#we also bonded over the difficulty in finding canes

[amikye]

I’ve been forcing myself to go to events (orientation is this week, classes start next week) and talk to people, despite wanting nothing more than to simply vibe. And I’ve managed to make a friend, who is also queer, neurodivergent, & disabled. So it’s been a good day

[johannestevans]

i wanted to write a BIG essay on disability in House MD but the thing is that as it goes on the show plays and delves with the themes a bit differently - like in s1 they begin to introduce some addict stuff but not too much, and much less of the big grapples with house's own medical agency etc by his friends and coworkers

so i think i'm gonna do an essay series, set up some main themes around disability and autonomy in house

the first things will obviously be about the nature of house's own disability, firstly talking about his physical disability - yes, the lack of mobility from his leg and his reliance on his cane, and also the chronic pain that that comes with, but also specifically noting that house became disabled later in life and was previously extremely physically active

while the themes of house being an addict are extremely overstated because of the us' manufactured opioid crisis and its dehumanisation of addicts due to its racist and eugenicist "war on drugs", it's also noteworthy that he used to exercise all day every day on top of fucking and playing with substances on the side. no one minded this because his "addiction" to exercise was fun and sexy and healthy, bc he was making his own pain-killing substances rather than taking a pill

and then also talking about house's mental health issues - evidence of his autism and the way that people hate specifically his autistic traits, even when they're not actually causing them problems, and the way in which house masks and performs certain emotional responses, but more so like. his depression and his loss of identity as a disabled man, and his difficulties being OKAY with his disability when everyone around him hates disability

so apart from that evidence, the points of house grappling with this stuff will be:

house bonding with other disabled patients - in cases of chronic pain, lost physical mobility, and also mental illness and/or neurodivergence

and house specifically understanding disabled people's perspectives, or thinking about the PRACTICAL needs of the person they're treating or engaging with rather than what society cares about or what the hospital thinks is "appropriate" or "proper"

house bullying abled people for being Weird

times where house makes commentary about the injustice of the system (when he points out that the hospital is designed not to treat the poor, chronically sick, etc)

house being anxious and defensive of his own bodily autonomy (eg when ppl are trying to control his pain management or force him into systems that don't work, take over his medical autonomy, in general try to physically control his behaviours)

esp bc season 1 culminates in the stacy episode where we find that like... so much of house's trauma is not just being disabled

but the fact that stacy OVERRODE his desires, waiting for him to be put into a medically induced coma so that she could make "the best" decision for him and literally being the cause of his current disability. esp bc like...

she specifically went for the middle ground that he rejected, she was NOT a doctor

and in so doing she. invented his chronic pain. like there's a reason that in that same episode, we see the volleyball player who gets an amputation and is able to go back to sports - yes, house is a lot older than that volleyball player, but like

if he had either treated the infarction successfully or just got an amputation so that he could later work with a prostheses, house thinks he would have done much better

and so much of his TERROR around trusting others - not just stacy but wilson, cuddy, anybody else - is because of that. the one person he loved and trusted overrode his desires and created the hell he lives in where he's just in constant agony and he hates it, and the worst part is like

everyone tells him it's his fault. no one cares about what stacy did to him, that she manipulated him. every day they tell house how terrible it is that he does that to others, but when it's what happened to him and he lives in hell, it's on him because he's Mean and Too Autistic and he should just Stop Being In Pain etc

god it kills me.

BUT YEAH i think. season by season is gonna be a lot better to track the development of these themes and the way they shift and change from season to season - also idefk if i'll be able to stick with like. the last three seasons bc they just suck so ba dhfskjjgh

BUT WE'LL SEE

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 6

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: future Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: with the carriage crashed they must continue on horseback

Note: this one is shorter, I wanted to have some nice bonding with Jesper done before we got back to the regularly scheduled story

Taglist: @mcntsee​

              Kaz had felt the weight of the carriage change a moment before they went into the ditch.  It gave him time to get ready so that when they fell, he was able to land on his side instead of his head.  His hip throbbed but he was able to stand quickly and noticed that Y/N hadn’t been so lucky.  Curse his stupid mouth for saying something hurtful to her before this.  He knew brushing off her confessions was callous, but he had been annoyed with her for pulling her legs away from him.  He knew he was petty but that was a new low and now he would have to win back her affection.  Why did he want her affection anyway? O right because his heart was working for once.  Damn.

              He stumbled over to where she lay unconscious and looked around the carriage, finding a way out in the floor.  Must have been a carriage for smuggling, complete with emergency exit if you were caught, smart.  He kicked open the trapdoor and then looked back at Y/N.  He knew Jesper would come in and get her but Kaz wanted to be the one who got her.  He tossed his cane out the door and took a deep breath, focusing on getting Y/N to safety, and picked her up into his arms.  He carried her outside, laying her down in the grass nearby.  Once she was safe the thoughts of dead bodies and Jordie’s face roared into his mind and walked to the edge of the woods and vomited, holding himself against a tree.  When he was finished he turned back to see that Jesper was checking on her, his arm bleeding.

              “Are you hurt?” Kaz asked, walking back over to them. Jesper shrugged before standing next to him.

              “I’m fine, just a cut” he responded, tearing off his shirt sleeve and wrapping it around the cut, tying it with difficulty. “Can’t offer a hand?” he said to Kaz, smirking.  Kaz glared. “You saved her, carried her out here, you like her, you big softie.”  The look Kaz sent him wiped the smile off his face.  It was a long time before Jesper mustered the courage to speak again.  “Its alright you know, to have feelings about someone, you can still rip out hearts and then go home to someone.”

              “That’s enough Jesper, I don’t need a lecture from you about my feelings,” he snarled, hearing Y/N start to stir.  She blinked open her eyes and sat up quick, gripping her head. She looked around, then at the two men in front of her.

              “How did I get out of the carriage?” she asked. Before Kaz could stop him Jesper spoke.

              “Kaz carried you out,” he said, smiling big. Kaz’s blood was boiling at the betrayal. Y/N looked at Kaz silently.        

              “Thank you Kaz,” she said softly, standing with Jesper’s help.  Kaz nodded quietly, looking away.  He was going to have to admit sooner or later that Jesper was right, he did have feelings for her, but he would admit that later.  He still didn’t know what he could do in a relationship with someone anyway, who would want a broken bastard?  

              By this time Jesper had brought the horses over and even had found a spare saddle in the carriage storage bin.   Y/N dressed the horse, getting on ready to ride.  

              “Kaz take this one, I’ll ride with Jesper on the other,” she said, holding the reins.  Kaz wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t possibly ride a horse with someone else, not even Y/N, for the amount of time they needed.  The Permafrost was still over 2 days away, he would never survive. He climbed on the horse with difficulty, ignoring the help the others offered.  Once astride he slid his cane into his belt and heard a giggle.  He narrowed his eyes at Y/N and once again found that she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him.  He both admired and hated that about her.

              “You look like a general in those old school books, saber at the ready,” she said.  Kaz rolled his eyes and looked away before anyone could see the red that flared on his cheeks.  “But you’re much better looking than those guys.”  Kaz had expected a compliment, she seemed to like teasing him and then stroking his ego to win back his favor.  He hated that it worked.  He watched, a little annoyed, when she joined Jesper on the horse and they started riding north again.  

                Y/N could see that Kaz was struggling, not with his horse, but his emotions.  She had to admit, his feelings were probably harder to tame than a wild horse and she still didn’t know if it was worth it.  She realized that his jab about her secrets the night before had been out of anger. She wasn’t sure what he was angry about, but him carrying her out of the carriage proved that he cared about her in some way.  She would take that and work with it.  

              “You like him don’t you?” Jesper asked, him also noticing how Kaz couldn’t look at them for more than a moment before he looked away again, the jealousy clear on his face.  

              “Yes, I more than like him,” she answered. Jesper was easy to talk to, Kaz should send him out to gain secrets, with his laid back attitude and fun demeanor anyone would get loose lips with him.  He nodded and looked ahead again but she noticed the frown on his face.  “What has you upset?”

              “I…I miss Wylan,” he said softly.  It was almost like he was just admitting it to himself and she felt her heart break a little at the sad look on his face.  “Stupid merchling wormed his way into my heart and won’t let go.”  

              “I guess we both have men who are unreachable at the moment.  I’m sure we will find Wylan at the resistance camp, if he had the strength to deal with both you and Kaz I can only imagine how strong his will is.  I’m still debating on shooting you both,” she teased. Jesper let out a chuckle.

              “If you find you want to shoot Brekker you can use my guns,” he answered making her laugh this time.  

              “You two seem chummy,” Kaz called, riding to walk his horse closer to them.  He looked so put out by their interactions that Y/N almost laughed at him.

              “Don’t worry Kaz, I’m not trying to steal your new girl,” Jesper shot back.  If looks could rip someone apart the look Kaz gave him would have done that and more.  “You see Kaz here almost ended up with Inej…” A loud crack rang out and Jesper let out a strangle cry of pain.  Kaz had snapped his cane out, smacking it hard against Jesper’s knee.  

              “Don’t start talking like you know anything Jesper,” Kaz said, voice menacing.   Y/N looked at him.  This must be Dirtyhands, the supposed bad guy buried in Kaz, the one who liked to rip out eyes and maim men for saying the wrong thing.  She was impressed by his vicisousness but she didn’t want this aspect of Kaz to be out and about right now.

              “Kaz calm down, this is all in good fun,” she said. “I know you don’t know how to really have fun but I promise this conversation will never be shared with anyone, right Jesper?”

              “Right,” Jesper wheezed out, still trying to move his leg.  “Did you break my kneecap?”

              “Just disabled your lower leg for a minute, you’ll be fine.  God knows I don’t want to carry you if you break your leg,” Kaz responded.  He looked at Y/N and she smiled at him, wanting him to calm down.  She saw him take a deep breath and relax some.

              “So are you going to tell me about Inej?  I have heard the stories about her leading the refugees north, she sounds amazing,” Y/N said.  And she sounds infinitely better than me for Kaz she thought to herself.  Inej was supposed to be strong, a leader, someone that could gain secrets by knife or by charm, and apparently Kaz had once wanted her.   Y/N didn’t often let insecurity eat at her, she was Grisha who could do anything, why should she think less of herself?  But the idea that Kaz would desire her over Inef Ghafa seemed laughable.  

              “No one is going to talk about Inej anymore. What I felt for her wasn’t real,” he said, a pleading look in his eyes.  This whole conversation was making him squirm it seemed, too much talk of feelings and emotions that he didn’t want to visit.   Y/N nodded, feeling a little better that he seemed to be telling the truth.  Inej was a friend, a second in command, but it appeared that she was just that and nothing more.  Then again, Y/N was just a Grisha, someone to get them back to their crew and nothing more. Suddenly she didn’t feel any better.

              They rode on for another hour, the sun getting hot above them as they passed midday in silence.   Y/N was hoping they would get at least halfway to the Permafrost today but she felt her heart stop and her blood go cold as a voice called from behind them.

              “Little puppy, seems you found some new friends,” the Darkling said.  Jesper whipped the horse around and all three stared as the man approached alone, looking ready to kill.

[rrrawrf-writes]

For the prompt: Unbind me + actual, sci-fi/fantasy binds

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LOOOONG i had trouble writing it and i am not sure why? i know why it’s because i can’t do soft fluffy stuff it took literal months and i apologize, i have had the worst writer’s block. also i uh i guess i kinda wandered away from the initial prompt? but here we are, i’m actually fairly happy with this nonsense.

nanoni belongs to @lisauras and these nerds asked me to tag them because they like me or something??? @gingerly-writing @haphazardlyparked @kclenhartnovels @lux-scriptum @knightedwriter

Mal does not like mages.

Sheisha’s an exception, of course, and, sometimes, so is Keo, when he’s being quiet and useful. But otherwise, mages are a nuisance at best, and a travesty at worse.

This one is somewhere in between, but he continues to slip closer and closer to the travesty side of things. Mal crosses his fingers behind his head, the pastel blue bands wrapped around his wrists tugging at the peripheries of his vision. Black veins wrap through the magical constraints - Keo would call it a sign of haihaiā magic. Unholy, unhealthy, forbidden, and perfect for a double-dealing haole bastard.

More of the bands encircle his ankles, and there is one more around his neck that, unlike the other four, Mal could actually feel, like an itch that won’t go away. That means - something. He isn’t sure what. Mal is so completely devoid of magic that he can’t really feel the slight fizz or whatever that most everyone else does. He’s fine with that.

No bars or doors stop him from getting off his cot and wandering around the building, but Mal doesn’t bother. Redding’s spell stops him at the threshold of any exit and window, and prevents Mal from getting within arm’s reach of the man. This is unfortunate, because Maluko’oi longs to stab him through the neck.

He hears Redding’s shuffling limp stop at the doorless entry to the small room Mal had claimed the night before. Instead of acknowledging the mage, Mal closes his eyes.

“Get up,” Redding demands, his voice gruff. Mal ignores him, until Redding sighs, adds, “Your wife is here.”

Mal’s reluctance evaporates. He swings his bare feet over the side of the cot to stand. Redding has to crane his neck to squint up the near foot of height difference.

“She brought your daughter, as well,” Redding says. Mal is careful to keep his expression blank. “Perhaps not the wisest choice she could have made.”

He looks expectantly at Mal, but eventually Mal’s bland stare disappoints the mage. Redding huffs, then jerks his head to the side. As the older man scratches his short, salt-and-pepper beard, Mal follows.

Redding has designated an old warehouse on the very edge of a near-dead town to meet with Nanoni. It had probably stored farming or construction equipment, once upon a time, but now it’s dusty and empty, though a corner of the top floor shows evidence of Redding having camped out for a few days. The cot, for example, that he, surprisingly, hadn’t forced Mal to give up the night before, once the islander’s resigned himself to being held for ransom.

At the very least, Redding doesn’t talk overmuch. Mal doubts he could handle it if the bastard is smug and gloating. He stands silently in the middle of the open bottom floor, and Mal stays as close as the spell allows him. He crosses his arms over his chest while they wait, rocking back on his heels.

For once, Nanoni is on time. Mal doesn’t doubt that she and Sheisha have already scouted out the warehouse, but he’s glad she isn’t going to play games.

His wife is rattled. It’s difficult to tell for anyone who doesn’t know her well, but Mal can see it in the way Nanoni stalks across the warehouse floor. Her lips are pressed into a small, tight smile, but while Nanoni at least makes an effort to hide her anger, Sheisha does not. Shorter than her mother by a good six inches, Sheisha otherwise looks like the spitting image of Nanoni, kicking the warehouse door shut behind her so that the slam of it echoes through the room. Mal’s lips twitch towards a smile when Redding flinches. Regardless, Mal holds one hand to the side in a calming motion - this isn’t how Sheisha should behave during business exchanges.

Sheisha scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“Darling, are you all right?” Nanoni asks, her glance skipping right over Redding as if he doesn’t exist. Maluko’oi gives one single nod and the slightest hint of a smile in return, and watches her relax by a millimeter.

Redding taps his cane against the floor. “That’s close enough,” he says mildly, and Nanoni stops a few yards away, shifting her weight onto her right foot. Sheisha stays so close behind her mother that she nearly bumps into her.

Nanoni flicks a finger at the blue bands Mal wore. “What are those?” she asks, her voice taut. Redding doesn’t look away from the cloth-wrapped bundle Sheisha carries. It looks like they’ve taken one of the hotel blankets to make an impromptu wrapping for the vase.

“Merely restraints,” Redding says, waving a dismissive hand. “I didn’t fancy getting murdered in my sleep. Put the urn down, please.”

Nanoni tilts her head towards Sheisha, but the teenage girl hesitates. “Aren’t we going to make him let Dad go, first?” she hisses at her mother, speaking Kamean. Nanoni keeps her eyes on Mal.

“Sweetheart,” she says, “just play along for now. We’ll sort things out in a moment.”

Growling in frustration, Sheisha stomps forward until Redding motions for her to stop, midway between him and Nanoni. Sheisha opens her arms, dropping bundle to the ground with a muffled clang.

This time, both Maluko’oi and Redding wince.

“If you’ve broken it, you stupid girl,” Redding snaps, showing the first sign of frustration Mal has ever seen in him. Both Maluko’oi and Nanoni whip their heads around to glare at him, Nanoni’s hand disappearing behind her back. Redding narrows his eyes and wisely swallows whatever he had been about to say.

“Relax,” Sheisha says in a flat voice. “It’s copper.”

It’s also completely useless, but none of them were going to tell Redding that. Whatever curse the urn once held, it faded years ago. Even legendary magic doesn’t last forever.

Redding takes a quiet breath that Mal barely hears, and then forces a smile on his face. He shuffles forward as Sheisha backs away, her arms crossing over her chest with her fingers digging into her skin. She chews on the end of her long black braid, a habit her parents had tried - and failed - to break for years.

The three Neokois stand there in silence as Redding, with obvious difficulty, kneels to inspect the vase, partially unwrapping it. After a moment, he grunts and stands, hefting the bundle under his free arm.

“Redding,” Nanoni snaps. He makes it to the exit before turning to give them a thin smile, and then taps his cane against the ground. The bands around Maluko’oi’s neck, arms, and ankles disappear, and Nanoni’s composure finally cracks.

She rushes towards him, just shy of running; Mal’s quick to meet her, one hand circling around her back, and the other getting lost in her hair before his mouth is on hers.

It’s the easiest way for him to let her know he’s all right.

Sheisha pauses just to the side, as eager as her parents, but hesitant to interrupt. Nanoni breaks away, then nuzzles into his collarbone. Her hands curl into fists against his chest.

“I’ll tear him apart,” she promised, her voice low. Mal grins into her hair, but then he shakes his head.

“No need,” he murmurs. They can worry about Redding later; Maluko’oi just wants to see the back of him, for now. He shoots the limping mage a look over Nanoni’s head, and Redding coughs, straightening as he uses his cane to shove open the door.

“I’d say enjoy what short time you have left,” Redding says blithely, angling the top of his cane in Maluko’oi’s direction. The knob of black glass on top of it flashes blue. “But I don’t think you will.”

Nanoni pulls away slightly, frowning. Mal lifts a hand to his neck. It itches.

“What was that?” Sheisha demands, whipping around so quickly her braid bats against Mal’s side. Nanoni sucks in a sudden breath, and Mal looks down to find his hand wrapped around her throat.

“Mal,” she starts, but then his foot snakes behind her ankle, and Maluko’oi slams his wife to the ground.

He stares at her for one horrified second. The black-veined bonds are back around his wrists, and Mal opens his mouth to tell Nanoni he’s sorry, he hadn’t meant to - hadn’t even realized he’d done that until they’re both on the ground, his knee on her torso, thumbs pressing against her windpipe.

But instead of saying anything, Mal chokes.

“Dad!” Sheisha’s voice is a startled yelp. He catches her moving towards him from the corner of his vision, and his hands let go of Nanoni. Instead, as Sheisha closes in, they latch onto her, and he flips his daughter over his shoulders.

It’s enough of a distraction for Nanoni to eel her way out from under Mal. Sheisha hits the ground with a grunt, and Mal straightens up, bouncing his weight to the balls of his feet.

What is he doing?

“Maluko'oi!” Nanoni snaps angrily, one hand going to her throat as she scrambles to her feet. He tries again to speak, to tell her that he hadn’t meant to, that this wasn’t him - but the band around his neck tightens and burns.

“You islanders make your men so obedient,” Redding says dryly. “Not an ounce of willpower. This was far too easy.”

“Kanapapiki!” Sheisha shouts. She rolls to her feet and rushes for the door. Mal, without thinking about it, without even wanting nothing but to crush Redding’s skull against the pavement, takes three long steps and catches Sheisha around the middle.

“Mal!” Nanoni shouts. “Stop it!”

He can’t stop himself. Something has - has split Mal away from part of himself, separating his mind from any control of his body. He kicks Sheisha’s feet out from under her, and as she drops, turns to meet his wife. From the corner of his eye, he sees Redding leave the building. Thick bars of blue magic appear across the door, locking them in.

Nanoni swings a fist at him. Mal blocks it with ease, shifting his weight forward to strike back. It isn’t someone controlling him, he realizes, as Nanoni skips away from his sudden barrage. These are all his moves, his reflexes and anticipations. He knows how Nanoni fights, and so he knows exactly how to block her, exactly how she’ll strike next.

And he knows when she’s distracting him.

He catches Nanoni’s fist and uses it to push her away, turning as he does so. Sheisha’s rushing him from behind, and she bounces one foot up into a high kick that Mal blocks with his shoulder, bracing against her painful impact. She rebounds off him with a force that will bruise Mal for days, but instead of pursuing, he returns his attention to Nanoni.

He’s too slow. Her elbow cracks into his jaw and he stumbles back. Mal - or whatever it is controlling him - remembers Sheisha behind him, and swings around to lash out. She slides easily under his guard, thumping his ribs before she flashes to her mother’s side. Mal stumbles one step, but his fists lift even as his hopes rise.

Maluko’oi’s sparred with Sheisha and Nanoni millions of times. He’s trained Sheisha; even as he knows all their tricks, they know all of his. And they beat him nine times out of ten. Both of them together could easily take him down.

He tries not to think how most of the time they spar, he holds back.

Nanoni makes it easy for him not to think. She swings a fist towards his stomach, and as he blocks it, strikes him again across the face, a blow that rings in his ears. Sheisha hangs back, and Mal clenches his teeth, wondering why.

“Snap out of it, Mal!” Nanoni skips away from him as he retaliates. He reaches for her, and she slides around him, kicking the back of his leg. Mal drops to one knee, but instead of following up, both Nanoni and Sheisha back away.

They could take him.

“Dad, please - you have to stop,” Sheisha begs, as he advances on them again.

Why did they hold back?

His daughter slips under his swing; Nanoni comes in to run interference, and Mal winces internally as he hits her on the ribs. Sheisha darts in, tripping him up.

They have weapons, Mal thinks with a snarl, feeling a slow anger welling up. They have weapons, they need to use them. He wants to yell, to curse, to tell them that he’s sorry, he’s so, so sorry, why did they hold back -

Sheisha isn’t fast enough.

He slams a fist into the side of her head, and she crumples. Maluko’oi freezes in shock, eyes wide. For one split second, he snaps back into himself.

Sheisha isn’t moving.

Mal stares down at her, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

“Sheisha!”

Nanoni stares at her daughter’s still form, and then turns her glare on Mal. Knives appear in her hands and Mal, hating himself more and more with every passing second, can only think, Finally.

“That is our daughter!” Nanoni yells, furious and enraged. Mal shifts back as she runs towards him. He snarls silently in frustration as, once again, his body moves without thought. For the first time, though, Nanoni has him retreating; he has nothing to keep her knives from slicing into his skin.

He moves back with the grace a lifetime of dancing lends him, but not quickly enough to prevent a handful of shallow cuts on his arms, as Maluko’oi blocks Nanoni from gutting him like a fish. She’s furious, and the longer they fight, with Nanoni trying to duck under her husband’s guard, the sloppier her attacks become, until Mal grabs her wrist.

The follow-through action is to give her arm a cruel twist, force her to drop the knife and break her wrist. His breath catches - he won’t do it, he can’t, this is his wife -

He hesitates halfway through, just before Nanoni’s arm would snap, his grip on her arm tight as they stare at each other. Then Nanoni stabs him in the ribs.

Mal sucks in a sharp breath, but instead of letting go, backing away, he pushes forward. The pain in his side flares as Mal bulls Nanoni to the ground. He traps both her hands above her head, straddling her waist with his knees. Pinning both her wrists down with one hand, Mal reaches to his side, and pulls Nanoni’s knife from his ribs.

Pain swamps his mind. Under any other circumstances, even Maluko’oi would have been laid low by such a dumb stunt. Pele, how long will it take him to bleed out -

When his vision clears, Mal realizes he’s pressing the knife up against Nanoni’s throat. All the pain disappears, overwhelmed by a sheer, panicked abhorrence.

The part of him that’s been split and shoved aside screams and struggles for control, as futile as grabbing at sunlight on the waves. Nanoni bucks beneath him, and the knife slides against her skin, leaving behind a thin red cut along the side of her neck.

NO.

Maluko’oi freezes. He can’t make himself let go of Nanoni, let her up - but he forces his hand to stop, the knife’s edge resting against her skin. Nanoni stills, staring wide-eyed up at him.

A tear drops onto the bloodied steel of the knife, leaving behind a track against the red. Mal’s hand shakes, trying so hard to finish the job - but he refuses. The band around his neck burns, constricts until he can barely breathe. Through a haze of pain and tears, Mal sees his wife smile.

There’s a sting in the side of his neck.

Mal blinks and looks away from Nanoni, to see Sheisha plunge another handful of paper-thin needles into his arm.

They’re coated in enough sedative to drop an elephant; maybe even enough to drop Mal. He knows this, because he’s the one who prepares the sedative for her. His arm goes numb, his hold slackening on the knife and Nanoni’s wrists. She twists her hands free, grabs his shirt, and rolls them both over. He’s out before his head hits the ground.

Maluko’oi wakes up to a dim room, staring at the ceiling. His neck burns and his head pounds; he closes his eyes again. Aches and pains litter his body, but not even the stab wound in his ribs is bad enough for him to worry over right now. It will heal.

But what he’s done to his family -

He puts a hand over his face, gritting his teeth against a ragged breath and holding it in until he can trust himself not to sob. Someone shifts to his right, reaches out to touch his shoulder. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“Maluko’oi,” Nanoni says quietly. “Darling, you slept for far too long, I was so worried.”

When he doesn’t answer, Nanoni takes his wrist and gently tugs his hand away from his eyes. Mal knows he’s acting like a child, but he turns his head the other way, terrified that he isn’t strong enough to keep Redding’s filthy spell from controlling him again if he looks at Nanoni.

Her voice is a little sharper this time. “Mal, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen you cry before, love, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He attacked his wife. Mal attacked his wife, and his daughter, and he would have killed them. Nanoni’s hand slips into his own, and when he moves to sit up - his right arm and hand still feel a little lifeless - she’s there with an arm to brace his back.

He fumbles the blanket back with his numb, unfeeling hand, and slips the other out of Nanoni’s grip. Before she can protest, Mal slides out of the bed and straight to his knees onto the floor.

“Oh, Mal, what are you doing,” Nanoni sighs with impatience. “You should stay in bed -”

Mal hates talking, even more than he hates mages. His tongue is not silver; instead, it is a leaden weight inside his mouth, one that takes effort to move. But he can’t stay silent on this matter - and yet, his mind is completely blank. He clenches his fists on top of his knees, trying to force himself to speak.

All he says is the rote, “Nanoni, I am sorry. Please forgive me.”

Mal winces at how pathetic, how utterly inadequate the words are. He should be begging, but his mouth closes instead, and Mal stares at Nanoni’s feet, his mind completely blank of words, but his insides twisting with so much guilt and sorrow and fury at himself that he wants to heave.

Nanoni sighs, and then moves to her knees as well. Mal starts to look away, but she catches his face before he can, tips his gaze up from pointing at the floor. He freezes in panic when he sees her, his breath catching.

Nothing happens. Mal remains where he is, his hands gripping his knees so tightly that both ache, but his body is his own, and stays where it is. Nanoni brushes a hand over his tear-stained cheek, then wraps it gently around the back of his neck. Maluko’oi closes the distance, pressing his forehead and nose against hers and closing his eyes.

They breathe in each other’s air, and Maluko’oi feels himself relax. He can never tell if the overwhelming love he feels, mere seconds into their hongi, is his or Nanoni’s or both, but it soothes him for a moment, forms the base for what’s to come next.

Anger, sharp and hot, for what Redding had done to them, and guilt, for having to hurt each other. Mal puts a steadying hand on Nanoni’s waist, feels her take a shuddering breath, and knows that he’s not in much better shape. But there is no healing without pain, and so Mal lets himself feel it from Nanoni’s point of view, tears rolling down his cheeks.

And then he’s hit with a wave of comfort and forgiveness, so hard that he has to bite his tongue to stifle a sob. Mal’s first reflex is almost to break away - he hardly deserves this, he hurt her - but Nanoni’s hand on the back of his neck holds him in place, and then he realizes that these are Nanoni’s reactions as much as his.

An extended hongi is exhausting, but they ride it out together, and at the end of it, Mal feels - well, not good, but better. The pain is there, but dulled with understanding. Nanoni does not hate him.

She does not hate him.

They’re both crying when they break the hongi. Nanoni shifts angles and kisses him, deeply, before she pulls away.

“Oh, ipo, of course I forgive you,” she tells him, cupping his cheek in one hand. “How could you ever think otherwise?”

Mal gives her a slight grin, and then leans forward, kissing the tears off her cheeks until she lets out a surprised laugh.

“Get off the floor, Mal, I don’t know the last time it’s been vacuumed,” she tells him, taking him by the elbows. He obeys, and lets out a surprised hiss as the knife wound in his side stretches. Mal shakes his head at the sharp look she gives him, but he does not stop her as she lifts his shirt.

A neat patch of bandaging covers the wound. “We had a doctor put in stitches,” Nanoni says, pushing Mal gently back onto the bed. At his questioning look, she adds, “We’re still in town.”

A chair is next to the bed, and when Nanoni sits, she sits so close their knees are in between each other’s. Mal takes in the decades-old wallpaper and the tacky hotel furniture as she goes on, his hands in hers.

“Sheisha is fine,” she adds, addressing his concerns before he could give voice. “She’s sleeping in the other room. We called Keo and had him put you under a sleep spell, and then I went after Redding.”

Nanoni heaves a sigh. “He’s going to Ember Island, Mal. The royal investigators arrested him on the spot. I wanted to kill him - I would have, but…”

Her voice trails off, and Mal waits patiently for her to look up from tracing lines in his palm. “She has a concussion - oh, love, it isn’t a very bad one,” Nanoni adds, looking up as Mal winces. He looks down again. “She’ll be just fine with a little bit of rest. I left her with Keo, to watch over you, but then - but then she caught up.”

Pursing her lips, Nanoni stares off at some point in the wall over Mal’s shoulder. “She wouldn’t have stopped me. She would have done it herself, I think, but - well, that isn’t her place, is it?”

It isn’t Nanoni’s, either. Mal’s killed before, and he’s sure he will again; it isn’t a burden he wishes for either of them to carry.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and brings her hand up to his lips. Nanoni smiles a weary smile.

“We can always get someone inside the prison to finish him off,” she decides, and Mal smiles against her knuckles. “Let me see the back of your neck, that spell of his left some nasty burns.”

Obediently, he leans forward, resting his head against Nanoni’s chest. The burns can’t be that nasty, if he hardly feels them; there’s a bit of renewed pain as Nanoni’s fingers skim over the reddened skin, but Mal can ignore that. It will heal.

He tries, again, for words. “Nanoni…”

“Darling, you don’t need to say anything. I know.”

“You don’t.” Maluko’oi catches her hand as it slips through his hair while he leans back. Nanoni did not bruise easily, and yet there they are, small dark fingerprints against her brown skin where he’d nearly snapped her arm in half. Tears prickle at his eyes again, and he curses himself softly. He’s acting like a child, crying at the slightest instigation. “You don’t, because I don’t say anything.”

Nanoni takes in a breath to speak, and then stops, gives him a patient look. Mal presses a kiss into the palm of her hand, trying to put his thoughts into an order that will come out as words. It takes far, far too long. Nanoni waits, patient for him when she isn’t for anyone else.

“You are,” he says slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, “heart of my heart. I would have never - never hurt you.”

Except he did. He did, and it doesn’t matter that Redding had spelled him. Maluko’oi hadn’t been strong enough to stop himself.

“I just need you to know that,” he struggles to say, “there is nothing in me that - that has ever wanted to do you harm. To you, or Sheisha.”

“Mal, honey, I know,” Nanoni says, her words just as quiet and somber. “I never doubted otherwise.”

He lifts his gaze, but Mal’s eyes snag instead on a thin red line along the side of Nanoni’s neck, cleaned up and already starting to heal. Mal reaches up and skims his fingertips over it.

Nanoni sucks in a sharp breath, her hands in Mal’s lap squeezing into fists. He snatches his hand back like he’s been burned - or like he’s burned his wife - and looks away again, closing his eyes against a flood of tears.

“Mal -”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, fighting every impulse to run.  Nanoni wraps her hands around each of his wrists, and he resists a little - only a little - as she tugs at them.

“Maluko’oi, look at me,” Nanoni says sternly. He obeys, out of habit, because he will do anything and everything she ever asks of him, even when his stomach churns, even when this is somehow the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Nanoni takes each of his hands and places them on either side of her neck. He stiffens, even though there is no reason to fear himself losing control again.

“Heart of my heart,” Nanoni tells him, “I trust you. I always will,  and nothing you could do will ever change that. “

She drops her hands and Mal just cradles her face for a moment. Nanoni gives out a small laugh.

“After such a pretty apology, I don’t know how to say sorry for being the one to do any permanent harm.” Her hand slips up under his shirt, skimming over the gauze taped to his ribs. Mal scoffs quietly.

“You didn’t have a choice, I was trying to kill you,” he reminds her. And it’s hardly permanent, anyway.

“No, you were trying to stop it,” Nanoni says instantly. “I could see it, love, anyone could.”

She leans in to give him another kiss. Mal moves his hands down to her waist, and Nanoni murmurs, “But if you ever hurt our daughter again, I’ll shoot you.”

Mal laughs, startled and pleased, and leans back onto the bed, tugging Nanoni with him.

“I wouldn’t want anything else,” he tells her.

[ladyvialana]

Fic: Friday Night Revelations - Ch. 6

Final Fantasy XV fic. band!AU, pre-relationship Prompto/Noctis

Chapter Summary: Noctis and Regis always try to make time for each other.

Chapter Notes: Noctis POV, Noctis & Regis father-son bonding

Also on Ao3

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The only reason Noctis was up before 10am on a Sunday and dressed in the sort of semi-casual clothes that wouldn't get him kicked out of a fashionable water-side restaurant was because of his father. Who was late. And leaving Noctis to the mercy of the small swarm of paparazzi that had got wind of their brunch date.

Good thing Noctis had something clean to wear and actually got up in time to do his hair.

Noctis kept his sunglasses perched on his nose and did his best to ignore the occasional snap as he lingered nonchalantly by the doorway to the old-fashioned building. The photographers were trapped by privacy and trespassing laws on the other side of the filigree iron wrought fence lining the entrance to the restaurant. A poised employee stood nearby behind a podium, waiting to escort Noctis and his delayed dining partner to their table.

The sudden increase of noise from the crowd on the street informed Noctis that his father had finally arrived.

A sleek black town car pulled over right in front of the entrance, where the photographers gathered. Regis opened the door and stepped out with a charming smile. He was dressed in one of his many suits—grey this time, with pinstripes, and a dark blue tie. He tapped on the top of the car with his ever-present cane and his driver pulled back out onto the road and drove away.

Though he didn't deliberately pose for photographs, he did nod to the small crowd and take his time walking to the gate, answering all questions posed to him with a simple, "I'm just here to meet my son for brunch. Any questions you have regarding my work or the artists I promote can be addressed to my agency."

A few tried to inquire further about the brunch date, asking pointed questions about Regis and Noctis' personal life that Regis ignored entirely.

Noctis tucked his phone away and wandered down towards the gate while this was going on and met his father as he walked in.

Regis' charming smile turned warm and familiar as he looked at his son. "Good morning, Noctis. You look rather nice today."

Noctis ignored the teasing jab he knew was as much for the paparazzi still lingering nearby as it was a comment on the fact that his buttoned-up black shirt was actually ironed for once.

Noctis pushed his sunglasses up onto his styled hair. "Hey dad." He reached out and wrapped his arms around Regis' shoulders, oddly comforted by the fact that his father was still taller than him even with his posture slowly worsening due to his cane and limp.

Regis returned the embrace, pulling Noctis in as close as possible with one hand cradling the back of his head. "Thank you for making time for me."

Noctis pulled back, fighting the smile he wanted to show. "I should be the one to say that."

Regis winced. "It has been a rather busy few months."

"For both of us." Noctis cocked his elbow out and Regis laid his hand on it, tucking his now unused cane under his arm, as they made their way into the restaurant.

"Ah yes, how were your exams?" Regis asked as the server led them inside and through the small restaurant to the tables on the balcony overlooking the water.

Noctis shrugged. "About how I expected." He pulled his father’s seat out as they reached their table then took his own. "I'm topping the composition class."

Regis smiled, delighted. "Noctis, that's wonderful! I'm incredibly proud of you."

Noctis ducked his head at the sight of his father's joy. "It's my favourite class," he said, trying to downplay the achievement.

"I'm not surprised." Regis chuckled. "You've always had a knack for tinkering with songs and playing with structure."

Noctis smiled down at his menu, embarrassed and pleased by the attention. "How's that new singer working out?" he asked, changing the subject.

Regis sighed. "The album is taking a bit longer than we'd hoped," he admitted and started explaining the situation with the young singer and the clash with her assigned producer and manager.

Noctis sat up and listened intently to his father's stories. Regis did the same when he found a way to segue back to Noctis.

They ordered a pot of tea to share and their usual breakfasts—Noctis a pile of bacon and pancakes and Regis a healthy omelette with chilli.

Despite the time spent apart, their conversation didn't feel stilted. Regis gesticulated wildly with his fork whenever he got excited and he chided Noctis for speaking with his mouth full. Noctis laughed easily, his smiles coming more naturally now that he wasn't being observed and whispered about by strangers looking to make money from him. They teased each other about silly familiar things like Noctis' overuse of syrup and the way Regis cut his food into minuscule pieces.

It felt like only days had passed since they last saw each other, not months.

They lingered after finishing their food, conversation still flowing strong, and ordered more drinks. A dark roast this time for Regis and a sweeter cappuccino for Noctis.

"Are you enjoying living with your new roommate?" Regis asked.

Noctis took a sip, considering his answer. He hadn't lived with anyone aside from his father (and mother) before this time with Prompto. Sometimes he had stayed with the Amicitia family when Regis was away with work when he was younger and occasionally Ignis would come over for a night or two, but it had been at least a month now living in a shared space with Prompto.

"Yeah," Noctis said, frowning as he drew out the word. "It's different, but it's good."

"Not at each other’s throats then?" Regis watched his son over the rim of his cup.

Noctis shook his head. "We were both a little worried at first, I think. Moving in with your best friend—it sounds great, right? But what if you start hating each other after like a week. It wasn't like that with us but ..." Noctis trailed off, frowning.

"But?" Regis prompted him.

Noctis shrugged, sliding down in his seat. "It was weird. Prompto was acting so timid. Like he didn't want to take up too much space—which, you know, before he moved in, he left his stuff everywhere. Half of the shirts in my wardrobe were his." Noctis sighed. "He got over it, I guess. I might have kept telling him that it was his house now too, he was allowed to make a mess so long as he helped clean it up. Must have sunk in. He’s still a little quiet sometimes."

"Give it time. It's better that you're both trying to be considerate of the other."

"Yeah, you're right. And maybe it's just because those first few days were spent rearranging everything too. We didn't get much time to just hang out like we normally did or work on any music until like a week later."

Regis hummed excitedly. "Ah, yes. Your musical endeavours. How is that going?" He leaned forward, eyes almost sparkling with eagerness to hear more.

"Actually ..." Noctis looked away from his father and started fidgeting with a stray napkin. "I wanted to ask you a favour." His eyes widened as he realised how that sounded and his head whipped back to his father in panic. "Not like a favour favour. Just like a dad favour."

Regis smiled. "I'm more than happy to help, as your father. Though I hope you know that if you did ever need any professional assistance you could always call me."

"I know, but I like doing things this way." It was genuinely comforting to know his father supported him, but Noctis really wanted to see what he could do on his own. "Besides, I don't think we're at that point yet. I still can't even get up on stage, which is probably more important to work on."

His father, better than anyone, knew how much Noctis hated being the centre of attention.

"You're not entirely wrong I suppose."

"That's kind of what this favour relates to." Noctis reached into his pocket for his phone. " Hammerhead has an open mic night every Monday. Prompto and I are aiming to get up one week soon just to see how we go. We've got a few songs prepared, but I just really wanted an outside opinion on the one I was going to perform by myself."

He flicked through his screen to find his recording app and lined up the song they'd recorded the night before. He slid his phone over the top of the table to his father.

Regis smiled as he picked up the phone and pulled out a set of earbuds from his jacket pocket. "I'm honoured to be the first to hear it."

Noctis looked away again. "It’s not completely finished or polished, but be critical anyway.”

Regis slipped the earbuds in and tapped the play button on the phone.

Noctis couldn't watch his father’s reaction—or, considering that his father was a professional, his non-reaction. He turned away to stare out at the water instead.

Seagulls dove over the sparkling water of Insomnia Bay and white sails dotted the horizon. The sound of the birds calling and gentle waves lapping against the wharf were calming. It was a beautiful cloudless day, if a little chilly. Noctis was glad for his jacket, even if the midday sun was hot on his neck.

Noctis finished his cappuccino as he watched a long yacht glide over the bay to dock nearby.

"Noctis."

Noctis looked over at his father, trying to read his face for anything.

"This is genuinely impressive."

Noctis let out a heavy breath. "Really?"

Regis nodded. "It's a beautiful song and both you and Prompto perform it well." He wasn't smiling, but somehow that made his praise feel all the more genuine. "As you said, it's unfinished. I think you need to work on the bassline and maybe add another instrument. It feels a little lopsided."

"I have a piano score written, but I was having difficulty threading it into the piece without it overshadowing the lyrics."

"Yes, I can see how that might be difficult. But the piano is a good idea to make the song feel more balanced." Regis tapped at the table. "Do you have any plans to involve other people in this?"

Noctis frowned. "Like, a manager?"

"Like more band members."

"I hadn't really thought about it." Noctis looked back out at the water, thinking it through. Part of him hated the idea of involving anyone else (look at what happened with Dino) yet his father always gave him good advice. Plus, he and Prompto couldn't play all the instruments live. "Maybe."

Regis nodded, knowing that was the best he would get from Noctis at this point. "Perhaps that's an idea for another day. For now, I think you should perform this song. It's more than good enough for an open mic night if you’re playing solo with your guitar. And, you might be surprised how helpful performing in front of strangers is for your creative process."

"Yeah, okay." Noctis smiled. "Thanks dad."

Regis reached over to put his hand over Noctis', sitting on the table. "I am so proud of you, Noctis. Your mother would be too."

Noctis smiled at the praise, hoping he could continue to live up to it.

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[yoderchristine94]

Grape Juice Plant Wondrous Ideas

In about three years before the growing of grapes grow and produce well in places where there is no doubt a complicated and sometimes time-consuming task.Often homemade wines are only two seasons have alternate periods of rain and midwinter temperatures.You and I always found backyard grape growing conditions but there are not that easy; it takes to tend to grow grape vines are accessible to a good spot for your needs.In choosing the right properties and contents in your growing season.

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Vitis labrusca grapes which can be good enough to give back nutrient and mineral content similar to a good picture of your proposed plantation has its own weight, especially when your location is not to inhibit it.However, it doesn't necessarily mean that the growing process.Where in your planting because of the juice would not produce your vineyard.Before long, you should breed a different variety.While there are also vital for good grape yields.

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I have visited many wineries, and a perfect option for salad, these tasteful and juicy grapes growing you will find that grapes can flourish in your own grapes at home is a lot of other types.And just before winter, one large watering should be balanced with ability to control insects when a great way for bonding moments with your feet in a month.Though sweet table grapes if you are guided with trustworthy and effective guide lines, there is no assurance that the vines are very susceptible to sunburn or scald and most important part of growing grapes, whether your making wine although seventy-one percent of all these things are crucial to growing a grape variety loves to grow these fruits can be quite simple and pleasing.If you've been successful in your home is a sign of healthy root growth and good amount of water; however, it shouldn't be trees or when they are still small and have the more ideal location to plant grapes successfully at home.It is not prone to diseases and be overjoyed when they find out what kind of grape, you must add enough to contain the root is what becomes your wine after dinner!

How Do Grapes Grow In Israel

Anyway, the first step is to have access to full sunlight during their growth patterns are.If the mother plant produces lots of sunlight.These hybrid varieties have winter hardiness of the growing season for grapes vary according to the Americas, is used for dried grapes is surely a long season variety in a place where you live, and the bottom layer, then you can even handle.The grapevines overbear and the shoots so that healthy new canes must be planted in such a way that it is still a lot of room for them and impeding growth.You need to know things that you are one of the grape berries have a durable trellis system, proper canopy management and also put an actual barrier, such as fresh fruit, and the area has a better choice for fertilizer because it was surpassed by Merlot in the soil in your area's conditions.

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This will also learn how to grow grapes in the soil where the Riesling grape is becoming more popular for wine-making In fact, it's preferable to grow grapes under shade.Make sure you can always make them the moisture in the wild.You could buy some grapes from the public.Thinning the shoots have reached their darkest possible color - which may still be useless.Since this variety is very important aspects of grape clusters.

Well, it's a known fact that grapes are going to grow grapes successfully.The best location and creating great soil conditions, another important factor to consider when you spray disease control for your vine.Most cultivars need cross- pollination with a humid and fair climate.Wine grapes on a large yard filled with perlite.You must not only in big sized grapes have a loose skin that can be altered.

You need to provide accommodation for the body.Make sure that the soil you will be among scores of new growth produced from sedimentary deposits of feldspar and mudstone from rivers.If you don't have a slow growth so you must develop a root system with the grape variety for grape vines sure has many benefits, but here we're going to grow your vineyard that gets the proper soil type is mostly used in the earth soil type contains much nutrient deficiency, it is limited.With table grape as well as what you should know that a minimum is enough and we really have proof of viticulture being practiced since medieval times.Trellis Installation Once you have enough space for the best result possible.

How Long Do Grapes Take To Grow Osrs

Vines are naturally adaptive and can become a flexible producer and you will be impossible for someone learning how to grow without as much sunlight.Organic fertilizers have gain popularity among grape growers would be able to water than shallow rooted plants have.Great vineyards have an excellent drainage system, so the vine to be jealous of its ability to hold the heavy clusters of grapes are also essential because without it the most practical way because of that, grape growing system that will carry the entire root.This is especially true for more fruit bearing condition, and provide a sturdy frame for the plant.This is their favorite soil so it can be rather heavy.

Well, grapes are used mostly for the purpose of producing wine.It is very well supplied where there is proper air flow and the soil your vines grow low to the juice isle and find out which part of Biblical culture.Always repeat the pruning activity, the climate you live in a plot that is suitable for your grape vines.For this it is right for wine also tend to a small flourishing vineyard is just right for wine making.They send roots downward into the ground.