#Rehabilitation Outcomes

[market-insider]

Navigating the Landscape of Medical Rehabilitation Services

The global medical rehabilitation services market size is expected to reach USD 385.9 billion by 2030. Medical rehabilitation services are intended to reduce disability and optimize functioning in individuals with specific health conditions.

Gain deeper insights on the market and receive your free copy with TOC now @: Medical Rehabilitation Services Market Report

The growth of the market is attributed to the rising geriatric population, the increasing prevalence of chronic conditions among adults, and the increasing number of children with developmental conditions. These factors are anticipated to increase the demand for the services due to the need for rehabilitation to prevent, treat, and manage these conditions. Rehabilitation services help to either minimize or slow down the disabling effects of chronic conditions in patients. For instance, according to the WHO as of July 2022, 1.71 billion people suffer from musculoskeletal conditions globally. These injuries are a leading cause of disability globally that limit the mobility and agility of patients leading to early retirement.

Medical rehabilitation helps to reduce hospital stays, thereby reducing healthcare expenditure, which is anticipated to boost market growth. Further, the increasing adoption of telerehabilitation services is projected to further drive the market due to the increased affordability and reduced costs. Increasing initiatives are undertaken by the government to increase the adoption of these services to fuel the growth of the market. For instance, Community Based Inclusive Development (CBID) program launched by the Indian Government in May 2021 aimed at providing training to rehabilitation workers with ground knowledge for managing cross-disability issues in disabled individuals working with ASHA and Anganwadi workers.

The increasing number of initiatives undertaken by the key players in the market in order to provide innovative solutions to the user is estimated to further drive the market during the forecast period. For instance, in October 2021, MindMaze Healthcare announced a partnership with Royal Buckinghamshire Hospital (RBH) for its MindPod platform targeted to treat motor and cognitive restoration in stroke patients. MindPod is an animated gaming environment developed by Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine's Department of Neurology that helps to repair the nervous systems after a stroke.

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

��i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language! Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents. Wordcount: 5.4k A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: Living Ghost

A little bit different than my other comics; I've never done a time lapse before.

In the Ambush Simulation notes, I mentioned that Dabi has a canon divergence in this AU where he returned home after the three years he was missing/presumed dead, but nothing in the household changed and he was still an unhinged mess.  This is the AU comic behind ‘unhinged mess’ and the partial reasoning behind his antagonistic behavior in The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.

…

All right, so canonically Dabi is a walking, half-dead, Lovecraftian nightmare of mental and physical health issues who's keeping himself going through sheer willpower/hatred.  Ujiko says that after waking up from the three year coma, he should not have survived longer than a month as a result of the injuries he sustained from the fire.  So even in an AU where he was reunited with his family after the fact, that’s still the reality of his situation.

Enter Endeavor: In this scenario, at that point in his character arc, I think he would have retreated back into his usual pattern of refusing to face the issue. The Todoroki family got Touya back, but they also learned that he wouldn't be with them long. If a missing/presumed dead child turns up after three years, they're immediately going to a hospital to establish mental and physical condition, so the health issues resulting from the fire would have been discovered almost immediately.

From the point of view of Endeavor, Touya's return was cause for celebration and was initially viewed as a second chance/an opportunity to repair some of the damage he'd already done to his family...but then the severity of Touya's prognosis becomes apparent and they're told he has weeks to live. In Ambush Simulation, Endeavor takes the coward’s way out and leaves the problem for everyone else to deal with so he doesn't have to face Touya.  He told himself it was a way of not getting attached and so on, and no matter how much he tries to deny it, the avoidance is his guilty conscious.

The same goes for Rei. She refused to see Touya after he came back just so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to him a second time.

But Touya doesn't die.

Despite what the doctors predicted, he survives '...albeit with complications, various emergencies, experimental treatments to delay the inevitable, no clear answer on how the hell he was still breathing, and no promises that he would ever live a full life...' And now, just like in canon, he has 7-8 years of simmering resentment with the trauma of a near-death experience, the realization of having lost three years of his life due to the coma, the fallout of terminal health, and the crushing disappointment of what should have been a heartfelt reunion turned into a second abandonment.

In this AU as a vigilante, Touya has the Pandora’s Box of being an outrageous public menace and a potential family embarrassment because he figured out the only time his father pays any attention to him is when he’s ‘acting out’ and he decided he’d rather be the problem child than the invisible child.  And unfortunately, this mentality has also ruined his relationship with Natsuo.

In some respect, canon is a happier outcome for Touya because at least in canon, the poor bastard has a purpose instead of reduced to a living ghost.

…

The piano panels are him rehabilitating his hands.  Technically after a three year coma, he should not have been walking and talking as quickly as he did.  Not with that kind of atrophy.  So I’m balancing that inaccuracy out with the headcanon his fine motor skills were likely completely ruined.

Plus, if your life is a train wreck, have at least one positive hobby.

...Yomaha...

[scribblesofagoonerr]

The journey to recovery begins now.

Heres the next part! ✌🏼

Let me know what you think? I have a lot of time on my hands currently unable to move much, so this is the result!

Credit to @alotofpockets for giving me the courage to continue to write!

Pairings: beth mead x teen reader, vivianne miedema x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You never truly appreciated how much you took your knees for granted until it was too late, leaving you to confront the stark reality of their absence during the grueling weeks that followed after your surgery.

The initial stages of your rehabilitation post-surgery, each day felt like an uphill battle against the constraints of limited mobility. Every single step was a painful reminder of your body’s fragility, which left you teetering on the edge of frustration.

The simple tasks you once took for granted now felt like insurmountable challenges, even the thought of walking a few steps sent a wave of discomfort radiating through your knee, serving as a constant reminder of your newfound vulnerability.

Reflecting on the moment that led to this predicament, you can’t help but regret it as your knee injury could have been avoided. Perhaps if you had chosen a different path that fateful night, the outcome would have been drastically different.

“Where are you off to?” Viv’s concerned voice broke through your thoughts, she had virtually been watching over you like a hawk since your return from the hospital.

“I’m just going to the toilet” You muttered, struggling to get up from the sofa but you were just too stubborn to ask for any sort of help.

Vulnerability was something you’d never dealt well with, it was a trait that was deemed unacceptable in your previous harsh upbringing. Weakness was a luxury that you couldn’t afford, it was a lesson that had been ingrained in you from childhood.

You could practically hear the stern cold voice of your biological father as if he were standing directly behind you, whispering into your ear.

“Do you need a hand?” Beth’s offer was laced with genuine concern, finding it difficult to watch you struggle unwillingly.

“No” You snapped, the frustration bubbling to the surface; You hadn’t meant to be so horrible, it was just sometimes easier to revert back to a defensive coping mechanism that you had been conditioned to over the years as you grew up.

“Just know I’m here if you need me” Beth’s reassurance hung in the air, a lifeline amidst the uncertainty.

“Just shout for us if you need anything, okay?” Viv chipped in, reminding you as she watched you limp off in the direction of the bathroom, although there was a weight of worry lingering incase you somehow hurt yourself in there.

Beth noted her girlfriends’ vigilant gaze and softened her expression, “She’ll be alright, Viv. She’s only gone to the loo, remember?” she joked, amusedly.

“I know, I am just worried in case she aggravates her knee or something” Viv admitted her concern, anxiously biting her bottom lip, “She really needs to be cautious” she added.

“It’s okay to be worried, but we have to let her do things for herself” Beth replied, offering comfort to alleviate her girlfriend's anxiety about you, “If needs help then she’ll shout, remember?” she reminded her.

Viv folded her arms, still visibly worried for you as she tried to listen out in case there’s a sudden slip in the bathroom, “I just can’t help but feel anxious, Beth. What if she hurts herself in there?” she repeats her worries.

“I understand, liefje” Beth placed a comforting hand on Viv’s shoulder, “But we have to let her have some independence too. We can’t smother her with our concerns” she explained to the Dutch woman.

“You’re right, I just need to remind myself of that– I just hate that she is going through this. It’s not fair” Viv mumbled, shaking her head.

Beth gently took a hold of Viv’s hand and squeezed it, “It really isn’t fair, but we’re going to do all that we can to support her, every step of the way, no matter what” she declared.

Deep down, you knew your injury wasn’t anyone’s fault, yet your reflex was to just continuously push your loved ones away once more. 

Despite your attempts, it seemed futile, especially with surprise visits becoming a regular occurance.

Apparently, today was no exception.

Unable to start your rehab anytime soon, you found yourself wrapped up in self-pity on your bed, cocooned in blankets and lost in a Netflix TV show that you had zero interest in but since your remote has gone AWOL, it left you with no choice but watch it, but at least Myle was there for company.

“Y/N/N/! We’re here!” Kyra’s unmistakable voice cut through the air, announcing her arrival.

“Kyra, she might be asleep” Alessia’s voice followed through, a touch of caution in her tone.

“Well, she might not be” Kyra retorted, barging into your room with her usual typical energy to find you awake, “See, Less? Told you that she wouldn’t be asleep!” she grinned back at the blonde.

“Wouldn’t have much chance with the way you’re shouting” You mumbled, acknowledging both of their presence.

Alessia offered an apologetic smile, “Hey, Y/N/N. We just wanted to come and see how you’re doing” she explained.

“Oh, you know? I’m fantastic” You words are laced with sarcasm.

“Well, we brought snacks” The blonde attempted to lift your dampened mood, gesturing to the bag of the treats that they had brought you.

“Wonderful” You barely entertain the idea of the sugary treats as you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, disinterested.

“I can tell she’s definitely excited about that” Kyra mocked your enthusiasm, taking hold of the bag from Alessia’s hands.

Alessia shot Kyra a warning look before turning back to you, concern etched on her face, “Hey, Y/N/N, are you okay? Truthfully?” she questioned.

“Just fuckin’ peachy” You sighed dramatically, still refusing to meet their gazes, dismissing them with a wave, “How’d you guys get in, anyway?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Beth let us in before she left” Kyra explained, perching on the end of the bed.

“Oh” You mumbled in agreement.

“Someone’s feeling grumpy today” Kyra teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she started to delve through the bag and pull out a packet of sweets.

You snatched the packet away, tearing it open with unnecessary force, “Wouldn’t you  be if you couldn’t walk with out assistance?” The frustration was evident in your tone of voice.

Kyra raised her hands in mock surrender although the mischief still sparkled in her eyes, “Noted. I’ll steer clear of touchy subjects” she quipped, exchanging a glance with Alessia.

Undeterred, Alessia took a seat beside you, mindful of your injury, “I get it that you’re frustrated, Y/N/N” she said softly, attempting to connect with you.

You rolled your eyes with the irritation simmering, “Well, excuse me for not being in the mood for a pep talk” you remark, your tone sharp.

“Come on, lighten up, mate” Kyra interjected, reclining against the bed’s end with a playful grin.

Ignoring her, you continued to sulk, stuffing more sweets into your mouth  with unnecessary force, not in the mood for conversation.

Alessia sighed as her concern deepend, “I just… I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to. We know what you’re going through is difficult right now” she ventured cautiously.

“I don’t want to talk about it” You snapped, your frustration boiling over, “I just want to talk, that’s all I want. I want to be able to get out of this damn bed and feel normal again!”

“Well if you’re looking for a miracle, I think you’re in the wrong place” Kyra couldn’t resist a quip to wind you up.

“Kyra” Alessia’s reprimand was gentle but firm, signaling an end to the teasing.

A tense silence settled over your room, broken only by the sound of your frustrated sighs and the crinkle of the sweet packet that Kyra continued to help herself too.

“Listen, Y/N/N, we’re here for you, okay?” Alessia told you with a gentle voice, “Whatever you need, whether it's someone to talk to or just in silence together, we’re here” she stated, determinedly.

You met her gaze, your eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and gratitude, even if you were sometimes way too stubborn to admit it, “Thanks, Alessia” you muttered, the harshness of your voice starting to dull as you realised that it wasn’t any good to take your anger out on your team mates, who only wanted to help you.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Kyra leaned forward as her playful demeanour was replaced with genuine concern, “Seriously mate” she said, her voice uncharacteristically serious, “We hate seeing you like this. Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked.

You hesitated to answer, you were torn between your desire for independence and the comfort of having your friends by your side, “I don’t know” you admitted finally, your voice wavering slightly, “I just… I just hate feeling so helpless, you know?” 

Alessia reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as she gently pulled you into her embrace, “It’s okay to feel that way” she said softly, “But you’re not alone in this. We’ll all help you get through it together” she promised you.

For a moment, the weight of your injury felt a little lighter, the burden now shared amongst your friends who refused to let you face it alone.

“Thanks, Lessi. Thanks, Kyra” You mumbled, burying your head in her chest as you allowed yourself to lean on them for their support, knowing no matter how tough the road ahead might be, you wouldn’t have to walk in alone, “Could one of you please pass me the remote? I don’t know what I’m watchin’ but it’s so boring” you muttered, complaining which made the two of them laugh.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[leveloneandup]

For Christen Press, the Joy is in the Journey

Progress isn’t perfect.

That’s been Christen Press’s motto over the 781 days since she last played in a soccer match—and not just when it comes to her recovery from the ACL tear she sustained in June, 2022, but also when thinking about life as a whole.

“You have to accept that things won’t go the way you think they will, but maybe they’ll go better,” she explains. “Progress isn’t linear. It’s up and down and back and forth. But in that movement there’s more than what you ever imagined. So the imperfection—the struggle, the setbacks—those are actually the greatest gifts as you get to learn about yourself and you have the chance to grow.”

Press has had more than her share of setbacks over the last two years, as an initial surgery turned into two, then three, and finally four.

“I think every single time that I was told I’d have to have surgery, from the first ACL reconstruction and the three scopes that I had, I always thought I would be on the quickest timeline possible,” said Press when she returned to Angel City training in June. “I think that's part of who I am. I'm just relentlessly optimistic. I'm naively positive, and just thinking that everything's going to work out for me—and I never want that to change, you know? And I got off course of all of those timelines so many times that I finally had to actually relinquish that expectation of myself.”

In her two years off the field, Press says she’s grown and healed in more ways than just physically, but the goal was always to return, even if that possibility felt far off at times.

“I never thought about giving up,” says Press, “but there were moments that I thought I’d have to accept that I wouldn’t make it—or that ‘making it’ might not look how I expected.”

One of the hardest things about this process has been accepting that the outcome was not fully under her control. “I’m able to do a lot of suffering for success, and I’ve been that way since I was a child,” she says. “The question I had to answer was how to accept and be open to things I cannot control.”

Press had access to the best medical and rehabilitation care in the business—first at the Meyer Institute of Sports, an El Segundo rehab and performance facility specializing in elite athletes, and then with Angel City’s training staff, including VP of Medical and Performance Sarah Smith, Head Athletic Trainer Manny De Alba, Head of Sports Science Dan Jones, Director of Rehabilitation Sarah Neal, Performance Coach Michael Roman, Assistant Athletic Trainer April Seymon, and Senior Physical Therapist Joscelyn Shumate Bourne.

Ultimately, bodies don’t always heal the way we hope they will. All she could do was show up every day and try her best.

“I had to make decisions that centered my well being and full personhood,” she says. “To start to find my inherent value outside of excellence in the pitch.”

In part, that meant finding joy in other areas of life. She worked on her business, re–Inc, including starting a podcast with (business and life) partner Tobin Heath, initially focusing on the 2023 World Cup, then branching out to cover women’s soccer more generally. She went to the beach. She spent time with family.

In some ways, this time away from the game Press loves has been freeing. “The last two years have been the first of my career that I wasn’t evaluated on my performance,” she says. “I showed up for PT every day with a smile on my face and gave max effort. That’s all I had to do.”

Press’s return comes at a perfect time for the club: they’ve begun to build momentum with two convincing Summer Cup wins, against Club América and Bay FC, as they look ahead to the back half of the regular season. Playoffs are still well within reach heading into this stretch, a fact that Press’s return can only make more tangible.

“Her quality is inevitable,” says First Assistant Coach Eleri Earnshaw. “Last week in training, she scored a couple of goals that we haven't seen anyone else do yet this season in training.”

Returning to play after such a long hiatus isn’t easy for anyone, but Earnshaw says there’s a point the coaching staff have emphasized both to Press and to other injured players eyeing a return to the field: “your ability doesn't change overnight,” she says. “There are some things that just stay with you. Her chance creation, her separation from defenders—you’ve got to be in the right physical and mental place to be able to perform those things, to be confident to do it, but she is building those things up every day.”

“If we can get that quality onto the pitch for any number of minutes, great,” she concludes.

As Press anticipates her return to what she calls “the real world of professional sports”—one “filled with stress and pressure and often angst,” as she puts it—she’s going in with a fresh perspective.

“I’m determined to enjoy it,” she says. “I know who I am as a player and person, and I see this opportunity as a chance to do what I love. I told my teammates today: football is a miracle. It’s a miracle we get to do the thing we love.”

[soon-palestine]

Hundreds of patients urgently need the services of the Artificial Limbs and Polio Center in Gaza.

Gaza Municipality: Immediate action is needed to reopen the Artificial Limbs and Polio Center to assist individuals with disabilities, particularly children.

Gaza Municipality stresses the critical need to resume operations at the Artificial Limbs and Polio Center to support individuals with disabilities and provide essential medical care. Currently, dozens of patients and people with disabilities are reaching out for services that are unavailable due to the center's closure since the onset of the ongoing aggression.

The relentless war has led to a surge in the number of people suffering from amputations and disabilities, making it imperative to reopen the center quickly to deliver the necessary support. In addition, hundreds of children with clubfoot require early treatment within the first few months of life to achieve effective outcomes. The elderly and those suffering from paralysis also depend on the center’s physical therapy and mobility training programs.

Key needs for reopening the center include ensuring the safety and access of the staff, securing the necessary medical supplies for prosthetics and assistive devices, and obtaining fuel for the center’s generator. These are crucial for maintaining the essential services for individuals with disabilities and the elderly.

Artificial Limbs and Polio Center is the in Gaza used to provide critical services to thousands of individuals with limb disabilities, particularly those injured by Israeli attacks, as well as newborns with clubfoot. It offered physical therapy services and was the only facility of its kind available in Gaza. This is especially vital now as the Sheikh Hamad Bin Khalifa Hospital for Rehabilitation and Prosthetics has also ceased operations due to the ongoing aggression.

[bitterrobin]

I’ve noticed that a problem with the “Batman shouldn’t/should kill” debates around here is that a lot of people tend to self-insert themselves into the equation.

It’s always “if killing a violent guy in self defense is bad then I’m a murderer?” or “well, if it were me, I would’ve killed the guy a long time ago.”

Newsflash, you’re not Batman. You’re a real person where consequences can be applied and you need to live with whatever you’ve done.

Batman isn’t real. He’s a character owned by a massive company. In tense situations, you might often have no choice but to commit violence to save yourself. In a tense situation in DC, Batman has writers that can get him out of anything.

DC writers have the ability to write him out a situation where he could kill, with no violence committed and everyone safe. Now, whether or not they’d actually implement this kind of outcome is another issue entirely but the point stands.

Batman is a character with long-established personality, traits, moral code, history. Because he’s a fictional character, writers can’t change every single aspect of his character, they have to keep something otherwise they’re writing someone different. He’s not a real person whose sense of morality or justice can change as he ages and learns - because he can’t age. Rarely, he learns, but this chalks up to comics evolving over time due to the great conflicts/hot buttons of a specific time period when a story is being written.

“But Wasp! Writers self-insert themselves into Batman all the time!” You say. Yeah, they do. And 9 times out of 10, that piece of media turns out horribly wish-fulfilling and severely out of character continuity. Modern writers lost the plot when it comes to making Batman an undefeated god, but regardless he should be a hero.

Therefore, Batman shouldn’t kill because:

DC can always write him out of the necessity to kill.

He’s already been established for a long time to live and die by his own moral code.

He believes strongly in rehabilitative justice

He’s been established to be a symbol for a better Gotham. He kills, even discriminately, and then he’s no better than the hundreds of cops in his universe. Racism, classism, police brutality exist in Gotham. There’s full storylines and series about the GCPD and the role they fill in Gotham when Batman exists.

Batman does their jobs better than they do (usually). He’s supposed to represent justice in a way the police can never be. In a city like Gotham, fictional it may be, distrust and violence comes easy. Murder and assault runs rampant. A vigilante committing themselves to killing would do nothing to change Gotham, nothing to change the GCPD, nothing to project an image of safety, nothing for anyone.

Batman is Batman because he represents hope and compassion in a city without it.

[oodlenoodleroodle]

"Most people are incorrectly taught from childhood that disability simply means that something is medically wrong with an individual person’s body and/or mind. Since the 1960s, disability activists and scholars across the globe demonstrated that a more accurate way to understand the lived experiences of disabled people is by using a social model. On a social model of disability, one distinguishes between a person’s impairments, the way one’s body and/or mind is different, and [a person's] disability, the social responses to one’s impairments. As the disability studies 101 example goes, you may use a wheelchair because of a spinal impairment, but what disables you is a world without ramps and lifts, with stigma and discrimination in education, labor, and so on. It was a social model understanding of disability that led to Section 504 of the 1973 Rehabilitation Act and that paved the way for the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990. It is not an exaggeration to say that a social model approach to disability underwrites every major legal, social, and political advance for disabled people in the US as well as across the globe. Following on the heels of such advances, research in social epidemiology, public health, and qualitative and quantitative work spanning the social sciences and humanities continues to bolster the claim that a central reason why disabled people face worse health outcomes is due in large part to socially controllable factors, as the ACDWGD report demonstrated."

Source

[gofancyninjaworld]

Garou, punishment, and penalties

One of the things that has surprised and outraged a lot of readers about the end of the Monster Association arc in the manga has been Garou's apparent rehabilitation. Exile? No! The Hero Association has let him go, he's gotten fined for dining-and-dashing, has to say sorry to the heroes he beat up, and do some community service. To their minds, Garou is 'getting away with it', and it feels most unjust. Not to mention that there's a sense of frustrated closure.

So, is Garou getting off lightly?

Well, we can't begin to answer this question without some clarity in what we're discussing. There are two related but very different issues here and we need to disambiguate them.

Punishment

I know that this is a word that is very triggering to some people, but there's nothing for it. I'm sorry about that but I need this word. I'm talking about punishment in its most technical Skinnerian sense. Now Skinner boxes are rather narrow places but they're very useful.

Punishment in the most strict behaviourist sense of the term means nothing more than some contingency that decreases the likelihood of a behaviour being repeated [1]. It says nothing about it being pleasant or unpleasant and something is only a punisher if the individual is less likely to do whatever led to that outcome again.

Punishment is all around us. It's not necessarily linked with INTENTIONALITY. For example, if you neglect to check the weather forecast, walk out without a coat and umbrella, and end up miserable and wet, you're less likely to do so again. Was the rain out to punish you? Of course not! You perceived going out without checking the weather forecast and so knowing whether to take a coat and umbrella to have led to an unacceptable outcome, and so you check before you leave.

We thus come to a key point: what constitutes a punishing experience is necessarily individual and context-dependent. There are some experiences that are almost universally seen as intolerable and to be avoided : for example, the proportion of people who will knowingly pee on an electric fence is small indeed. But take an opportunity to work part of a weekend for a modest sum, say $200, at the cost of social time. For a person to whom this money is helpful, it's rewarding, and forgoing time with friends is a price worth paying. For a person to whom it doesn't make much difference, doing that work would be punishing in itself, and losing the opportunity to socialise would be doubly punishing.

Interestingly, what Garou considered reinforcing vs. punishing is nearly counter-intuitive to observe. He relished the challenge. Heck, being beaten up meant that there was something that he had yet to learn and overcome -- which was powerfully reinforcing to him. Even though, in the moment, he could feel fear, frustration, anger, pain, and tiredness, the reward of learning, overcoming, and growing stronger was worth every inch of risk.

...yes, in the end he took it to grotesque and cruel levels

On the other hand, the idea of hitting someone who wouldn't or couldn't fight back was profoundly punishing to Garou. It made him feel like a bully, which was something he never wanted to feel like, and he sought to avoid it.

Even before his run-in with Darkshine, hitting someone defenceless made him feel ill.

Punishment is in the eyes of the beholder. A world without punishment is a world without preference.

Penalty

There are many related definitions of penalty. Let's go with this one for its relative comprehensiveness: "the suffering in person, rights, or property that is annexed by law or judicial decision to the commission of a crime or public offense." [2]

Unlike punishment, penalty is a social construct. There is ALWAYS INTENTIONALITY. You can punish yourself but you cannot penalise yourself: someone has to impose it as a result of your breaking some agreed-on set of rules.

Penalty is an essential part of a functional social group. Even if you call it other names, it springs up spontaneously and the only question is in how well it is managed. For example, say in an online club, one member says something that another member finds insensitive, and the latter calls the former out on it. If the offender pays the appropriate social penalty of acknowledging the hurt they caused and apologising right away, it's quickly water under the bridge and peace is restored. If they don't repeat the offence, the social bond of the club is strengthened, as it affirms that 'hey, this is not a place where we tolerate rudeness to each other.' On the other hand, let the offender deny that they caused harm and even double down, and, unless some stronger penalty is applied by the group, the club can quickly find itself in trouble.

The reason these two ideas are often conflated is that the major intention of penalty is to punish. In a perfect world, penalty and punishment would overlap. That they frequently don't is the subject of many, many studies and books, keeps therapists in business, and nurtures many a scholar through their entire lives. Whether in being so light that it's a cost of doing business (like a $5 penalty ticket for a $20 regular ticket), or so heavy that it's destructive to the offender and is more intended to scare others than to help, or is inappropriate to the offense, or is lop-sidedly applied, or is more a way of excluding a 'weird' person than in restoring any sense of justice, you name it, there's myriad ways in which it goes awry. And yet, it exists. It cannot help but exist in a social world, and it is necessary.

So, armed with these two concepts, let's break the question of whether Garou has gotten away lightly into two components.

Question 1: Has Garou been appropriately punished?

Remember, it is behaviour that is punished. So, has Garou's behaviour changed? Partially!

He has absolutely no interest whatsoever in becoming a monster. Doesn't even think of monsters positively any longer.

The ghost of his future self has come back to tell him to desist from his aim of gaining ultimate power, so that aspect of his behaviour has been effectively punished.

So too have his hero-hunting activities. He isn't hunting heroes any longer, and if he wants to gain skills from matching his strengths against theirs, he intends to ask for a spar, like a decent person.

Ah, many 'screw story, just show me cool fights' fans are drooling over this prospect.

However, he still thinks he's right. He has not renounced the idea of becoming an indomitable force who can impose peace. And that could be trouble.

Question 2: Has Garou been appropriately penalised?

Again, the answer is mixed. Legally, yes. He has been ordered to make the restauranteur he robbed whole. He's been remanded into the care of Bang, who is overseeing his court-ordered work programme -- remember, even though he's eighteen, in this world, he's still a minor. He has (or is in the process of) apologised to the heroes he beat up.

Pragmatically, it makes sense. There isn't a prison that can hold him if he wants out. While going around beating up heroes was an inexcusably shitty thing to do, there are mitigating circumstances to be considered, and he doesn't have a long criminal record, plus he is young. Having him under the care of someone he respects -- and who is strong enough to *make* him stop if need be -- and having him directly apologise to or make whole those he wronged is the least risky way to deal with penalising a scarily overpowered individual.

Are there people who would like to have seen greater penalties imposed on Garou? Hell yeah, you'd better believe it. But they're not going to get it. They'll have to make their peace with it. Yes, Bang advocating for him has meant that Garou hasn't been sanctioned anywhere near as harshly as he might be. But it's also true that Bang advising him is why he's not a fugitive from justice and is actively looking to right his wrongs, however partial that might be.

Where there's going to be hell to pay is if Bang enacts his plan of introducing Garou to the HA as his replacement. The HA *will totally take Garou* -- as Sicchi says, they can't afford not to. But boy, oh boy, will there be trouble.

So after all that talk, what am I concluding? Yes, he is getting off a bit lightly but we have to start somewhere. It's a real credit to Garou that he's been willing to engage with the process of reforming himself.

References

[1] While the idea comes from Skinner's experimentation, this particular definition is the Azrin/Holz one, from Azrin, N. H., & Holz, W. C. (1966). Punishment. In W. K. Honig (Ed.), Operant behavior: Areas of research and application (pp. 213–270). New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts.

[2] definition 1 in: the Merriam-Webster online dictionary https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/penalty. Accessed 26-Aug-2024.

[starlight-bread-blog]

Do you think there's a more complex and nuanced outcome as a result of Katara marrying Zuko rather than it just being Katara becoming a fire lady? Especially since, technically, she's the daughter of a chief and that considers her to be a tribal princess like Yue.

That is a good question. I suppose I don't think there's a situation where Katara marries Zuko and doesn't become fire lady. Since the definition of the word is, and correct me if I'm wrong, the Fire Lord's wife. But if you mean whether she'll live in a palace, I believe that she will.

According to this article she also lived Far From Home (lol) with A\ang, and in their family picture none of them wear clothes for the SWT's cold weather. Which does make sense with how fine she was with leaving to find Aang and how she spent the entire series away from home and the show rarely treated it as an issue to be dealt with. Additionally, now that the war is over she can pay regular visits to her home.

But that doesn't mean that the chief's daughter becoming fire lady isn't complex and nuanced. First thihgs first, I want to go through what being the fire lady & daughter of the chief would mean.

The fire lady doesn't seem to have duties, since we never see Ursa do anything for the Fire Nation. But it at least has to grant you respect and THE connection to the Fire Lord. Katara isn't Ursa, and is passionate & active in nature. The role comes with a certain power that can assist with one's political pursuits greatly.

As for her being a tribal princess, as opposed to the Fire Lady, Yue explicitly that she has duties.

Yue: You don't understand. I have duties to my father, to my tribe.

But Yue was probably the heir to the throne. She had no siblings as far as we know, and she says "my tribe". I don't know whether the north would accept a female chief, given how sexist it was. But some evidence there is to support that she was the heir is this line from her fiance:

"Perks". If she was going to marry him for him to become the chief despite having no other connections to the bloodline, he wouldn't casually call becoming a chief a "perk". Furthermore, when Sokka tries to hit on her, he remarks of their simularities as they're both a prince and a princess. And Sokka is ann heir, he's the future chief.

It's likely that they were arranged for other political reasons and Yue was going to become queen. Whether she was going to be respected/accepted is up in the air.

But we do know of another heirs that might help us get a fuller picture: Eska and Desna. They had a duty to their father as a prince and a princess. It was their wish to help their father whom they believed was a great man. Which isn't typical for an heir. This is why we can look at their case to see what Katara's life as the daughter of the chief would look like. In their case, they helpped the NWT in whatever they thought was right. And it's likely that so would Katara.

What does that leave us with? A role that grants her political power in the Fire Nation with no duties, and a person with a duty to the Southern Water Tribe.

The Positive

To me this paints a clear picture: Katara would use said political power to push the Fire Nation to rehabilitate the Southern Water Tribe from their atrocities.

I'm not the first person to show these before vs. After pics, but it's very important to remember the sheer extent of the Fire Nation's harm to Katata's home.

Before:

After:

And until the show ended, Katara was still the last waterbender of the south. Don't get me wrong, it IS Zuko's job to rehabilitate the SWT. But she'd want this.

Katara always want to help those around her by any means necessery. If it's getting captured in a Fire Nation prison or blowing up a factory, she will find the power to help others. So the power to fix the wrongs inflicted on her own culture and home being given to her, just for loving who she wants to love, is incredibly rewarding and narrativly satisfying.

The Negatives

1. All of what I've just described is good in theory, but in practice she's likely to face immense backlash. The people of the Fire Nation have been indoctrinated into believing the war was good and were fed Fire Nation propaganda since their school days (The Headband) and continued well into adulthood (Ember Island Players).

Suddenly the new fire lord comes along and decides that the war they've been fighting fir a 100 years is bad actually. And NOW he's dating a waterbender and the daughter of the chief, no less. + Suddenly the girl is starting to have demands. She'll be one of the most cobtroversial figures of that era, and that's no easy task.

2. It opens the door for one bad situation that no one could be blamed for. What if Zuko's heir would be a waterbender? That cannot be. Will the role of the heir go to whoever's a firebender/none bender regardless of order? What would it make their kids feel? Will Zuko be okay with how it'd make his kids feel? It raises so many questions, so many complexities and there seem to be no winners.

But looking at these negatives from a perspective of literary merit, as A:TLA is a fictional work, are these really negatives? I'd say no. There is no real suffering at stake here, only captivating conflicts to be explored. In real life, these nasty situations have to be dealt with. They're raw, they're complicated, and in literature, that's good. Conflicts are the oxygen of a story. Especially ones with no easy answers.

In conclusion, Katara marrying Zuko would make her the fire lady. This would lead to complex and nuanced situations, both good and bad, making for excellent conflicts/character progressions.

I don't know if this is the answer you wanted, but these are my thoughts. Thank you for the ask and have a nice day! 💕

[gazsluckyhat]

Sarah's House

Four - Hawaiian Pizza *TW*

Masterlist

Hi guys! This chapter is kinda dark, Suicide ideation is listed heavily towards this end, the story is kinda dark anyway, but just heads up. Take care of yourself.

Also, I'm not very nice in this chapter, sorry in advance.

also disregard any spelling errors, fell sick today and am writing this wrapped up like a Christmas gift.- Bunny

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

  They all stand there, frozen. Eyes flying to Price, hoping he has the right words. But he doesn't. Who would? This isn't something you just explain calmly to someone, let alone a parent. Instead he motions to the hall, inviting him to follow. The boys stay back, a guarding presence as the girl sleeps. The sounds of machine beeps and call lights dull the conversation, doctors and nurses flooding by. Her father leans agaisnt a wall, focus on the captain. The captain whos struggling to find the words. So he decides not to explain. Keep him hidden from the awful bad things. Tell him the more simpler ones, if you can even call them that.

"You shouldn't have to be in this position." He looks at the older man. "This is awful and one of the worst things I've ever seen. Which is why I've decided not to tell you everything." He crosses his arms over his chest. Letting the older man process.

"What? I'm her father, you have to tell me so I can help her." He states, pushing off the wall. Price is putting his hands up, slightly pushing him back.

"Calm down, let me talk. Your daughter is one of the most strong willed and bravest soldiers I've ever met. There are grown men twice her size that wouldn't of survived what she has. Even through the worst of it she has fought, Sargent MacTavish in there, with those marks? Sarah gave them to him. Attacked him when we found her. She was starving and frail and still had that fight in her. Your girl is nothing short of a hero." There's tears in both their eyes. But Price notes the pride in her fathers, smiles a little at that. "But, she has seen the worst that humanity offers. I refuse to tell you because you do not deserve it. You deserve to see her as she is, you're beautiful and brilliant daughter. Physically you can see some of what they did. But a lot of it was mental. She refuses to touch any sort of water, offered her a shower and she was adamant on her 'no'. She doesn't trust any one. Took us some trouble to even let us help her. She's mute, but can speak. It takes a lot of effort on her part so I thinks its more of a 'can't' than a 'don't want to'. She's gonna require a lot of therapy and doctors appointments. It's gonna be the most stressful, scary, and angering thing you'll do." Her father is really crying now. Hands over his eyes and chest heaving.

"She's gonna hate you, hate the world even. You're gonna feel like you're ready to give up, can't do it anymore. But you have to. She can't be on her own right now. I believe she's still in shock, actually. The trauma that she went through is gonna play with her mind, cause her to think things that could never be more false. But you will be there. Hold her and tell her you love her, that she's okay and safe, yea'? She needs to have someone be that rock for her, because she's the ocean." Price hugged him after that, letting the man break into his shoulders. Price couldn't fathom being in his position. What he'd do if it was his daughter. He couldn't think about it. When he'd stepped back the man wiped his eyes.

"Thank you, I owe you my life. You don't know what this means to me. She's all I have left. My baby girl." He's looking at her door. Green eyes wide. Her green eyes, Price notes. "Have you done it before? Rehabilitated someone?" Price shakes his head.

"Not like that. I took care of my father, he was sick throughout my childhood. Struggled with his illness. Blamed everyone, learned how to help him. When he passed I enlisted." It was nothing. Just part of his life.

"She did too. Her mom and I divorced when she was a teenager. When she turned fifteen her mom found out she had cancer. I left soon after. She fought for years though, Sarah always by her side. Took her right after Sarah's twenty-first birthday. Always told her she'd make the best nurse." Then he's looking away again. Price can tell he's thinking about something. The whole thing was a lot to process. So much information to understand in a small amount of time.

"Would you take her?" It's asked in a solid manner. Price not expecting it at all. His back stiffening.

"What?" He must have misheard him.

"She seems to trust your team. Taken to them really. You have experience with something like this, you're a solider as well. I have no idea what I'm doing. I left when my ex-wife got sick. I know what kinda person it makes me, trust me I know. I think one of the reasons I left when I did was because I couldn't handle it. I'm not wired like she is. I love her so much it hurts but I don't think I'm the right person to help her and I refuse to put her in a facility. I'd even pay you on top of your reward." Price had forgotten about the money, decides he doesn't even want it anymore.

"You want me to take in your daughter?" The man nods.

"I understand what it sounds like. But we come from a small town in southern America, people talk. Everyone knows everyone as well, I'm afraid she won't be able to heal right, there, either. And I want her to heal and prosper. She deserves so much, and I don't think I can help her get there. It's breaking my heart. Knowing she's hurting like she is and I can't do anything." Price listens, the idea rolling in his head. The attachment clear between the team and the soldier. But would it turn into something else? Along the feelings of protectiveness and the need to help her was a nudging feeling of something else. Something she did not need right now. Wasn't even appropriate at all. But the longing, the need to touch her lips was slowly creeping in. Could he help her and push it down? The look her father was giving her pulled at his heart strings. He could and he would. Because if he didn't she would be lost.  So he nods, agrees because what else is there to do?

"Keep the money." He says pushing the check away. Her father shakes his head. Insisting he take it. "Fine. But I'm not spending it. I'll open her a account and put it in there." The man smiles, more sure that his daughter will be well cared for.

"Then I'll put money in it every month she's here, use it for her care?" Price nods, knowing that if she stays she'll want for nothing. The boys are too adopting and pretty things catch their eye often. Telling her will be the hard part though, he decides when they go to open her door. Thankfully she's still sleeping, her tiny body curled around Johnny's arm, he too asleep.

 Sarah wakes to the soft murmur of voices, her father is one. But the other two she has to open her eyes to see. Price and Gaz. Both talking with her father like they were old friends. Her chest warmed up a little bit, knowing that even though the world was ending her father could still laugh. Though she guesses he'd always been like that. Even when she was little, always found someone to talk to. About anything really. She'd been stuck in a store while he chatted about the rare blue car that was parked two cars away, and the owner just so happened to be there to chat. Or when he took her shopping for her first bra, her mom not feeling well, and he stood with another dad talking about the weather. Pink training bra in hand. Mortifying. But it's what she loved about him and she'd missed it she realized. Miss just listening to him speak. His presence. So she closes her eyes again and just listens. She doesn't know for how long, until she cant ignore the urge in her bladder at least.

"Good morning Rabbit." So used to the other accents her father's southern American drawl sounds funny. She smiles at him, though her brain is screaming. Hair on the back of her neck rising. She's not sure why, she's clearly safe. The soldiers who saved her, known only by nicknames, are in the corner. Well two of them anyway. She pushes herself up with her hands, the men standing up.

"Where you going? Everything okay?" It's the younger one, Gaz she believes his name is. He's reaching his hand out. She studies it for a second, listening to the voice in her head. It's screaming, loudly. This isn't real, it says. You'll wake up in a second and the others will be leaning over you, touching you like always. Her face falls, because it makes sense to her. The soldiers, her saviors, are all beautiful, even the masked one. And scientifically faces in dreams are morphed from people you know, the masked one could just be without a face. Right? They notice it immediately. Her eyes glazing over and the lost look falling onto her face. She steps back, away from them, closer to the bathroom. Her father stands, not sure what's going on.

"Cap?" Gaz calls lowly to the man behind him.

"Yea' I see it." Then he's right next to him. "Sarah, sweetheart, can you hear me?" She's slowly backing up, the bathroom door cracked open and seemingly inviting her in. Price moves closer, Gaz following suit, hoping to box her in and grab her before she loses it. It's gonna happen regardless of what they want. They're steps away when she darts around and into the bathroom, crying loudly. Slamming it shut they hear her lock it, exactly what they didn't want. Price is jiggingly the lock seeing if he can force it open.

"Can you pick it, Gaz?" The younger man on his knees looking at it.

"What just happened?" Her father is watching, confused as hell.

"Kinda normal for people with PTSD, flashback I'm assuming." Gaz spoke as he tried to separate the locks. "No dice Capin'." Thankfully Ghost and Johnny walk through the door with lunch at that moment. Eyes falling to the pair in a, well, quite a position. Gaz who's eye level with the Captains , um, nether regions tries to stand.

"Now 'on't tell me 've missed the fun?" Ghost smacks Johnny over the back of the head.

"Sarah is in here and the door is locked, one of you go get a doctor." Ghost sends Johnny a stare that says 'fix it' and Johnny is out the door in seconds. Lunch set on the small table, Ghost is walking towards them.

"What happened?" She was asleep when they left, hoping to surprise her with real food.

"Dunno. She woke up, stood up and seemed fine. Then just like that she was gone. Her eyes went all glassy." Ghost's seen it before. Seen it plenty actually.

"Flower? Hey, can ya' open the door? Wanna check on you." No reply. Nothing. The handle stays locked. "She's not gonna let us in. Not if she's lost somewhere in her head" Suddenly there's a flurry of people rushing into the room. Nurses and doctors, even a janitor. They're pushing the three men out of the way, trying to shut the door in their faces, which Ghost stops with a mud covered boot. The door is off it's hinges in minutes, then the sound of screaming echoes through the room. Before they can get to her she's being manhandled between two male nurses, who bully her onto the bed, pinning her wrist down while she screams and fights. Teeth gnashing at the faces. Ghost and Price are pushing their way forward, elbows connecting with noses. Price is smacking the man on the left, pulling him off of her and into Johnny's waiting arms, which drop him on accident. Johnny kicking him out the door immediately. Ghost was a different story, hands wrapping around the mans collar yanking him up to his height.

"Like bullying little girls, huh? I'll show you." And the smaller man is in the hall easily, Ghost not even breaking a sweat.  The doctor is on them in seconds, threating to have them arrested. Price laughing in his face, expressing just how much that meant to him. (zero. It meant zero to him actually) The girl is losing it, Gaz and Johnny doing what they can to calm her, her father on the phone with someone in charge. It's not until she finds the dropped syringe and is holding it to her neck that anyone shuts up. She's shaking. Having moved into the corner away from everyone. Gaz on his knees talking to her, Johnny standing to her right. There's a vase behind her, she notices it, knocks it off and like a cat slowly drags a piece to her. Throwing the syringe at Johnny she takes the shard and replaces it agaisnt her throat. Eyes wild. Fear pumping through her veins, she tries to speak.

"N-n-n-o………Hu-ur-t." Then points her free pointer at herself. It's then that it settles in everyone's bones that she has truly been to hell and back. Because her she was, lost in the halls of her mind, willing to take her own life then suffer at their hands. To her, they're the enemy. They're already caused her imaginable amounts of pain. Her hand shakes. Full on shakes to the point the tip slices into her skin, the blood dribbling down her pale skin. Johnny is on the brink of falling apart, the scene to reminiscent of a friend long forgotten. The same fear he felt then bubbling back up, the air slowly leaving his throat. He's pushing past her father in seconds, collapsing in the hall as he tries to catch his breath. Price nodding towards the hall when Gaz looks at him. IT takes the younger man a minute to pull himself away.

"I'll be in the hall, alright, doll?" She doesn’t hear it, her mind envisioning the Russian soldiers once again. Its their hands she feels sliding up her back, coming down her shoulder and wrapping around her thighs. Their voices she hears whispering to her left.

"She's hallucinating, we need to sedate her and get her strapped in." It Ghost whirling around first, eyes hard as steel.

"The fuck 'ya will." The venom in his tone would put a rattler to shame. The hand on his shoulder isn't his Captains. It's her dad's. He's pressing him back, separating him from the doctor.

"My daughter is no longer under your care." The doctor starts to speak. "Shut the fuck up before I knock your false teeth down your throat." That shuts him up. "You will not touch my child, you will not sedate her, or strap her down. You will release her into the care of Captain John Price." The doctor is staring, mouth wide open. Ghost closes it, chuckling as he walks to Sarah.

Sarah whos slowly coming out of it, the sound of her father's voice a anchor in the distance. Then there's a presence in front of her. It's the masked angel. The one with the honey'd eyes. Ghost. She thinks. It fits him. He's in front of her now. Hands on her cheeks, and she's smiling. The shard slowly slipping from her hand. Ghost slaps it away, gently pinching her cheeks. She's still smiling.

"Flower? Hey, come back okay?" Her eyes are slowly focusing. "You're safe, love, your dad is here. We're gonna take you home, yea? Sound nice." She shakes her head slightly, eyes focusing ion him. Confusion and shame filling them instantly. "There she is." She's pulling herself into him, latching on him like a baby koala. Sobs wracking her body. She sits like that until her father appears beside her, and then she's crawling into his lap.

"You used to sit like this with me when you were little." He whispers it in her hair while rocking her back and forth. "On nights where you couldn't sleep and I'd still be awake. I'd hear your tiny feet run down the hall, cheeks wet with a nightmare, and crawl into my lap. Some rerun of  Married With Children on the TV. You'd just lay there, eyes glued to the screen. Never moved a muscle. I've never told you this, but, those were my favorite moments. I'd stay up just so you'd come sit with me. You're the best thing I've ever done in my life, Sarah. Losing you was my biggest fear, but I've got you. You're safe now." He's pulling her back. Speaking to her clearer now. "I can't help you Sarah. Daddy can't help you in the way you need help. I'm gonna leave you with the Captain, okay?" She's shaking her head in disagreement, more tears running down her cheeks.

"It's alright, you're gonna be okay. He's gonna help you. I couldn't help your mother," His voice breaks. "And I can't help you. So I'm doing the best thing I can do for you." She nods, head agaisnt his chest, eyes catching Price's. Thanking him in her own way.

[princessanneftw]

It’s been good to hear that she’s recovering slowly and doing some light rehabilitation at home, but it’s something else when you actually see that she’s well and up and about again. I feel so relieved and happy to see how well she’s doing after something that sounds incredibly scary, and could have been so much worse in terms of outcome. So yeah 🥲

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 16th of December, 2023

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 16th of December, 2023

Question: Does King Charles know that Meghan's pregnancies were fake?

As I was shuffling the cards, the energy of this reading came out as 'don't bother me, go away, I don't want to think about it", so if Charles does know about the fake pregnancies, then he does not want to deal with the situation.

Interpretation: King Charles is very unhappy about this.

Card One: The Sun, reversed.

The Sun in reverse is a card of unhappiness, and unhappy energy is pouring off this card. I feel a knot in my stomach when I pick up the card. King Charles is very, very unhappy about this situation. He doesn't want to take action and he wishes it would just go away by itself or be fixed by itself.

Sun is a homophone for 'son', and the reason for King Charles's unhappiness is Harry. The god on the card is Apollo, the favourite and favoured son of Zeus. This tells me that Harry is the favoured son of King Charles, his golden boy, and that King Charles can not bear to see his son "in reverse", i.e. dragged down from his perch as the golden prince.

If the truth about the pregnancies is revealed, then Harry will face legal consequences for attempting to interfere in the line of succession, consequences that King Charles can't make go away, and he does not want that to happen. He wants to protect Harry, to shield him from his fall from grace, and he can't do that if the truth about the pregnancies comes out.

The Sun is our source of light, and in the reverse, that light is dimmed and falls into darkness. Light reveals the truth about things. King Charles does not want the truth revealed. He wants it to stay in the darkness of the Sun reversed, at least until he knows he can rescue Harry from the consequences of his actions.

The Sun in reverse is also the card of pessimism. King Charles is not confident about his ability to protect Harry this time, and he is not optimistic about the outcome of this situation, so he just keeps on being very unhappy about it and putting off dealing with it for as long as possible.

Upright, the Sun is one of the best possible cards you can have in a reading. In the reverse, it is a very bad omen for the rest of this reading.

The Rider Waite Sun card has a child on it, so the Sun card is also a card of children. In the reverse, the Sun card says quite clearly, no children, and coming as the first card of the reading it tells me that yes, King Charles knows that the pregnancy/s were faked and there are no legitimate children.

Card Two: The Ten of Swords, reversed

Upright, this is a card of complete despair, betrayal, and hitting rock bottom. That is the initial energy of this card. King Charles feels betrayed and hurt by Harry's actions. He thinks that Harry can go no lower than being involved in these fake pregnancies and all that they stand for (betrayal of the Line of Succession and hence the country etc).

Immediately, the energy flips to one that is raising a person up from their betrayal, of rehabilitating their reputation. It is an energy of excuses (he didn't mean it) and help (what can I do to save Harry from this situation). King Charles is looking for a way to redeem Harry.

On the card, the person on the ground is protected by the goddess Athena, the same goddess who appears alone on the Ace of Swords (new strategies) and on the Justice card. Swords is a suit of legal matters (among other things), and the image of Athena on all these cards tells me that King Charles has been looking at legal ways to rescue Harry from the consequences of interfering with the line of succession. The Ten of Swords in reverse tells me that he failed. There is nothing that King Charles can do to protect Harry from the legal consequences of his actions (the monarch is not allowed to override the law AFAIK).

Card Three: The Seven of Pentacles, reversed

The Seven of Pentacles is the card of assessing your efforts and the return for your labours. Was the effort worth it, what do you continue and what do you weed out. It is also my card of dodgy sex acts and betraying your King.

In the reverse, this card is about work that does not pay off, efforts that fail, impatience, procrastination, and a lack of reward for whatever work you do.

Harry took part in dodgy sex acts - the fake pregnancies - that betrayed his King, the monarchy, and his country. King Charles is now looking for a way to get Harry out of this situation. This card tells me that King Charles's efforts are not going to work. They will end in failure. Either Harry can not be redeemed, or if King Charles does manage, somehow, to partially redeem him, the effort will not be worth it. This card also tells me how King Charles is dealing with the situation - he is procrastinating and putting off dealing with it.

Card Four: The Devil

Note: I was prompted to draw this card after I had laid out the original reading, which is why it is over to one side in the layout.

This card has Meghan's energy. It is a card of lies, deceit, and obsessions. In this reading the energy is of lies and deceit.

The energy of this card is that King Charles wants to blame this all on Meghan. Just like he floated the idea that Harry had nothing to do with the book EndGame, he wants to use Harry's known stupidity and obsession with Meghan to say that Harry knew nothing about the fake pregnancy/s, it was all Meghan's doing, and his darling boy was mislead and hoodwinked by the wicked woman he married. King Charles knows that the public do not like Meghan and he wants to use that to get his son out of the consequences for interfering in the line of succession. Unfortunately, Harry's own words about the pregnancies and births in Spare and his public presentation of his son to the world (either live or a doll, whatever you believe) as his child, mean that he is in this up to his neck. No PR spin by King Charles can remove Harry's own words about the birth/s of his children (I can't remember if he talked about one or both births in Spare).

So King Charles is stuck, making deals with the devil (Meghan and his son), until he figures out a way to blame this all on Meghan and rescue Harry from the consequences of his actions. This card also tells me that King Charles is quite prepared to lie if it means that Harry gets off the consequences of his actions.

Underlying Energy: The Wheel of Fortune, reversed.

This situation is going to drag down both Harry and King Charles and the monarchy. Both of their positions and reputations are going to decline because of the fake pregnancies - Harry for being one of the two people involved in them and King Charles for not dealing with the situation as soon as he knew about it.

King Charles gave the Prince and Princess titles to Archie and Lili, recognising them as legitimate members of the line of succession, and if he did that while knowing the pregnancies were fake then nothing will save him from the public disapproval of his actions.

Conclusion:

King Charles does know about the fake pregnancies, and the situation makes him very unhappy. He wants to rescue Harry and protect him from the legal consequences of Harry's actions in interfering with the line of succession, but he can not find any legal way of doing this. If he does find a way, the result will not be worth the effort he put into it and he will not get the reward that he wants (Harry as an untarnished Prince of the Realm).

If King Charles could find a way to blame this all on Meghan, he would. If he could blame it all on someone else, I believe the news about the fake pregnancies would be released with all the blame being out on Meghan/another person. As King Charles can't do this, he is putting off dealing with the situation and just letting it sit there, making him more and more unhappy, while he keeps the news from coming out until he has a way of rescuing Harry from the situation.

This situation is going to tarnish both Harry and King Charles's reputation. Both of them are going to see the Wheel of Fortune turn against them when the news is released (another reason King Charles wants to keep it quiet). The situation may very well damage the reputation of the monarchy as well.

[lordmartiya]

Another reason for me to be pissed at Astruc's treatment of Jeanne d'Arc is Bertrand de Poulengy.

You're likely to be asking "Bertrand who?", and for a good reason: this French knight appears in the chronicles only twice and in minor capacity, first as one of the knights that tried to convince Robert de Baudricourt to get her an audience with the Dauphin, thus earning the job to actually escort her to Chinon when her ability to predict the outcome of a battle she couldn't know would happen convinced Robert to give her the audience, and later as a witness at her rehabilitation trial. He's so little known I even had trouble spelling his name correctly.

So, why am I bringing this gentleman up? Because the show did. In her first on-screen appearance, a time displaced Jeanne calls for Gilles (the far better known Gilles de Rais) and Robert, and since the only known things about Bertrand are that he was an early supporter of Jeanne and spent enough time with her on campaign to serve as a witness at her rehabilitation trial (and that during said trial he was 63) he was the perfect choice to be the Black Cat holder. But instead Astruc had to come up with his INSULT to Jeanne that portrays a man with little power on the verge of just giving up (the Dauphin Charles, who only trusted Jeanne because he was already sending what little troops he still had to Orleans and this bloodthirsty peasant that said to be on a mission from God couldn't literally do things worse, and only became King Charles VII of France because Jeanne not only lifted the siege but opened the way to the coronation city of Reims) and a literal child (Henry VI of England. Who was six during the Orleans campaign) as warmongers that were destroying Europe out of ambition.

I would have some choice words for Astruc, but I'd rather tell them to his face.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu: “You must remember what Amalek has done to you, says our Holy Bible. And we do remember.” This is a reference invoking the Biblical story of the total destruction of the Amalek by the Israelites, which Biblical passage reads in the relevant part: “Spare no one, but kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings, oxen and sheep, camels and asses.” 

President Isaac Herzog: “It’s an entire nation out there that is responsible. It’s not true this rhetoric about civilians not aware not involved. It’s absolutely not true. … and we will fight until we break their backbone.”

Minister of Defense Yoav Gallant:  

Israel is “imposing a complete siege on Gaza. No electricity, no food, no water, no fuel. Everything is closed. We are fighting human animals and we are acting accordingly.” 

“Gaza won’t return to what it was before. We will eliminate everything. If it doesn’t take one day, it will take a week. It will take weeks or even months, we will reach all places.”

Minister for National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir: “[t]o be clear, when we say that Hamas should be destroyed, it also means those who celebrate, those who support, and those who hand out candy — they’re all terrorists, and they should also be destroyed.”

Minister of Energy and Infrastructure Israel Katz: “All the civilian population in Gaza is ordered to leave immediately. We will win. They will not receive a drop of water or a single battery until they leave the world.”

Minister of Finance Bezalel Smotrich: “We need to deal a blow that hasn’t been seen in 50 years and take down Gaza.”

Minister of Amihai Eliyahu: “The north of the Gaza Strip, more beautiful than ever. Everything is blown up and flattened, simply a pleasure for the eyes … We must talk about the day after. In my mind, we will hand over lots to all those who fought for Gaza over the years and to those evicted from Gush Katif” [a former Israeli settlement].  “There is no such thing as uninvolved civilians in Gaza.”

Minister of Agriculture Avi Dichter: “We are now actually rolling out the Gaza Nakba.” [This term, “Nakba,” is a reference to the forced expulsion of around 750,000 Palestinians during the war that established Israel as an independent state. Israeli historian Ilan Pappe refers to it as The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine.]

Knesset Deputy Speaker and Foreign Affairs and Security Committee Member Nissim Vaturi: “Now we all have one common goal — erasing the Gaza Strip from the face of the earth.” 

Israeli Reservist Major General and adviser to the Defense Minister Giora Eiland: 

“The people should be told that they have two choices; to stay and to starve, or to leave. If Egypt and other countries prefer that these people will perish in Gaza, this is their choice.”  

“When you are at war with another country you don’t feed them, you don’t provide them electricity or gas or water or anything else . . . A country can be attacked in a much broader way, to bring the country to the brink of dysfunction. This is the necessary outcome of events in Gaza.” 

“Israel has no interest in the Gaza Strip being rehabilitated and this is an important point that needs to be made clear to the Americans.”  

“The State of Israel has no choice but to make Gaza a place that is temporarily, or permanently, impossible to live in.”

“Who are the ‘poor’ women of Gaza? They are all the mothers, sisters or wives of Hamas murderers. . . . The international community warns us of a humanitarian disaster in Gaza and of severe epidemics. We must not shy away from this, as difficult as that may be. After all, severe epidemics in the south of the Gaza Strip will bring victory closer . . . It is precisely its civil collapse that will bring the end of the war closer. When senior Israeli figures say in the media ‘It’s either us or them’ we should clarify the question of who is ‘them’. ‘They’ are not only Hamas fighters with weapons, but also all the ‘civilian’ officials, including hospital administrators and school administrators, and also the entire Gaza population who enthusiastically supported Hamas and cheered on its atrocities on October 7th.”