back so he wasn’t leaning forward intently anymore, picking up his teacup to start drinking before it got cold.  Erwin waited until the waitress left to continue talking.  “Is it something I should know about her?  Another hunch, maybe?  The last one was mostly right.”

Levi snorted softly at that.  Mostly right his ass.  He’d been thinking murder and treason and assassinations, someone out to get them, someone seeking to harm people in the Scouts.  Ulterior motives and selfishness, malice.

Maybe the murder hadn’t been that far off, considering her body count, if he did the math right in his head.  And maybe she had been hiding a secret.  Perhaps she was dangerous, but so was Levi.  It didn’t mean she was an enemy.

“No,” he said curtly, putting an end to Erwin thinking Levi might be holding out on him regarding his suspicions after how off they’d both been about this situation.  “Like I said, it doesn't have to do with whether or not she's trustworthy and if she should be in the Scouts.  Just personal curiosity.”

“So you believe her?  About her intentions?” Erwin asked casually before taking a sip from his cup, eyes cast down as he spoke but flickering up to gauge Levi’s reaction once he finished speaking.

Levi eyed him because of the look on his face, but answered nonetheless.  “...I do.  She was sincere down there, some would say too honest.  Most people try to hide the fact they’ve killed hundreds--thousands--of people, or that they could kill the people who didn’t trust them without blinking an eye, but she was upfront about it.  She didn’t have to be.  She’s dangerous, that’s a reality no matter how you look at it, but she’s attempting to channel that into helping instead of just causing damage.”  Levi sighed, setting down his cup.  “I assumed a lot about her intentions and where she came from, and it's going to bite me in the ass.”

And he was probably going to have to put some effort into making amends after all this--especially with how he’d antagonized her down there and clearly crossed a boundary.  Several boundaries, actually.  And now that the moment had passed, the guilt was starting to settle in.  He’d accused her about some harsh stuff, some of which she was sensitive about, given her reactions.  She was the one who had to live with what she was, so he doubted someone going after the very things you might cling to in order to retain your humanity was something anyone would take kindly to.  After she saved his life--even if it had also been her that had almost killed him to begin with--after she protected him from herself and other vampires, even if he wasn’t aware, after she’d gone out of her way to learn from and appease the entire squad, after going through years of training to get where she was now, after putting so much at risk when she could have stayed safely in the shadows, after trying so hard to find a place topside, he’d jabbed at pretty much everything.  Her basic motives, her humanity, her intentions, her personality, everything.

He had a lot of damage control to do moving forward if they were going to keep working together.  He sincerely hoped he’d only damaged the well and hadn’t poisoned the water.  A damaged well he could fix, but a poisoned water supply…

Levi’s gaze narrowed at Erwin as he realized the other man still hadn’t said anything, his suspicions solidifying.

“What about you?  Do you think she’s a risk you’re willing to take?” Levi asked, echoing her words from down in the dungeon Levi had immediately known would catch Erwin’s attention.

“I am a man who likes a good gamble,” Erwin said with a bittersweet smile, resting his cheek on his fist as he considered the situation before them.  “As long as she’s not attacking other Scouts, she’s trying to keep her bloodlust under control, she’s not causing problems for or bringing more danger upon the Scouts...I don’t see why we shouldn’t let her stay.  From the sounds of it, having a vampire willingly join our ranks wanting to use all those abilities to help our cause is a once in a lifetime chance.  She’s offering it on a silver platter.  As long as she can keep herself under control, which she’s been able to do so far, I say we take her up on her offer.”

“And if she can’t?  If something happens and she loses control?” Levi asked, eyebrows raised.  She’d said it herself, she was a threat, there was always a chance something could happen, and that shouldn’t be forgotten.  But what would they do if she did slip up with no sign of being able to correct herself before it got out of hand?

“Then she’ll be our responsibility to take care of,” Erwin said evenly, gazing at Levi in a way that made him believe Levi would be the one to take care of her if she stepped out of line.  He had the best chance, yes, but it would still be risky.  “Hopefully we won’t have to kill her if anything goes wrong, she’s valuable, and it would be a huge setback to lose her vampire abilities...but if it ever comes to that…”

“It won’t be a problem,” Levi said flatly.  He meant that in the matter of conflict of interest, not that killing her if it ever came to that wouldn’t be difficult.

Erwin nodded.  “She stays in the Scouts, then.  I’ll have to factor in all this new information about where best to put her.  She probably shouldn’t be anywhere near medical, for her sanity’s sake.  And Levi?”  Levi fixed him with a stare as if to ask what the hell was up with his change of tone, which Erwin ignored.  “Considering the strangling tension between the two of you down in the dungeon, are you going to ease up now that you have the story--for the most part--or do I need to switch her to a different squad?”

Levi scoffed.  “I’m not going to apologize for being angry about the fact that she kills people, Erwin.”

“It's not like she has much of a choice, from the sound of it.  And she’s doing rather well, given her situation.  A lot of thought had to have gone into coming topside and joining the Scouts, how to pull it off.  She was ready with those questions, and considering she wasn’t planning on us figuring out what she was, that means she already went over those questions herself.  She’s going with what she believes to be the best route, and considering she’s more of an expert on the subject than we’ll probably ever be…”

Levi waved him off--he didn’t need this explanation, he already knew this.  She wasn’t going to prey on innocent people, she couldn’t afford to downgrade her diet too much considering she needed to be in peak health and control fighting in the Scouts, and she couldn’t just stop unless she wanted to die a slow and agonizing death.

Starvation over decades, maybe even centuries…

Regular starvation was bad enough, he knew that from personal experience.  He couldn’t imagine going out like that--he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.  Especially self-inflicted.

Levi’s gaze wandered to the few people in the street, moving idly from one person to the next, not really paying them any attention beyond basic people watching as he brought himself to his decision.

While he understood her position, that didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with it.  But was he willing to try and make this work, to keep her on his squad--this time as his decision, not a decision Erwin made in the name of surveillance--and see if things could still work out despite the mess this entire ordeal had turned into that almost ended in his death.

Was it a damaged well, or poisoned water?

Was he going to cut his losses, or try to fix this?

“...Don’t put her on another squad,” he finally told Erwin.  “She’ll still have her skills put to the best use with my Squad.  I’ll figure out how to deal with...everything.”

He was going to try and make this work, despite the current friction between them.

The only question now, was how?

Erwin was the one to tell L/N that she was staying in the Scouts, of course, and by extension he was also the one to tell her she'd remain on Levi's squad, and that it was Levi's job to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed in line.  As for Levi, it was back to business as usual while Erwin handled speaking with L/N.

And two days later, Levi abruptly decided that everyone was going to do a deep clean of HQ, assigning everyone at least one room, with L/N having two considering how fast and how well she cleaned, and himself having three so that he had plenty of time to think while he was cleaning.

Now that his concerns about betrayal and deceit had been assuaged, he could finally allow the softer sides of her he’d glimpsed to settle in his mind, too.  Between the darker side he now had a better picture of and the person he’d been seeing since she joined the Scouts, he could finally form a more complete picture of the new person on his squad and start to decide what he thought of her.

Any lingering concepts in his mind that she wasn’t up to the job went out the window--except for a general concern about her being around too much blood.  She hadn’t been in the middle of a truly hairy expedition with people dying left and right.  She’d been struggling when he was bleeding out in front of her--what would it be like when there were people dying bloody all around her?

Then again, she’d already pointed out that his blood was particularly alluring.

That was still an odd thing to think about--he was probably going to do his best not to think about it.

He wasn’t too worried about her being able to hand the more...psychological stresses of being a Scout.  If she could handle being directly responsible for death, and being around it so much after living in and hunting in the Underground, she might fare better than most in the environment.

If it hadn't been the sharper, harder edge he'd seen to her personality in the dungeon, the knowledge of the things she'd already seen and been through, he'd be worried she had too soft of a temperament and personality for the Scouts.  It had been what he'd seen from her before the whole vampire thing came out.

She was the woman who went out of her way to comfort the horses and make sure they knew they could trust her.  Who sat in the field with the horses and simply soaked in the sun's rays while drawing whatever she could see--namely horses, at least once the man who had been watching her, yet she never said a word.  She was the woman with a tea garden in a hidden corner of the Scout’s headquarters so that she could save more of her salary...and use it to shelter and provide for the parents who didn't know, and would probably never know, they're daughter was still alive.   The woman who snuck treats out to the horses from her own plate, who'd gotten at least half of Levi’s squad drinking their tea with a bit of white sage for health purposes--only Levi aware of just how much it was actually doing for them.  The one who had asked for a different kind of lesson or tutoring from each squad member so they wouldn’t feel like she was some air-headed newbie that thought she was better than everyone because she was put on a fast track to Levi’s squad fresh out of the cadets, so that they could feel like they were still teaching her something, that she was learning from them.  She was the kind of person who made little gestures like covering him with her cloak when she saw him asleep at the table without a second thought, or timing a fresh cup of black tea almost perfectly to help keep him alert when despite his insomnia he would start to feel tired in the middle of the day, who'd risked the loss of a leg to make sure Eld wouldn't get hurt even after Levi killed the Titan, and who had saved his life even though, at the time, doing so was a great risk to her, because he could put a swift end to the life she'd been trying to build above ground.

She was a good person at heart.  Complicated as hell, still dangerous and a risk, and she had her skeletons, her demons and dark secrets, her flaws...but still, a good person at heart.

He’d been watching her closely long enough to pick up on all of that and then some, even if he’d tucked most of it away for later evaluation considering at the time he was worried it might be a front for some insidious ulterior motive.

And he had to do something to try and mend the relationship they had.  They couldn't function as part of a squad with all this tension and friction, let alone as captain and subordinate, definitely not as a team.  There had to be some level of trust if they were going to be working together in the future, and right now, there was pretty much none, mostly because of him.  And he had to be the one to make a first step towards repairing the damage that he had inflicted so that they could start building at least the groundwork of a working trust in one another.  They would need it when they went out in the field, because all that raw ability meant nothing if they couldn’t function with each other.

Levi scrubbed harder at the stone floor, seeing his fingertips turn pale with the rest of his hands red from the hot soapy water and the pressure he was putting on the brush.

"Captain?"

Levi sighed, leaning back and putting the brush back into the water, turning and lowering the cloth over his face to look over at Petra standing in the doorway with a broom in hand.

"Oluo says he's done with his room, he's just waiting for your inspection," she informed him, though the look on her face was enough to tell him he'd be telling Oluo to do it all over again as soon as he saw it.

"I'll do it when I'm finished," Levi answered, raising the cloth over his face and pulling out the brush to start scrubbing again.  "Tell him to make sure he's finished while he waits."

"Yes, Captain," Petra said with a small nod, turning to leave.

"Has L/N finished with her two rooms?" Levi asked before she could leave entirely, focused on a new spot of stone as he spoke instead of looking up at her.

"Yes, sir.  She actually went outside, out front, to do some extra cleaning while she waited for you to be ready to inspect the rooms."

She was also really good at cleaning.  She had to be, right?  She'd lived below ground longer than he had, and her senses were extra sensitive.  One bad smell must be torture for her, the dust probably setting off her sensitive nose with the slightest buildup, her sight probably making it easier to pick out grime, and her speed making her a faster cleaner than anyone here--when she didn't have to slow down because she was being watched by someone who didn't know what she was.  No wonder she was so damn good at cleaning, why he hadn't found any flaws with it to date.

It almost felt like cheating to him, for some reason.

He pressed unnecessarily hard down on the brush again, feeling the bristles bend and strain slightly in the brush, his fingertips turning pale again.

"Tell her when she's finished with whatever she's doing right now to come up here," Levi told Petra, offering no more explanation as he continued scrubbing at the floor.

“Yes, sir.”

Petra left after that, and Levi focused on the room around him--his third room, mind you, and he was almost done.  His hands were red, a little raw, too, but it wasn’t anything serious.  He just kept getting lost in his thoughts while he was cleaning, and instead of calming down like he normally did when he cleaned, he’d tense up at those moments where he got lost in his thoughts.  He was going over his attempt at a peace offering over and over again, well aware that he wasn’t the best...people person, that communication on a social or emotional level was not his strong suit.  But he was hoping the intention behind the gesture would be clear.  She wasn’t an idiot--she was smart.  There was a decent chance she’d be able to see what he was trying to do.

Hopefully.

Levi was just starting to finish up, finishing with a bit of polish on the metal in the room when L/N finally made her appearance, standing in the doorway with similar cleaning additions to her uniform as him, though she had an apron on that was currently tucked up and into her straps to keep any dirt from falling onto the floor while she walked.

She must have been doing some garden and yard work, then.  Pulling weeds or something like that out front.  At least she wasn’t tracking dirt everywhere, from what he could see--and his eyes were scanning her and her surroundings carefully to make sure she wasn’t about to ruin his hard work.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” she asked formerly, keeping her gaze fixed on him instead of letting it wander around the room at anything other than him.

That was a start, at least.  He’d be worried this entire rebuilding the bridge thing wouldn’t work out well if she couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

But the tension was still there, thick and uncomfortable, enough to put even him on edge.  There was a distance in her posture, a different kind of guarded than when he’d been snooping around and watching her every move.  Like she was hyper-aware of what he was going to think of her moving forward.

He was still coming to a decision about that one, honestly.

“You’re going to start training with me,” Levi said with no lead up, causing her eyebrows to raise in surprise, opening her mouth like she was about to ask questions before she quickly closed it again, since he continued to talk as if her reaction didn’t phase him in the slightest or give him any kind of pause.  “You’ve got some things to work on before the next expedition.  Two lessons a day, sparring and ODM gear.  Make sure you make the time for it.”

“Ah, Captain...I’m not sure if I...should…” she said hesitantly, caught between obeying what was close to a command from her Captain and a reluctance to take him up on the lessons because...what, was the tension that bad for her that she didn’t think she could train with him?  Did she not want to be anywhere near him any more than she already was?  Did she think she would make him uncomfortable?  Did she not like the thought of being alone with him?

That was a viable concern, actually.

Or maybe she just thought there wasn’t anything he could teach her.

On the contrary--she’d said herself that she was having trouble with the ODM gear.  She’d said one of her risks was that she reacted too fast for the gear to keep up with her, sometimes.  That was a problem, especially in a situation where one needed to rely on instincts--how could you rely on instincts while also trying to muffle them to lower to the level of the gear, or nearby people?

She needed help finding the middle ground, or at least training herself to instinctually pace herself so she didn’t outpace the gear in an emergency.  Like she’d pointed out herself, that kind of mistake could be the difference between life and death, even for her.

As for the sparring...well, the only people here that came close to matching their skills was each other.  Who else were they going to spar besides each other?  Besides, it would be refreshing to have someone he could actually go all out on that would be a challenge for him.  He was sure the same applied for her, now that she didn’t have to hold back to keep her secret hidden.

If that had been the reason she’d thrown the fight the first time they’d sparred.

Plus, all that raw strength and speed meant nothing if she didn’t know how to use it.  He could still teach her things, show her some techniques she could use in a fight, that kind of thing.

Is offer to teach her was his way of offering an olive branch to her...and he didn’t take too kindly to her starting to turn down the offer.

Levi narrowed his eyes slightly at her as she continued to cast about for a solid excuse to turn him down.  Most people here would kill for one on one lessons from him--a fact he was well aware of.  Yet here she was, proving just how out of the ordinary she was as she seemed to be beyond just the vampire thing, trying to weasel out of it.  “What?  Don’t think you have anything to learn because you’re so naturally gifted?” he asked in a jab much softer than his accusations during their interrogation.

“No, it’s just…” she started to say with a frustrated sigh, looking over her shoulder like she was looking at someone, even though no one was there.  “Eld’s already giving me ODM gear lessons…”

Was that really it?  He doubted it.  Yes, Eld was teaching her a few things, Levi was aware, but it wasn’t the same as what Levi was offering to teach her.  And it wasn’t a reason to turn him down in the first place.  Just another excuse.  Unless she was really worried about what the others would think if she got not only one daily private lesson with Levi, but two.  As much as Levi was usually of the opinion “To hell what other people think,” this one he could see where she was coming from if it was the case.  She’d just gotten the others to warm up to her despite their grumbling and cold shoulders after the extremely green rookie got sped through all the tape and obstacles right into Levi’s Squad while they put in hard work and were hand picked by Levi after some time in the Scouts after displaying their own strengths and skills over a period of time.  It must have looked like favoritism--and Levi giving her double private lessons wasn’t going to help anything.

It didn’t change the fact that she still needed them or could benefit from them.  And that it was a way for them to start making amends...in a roundabout way.

“ODM techniques.  Special maneuvers:  team and solo, correct?” Levi asked, mostly rhetorically, though she still nodded in confirmation.  Levi moved over to the table he was keeping his cleaning supplies on, starting to pack up his things so he could leave to start doing inspections of everyone’s designated rooms.  “I’m not going to be teaching you what Eld is.  You said you were having problems with reacting too fast for the gear, right?”

Levi spoke pointedly, giving her a sidelong glance so he could gauge her reaction and she could see he was serious about this--and that he didn’t have any ulterior motives.  She didn’t protest again.  She still looked a little uncomfortable, possibly because of the bump this could cause with the others once they found out, maybe because it meant the two of them were going to be spending more time with one another and they were going to have to get over this tension between them really quickly if they didn’t want to end up at each other’s throats trying to kill each other, but she didn’t protest anymore.

“Four a.m. in the woods for hand to hand.  Two hours before dinner on the training grounds for the ODM gear.  Don’t be late,” Levi told her, taking his supplies and leaving her behind in the room as his way of dismissing her.

Now to go yell at Oluo for not getting his cleaning job done properly, most likely.

Next Chapter---->

(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)

Levi Tags:  @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo​ @whalerus​  @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse @subtlepjiminie @hakunamatatayqueen​ @queenofcurse @linxiajei17 @levisbebe @toni-jones

#Levi #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #aot levi #levi snk #snk levi #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #aot levi x reader #levi x vampire!reader #captain levi x vampire!reader #aot levi x vampire!reader #levi ackerman x vampire!reader #levi fanfic #Levi fanfiction #levi fan fic #levi fan fiction #captain levi fanfic #captain levi fan fiction #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi fan fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fan fiction #levi ackerman fan fic #aot levi fanfic #aot levi fanfiction

[punemy-spotted]

hi tessa! How are you doing? I know it’s been horrible around here recently, but I just wanted to say seeing your sweet self back around has made me so happy!! as i say that though I never want you to feel pressure to be around, i know life is a lot

I have a few questions if you’re game!

🥀 and 📚

And then also, this is super random, but I’d love your take on this. As the angst queen, do you headcannon any character in particular as being especially good at groveling/apologizing? I almost think Andy would be? But my immediate thought is Bucky? Just a ransom question I wanted to pick your brain about!

Feel free to answer any combo of what I’ve asked if you’re not feeling something! Wishing you all the best and giving you some of those smooches you always share with me 😘

Hello my darling! I'm doing okay — much better than I was before, and that's a blessing I'll take. I'm so very glad to be back, I have missed all of you so much. Slowly slowly finding my muse to write as much as I did before (or more, if I can!) and be around some.

A thousand smooches for you and a thousand more to keep! I adore you! 😘😘😘😘

As for your questions!! I'm going to put them under a cut because they're lengthy, so bear with me!

🥀 favorite fairy tale story?

Does Aladdin count? I hope it does! I grew up with 1001 Arabian Nights as a kid, because as a Desi child and a Muslim child, those were the fairytales my parents knew best. I think I wore out my old Aladdin VHS as a kid, playing it so often — my dad still teases me about it!

📚 new/used/library books?

I don't 100% understand this question, but I think it's asking which one I prefer? I'm so sorry! I love used books though — there's always something cool written in them, and I love people who annotate their books. As someone who does the same, it's a little part of the person, and for a moment, I get to read their mind.

As for headcanons — I think it's Bucky! Andy definitely does apologize, but he's a little stiffer when it comes to admitting that the reason he's apologizing is because he's done something wrong. Saying sorry that something happened and expressing sympathy is different from admitting fault, which I don't think Andy is very good at — he's definitely the type to deflect.

Bucky, on the other hand, I think really knows what it is to cause harm to someone, and when he's at fault, makes an effort to make sure that his partner knows he is remorseful. He lives with so much remorse every day because of his past that he might actually seek forgiveness more actively from the person he's wronged because it's a little bit a form of absolution for him — he can never be forgiven by those he's killed, but seeing someone cry because of him? Well that's a chance to make amends, and a chance to do right by someone, something he can actually fix. At his core, I see Bucky as a fixer archetype, meaning he sees a problem and he just knows he has to address it, because it will weigh heavy on him otherwise.

#anonymous #asked and answered #shroombox #thank you my beloved beloved friend!! #I adore you!! 😘😘💖

[les-belles-infideles]

What happened with Kora @princesshamlet: A start at contextualizing the events of the past week

While I am writing this because Kora expressed that they would like it if someone would post something contextualizing what happened, I do not speak for them; my opinions and perspective are my own. I think the general response has been wildly disproportionate to their actual words and actions. Let me know if you have questions about anything or if my writing style is hard to read and I’ll do my best to clarify.

Tl;dr: Last fall, Kora, a new Supernatural fan, started rewriting Supernatural to be more racially diverse and to more overtly address social issues such as homophobia and misogyny. They continually asked for feedback, particularly from POC, and received overwhelmingly positive responses.

Earlier this week, Kora posted something that unintentionally played into ideas that harm trans men. They were horrified to have hurt people, immediately apologized and made an effort to learn more about the issues involved.

Yesterday, some of Kora’s friends cut them off, presumably over the abovementioned. Some people read Kora’s Supernatural rewrite and were offended by portrayals of various ethnicities; Kora tried to learn from these criticisms and apologize for them. People organized to spread bad-faith, extremely hostile claims and Kora left Tumblr.

Background:

- last fall, Kora started watching Supernatural, and posting about it, including making some popular reaction videos and an elaborate summary of the events of season 16 as of mid-November. They got really attached to Cas as a character and DeanCas as a ship.

- Kora made a post along the lines of “what if I drew Castiel as Indian?” and got encouraging responses, so they made a drawing. A lot of Desi people left comments saying that they really liked the drawing and that the representation was meaningful to them, so Kora started posting and reblogging a lot more about recasting Supernatural to be racially diverse.

- Kora accumulates a lot of ideas around how they wish Supernatural had been, and starts casually writing it up into a story. It didn’t even have a title for the first few chapters, but it quickly amassed a small, enthusiastic following.

- I started reading it at first mostly as a way of getting to know Kora, who was at the time a new friend irl (they didn’t mean to give me their Tumblr; I had followed them for Hamlet and Star Trek posts and then recognized them when they posted a selfie) but wound up getting pretty invested. I started watching Supernatural despite the fact that I can pretty much never commit to finishing a TV show.

- Kora’s general strategy was to post ideas on Tumblr and get input before including them in the fic, particularly regarding race and ethnicity. Plenty of people gave them feedback -- I remember one really long conversation where people swapped headcanons about what music a Mexican-American Dean Winchester would have liked growing up.

- iirc, they actively collaborated with multiple Latine fans of the fic on one chapter that foregrounded Mexican-American culture. These fans are credited in an author’s note.

- they received substantial encouragement from Supernatural fans of color for how they were writing the fic, and afaik no negative feedback.

- they also used the fic as a way to discuss and joke about their personal experiences with misogyny, repression, and homophobia, including writing Dean Winchester as undergoing a character arc involving working through and overcoming severe homophobia. When we called recently, they described going from homophobic to not homophobic as “the best character arc a man can have.”

- afaik they had beta readers or at least people to run ideas by for most chapters.

First incident:

- earlier this week, Kora posted a somewhat poorly-worded vent post about Dean Winchester’s misogyny in Supernatural canon.

- I think I reblogged it because I don’t have super high standards for my SPN blog and yeah, afaict Dean said some pretty gross things in canon? I’d seen a lot of people talk about it, particularly Asian women, it’s clearly a thing.

- several people expressed hurt at the post’s wording, which could be read as bigoted against trans men.

- Kora immediately apologized and started looking for ways to learn more about trans men’s issues (afaict, mostly asking friends and going through the trans dean tag)

- they messaged me about it (Tuesday 4/13/2021), and I took a closer look at the post and explained how in isolation it looked harmless, but some of the rhetoric fit into wider patterns of transandrophobia, i.e. part of the impetus for this post was Kora being surprised that some of their trans male friends project onto Dean, since he’s a pretty bad role model for gender -- I pointed out that one way trans men are marginalized within queer movements is by people perpetuating the idea that we’re more misogynistic than cis men (which makes no sense), and their post could be read as playing into that trope (that reading had occurred to me when I first saw the post, but I had initially dismissed it because Kora and I had been spending a lot of time talking about gender and I never felt that they distrusted me or saw me as a threat).

- they made another hasty apology post, quoting my message to them.

- I encouraged them not to worry too much about what strangers online thought about them, but they were very insistent that they had hurt people and needed to learn and make amends.

- I think what happened next was that the conversation sparked a larger discussion about transandrophobia in the Supernatural fandom? I’m not sure about this though, I was off Tumblr most of Tuesday and Wednesday. I saw a few well-written posts refuting the idea that it was misogynistic to headcanon Dean as trans. I did not see anyone claim it was misogynistic to headcanon Dean as trans, but again, I wasn’t looking.

The Discourse™:

- yesterday, Kora started getting a lot more and a lot meaner messages.

- a large part of their social circle cut them off all at once, saying they felt unsafe and that Kora was transphobic. Kora did not/was unable to receive further clarification, while actively seeking the chance to learn more and repair harm done.

- someone made a dedicated hate tag for them.

- a new group of people read their Supernatural rewrite, and were offended by their portrayals of race and their writing about homophobia, and additionally mocking their writing style. The tone was often extremely mean-spirited.

- Kora responded to and apologized for some of the concerns around their portrayal of race, and refuted some of the bad-faith readings of their depictions of homophobia.

- Kora made an effort to understand what they had done wrong but a lot of the posts weren’t very specific.

- some of the claims got fucking wild. A lot of them involved taking stuff out of context. I think w*ncest got brought up at one point???

- Kora wrote another apology and took a break from Tumblr, on the advice of another friend.

- I spent like a day gearing up to write this because I vastly underestimated the speed at which Tumblr discourse moves.

#i know this would be a stronger post if I linked to posts addressing the issues in question #but I kinda just need to post Something at this point #supernatural #spn #princesshamlet discourse #discourse cw #ask to tag #tooth speech #lore