#knifescythe

[somanywords]

cass!!!!!! you’re watching jatp!!!!!! how do you like it so far?

I AM!!!! SO FAR I AM LIKING IT PRETTY GOOD!

the music isn’t stuff i normally listen to, but it’s growing on me A LOT, and i’m in love with those three idiots--and julie and flynn are just--*chef’s kiss* and then the actual plot is pretty cool too--is that girl at the beginning julie’s mom??? who’s the creepy dude in the cloak??? why did they die from eating hotdogs??? why can julie see them??? don’t answer those questions, but anyways i’m having fun!

#i was reeling over the first fatws episode #and julie and the phantoms on top of that killed me #i was emotionally compromised #but we're good now #asks #meg #knifescythe

[thechangeling]

Tell me I'm wrong

This was lowkey inspired by a particular scene from btvs. If you know then you know.

I currently want to unlive myself like a lot so... here.

"Ty we have to talk about this." Livvy was floating beside his desk on his room at the Scholomance. Ty was currently buried in schoolwork and trying to ignore her. Normally she wouldn't interrupt, but this was a conversation he kept putting off.

She was starting to get irritated. "Ty honestly, I don't understand why you would just send him one stupid letter!" Livvy whined. "Just to say thank you for the necklace."

Ty rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this Liv. Please just let me focus." Livvy groaned at his dismissal. Ty had been doing this for months now.

"You never have time Tiberius! That's my point. You keep dodging the subject!" Livvy cried. She zoomed closer to him. "I understand you're upset and it ended badly, but if you just talk-."

Ty cut her off by aggressively slamming his pen down. "I can't do this right now Livia! Please just stop it! I don't want to talk to him, so just drop it!"

But Livvy was undeterred. She was used to angry Ty. She was used to any Ty. He was her twin and she could handle anything he threw at her. Sometimes literally.

Livvy took a deep breath. "I know you care about him Ty-Ty, and I think he cares about you." She watched as Ty flinched slightly. He was picking at the draw strings on his pants.

"I just wish you would consider writing to him," she continued. Ty closed his eyes, and for a moment she was frustrated that he seemed to be ignoring her.

But then he opened his eyes and Livvy saw there were tears. She froze, not knowing what to say. Ty's breathing was becoming harsher and more frantic.

"Liv, I've-." He stammered. "I've been trying. Trying not to think. To just get my work done and fo-focus on doing what I need to," he spoke in a shakey fragile voice. It had been a very long time since she had seen him speak in such staggering fragments with so much difficulty.

Not since he was younger.

She approached him with the intent to hug him, then remembered he was in fact incorporeal. He was starting to cry.

"I just-." He gasped. "I know it's my fault." He pulled his knees up to his chest. "I know it was me. That's why he left. And I should have known better. I dragged him into something. Something horrible," he sobbed. "Because I'm selfish. So selfish and stupid and I broke so many laws!" He was visibly shaking now.

Livvy's heart broke. "You were trying to get me back Ty," she reasoned with him. "Yeah you screwed up but it doesnt mean you're a bad person! And it doesnt make Kit leaving your fault."

Ty shook his head. "I didn't care about the consequences, or anything else. I did something bad Livvy, something really bad and theres still a part of me that doesnt care." He began to rub his hands up and down his legs whole rocking back and forth slightly. Tears ran down his pale cheeks. "Because I'm bad," he whispered. "I'm bad and I'm wrong Liv. I always do the wrong thing."

Livvy stared at him in horror. How long had he been feeling like this?

"That's not true Ty!" She protested. "Please honey you have to believe me, you aren't bad!" She could feel herself beginning to cry as well.

"But it's true," Ty sobbed. He sounded like he was close to hyperventilating. "I'm wrong. I've always been wrong and that's why-. That's why he left me!"

Livvy's eyes watered. It was pretty clear that Ty was having what apparently was called a meltdown. But there had to be some part of him deep down that believed what he was saying. She shook her head. "Ty-Ty that is not true! You are not evil just because you made some bad calls, ok? That's not how it works. I know you better then anyone and you are good!" She said firmly, trying not to cry.

"You are wonderful, and brilliant and you care so much," she mused. "So much that I think it overwhelms you. You are not wrong Ty. You are everything, and I love you so much," she pleaded.

Livvy could have told him about Kit and how it was pretty obvious that he loved Ty, but she sensed it wasnt the time. She had a feeling Ty would need a non dead person to hold him now. But unfortunately she couldn't call for help.

Ty was gripping his hair and pulling at the strands, gasping and sobbing uncontrollably. "He's gone," he choaked. Ty designed his fingernails down across his arms, drawing blood.

"Shhh," Livvy pleaded. "Don't talk anymore    Ty-Ty. It's gonna be ok."

But the truth was she had no idea what to say to Ty anymore. She had no advice to offer the broken boy before her. There was nothing she could do. Livvy couldn't bring Kit back. She couldn't make his pain go away. She coukdnt even hold him anymore.

"I can't breath Liv," he sobbed. "I feel like I can't breathe."

She sat down in front of him. There was nothing she could do, except be there for him. Just be with him and sit with her brother while he cried.

So that was exactly what she would do.

The lines, "I can't breathe. I feel like I can't breathe" and "I'm wrong," are from btvs.

Tag list: @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @dianasarrow  @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @heloisacosta23 @adoravel-fenomeno @fictionally-fantastic @noah-herondale-lightwood

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #ty blackthorn #twp #livvy blackthorn #ty and livvy #tw meltdown #tw internalized ableism #i did angry Ty so now i guess this us self hating Ty #kit x ty

[i-love-side-characters]

"...Then, nearly fifty years later, when we had both turned our first corner and were seeing the world through youthful eyes once more--but this time with the wisdom of age on our side--we became lovers."

Citra grinned. "You broke the ninth commandment."

what i'm getting from this is citra is canonically a curaday shipper (or she's just excited to learn that curie actually broke a commandment, but i'm choosing to believe the former because reasons)

she IS AND WE LOVE HER FOR THAT

no because like??? curie and faraday talking about their relationship??? just how venerable they are when they talk about each other??? these two older, elegant scythes who are widely respected by the scythedom are not people who discuss their personal feelings, but when they do, the hints they drop that they still have feeling’s for each other. 

“[Scythe Faraday] looked at [Scythe Curie]―perhaps a bit wistfully, Citra thought.” (page 128, Scythe) - A bit wistfully??? Please, even Citra, who always describes her ability to read people as pitiful notices how he looks at her. Like???

Then she sobered a bit, looking a bit sheepish, which was a strange expression for steely Scythe Curie (page 346, Scythe) - This happens when Curie is talking about how she had a crush on Faraday. That sheepish smile. I can’t―

“Oh, you should have seen [Scythe Faraday] in those days, Citra. You’ve only seen him old. He likes to remain that way to keep himself from being tempted by a younger man’s passions.” Scythe Curie smiled as she spoke about her former mentor. (page 346, Scythe) - No because that cue??? Smiling talking about Faraday. Curie and Faraday both drop a lot of conversational cues about their feelings. They pause after remembering their time together, they smile fondly. This is one example of that. 

“Seven deaths, and seventy years later, many things had changed. We remained old friends after that, but nothing more.” Scythe Curie seemed a mix of many emotions, but she folded them all away, like clothes that no longer fit, and closed the drawer. Citra suspected she never spoke of this to anyone else, and would probably never speak of it again. (page 348, Scythe) - “We remained old friends after that, but nothing more.” And then immediately after that, Citra describes Curie to shove her emotions back into a drawer, and then she says that Curie would never speak of this again. That vulnerability! Literally I can’t― I can’t with these two.

[Scythe Faraday] nodded. “And her for me. She told you that, didn’t she? Well, it was a very long time ago.” Outside the rain finally began to fall, surging in fits and starts. “I love the way it rains here.” he told her. “It reminds me that some forces of nature can be never entirely subdued. They are enteral, which is a far better thing to be than immortal.” And so they sat listening to the soothing randomness of the rain until Citra began to grow too weary to even think. (page 372, Scythe) - Again with the conversational hints. An incredibly long pause after a discussion about their relationship. Faraday is talking about how they died for each other. Then he starts talking philosophy. The cues.

NOT TO MENTION THE!!!! THE HEART RATE THING!!!! IN THUNDERHEAD!!!!

NOT TO MENTION THAT THIS!!!! IS ALL!!!! FROM ONE BOOK!!!! I’m not even talking about how Faraday kept the journal entry like a “poorly penned love letter.” I’m not talking about in Thunderhead when he tells her that he has every confidence in her ability to become High Blade. I’m not even talking about when he finds out she died.

I  C A N ‘ T

Scythe cult: @zoyyanazyalensky @genyyasafin @knifescythe @greysonstollivers @secondstosunrise 

bored? send me serotonin please <3

#asks #moot: my WIFE my LOVE #not main content #arc of a scythe #scythe curie #scythe faraday #hs curie #hs faraday #curaday #otp: is it true you died seven deaths for her? #otp: and her for me #scythe spoilers #thunderhead spoilers #toll spoilers #the toll spoilers #tw caps #SORRY I JUST LOVE THEM

[rainingpouringetc]

✨a ficlet for Alastair and Ariadne please? Happy 200 followers!!!

hiiii tysm :))) i love writing for these two, we’ve been cheated of their relationship smh fix this judith pls i beg you let them be friendssss

anyway i hope you like <3 this is longer than i expected lol

Ariadne had always sought out higher ground when she was upset, ever since she was a child. She had never been sure why--maybe it had something to do with the way the air was clearer or being able to see out across an entire city. Or, she thought as she perched on the edge of the roof of an abandoned building, maybe it was just about getting away from people. It was isolated up here. She could feel like she was the only person in the world, and it didn’t make her feel lonely. It just made her feel free.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and for a moment she tensed, ready to tell whoever it was--probably one of the Merry Thieves or someone of similar insufferability--to shove off and leave her alone. Before she could, a familiar voice drawled lazily, “And what brings you here on this obscure, dreary London day?”

She turned to face the approaching figure. Alastair Carstairs. He wasn’t in gear, unlike her, and was instead clad in a fashionable ensemble of dove gray, his pitch black hair uncharacteristically unkempt and his dark eyes dancing with something like vexation, or perhaps exhaustion. Sometimes it was hard to tell with him.

He settled onto the roof next to her, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands as he regarded her expectantly. With a sigh, Ariadne turned her gaze back to the horizon of buildings she’d been memorizing. “I talked to Anna yesterday.” She saw Alastair’s eyebrows twitch up and knew he was biting his tongue to keep his quips to himself. “She still hasn’t changed her mind about me. About love. I just... needed to be away from it all.” Alastair looked like he was going to say something thoughtful that she wouldn’t want to hear, so rather than give him the chance, she turned and demanded, “What brings you here, anyway? You don’t have patrol tonight.”

“Neither do you,” he retorted with a pointed look.

He was right. Ariadne had slipped into her gear tonight for no reason other than having wanted to. She’d wanted to feel the fabric against her skin as she ran through the streets and scaled the building to its roof. Gear was so much better for recklessness and impulsive decisions than dresses were, anyway.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” It was Ariadne’s turned to raise an eyebrow until her friend frowned and looked away. Alastair pushed himself forward until his shoulders were almost hunched and looked down at his hands. They were flecked with gravel from the roof’s surface, evidence of how heavily he’d been leaning on them to hold himself up. Ariadne didn’t often worry about her friend, but tonight she did.

Alastair’s sigh held a mixture of frustration and weariness. She knew this because she’d heard it many times before, often before he recounted a story from his less than ideal childhood or time at the Academy. Or-- “I had an encounter with my father.” That. “It wasn’t particularly bad, even, it’s just... I thought with Cordelia knowing about his... condition, now, that he’d truly change.” He shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. “How naive I was.”

“You weren’t naive,” she whispered, not sure if she was talking about him. “You were hopeful. And you had a right to be.”

“Lot of good it did me.” Ariadne nearly flinched at the bitterness in his voice. Today was a bad day, it seemed, for both of them.

But why should it have to stay that way?

Ariadne shook her head as though she could empty it of all her negative thoughts. She held up her hand as though raising an imaginary glass of champagne. “Here’s to surviving,” she told him, trying to catch his eye. His gaze was suspicious, but after a moment he chuckled and raised his own hand.

“Here’s to friends.”

They clinked their imaginary glasses and turned to look out at the horizon. A comfortable silence stretched between it, and Ariadne felt she could dive into it and never have to resurface for air. It was nice, the way she and Alastair could sometimes just sit with no expectations or pressure of unwanted conversation. They let it come naturally rather than awkwardly fumble for topics of interest.

It was inevitable that they’d have to speak again, though. This time, Alastair was the one to clear his throat first and say, “I’ve never been to this part of London before.”

It was a quiet, reflective comment, and Ariadne wasn’t quite sure if he’d said it to her or simply spoken a realization aloud. He did that occasionally. 

“I hadn’t either,” Ariadne admitted after a pause. “But I felt like exploring today.” She frowned and looked at him fully. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“I wasn’t looking for you,” he said with a cheeky smile. “I was exploring myself when I looked up and saw you. Good thing that I was, too, or who knows how long you’d be pining away up here.”

Ariadne faked a dramatic gasp. “I’m not pining! I’m just...” She couldn’t think of a good comeback, but it didn’t matter. Alastair was laughing at the expression on her face, a joyous laugh that was far too rare for its beauty. It was contagious, and moments later they were both dissolved in fits of giggles over everything and nothing all at once.

It was a perfect way to end a bad day, Ariadne thought when Alastair stood and offered a hand to help her up. They took the stairs to get down--stairs Ariadne had pointedly ignored when she’d spotted the building, opting instead to climb the bricks as an extra sort of challenge--and walked side by side down the street, trading happier stories and jokes and memories. 

Ending the day with a friend guaranteed that it had not been all that bad.

tagging some mutuals i think might enjoy (ever so sorry if u don’t wanna be tagged): @doitforthecarstairs @littlx-songbxrd @imherongraystairstrash @carstairstessa @knifescythe @stxr-thxif @lifewouldbebetteronmars <333 

#i didn't edit or revise or anything bc i'm tired so what u see is what u get #i am Tired but i love writing for these two #200 followers #artie tries to write #tlh #the last hours #ariadne bridgestock #alastair carstairs #tlh fanfic

[orindas]

that dreamers often lie

I go by meg, ellis, and cecil!! i don’t have any nicknames but you can absolutely give me some

she/they/any pronouns

18

queer, just really fucking queer

please feel free to tag me in any art/edits/fics you have!!!!

I love finding new creators and works so if it’s in any of my fandoms or we're mutuals please randomly tag me, send an ask, or dm me!!

mutuals can ask for my discord

you can reblog any of my posts, I literally don't care. If I do not want something reblogged I will put a specific 'do not rb' tag on it, or I will reach out to you to delete it if I need to

I am trying to get better at tagging things but i'm still not the best. If you need anything specific tagged please send an ask/dm!!!

I am very liberal with the block button. Just try to be a decent person before you follow me <3

Fandoms

the owl house

spop

one last stop

red, white, and royal blue

scythe

carmen sandiego

julie and the phantoms

the shadowhunter chronicles, specifically the last hours trilogy

six of crows duology, nikolai duology, grishaverse trilogy

marie lu books, especially skyhunter and warcross

osemanverse

general queer ya lit (series and standalones)

Previous urls:

luumitys, mcquistons, knifescythe, storm-witchs, catalinaajune

there are a few others from before that, but I don't remember some of them, others were very temporary, and the rest are from fandoms I'm not In and don't have any mutuals from

about my username:

orinda was the pen name of 17th century english poet Kathrine Philips, who had many amazing poems, but is very well known for her works on female friendship. let’s be clear that these poems were gay af, to the point my religious mother upon coming across them in our english textbook asked me point blank whether I thought she was really talking about friendship in it.

one quote that can kinda sum up the vibes of these poems is from Friendships Mystery, to My Dearest Lucasia in which she writes “To the dull angry world let’s prove/there’s a religion in our love”

I’m not really a huge poetry person myself, but I really love these poems for their literary value, as well as it’s meaning for both sapphic romantic love and platonic love. basically I’m really gay and really nerdy and would love to be the object of someone’s feral poetry some day

#megs mind #ellis talks #to pin

[malewifegradyruewen]

An Untitled Original Work Goes To Pride

happy pride!! the auow crew is gay so ofc i had to do something for pride!!

i’m realising now that i’m basically writing fanfic for my own writing but it’s fine somebody’s gotta do it

this takes place the summer before auow actually starts, so no Sammie content (or Logan, Benji, or Ellison)

disclaimer: i've never been to pride so most of this came from google and a vague memory from walking through a Christopher Street Day festival in Germany two summers ago

masterpost

trigger warnings: biphobia, swearing, light violence mention, ask to tag

word count: 1018

tagging: @fire-sapphics @damischs @zoyyanazyalensky @love-pyramus @ketterdamkid @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sophia-not-sofie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle @knifescythe @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @completekeefitztrash and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

They could see the mass of people from blocks away. Thousands of brightly dressed people, with all sorts of signs and accessories to help them stand out in the crowd. Music blared louder than any concert Mally had ever been to.

Gina had swapped her all-black look for black jean shorts and purple converse to go with a t-shirt she’d tie-dyed and cropped. Leo had been slathering on sunscreen, but was growing increasingly more distracted as they drew nearer to the crowd. Andre’s fanny pack was covered in buttons and pins that the group had applied the night before in preparation for the event.

“Woah, Mally, this is insane,” Leo said. “There’s so much going on!”

“I know, right?” she said gleefully. “Come on, we can’t be late to watch the parade!”

She led the group of friends through the crowded streets of the festival, weaving past vendors and corporate booths. The crowds were thick, but she expertly dodged people, making sure to hold onto Andre's hand so the chain wouldn’t be broken. Finally, they arrived at the curb where they would have an unobscured vantage point.

“They’re starting!” she pointed. “Look!”

There it was, in all its glory. The Philadelphia Pride Parade was just beginning, and they’d arrived just in time.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here!” Gina said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I never thought I’d be able to go!”

“I know, right? My parents are so chill. I never thought they’d go for this idea.”

“Where are they today?”

“Uh, they took my sister to a museum, I think. But come on, let’s watch the parade!”

The four kids watched gleefully as the parade went by, waving at performers and screaming along to the music. They collected beads as they were thrown into the crowds, collecting several dozen and putting them all around Andre’s neck.

Partway through the spectacle, Mally turned to Gina and said, “Hold this.” She thrust the little flag she’d been holding at her friend and pulled her backpack off. She unzipped it, reached inside, and pulled out a bisexual flag. “This is for you, I totally forgot about it this morning.”

“Oh my God, Mally, thank you so much!” Gina exclaimed, hugging her friend. “I love it, thank you!” Her excitement was infectious as she unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders as a cape.

Mally whipped out a lesbian flag and followed suit while Gina showed her new accessoriy off to the boys. Leo grabbed a little container of bubbles out of his pocket and started blowing them in Gina’s face while Andre threw some of his beads around her neck.

When the parade ended, their chain linked up once more as they visited different booths and got countless freebies. Rubbery wristbands choked their forearms, while Leo’s shirt became plastered with stickers. Andre suddenly had not one, but four pairs of bright orange sunglasses on his face, all sporting a logo for a company none of them had ever heard of. After a bit of wandering, Gina stopped to buy a snack.

“You spent eight dollars on a pretzel?” Andre asked.

“What?” she defended herself. “I was hungry! Plus, I got a sticker,” she added, peeling off the backing and adding it to the collection that had amassed on Leo’s shirt.

“That’s still a lot,” Andre said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Gina agreed, her mouth full of pretzel. “It’s not even that good.”

“I’ll eat it!” Leo grabbed at it, but she dodged him and left him to stumble to catch his balance.

“Mine,” she said, grabbing Mally’s arm and moving on to the next vendor.

They continued in this fashion for nearly an hour, wandering the market-like plaza that had been erected on the grass. The energy level of their friend group dropped, but the party kept going stronger than ever. They passed all sorts of people, from kids younger than themselves to people who looked old enough to be grandparents. There were too many flags to keep track of, and dozens of outrageous outfits.

As the group made their way through the park, they came to an open, grassy area, where people had spread out blankets and were eating food, watching their kids run around, and just relaxing. The friends sat down on a patch of soil under a tree, soaking up a bit of shade. As excited as they were to be there, they had to admit their energy was dwindling.

Just then, a tall man in jeans and a baseball cap came up and stepped on Gina’s flag, knocking her backwards onto the ground. “Hey!” she yelled. “What the fuck!”

“Bisexual is just attention seeking,” the man said gruffly. “Pick one or the other. Don’t be greedy.”

“What the hell, dude?” Mally cried, standing up. “What’s your problem?”

“Bisexual isn’t real,” he spat. “She’s just a straight who’s trying to feel special.”

“Oh yeah? Think again,” Gina said, untying her flag and standing up. Before anyone knew what was going on, the man was on the ground, spitting curses at her.

Mally knew what was happening next before Gina could tell her. She gave a small nod before Gina grabbed her face and kissed her square on the lips. Andre and Leo’s cheers in the background only boosted her confidence. After a moment, Gina backed up and spat in the man’s face.

“Straight my ass. I’m here, I’m queer, and I strike fear into the hearts of my enemies!” she yelled as the man scrambled to his feet and ran away.

Mally turned to her and gave her a high-five. “Didn’t think we were gonna have to use that trick. Good thing we were prepared.”

“That was awesome,” Leo said. “You pushed him really hard.”

“Yeah, I was not expecting that,” Andre chimed in. “And yeah, good thing you guys were prepared.”

“Team effort,” Gina smiled at Mally.

“Yep,” she laughed back. “Is your flag okay?”

Gina bent down to pick it up. “Just a bit dirty, I think. Your gift isn’t ruined.”

“Awesome,” Mally said. “Now, who wants ice cream? It’s on me!”

#jolie's shitty writing #auow

[genyyasafin]

Consequences (They’re finally here)

Part 2 of 8!! Featuring young Curie and her grandmother (sort of) and told in the style of an interview. 

Tagging: @zoyyanazyalensky @fire-sapphics @official-flower-consultant @jam-is-my-food @i-love-side-characters @damischs @knifescythe

Somewhere in MidMerica, Year of the Raptor, 8 months after the sinking of Endura

BT (interviewer): Hello, I’m here about Susan Bauer?

VB (interviewee): *imperiously* No. You’re here about Honorable Scythe Marie Curie. I have little to add that has not already been said. 

BT *visibly confused*: I was led to believe that they were the same person. 

VB: Oh, they are. In a sense. You see, Scythe Curie has been and has been seen as many things. Apprentice and leader, infamous and simply famous, enigma and open book. However, Susan Bauer has only ever been two things: a little girl with a conscience, and my favorite granddaughter. 

BT: You sound like you have a lot to say about her. 

VB: She deserves more notice than she has ever been given. You see, if you had asked Susan Bauer, countless years ago, she would have told you that she knew everything there was to know about consequences. She would have told you that they were punishments for wrongful actions and therefore she never needed to fear them. And she’d have told you that consequences were always justified. She’d have been wrong on all three counts, lessons that she appears to have learned all too late. 

BT: I’m beginning to see what drove her to become the Scythe Curie we all know today. 

VB: You don’t, not really, and you couldn’t without being there. No matter what name she was known as, Susan was a force of nature that changed every life around her for the better. Perhaps the best example of this came years ago, in times I can scarcely remember. Susan was a teenager, I’ve forgotten what year. She hadn’t yet gotten mixed up in the scythedom though. Have you ever set back your age?

BT: No. 

VB: Then you weren’t there, in those early days. It isn’t an experience that can be recreated. Everyone was just a little bit corrupt and just a little bit scared. Police officers, however, were among the worst. 

BT: Police officers?

VB: They were something like the Nimbus officers without being beholden to the Thunderhead. Instead, they were beholden only to themselves and that made them dangerous. Trying to avoid them was a potentially deadly game of chess- both sides knew the moves, it was down to which side could execute them better. One common move, for those brave enough, was to step between the police officer and the victim and film them. However, this was meant for people older, stronger, more than a small little girl who spoke too angrily. Not that it was enough to stop Susan. 

BT: What happened?

VB: Hush. Let me tell the story. You see, I was with her when it happened. We’d been doing… something… and we’d come across a police officer cornering a girl not much older than Susan herself. One second, I’m a bit hazy on the details.

VB: I believe the police officer was asking about the girl’s parents, it was a bit hard to see. However, she was clearly uncomfortable and was constantly asking to leave. The officer, instead, moved closer and asked louder. Susan was, as always, incapable of staying away from a misdeed. I remember telling her to stay put, that I’d take care of it, but she rushed out of my hold and towards the scene. She started recording the disruption and asked loudly what the girl had done to warrant such treatment. The officer did not have a very good answer, instead gesturing and muttering something about how she was “obstructing justice” or “if she would just cooperate, we could have avoided all of this”

BT: What? That’s… ridiculous. Why didn't the Thunderhead discipline them?

VB: The Thunderhead had very little power back then, now let me get back to the story, please. Anyway, Susan, obviously, was unimpressed. She told the officer that unless the poor girl was a suspect in a murder- because that was still a thing in those barbaric days- he would need to leave and this was not, in fact, an emergency. Alone, this may not have done much. However, I loudly agreed with her, and soon other people chimed in as well. Perhaps the officer could have handled being chastised by a young woman, but he could not handle being chastised by a young woman with every other man there agreeing with Susan. He slunk away, and the recording went viral. 

BT: Was Susan well known then??

VB: Oh, not really. You see, her face was not in the recording, merely her voice, and few people cared just who had called the corrupt officer out. It was merely important that someone did. Within a few months, the officer was sacked, and police power had been reduced vastly. Susan was not the first loud voice in the debate or the most critical one, but she was unable to resist being one of them. Even back then, there was no conflict that she did not have an opinion on, although perhaps Susan was much more careless with her beliefs than Scythe Curie had become. 

BT: I can see how she ended up the Grand Dame of Death.

VB: Hush. In another world, that moment could have ended very differently. Susan could have been in danger or alienated or ineffective. However, in this world, she was a girl beginning to see the world around her and its bloodiness. She did the right thing and was rewarded with other right decisions. It was experiences like those, surrounded with the support of other righteous people, that set Susan up for the mistakes of Honorable Scythe Marie Curie. She had never been ineffective, had never seen how it could be a blessing in disguise. Oh no, Susan acted on her conscience, and that was a rare thing. Perhaps that's why, through all these years, no one had the heart to teach her the consequences of good decisions.

BT: That’s quite a story. Susan was quite a girl. 

VB: And she may have matured into a different woman, but she stayed just as vibrant. Her fate was ill-deserved, an unjust consequence for someone who was once the fiercest proponent of justice this world has had. Consequences are coming for Rowan Damisch. 

VB *definitively, as if a weight has been lifted from her*: Thank you, for letting me share an old story. Feel free to take some more cookies, and I hope you got all the material you needed. 

#mine #writing #fanfic #scythe #aoas #arc of a scythe #scythe curie

[pallases]

i was tagged by @kadygrants thanks em!

📢 rules: tag nine folks you want to catch up with or get to know better and answer the questions!

❤️ three ships: percy jackson and annabeth chase (pjo), andrew minyard and neil josten (aftg), ladybug and chat noir (ml)

🎤 last song: i don’t dance from hsm2 lmao

📖 currently reading: the inferno by dante alighieri

🎬 currently watching: ghost whisperer

last movie: into the woods

currently craving: purpose 🤪 also garlic bread

tagging: @percyokonjos @neiljoste @jamescordelia @gryewaren @alcara @juliettecais @antigonas @knifescythe @auroraslynch

#tag #just my most recent mutuals :)

[roachmattea]

AKDFJSKJF WHO IS IN THE NOVE GANG- yes i also have an amelie gang it is all kotlc akfjdsjfk

*takes deep breath* the nove gang is people who followed me in the 200 follower race wHICH includes - 

doitforthecarstairs, stxr-thxif, nisha (ofc, novisha is life), knifescythe, sylphrenas, and a few others i can’t remember-

#YEAH #that's most of the nove gang anyway #amelie and nove Interact™ #tw caps #the nove gang #novisha 💕 #IT COUNTS FOR THIS POST #interaction with amelia

[somanywords]

I totally get how you feel about marie lu’s books honestly. her series run the full spectrum of “oh my god I think I might hate this” to “has read it four times and can’t wait for more”. no pressure if you don’t like it because i’m just happy you’re reading it!!

oh that’s good to hear. i read her trilogy with june and day--i forget what it’s called--and that was good...but not too memorable. but i’m happy to try a new one, and i always love book recommendations, even though my trb list is already cavernous...

i will let you know how it goes!

how’s your day going?

#books #marie lu #asks #meg #knifescythe

[somanywords]

:DD rose, sage, lavender, and peach!!!💚

🥺🥺🥺 MEG!!!! a thousand bouquets for you, and on all levels but physical i am sitting in a cool cave with you, reading poetry. thank you for the ask, lovely!

#seriously how wonderful to see your ask--make my whole day why don't you #answered #meg #knifescythe

[thechangeling]

Shame

Kit reflects on his life and his sexual orientation. I guess this is kind of a character study peice but also partly headcanon.

Ok so massive trigger warnings for internalized homophobia and biphobia. Also a 2012 definition and understanding of bisexuality and gender sk sorry about that but I wanted to be accurate to the time period.

I still have a lot of internalized homophobia even in the year of our lord 2021 so I wanted to work through it in my writing I guess.

"I think you're only fighting for the sake of fighting. Because it's the only state in which you can function. The only way to stop that voice in your head from driving you insane. The one telling you that you should be ashamed of yourself for having loved him."

- Black Sails: Season 2 Episide 5

Kit could remember the first time he felt it as clear as day. The first time he felt that twinge at the pit of his stomach after being reprimanded for talking about his crush on a boy. The inward cringe that followed. That disgust others showed him, reflected back onto himself.

Self loathing became as easy as breathing at such a young age.

He could distinctly remember being in mundane first grade and being asked by a loud girl with light blond hair and crystal blue eyes who he had a crush on. Kit had seen no reason to lie at the time. He had told the girl that he had two crushes. One on a girl in their class who was shy and asocial (he had always had a thing for nerds apparently) with her jet black hair that was always full of hello kitty clips, and another on a boy in a different class who was blond like him with a round face and a giant friendly smile that Kit loved to stare at.

At the time he had no real sense of the seriousness of what he was saying. No sense that he was breaking an unspoken rule in the eyes of his classmates. But Kit would never forget the look on the girls face. The eyes that narrowed in distain, the curled lip and the way her nose crinkled in disgust as she she said, "boys arent supposed to have crushes on boys. That's gross." And the cackling laughter of his classmates surrounding him.

And the feeling that followed, the one that would become as familiar and easy as breathing.

Shame.

That pinch in his gut and the way his blood went cold like someone had just injected him with antifreeze. And then the sinking in his chest accompanied by the realization that he had done something terrible. Kit realized that day that he could never make that same mistake again. So after that day he vowed never to talk about his interest in boys ever again.

The first time he heard the word gay he was eight and it was as an insult. It wasn't directed at him but it still felt like it was. He learned to make the connection between the word and disgust and contempt. But as he grew older he became relieved, because he knew he liked girls. He had always thought they were pretty with their soft skin and nice smelling hair. This meant he wasn't gay so he was safe. He convinced himself that he had just been confused before when he was younger.

So he grew up pushing those feelings to the side and telling himself convincing lies over and over until he finally believed it, and Johnny Rook made it easy. Kit was often so preoccupied with running cons and keeping a low profile that he didn't have much time for self reflection. When he found his gaze wandering, he told himself he was just being curious or suspicious or just appreciating an attractive guy from a purely aesthetic point of view and there was absolutely nothing else to it. He kissed pretty girls whenever he had the chance and enjoyed it and relished in the fact that this meant he was safe.

From an outside perspective it may have looked like Kit Herondale was losing control of the situation.

Maybe they were right.

Tiberius Nero Blackthorn felt like a giant fuck you from the universe for believing that he could ever escape this. Or maybe he was a test. But whatever Ty was, it was a little hard to care when he was animatedly explaining the reproductive cycle of a starfish and beaming at Kit with his rare carefree smile that made Kit feel like he was drowning in bliss.

And despite everything. Despite Kit's fear, it made him want to smile too. The urge to reach out and touch Ty was like a burning in his veins, accompanied by the foolish belief that if Kit could just run his fingers through Ty's matted black hair or press his forehead against his, then everything would be alright.

Kit wasn't sure if he should be grateful or furious.

"How beautiful" had been his first thought upon seeing him. Slipping out of some deep treacherous part of him before he could stop it. Followed of course by the shame.

But he wasn't gay. It didn't matter that Ty was beautiful and captivating and made him feel like he was strong enough to fight the gods themselves given the challenge. It didn't mean anything. He was just confused.

And when Julian made a comment about Herondales having a certain type when he called Clary hot, he ignored the twisting of his insides and the painful fact that his thoughts were drifting off into forbidden territory. He pretended that he was what Julian said he was. What he was supposed to be.

When Livvy had asked him to kiss her it felt like a lifeline. A way to distract himself from all the chaos in his life as well as a way to take his mind off of Ty. A pretty girl was giving him something to cling onto, if only for a moment. He still paused to look upwards. An automatic reflex. Almost as if he was a magnet trying to snap back into it's original place.

Livvy kissed him and although it was nice and sweet, he still felt nothing. Only longing for something else.

Then he learned about Kieran and how he was basically Mark's ex boyfriend. He had been sure that Mark was dating Emma so he asked Livvy about it. She had given him a confused look and just said that Mark was bisexual.

Bisexual.

He had heard the word before, mostly to describe celebrities who wanted to make a name for themselves in the tabloids. Kit had always quickly dismissed it before he could allow himself to actually ponder the idea. It was safer to assume it wasn't actually real, because if it wasn't real then it couldn't be him. He wouldn't have to face up to the fact that an attraction to men and women sounded uncomfortably accurate and familiar.

Bisexual. It gnawed at him in his sleep. Poking at his insides and refusing to let him forget it. And so Kit clued his eyes shut and squirmed his way out if it. He thought of the way Ty's smoke coloured eyes seemed to bore into Kit's soul. The sharp angles of his cheekbones and curve of his cupid's bow. Kit thought of the way Ty had asked if he could give Kit a permanent rune and when Kit had answered sarcasticly, Ty's crestfallen expression had horrified him to the point where Kit had practically begged Ty to do it.

Anything to get that look off Ty's face. But it wasn't like that he reminded himself. It wasn't love. It wasn't love.

Jesus. Love. Just the idea of the word sent Kit into a blind panic. And there was that old familiar feeling curling around his gut. That same disgust. That shame.

Not towards Ty. No of course not. He could never feel that way about Ty, or Mark or Kieran or Helen or Aline or anyone else because they didn't deserve it.

But he did. He always did.

When Livvy was killed, Kit almost felt a sense of relief because at least now he had something else to focus on, something g else to worry about. If he was focused on protecting Ty from his own worst instincts then he wouldn't have time to get list I'm thoughts he shouldn't be having.

He knew this made him a selfish horrible person. Kit accepted it.

Kit knew this plan of Ty's was a reckless and horrible idea but he just couldn't stand to see him in pain. He also couldn't bare the thought if what might happen if he refused to help Ty. Also he was helpless in the face of Ty's pleading gaze. Deep down Kit knew that he would probably do anything for him.

He would break himself trying to put Ty back together.

It wasn't until Ty actually attempted the spell that Kit finally cracked. He couldn't let Ty go through with this. He couldn't risk it.

Why? Something inside of him pondered.

Why?

Because Kit was going to die if something happened to Ty. The spell was going to go bad and Ty was going to get hurt or killed and Kit's heart was going to be brutally ripped from his chest and it was going to be unbearable.

Because-

"I love you Ty," he breathed, hating himself instantly. "I love you."

Ty didn't respond. He didn't react, didnt even flinch. Just stared blankly at Kit.

Shame.

It was going to ruin him. It was going to swallow him whole.

Yikes that was kinda all over the place sorry.

I'm basically tagging all if my mutuals at this point. Let me know if you want me to stop tagging you. @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @irene-blacxthorn @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @anxiousbookenthusiast @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam

Also let me know if you want to be added!

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit x ty #kit herondale #twp #ty blackthorn #tw internalized homophobia #tw internalized biphobia

[rainingpouringetc]

day 7 - chocolates

“Alastair? There’s a very handsome man standing on our doorstep. I think perhaps you should invite him in.”

Alastair could practically hear Cordelia’s grin through the door. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling before rising and crossing the room. He pulled the door open, and, sure enough, his sister was beaming up at him just outside. He considered her for a moment, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. “Where’s Risa?”

“At the market with Mother.”

“Father?”

“Clave meeting. And I,” she said with a wink, “am at the park with James. Or I will be in about fifteen minutes.” Seeing his hesitation, she let out a laugh and pulled him downstairs by the arm—despite his many protests—and nudged him toward the door before slipping into the kitchen, where Alastair suspected she would sneak out the back door.

He took a moment to collect himself and breathe deeply before he opened the door. When he saw Thomas standing there, he became very glad that he had.

Thomas always had a certain presence to him, but something about the way he snapped his head up and smiled shyly, or the way he was fidgeting with his sleeve, or the thin box he was holding was suddenly overwhelming to Alastair. He thought he might’ve forgotten to breathe for a few moments.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked once he regained control of his motor functions. 

Thomas nodded quickly and stepped over the threshold, waiting politely in the antechamber for Alastair to close the door behind him and turn around. Before Alastair could get another word in, Thomas shoved the box toward him. “These are for you.”

Alastair accepted them, though a bit tentatively, and looked up to Thomas in question. Thomas simply smiled and glanced down at the box. Taking that as instruction enough, Alastair slid the lid off the box to behold its contents.

Chocolates.

More specifically, chocolates Alastair had first tasted in Paris during his travel year and fallen in love with. He’d never seen them anywhere else.

“I remembered they were your favorites,” Thomas was explaining, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did some poking around and found a little shop across the city that sells them. I’m not sure how much like the originals they are, but I thought—”

“Thank you,” Alastair said sincerely. He met Thomas’s eyes, overwhelmed again by that feeling, by that—

Love.

That’s what was coiling in his stomach and squeezing his chest.

Love, he realized, was showing up unannounced—unprompted—with his favorite chocolates.

Unsure how to voice this, he stood, staring, for several moments, opening and shutting his mouth a few times. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Thomas’s neck and burying his head in his shoulder. He felt Thomas return the gesture and drop a kiss on the top of his head, making his heart melt further.

When they pulled apart, Alastair plucked two chocolates from the box—one for him, one for Thomas. As they ate together, Alastair thought warmly, So this is what love tastes like.

i totally forgot about this until twenty minutes ago soooo i’m sorry lol. i hope you liked this! i feel like we need some fluff after the angst storm that was the thomastair letters and the musicale and... yeah, that whole mess.

°tags° @littlx-songbxrd @knifescythe @stxr-thxif @swifty-the-rake @itsdaughterofthemoon @lifewouldbebetteronmars @doitforthecarstairs @imherongraystairstrash @superboperamongerapricot @alastaircarstairsourboi @hufflepuffyskam [let me know if you want to be added!]

#february with thomastair #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #tlh fanfic #artie tries to write #thomas x alastair #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs

[rainingpouringetc]

day 3 - snowfall

Alastair was woken at an ungodly hour by the sound of pebbles striking his window. He glared at the ceiling, waiting to see if they came again. When they did, he swore under his breath and leaped out of bed, striding to the window and throwing it open. “What in God’s bloody name is—” He was cut off by a startling sight: Thomas Lightwood standing in all his magnificent glory down on the sidewalk in front of Alastair’s house.

Alastair wondered briefly how he’d managed to throw the pebbles all the way up to his window. He decided he didn’t care.

Lowering his voice, he hissed, “What’re you doing here?”

“Are you busy?” came Thomas’s reply.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit too Shakespearean to you?” Alastair asked, raising a brow. “‘O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’ and all?”

“Oh, just get down here!” Thomas called giddily, not bothering to keep quiet. It was far too early for giddiness, Alastair thought sourly.

The sky was light, but the sun hadn’t exactly risen yet, instead choosing to hang just below the horizon, obscured by the clouds that had parked themselves over London. It did absolutely nothing for the cold, which cut straight through Alastair’s nightshirt as it breezed in through the window. 

Shivering, Alastair carefully closed the window and slipped his feet into a pair of boots, not bothering with socks, and quickly exchanged his nightshirt for a shirt that was a bit more presentable. He didn’t have the time to bother with a waistcoat or jacket of any kind—in fact, he realized halfway down the stairs, he’d left his winter coat in his closet. He could go back and retrieve it, but Thomas was waiting.

“This had better be worth it,” he grumbled, stepping outside. If Thomas heard him, he didn’t acknowledge the words.

Actually, Alastair realized, it was quite unlikely that Thomas had heard him, considering that he was standing in the middle of the street and staring up at the sky, eyes squinted so little wrinkles appeared at their corners much like they did when he smiled.

Alastair felt his face warm. He didn’t mean to notice little things like that, but with Thomas it was like he couldn’t help it. It was just as how he couldn’t help but brush their knuckles together when they walked side by side, or how he couldn’t help but pause in amazement whenever he heard Thomas laugh.

“Look,” Thomas whispered. Alastair tore his gaze away from the man and did as he said, looking up at the clouded sky.

He realized it a moment before the first flake fell on his nose. Snow.

It startled a laugh out of him, which startled a laugh out of Thomas, and soon they were both laughing quietly in the middle of the street, Alastair half-dressed and shivering from cold, Thomas gigantic and still clutching a handful of pebbles. Their shoulders shook as they try to hold the laughter in until they eventually calmed, breaths uneven.

“Hell, you must be freezing,” Thomas realized suddenly. He began to remove his coat, even as Alastair protested, insisting he was fine. Alastair only stopped when Thomas came to wrap the coat around him, both of them blushing tremendously even after Thomas had taken several steps back.

The coat was far too big for Alastair, but that only made it all the better. It smelled like Thomas. Something else he hadn’t meant to notice.

“Sorry for waking you so early.” Thomas’s apology tore Alastair from his thoughts.

Alastair gave a rare smile. “Don’t be. I’m glad to see the snow.”

Looking a bit surprised, Thomas nodded and said, “Right. Well. Er. I should—”

“Would you like some breakfast?” Alastair blurted before he could regret it. Thomas hesitated before nodding again. “Come inside, then. Risa isn’t up yet, so you’ll have to do with just me and my cooking.”

“I think I’m alright with that,” Thomas joked, walking close behind him into the house. Just after they crossed into the entryway, the door shut behind them, Thomas turned Alastair towards him and frowned. He leaned forward and kissed Alastair on the forehead. When he pulled away, he looked like he was trying very hard not to blush. “You look cold, dear.”

Before Thomas could talk himself into a hole in that awkward, adorable way of his, Alastair pushed up on his tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth, whispering, “Thank you, Thomas.”

He thanked whatever God was out there for the snow.

i hope you enjoyed this! i’m sorry it’s a day late, like i said i got swamped with senior registration stuff last night and didn’t have enough time or energy to write. thank you so much for reading <3

°tags° @littlx-songbxrd @knifescythe @stxr-thxif @swifty-the-rake @itsdaughterofthemoon @lifewouldbebetteronmars @doitforthecarstairs [let me know if you want to be added!]

#currently imagining alastair being swallowed by thomas's gigantic coat and laughing #february with thomastair #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #tlh fanfic #artie tries to write #thomas x alastair #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs

[thechangeling]

Say my name or I won't survive

This is an extension of my headcannon for non binary Kit. He uses he/they pronouns. Kit comes out to Jessa as nonbinary.

Tw: mentions of transphobia/enbyphobia

A lot had happened since that conversation with Magnus. Kit usually didn't like to make a habit out of breaking down in people's arms. But it had become clear in that moment that they needed to talk to someone. That they needed to face the things they had been pushing down, trying to avoid.

Kit was currently standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Magnus had let them take some clothes that had been magically altered to fit Kit. Just so he could experiment with wearing them.

So far he hadn't made it out of his room wearing a dress or a skirt, but Kit was trying to take baby steps. Well mostly they were just scared. Scared of what Jem and Tessa would say.

Scared of what everyone would say. Like what if he was just making everything up? Or maybe he was just confused? Shadowhunters were big on tradition. Asking people to use different pronouns for Kit and stop using his full name might be a challenge for some people.

Like Jace, their brain supplied.

Kit stared at their reflection on the mirror. Magnus had started teaching them how to apply makeup and experiment with it. Kit confessed that when they were younger they used to steal eyeliner and lipstick from drug stores and put it on when Johnny was otherwise occupied. Kit was still no where near Magnus's level of talent but they were pretty good.

Kit had done simple makeup today, not looking for anything too crazy, just a little mascara to make his eyes pop and concealer to cover his light bruising from training. He hadn't wanted to look too girly during this conversation, he figured it was better to ease Tessa and Jem into this whole thing.

Also Kit didn't always feel like looking too girly, even though as Magnus constantly reminded them, clothes and makeup didnt have a gender. They liked playing around with different concepts, different styles. The societal ideas of femininity and masculinity were just that, ideas. There were no real rules, not when Kit stopped playing the game.

They stared at themself in the vanity mirror, trying to think of exactly what Kit was going to say to Jem and Tessa. Just saying the words, "I'm nonbinary" didn't seem good enough. They felt like they needed to give a proper explanation of their feelings and experiences or else they would be accused of faking it.

The urge to prove ones validly, the need to make sure people knew he was real and he wasnt crazy, it was more importent then anything. It was infuriating. Knowing that his experiences could be so easily dismissed as delusional feelings.

Not trans enough. Not cis enough. Not gay enough. Not straight enough. Kit's mere existence was a controversy on it's own. It was exhausting enough to make Kit want to abandon the whole idea of coming out again all together. Maybe it was easier just to smile and nod everytime someone misgendered them. Ignore the clenching of their stomach and the punch to the chest that came with it.

Smile and nod and be the man he was meant to be. But he had been doing that for 18 years and he couldn't survive it much longer. Kit needed to come out. People needed to acknowledge his reality and use the proper pronouns for him.

Or else Kit was going to wither away, shrivel up into something unrecognizable. A shell of their former self. They were going to die if they had to hear "Christopher" one more time.

The only time it was tolerable was when Ty said it. Kit could almost pretend that he could be the person Ty thought he was, if it would make Ty happy. He used to think that he could let himself wither away and die as long as Ty was ok. As long as Ty was safe and happy.

But that wasnt ok. That wasnt fair. Kit deserved to be safe and happy as well. One of the things they had learned with Jem and Tessa was that Kit deserved to put themself first sometimes. Kit deserved good things despite what Johnny Rook had made them believe. Kit wanted Ty to be ok. They wanted Ty in general.

But Kit needed this.

He took a deep breath and exited his room, heading downstairs to the kitchen where Jem was cooking breakfast and Tessa was trying to get Mina to settle down. Everyone looked up as soon as Kit entered the room.

"Kitty!!!" Mina screamed excitedly, waving her arms around. Tessa shushed her fondly, scolding her for yelling.

"Good morning Christopher," Jem said with kind a smile. "How did you sleep?"

Kit tried to ignore the way their stomach clenched at the sound of their birth name. Dead name, their brain supplied. They needed to tell Tessa and Jem. Kit slid into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I need to talk to you guys about something," he muttered, trying not to sound too nervous or dejected. Tessa and Jem shared a worried glance.

"Is everything alright Kit?" Tessa asked sparing Mina a glance, probably wondering if she should be removing her from this conversation. Kit shut his eyes briefly and took a breath.

"Yeah I hope so. I just need to tell you something," Kit ran their fingers through their curls. Jem and Tessa watched them, waiting patiently. Kit tried to ignore the shakiness of their breath and the way their palms.

"Here's the thing," Kit began. "You might not get it but I need to ask you to respect it ok?

He didn't wait for their responses. "I'm nonbinary. Which basically means that I'm neither male nor female. I'm something else, something seperate. I don't know I guess I just think of myself as a person who doesn't really have much of a gender," he was staring at the tabletop refusing to make eye contact. "It's just sort of like, if you think of the colour spectrum as gender, I would be a blurry watercolour. A mixture if all kinds of different things and sometimes some colours are more vibrant then others. And then sometimes it's just gray."

Kit wasnt sure if any of this was really making any sense but they knew they had to try. Jem and Tessa were both still silent. Mina was happily chomping down on her breakfast and ignoring all of them. Kit took this as a sign to continue.

"I don't exactly know why I'm like this or how I know. But maybe there are some things that you just can't explain. You just know. Like I know that the sun will set and then rise again tommorow and I know that I love you guys," Kit voice faltered at the last part. He looked up at Tessa and Jem, panicked over seeing their reactions.

But they were both just staring at Kit with huge, loving smiles on their faces. Kit's breathing slowly began to return to normal but their hands were still shaking. Tessa csne towards them slowly, grasping Kit's hand in hers.

"Baby it's ok," she cooed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's just like we told you when you first came out as bisexual, we will always love you no matter what." Jem nodded.

"I have admit this whole thing is rather fascinating," Jem chimed in with a smile. "I've never heard the term before." Kit fought the urge to remind him that two weeks ago he had never heard of playstation, but decided against it.

Mina was paying attention to them now and she was smiling at Kit. "No bany!" She cried excitedly. Kit couldn't help it, he through his head back and laughed. Mina scowled at him slightly. "Not quite Min-Min," Kit told her playfully.

"Do you have different pronouns that you would like us to use?" Tessa asked. Kit's heart fluttered at the question. They didn't actually think either Tessa or Jem would think to ask.

Kit cleared their throat. "Yeah do you think you guys could use alternating he/they pronouns for me? Like use he in one sentence and then use they?" Kit instantly felt kind of guilty for complicating things further. "I'm sorry I know that's kind of confusing."

Jem shook his head, "no it's fine! We just want you to feel comfortable." Tessa nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else?" Kit pulled Mina's hands off of their shirt. She had begun to tug and pull out of boredom.

Kit nodded. "Yeah do you think you could stop calling me Christopher please?" He hoped he didn't sound to harsh. There was something so guilt inducing about having to ask for these things. It felt like Kit was making unneccessary demands. But he wasn't. He had every right to.

Jem instantly looked sheepish. "I'm so sorry Kit," he said softly. Tessa looked guilty too. Kit shook their head.

"Its ok. You didn't know. Just don't do it anymore ok?" Kit felt significantly lighter, like a giant weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. They slid out of their stool to walk around to the other side of the kitchen island and hug both Jem and Tessa.

Kit knew it wouldn't always be this easy. He knew that this life would be complicated and difficult, but it would also be full of exploration and freedom.

Kit would always have a place he belonged.

"I am also a we."

- Sense 8

Tag list you know the drill, let me know if you want on or off: @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit herondale #twp #the wicked powers #tw slight discussion of transphobia #tw internalized enbyphobia

[rainingpouringetc]

day 5 - mirror

It wasn’t particularly unusual for Alastair to fuss with his appearance. He always felt it important to present one’s best self at every available opportunity, and this was no exception. The Herondales—Tessa and Will, that is, rather than his sister and her husband—were throwing a ball for something. Alastair had stopped keeping track. He was sure Thomas would know if he asked, but he found he didn’t particularly care one way or another.

He stood before a mirror in their flat—in the bedroom they called his, though they shared it nearly every night—and raked his gaze over himself. The third time he straightened his tie, Thomas sighed behind him. “You look fine, Alastair, you don’t have to worry so much.”

Alastair turned and glared halfheartedly at him. Thomas was sitting on the edge of the bed, hair perfectly combed, jacket perfect straight, pants perfectly smooth. Of course, Alastair would always think Thomas looked perfect, but tonight he would not be the only one.

“I’m not worried,” he claimed. “I just keep feeling like I’ve missed something.”

“Yes, dear,” Thomas said deadpan, rising to stand behind him. “That’s what we call worrying.” Alastair laughed, and Thomas even managed a smile. 

They regarded themselves in the mirror together: Thomas towered above Alastair, his face set in a peaceful smile, his outfit trim and proper; what Alastair lacked in height, he made up for with his sharp suit and jaunty smirk.

“I think,” Thomas said slowly, as if considering his words thoughtfully, “that you look positively radiant.”

Alastair elbowed him in the ribs, glaring in the mirror as Thomas held his hands up in surrender and laughed. When his expression again settled into one of fretfulness, Thomas wrapped his arms around his waist and held him tight. “You looked extraordinarily handsome, darling,” he whispered to Alastair, holding his eyes in the mirror.

There was a long moment of silence before Alastair smiled, leaning back into Thomas’s chest. “As do you.”

“Now, shall we go make our fashionably late grand entrance?” 

“Of course.” Alastair turned and rose on his toes, kissing Thomas deeply, his hands finding their way to the back of his neck and pulling him closer. When they broke apart, breathless, Alastair grinned. “Just needed to do that first.”

a bit shorter because i need to go to bed but still wanted to get this out tonight lol. as always i hope you liked <3 love you babes

°tags° @littlx-songbxrd @knifescythe @stxr-thxif @swifty-the-rake @itsdaughterofthemoon @lifewouldbebetteronmars @doitforthecarstairs @imherongraystairstrash [let me know if you want to be added!]

#not *quite* as happy with this one but i still like it so #will you. thomastair nation. take this humble offering #february with thomastair #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #tlh fanfic #artie tries to write #thomas x alastair #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs