#maybe one day all three will be nonbinary

[erigold13261]

How did DJ sub find out they were trans and NB respectively? (I like the idea that one of their students used singular they/them and that led to the egg cracking)

As good as that would have been, Nova transitioned young. I can see them figuring out they were NB sometime in college, but by the time they were a professor they were fully NB and using he/they.

When it came to realizing he was trans at the time, I think he just really liked the idea of being a guy. He probably came out to some people he thought were his friends, and they were supportive of him, but didn't take him seriously when he said not to tell his parents. There was literally no reason for him to fear his parents, but he did as he was worried all the love they had for him would disappear if he wasn't still their little space daughter or whatever they called him.

What ended up happening was one of Nova's "friends" just straight up outing Nova to their parents. I think this "friend" went completely behind their back and told their parents instead of like "accidentally" calling Nova by he/him pronouns. This friend's reasoning was that they were sick of changing pronouns in front of Nova's parents because "obviously" Sarabi and Nuru would have been supportive.

And Nova's parents were supportive, but Nova no longer trusted any of his friends as they all agreed with the one who outed Nova and were telling Nova to stop making this all about him since everything turned out fine in the end. Welp, those people were no longer Nova's friends and he ended up basically alone for the rest of his primary schooling years. Not really opening up until a few college friends wormed their way into his heart.

That is where they found out they were non-binary too. In college. I don't really know how, but I do like the idea that maybe a student started using singular they for Nova. Probably because it's hard to tell the gender of someone with a (now) flat chest and deep voice but wears skirts rarely, all while having an orb for a head with no discernible features.

So yeah, some college classmates probably used they/them for Nova a bit and he really liked that for some reason. I don't think he really found out about the nonbinary label for a few more years, but definitely did think about trying only using they/them pronouns for a very long time.

Whenever they did think they were nonbinary, they went to their parents first before telling anyone else. They thought they would be in for a long talk of either explaining or defending themself as they had no idea how their parents would react to a change to something that wasn't in the binary. To Nova, it was one thing to go from girl to guy or vice versa, but landing in the middle was something entirely different.

Well, it turned out Nuru actually had an old friend who was either nonbinary or had a nonbinary kid. Either way, Nuru was completely on board with Nova being nonbinary, even if he messed up sometimes and didn't completely understand.

Sarabi was also super supportive but had no idea what nonbinary was and asked a lot of questions, which concerned Nova for a bit until he realized she was literally just asking clarifying questions and just being curious. She was probably a little too interested in it as she probably started thinking about identifying as nonbinary too.

I don't think she has yet at all, but she's probably in that space of wondering what it would be like to be nonbinary, or another similar identity. She still identifies as cis and uses she/her pronouns as of now, but Nova and Nuru will sometimes drop in a they/them for Sarabi which makes her really happy though she never asks them to go exclusively they/them ever.

So yeah, that is how Nova found out they were transmasc and then nonbinary! And apparently also how Sarabi figured out they were questioning! :D

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

I See the Light ||

|| Poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: heavily Regina focused, only mentions poly!plastics, some swearing, hinted at smut, absolute fluff, brief mentions of stage fright & anxiety

|| Summary: Regina's auditioned for the school play; Tangled as the role of Rapunzel. She gets it, of course. Only problem is the boys auditioning for Flynn Rider don't have a spark with her. It's so bad to the point where the play director considers dropping the play, reader steps in and saves the day.

(anon request)

Requests open!

Started: April 27th

Finished: April 28th

~~~

Regina had been working hard to audition for the role of Rapunzel in the upcoming school musical play; Tangled. The girls helped her rehearse, each taking various roles. You played the role of Flynn Rider during Regina's practice sessions.

When it came to audition time, Regina got the role. Of course. Why wouldn't she? She's Regina George. Rehearsals were going well, everything was going their way. Until the night right before the big showcase.

The guy who had been casted as Flynn Rider got sick; because of course if anything could go wrong it would be the love interest not being available. None of the guys had the right chemistry with Regina. You watched from the seats as guy after guy tried playing the perfect Flynn Rider to match Regina's Rapunzel. Nobody seemed to have the right spark. Everyone was getting stressed out.

Including the casting director, who was fidgeting with his clipboard next to you. Why was it so hard? Surely there was at least one guy that could both sing and match Regina's energy.

Three more attempts pass before the casting director decides to call it quits for today and they would try again tomorrow. How they'd pull it off in time for the play, they weren't sure. At this point the director and casting director were beginning to think they should just postpone it.

From where you sat, you could see the disappointment in Regina's face. You knew how hard she had been working towards this.

You get up and join Regina on stage, she glances at you and sighs.

"The boys in this school are bunch of talentless dumbasses." Regina complained, folding her arms across her chest. You stifled a laugh.

"That's certainly one way to put it. I can't believe none of them passed." You replied, draping your arm around Regina and pulling her into your side. You would have kissed her forehead, but the problem was nobody at school knew you part of the plastic's polycule.

Yeah, they knew you were associated with them. But they didn't know anything else beyond that. You weren't ready for them to know.

Regina suddenly gets an idea and looks directly at you, finger quickly pressed your chest. You tense at the sudden movement and raise an eyebrow at her in confusion.

"What..?" You ask, not sure what got her excited all of a sudden.

"You!" Regina says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You?

"Me..? Me what?" You weren't catching what she was putting down.

Regina noticed how slow you were to catch on and groaned," you could be my Flynn Rider!"

"Uh, Regina- hold on-" You stuttered out, completely taken aback. You? As Flynn Rider? In front of the whole school? Yeah, you weren't sure your stage fright would agree with that.

Sure, you were good when you were helping Regina rehearse. But that's because it was just you and your girlfriends. That was easy. This? This was a whole different level of preforming you weren't ready for.

"Oh come on, baby! Please?" Regina gave you a soft look which made your heart melt. Sighing deeply, you thought about it. Regina George really did have you wrapped around her finger; a moment ago you wouldn't have even had to think twice about the thought of being on stage. Now? You were at least considering it. Regina continued with trying to persuade you, after all she knew all the right buttons to push with you." Maybe... there'll be something in it for you as a little thank you~" It was the way her voice suddenly switched into that lower, suggestive register that made your head spin.

You stuttered out a response, but it was too fast and jumbled for either of you to understand what you had said. Your cheeks turned red and Regina laughed.

"That's a yes." She smirked at you and snapped her head towards the casting director, who was in a deep conversation with the director.

"I got a Flynn Rider!" She shouts, getting their attention and shoving you out in front of her. You nearly stumbled but she kept a grip on your wrist.

Their eyes went to you and your whole body tensed, they shared a look.

"Might as well give them a chance. We don't have much time to find a replacement." The casting director said, the director nodded and sighed.

"Do you know the lines for 'I See the Light'?" The director asked you, you nodded. You had it memorized from how much you had helped Regina with audition preparation," Preform that scene for us."

You and Regina got into your respective positions and Regina started off the song. Her voice was beautiful, every time you heard her sing you couldn't help but be absolutely enthralled by her. A smile spread on your lips, anyone who looked at you could see that starry, dreamy eyed look on your face.

When her eyes met yours, sparks flew. The directors could tell.

You started your part of the song and they were pleasantly surprised by you, any anxiety you had had about this before just faded away as you and Regina hit the duet portion. Hands held, staring into each others eyes as if you were the only people on the whole planet.

The rest of the cast had stopped their various tasks, just watching the two of you in awe. Most people were recording the whole thing, which meant it got spread around to tiktok and other various platforms.

Examples of some of the things being said about you and Regina;

@ randomstudent69: get you a man that looks at you the way Y/N L/N looks at Regina George

@ otherbitch41: FLYNN RIDER WORSHIPS RAPUNZEL AND HERES PROOF

@ idkmanijustexist: i dont know which i would rather be

@ somebodyshere11: i know they've fucked i just cant prove it

By the end of it all, you were really fighting the urge to just kiss Regina then and there. You weren't ready to be publicly out, so you held yourself back but God you were going to kiss her when you guys got home.

Your grin was uncontrollable as you just continued to stare into her eyes, her mirroring your expression with an uncontrollable smile of her own. Something that you usually only got to see behind closed doors.

The casting director and director shared a look with each other and nodded.

"Well, that's settled. L/N is our Flynn Rider." The casting director made a note on his clipboard.

There were so many whispers going around from the cast but you just didn't care, not when Regina was looking at you the way she was.

By the time you got home, you made damn sure to make out with your amazingly beautiful girlfriend.

~~~

When it was finally showtime the next day, everything went perfectly. You and Regina were the best possible match.

Karen and Gretchen were watching from the crowd, front row seats with Cady next to them. Gretchen made sure to record everything so you guys could see just how amazing you were. She also made snippets for your guys shared tiktok account.

After it was all over, you didn't even have to come out. People knew you were in the polycule without you even having to say it. The chemistry you and Regina had on stage completely gave it away.

[dearchloe]

little learning time: homophones

All characters are 18+

Today, let's talk about homophones!

That's a big scary word, isn't it? But it's nothing to worry about! A homophone is just a word that sounds the same as another word, even though it looks different and has a different meaning. Can you think of any examples?

Here's one! We and wee are homophones!

We is a word that's used to talk about yourself and other people together! For example:

"We need to talk about your potty habits," Mummy told Lily.

You see how here, Mummy is talking about herself and Lily?

Wee is different! It's what makes your nappies all warm and soggy sometimes! Or if you're super big and your mummy trusts you not to make a mess, maybe you do your wees in the potty. For example:

"I didn't wee on the floor!" Lily argued.

You see how here, Lily is talking about wee as an action she 'didn't' do? That means it's a verb, but we haven't learnt about those yet, so don't worry! Wee can also be a noun. We did learn about those. Do you remember what they are?

That's right! They're words that name a certain thing. For example:

"Did you do a wee in the potty, Lily?" Mummy asked.

Can you remember how to pick all the nouns out of this sentence?

It's important to know about some common homophones because if you don't, you might use the wrong word, and then your sentences won't make sense! Your mummy might even think it's just baby babble!

Look:

"Wee need to talk about your potty habits," Mummy told Lily.

That doesn't make much sense, does it now?

There are some super important homophones that are really easy to get wrong! Shall we learn them?

The first set of homophones come as a three! Can you count that high?

The words are to, too, and two. Let's take them one by one.

To is a word we use to show direction and movement. We could say that Mummy went to the nursery, or Mummy gave the bottle to Lily. Can you tell what's moving in each sentence?

Too is a word that means 'more than the right amount'. We could say that Lily was too little to use the potty, or Lily's nappy was too wet to last the night. You could remember this one by thinking that it has too many Os — more than both the other homophones in the set!

Two is a number! How are your maths classes going? We could say that Mummy has two little girls, or that Lily did a number two in her Pull-Up. Pee-yew! You could remember this one by thinking that the W in the middle is like two Vs stuck together. Or is that too complicated for little brains?

You should also know the difference between there, their, and they're!

There is a word we use to talk about places! It means 'in that place', or 'at that point'. It can also be used to say that something is present. We could say that the potty is over there, or that there were lots of nappies for Lily in Mummy's bag. You can remember this because the word there contains another word that we use to talk about places. Can you spy it? The word is 'here'! Why not write out the phrase here and there a few times? I'm sure that will help you remember!

Their is a word that we use to talk about things belonging to other people! Remember when we talked about nouns? Their is a word that describes who a noun belongs to, and that means it's a type of word called an adjective! But don't worry about that too much, we'll learn about adjectives another day. We could say that Lily and Katie loved their Mummy, or that when Lily tried to be big, Mummy and Katie rolled their eyes. How do you think we can remember this one? Would you like to come up with your own rule?

A rule that helps us remember something is called a mnemonic! Can you say that word? That's ok, it's a very tricky word for little mouths! Maybe it would help if you took your dummy out?

Remember, their is a word that you use to talk about things belonging to more than one other person! You can also use it to talk about things belonging to your nonbinary friends or caretakers, if they use they/them pronouns! It's super important to be respectful of other people's identities when you talk about them.

Now let's talk about they're! See how it has an apostrophe in the middle? An apostrophe is a special mark that does lots of different jobs, but in this word, it's telling us about something called a contraction. That means that this word should have extra letters in it! Can you guess what letters?

They're is a contraction of they are! See how the a of are has been taken out, and the two words have been joined together? Because this is a phrase that gets used lots and lots, people have come up with this shorter form to make it quicker to say and write. We could say they're both getting their nappies changed, or they're going to bed early.

This one is super easy to remember! You just need to look at your sentence and decide if it would make sense to replace they're with the words they are.

Do you want to try it?

Let's take this sentence from earlier, Lily and Katie loved their Mummy. If you got a little bit confused and wrote Lily and Katie loved they're Mummy, you could use this trick! So the sentence would say Lily and Katie loved they are Mummy.

Does that make sense? No, I don't think so either! So now you know that they're isn't the homophone in this sentence!

They're is used to talk about what two or more people are, or what a nonbinary person using they/them pronouns is! If you're talking about a single person who uses he/him, she/her, or other pronouns, you have to use a different contraction. Some examples are he's and she's.

Do you know about homophones now? Are you sure? Let's find out!

Can you choose the right homophone in the following sentences?

Lily and Katie are to/too/two confident about there/their/they're potty training.

The to/too/two of them decide they don't need there/their/they're nappies any more.

They think they can make it to/too/two the potty every single time.

There/their/they're not right about that, are they?

They take there/their/they're nappies off when Mummy isn't there/their/they're.

Lily and Katie are really to/too/two little to do this, though!

There/their/they're are lots of puddles on the floor when Mummy gets home, and she's cross.

Her to/too/two little girls have pottied everywhere without there/their/they're nappies on!

She smacks there/their/they're bottoms and puts them to/too/two bed early.

It's lucky Mummy has to/too/two boobies to/too/two give her to/too/two babies there/their/they're nighttime feed faster.

How are you feeling? Do you think you picked all the right homophones? Let's see!

Q1

The first homophone here is too! Remember, it means 'more than the right amount'! How much confidence do you think is the right amount for Katie and Lily to have in their potty training?

The other homophone in this sentence is their, because it's the potty training belonging to Katie and Lily — it's theirs, even if there isn't very much of it!

Q2

The first homophone here is two. Why's that? Remember, two is a number! Can you count that high? One little girl and another little girl make two little girls! The next answer is their. The nappies definitely belong to Katie and Lily! They're not Mummy's, she's far too big! What kind of nappies do you have? Are they as adorable as you are?

Q3

There's only one answer here, and it's to! Remember, we use this one when we're talking about movement. Katie and Lily are moving to the potty — or at least, they should be. Do you go to the potty, or does the potty come to you? Or are you too little for that, and you still potty in your pants?

Q4

The answer in this sentence is they're. Look at the sentence! You could use they are instead, right?

Do you think you're right about how good your potty training is? Does your mummy agree with you? You should listen to her! Lots of little ones get overconfident if they sometimes manage to get their wees and poos in the potty, but good mummies know that potty training is a long process and little ones can't always be trusted!

Q5

This sentence is especially tricky, because it has two homophones in it that sound the same as each other! The first one is their. That's because the nappies still belong to Katie and Lily even after they take them off. When your mummy takes your soggy nappies off, they're still yours! And no one else wants them, do they? That would be yucky!

The second one is there. How do we remember this one? That's right! It has the word 'here' in it, so it talks about places! This sentence is about where Mummy is. What does your mummy do when she's not there? Does she leave you all by yourself, or do you get to play with a babysitter?

Q6

The answer here is too! That's a tricky one, because of course, Katie and Lily aren't too little — they're just the right amount of little! But they're too little for the specific situation we're talking about, aren't they? Only very big girls get to go without their nappies, and it's always up to their mummies to decide when that happens!

Q7

Did you get this answer? That's right, it's there! Remember, we can use this one to talk about things that are present. That's not like a Christmas present, though. It's a word that just means the thing exists in a certain place, like these puddles exist on Mummy's floor. But of course a present could be present! I'm not sure Mummy wants any soggy yellow presents, though — and it's not even Christmas!

Q8

There are two homophones to decide on here, but we've seen both of them before! Do you remember? The first one is two, the number of little troublemakers that Mummy has. Do you have a sister, brother, or sibling? If you do, you have to be super grown up and good at sharing your mummy!

The second one is their. We talked about how the nappies still belong to Lily and Katie even though they took them off, didn't we? That's a very naughty thing to do, remember!

Q9

This answer is their again! That's because the smacked bottoms belong to the little girls, even though they probably wish they didn't! Do you get your bottom smacked sometimes? That's ok! Learning to be good is super hard sometimes, but it's just as important as learning all about homophones, and a smacked bottom is a really good reminder, isn't it?

The second answer is to. It's a direction of travel, isn't it? Mummy is taking her little cuties upstairs and tucking them into their cot! When's your bedtime? Is it nice and early so you're wide awake for school?

Q10

This is the last question, and there are lots of homophones to find! Did you get them all? Let's see!

The first one is two again! It's another number! Mummy has one boobie for each of her two babies — isn't that lucky? Do you have to share your mummy's boobies, or do you get them all to yourself?

The second answer is to. This is a little bit different, isn't it? It's not about movement, but you can also use to to mean something like 'so that'. Do you see how that works? Here, it's lucky Mummy has two boobies, so that she can feed both her babies at once!

The third homophone is another two. Did you know that? It's easy to work out! This sentence is telling you that Mummy has the same number of boobies as babies, so it uses the same word to describe each of those things!

And finally, the last homophone is their! Did you get it? The nighttime feed is a special time that belongs to Lily and Katie, when they can cuddle up together and spend time with their Mummy as a family. Doesn't that sound nice?

Did Katie, Lily, and Mummy work together to help you learn all about homophones? Do you think you know them super well?

Why not write a little list of all the homophones you can think of, and then try writing some sentences using them? Make sure to get them the right way round!

[scriblubed-bonnibel]

Super Blind

Close friends to lovers | Jordan Li x (gn)reader

Reader will use they/them pronouns as well (lets go nonbinaries woooh <3) Just some oneshot I’ve been brain rotting about while scrolling through tumblr.

Summary: Jordan and y/n have been flirting every now and then but can’t seem to confess. One day they just… do.

Context: reader has powers that affect their emotions. Be it taking them from others, making them feel emotions, just reading their emotions, and sometimes they can even exude their emotions; having others feel it when closer to the reader.

Warnings: bad language, cute moments, kissing

If you aren’t ok with the whole “switching between masc and fem” thing then feel free to click off (tho i doubt it cause ure reading a Jordan Li fic so yeah)

—————————————————————————

“Emma I don’t know anymore! Jordan’s probably high fucking some- fucking dude! And I’m here lonely-“ “hey!” Emma looks at me offended, “and ranting to my best friend about my crush for like what- years now!” Emma stands up and puts her hands on my shoulders, “hey, if it’s worth anything. JORDAN TOTALLY FUCKING LIKES YOU YOU IDIOT.” She shakes me back and forth.

“You’re just saying that” I brush her off and flop on my bed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She looks at me dumbfounded and as if I said the stupidest thing ever. “They literally gaze at you. And did you not notice the fact that uhhh you have flowers on your desk from them!” She gestures to the small flower arrangement on my desk.

“Big whoop. They got those flowers for me after I recovered from that stupid slip.” I rolled my eyes at her. “This-“ Emma trails off in frustration and face palms. “Listen, I’m just saying, Jordan, one of the top students, most probably maybe possibly has a crush on you maybe wants to even fuck you!” I laugh at her and just pull the covers over myself. “I doubt it! Now leave cause I’m pretty sure you’re late for one of your classes.”

“OH SHI-“ she’s cut off by the sound of a door slamming shut. “Loser” I laugh and close my eyes under the blanket, trying to just forget about Jordan… Jordan… Jordan… and.. y/n. Y/n and Jordan. A dreamy sigh escapes my lips as I swoon once more. Without even realizing, sleep takes over me.

Gentle knocks from my door wakes me up. “Emma for the last time my door is always open!!” I yell. “You lock your door once when she wants to visit and she just forgets it’s always open..” I grumble. The door opens slowly. “Y/n..?” Jordan’s voice calls out.

wait

Jordan’s. Voice? Their. Voice? Panic shoots through me as I sit up in distress. “Jordan-“ i cough quickly to try to sound less panicked, “uh- ahem Jordan! Hey, hi! DONT COME IN- I’m- my room is a mess-“ I look around and see the door still cracked a little bit. “Not- not looking! Just wanted you to know it’s me!” They say, laughing softly… I sigh again… their laugh- FIX YOUR ROOM AND YOURSELF GET IT TOGETHER.

I run to the full body mirror and fix myself up. Taming my bedhead, adjusting my sleeping shirt and shorts, making sure I look normal but also… maybe a tiny little bit cute. I fix up the random clutter on the floor and spray a little bit of cologne everywhere.

I get to the door and put my hand on my heart to sorta calm down. Okay… one.. two.. three and-

There is no denying how stupidly in love I looked the moment I opened the door to see them in their feminine. Eyes softened, lips in a content smile, and sighing dreamily. “Hi~” I breathed out, still swooning. They dont help my case at all when they smirk and look at me in a similar manner. “Hi…” they trail off, blinking a few times before getting both of us out of our trance.

“Sorry for uhh the whole emotion wafting off of me. Still learning how to control it.” I laugh awkwardly. They wave their hand in a ‘nah dont worry’ motion, “Y/n you know I dont mind that at all. We’re all learning.” We both smile briefly, “so, whatcha doing here?” I open the door wider and sit on my bed. They enter, closing the door behind them, and sit next to me. “I uhh honestly…” I wasn’t looking at them, too busy fiddling with my hands, but I heard them change into their masculine form. “I was just around.. and wanted to hang with you…” ‘hang out.. with me?’ I thought before I looked at them.

They were.. already looking at me. A blush slowly crept up on my face as I internally panicked, replying to cover up my distress. “Uhh yeah sure, we could invite Cate for a girls time, or maybe have Emma ditch for I dont know-” I get cut off “why not just us?” They ask, shrugging nonchalantly. “Just us?” I repeat. “Y’know… just Y/n and Jordan. Just us.” Their gaze is turned away for some reason.. “I MEAN- if you don’t want to then yeah of course Kate could come arou-” they began to ramble but I touch their hand gently, focusing on calming their emotions down.

“I would like that” I smile. “Yeah..? Like a date right that’s what I’m trying to invite you to” they clarify, their emotions wafting to me… infatuation, swooning, happiness… ‘they’re happy…’. I smile and nod happily.

They stand up and offer their hand, then an uncertainty surfaces on their face. “Uhm… do you want feminine or masculine..?” They ask still in their masculine form. “Are you shitting me? How many times do I have to say this. Anything is fine as long as it’s what you want and what you feel like.” I smile up at them and stand from the bed to give them a quick hug. I hear them changing into their feminine form/nothing change as they decide to remain in their masculine form and push them to face away from me. I smile, feeling more comfortable with them again, dropping the whole “in love with you” deal and being my authentic self.

“Now don’t fucking peak, lemme just change clothes.” I said as I looked at my closet. “Where’re we going again?”

Jordan’s POV

‘I cannot fucking believe they said yes- I mean I know Kate said they liked me but I was still unsure-‘ “Jordan!!! Helloooo?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Y/n shakes me from behind. “Earth to Jordannn, where are you taking meeeeee.” I chuckle at their antics, “just dress casual, we aren’t going to the fucking gala or something.” I laugh and I hear shuffling behind me. Tempted… I turn slowly- “not a fucking peep Jordan Li.” They say sternly. I laugh and put my hands up in defense “alright alright.”

Moments pass and I feel two taps on my shoulder. I turn and smile at them. Wearing such comfy yet cute clothes to our first date. Our first date. Damn.

Reader’s POV

Walking around with Jordan Li was normal. We would do this from time to time whenever stress got to us. But this was different. This was a fucking date. Like, hand brushing against each other, got coffee or tea kinda fucking date.

We decided to walk around campus, much to the distaste of Jordan. “You are sooo fucking lucky I put up with your goody-two-shoes behavior” they tell me, squinting playfully at me. “I am very lucky thank you.” I respond to spite them. They smile and shake their head.

We walk in comforting silence. It’s so strange how the context of a walk can change the whole way it feels. Normally we would just walk casually and we would talk about anything and everything. Shoving each other, being just friends. But now… it feels so… pure? I guess… like puppy love. Jordan taking glances at me and I would do the same. Whenever we meet eyes they’d chuckle as I look away shyly. They’re just… too sweet.

“Are you enjoying?”

I look up in surprise, not realizing we had stopped walking. “Yeah of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, worried I had done something wrong. “Just making sure, that’s all. Cause I wouldn’t want to be the only one enjoying our date” they smile at me sweetly. A worry forms in my stomach when my brain starts to go on hyperdrive. They aren’t… joking about this right…? My walls start building as I worry that Jordan was just put up to this for a stupid fucking prank.

Jordan takes my hand in worry, shifting to their masculine form. A tendency they did when they were worried about me. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I say something?” I pull my hand back slowly. “You aren’t.. doing this for a dare right.. cause- cause I know I’m not that good at hiding my crushes but if this was a fucking joke I swear-” I’m suddenly silenced as they pull me in close for a hug. “I know Y/n. If it’s a joke, you swear you’ll make me miserable for the rest of my life.” Their chest rumbles as they chuckle. “It’s not a joke… the only thing I had help with was ask Cate to make me go to your dorm and ask you out blatantly.”

I step back a little, “you what?” I laugh incredulously. “Listen! I keep hearing rumors that you like me but I never saw it! Cate always told me that I was Super-”

“Blind?” I finish their sentence. “Yeah, Emma told me the same thing” I shake my head and laugh in disbelief. “So… you do like me?” They ask, as they lift my chin to look into their eyes. My breath hitches and I nod quietly. “Good.. cause.. I like you too… maybe.. even more than like.” They smile and shift back to their feminine form, something they did.. when they felt comfortable with me.

Their hand on my chin slowly travelled to my cheek and soothingly rubbed it with their thumb. The blush from earlier creeps up again and I silently plead that Jordan can’t feel my face slowly heat up. They chuckle, “I never realized how cute you looked whenever you blush…” the warmth blooms past my cheeks and into my chest as the butterflies flutter more intensely. “Y/n..?” Jordan asks softly, their eyes not even trying to hide the fact that they’re looking at my lips. “Yes..?” I reply just as softly.

“Can I.. kiss you?” I stop functioning the moment they stop talking. Unable to speak I do one slow and obvious nod to say yes. “Thank you” they smile and lean in lips barely touching, as if telling me that if I wanted to back out now, now is the time. But fuck that I’m getting that kiss.

I smile and kiss them deeply, tiptoeing a little bit to wrap my arms around their neck. The smile on our lips palpable and our emotions mixing with one another as pure happiness exudes from the both of us.

We part after a moment, smiling widely. They chuckle softly. “What’s so funny? Was my breath bad- did I hit your teeth? What is it what?!” I panicked.

“Nothing nothing!” They laugh, “Just… you’re so cute… I couldn’t stop feeling your butterflies wafting off of you ever since we started the date. And well.. every time you see me.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!” I gasped and hit them playfully, they shift to their masculine form and held my hands together in front of me. “I didn’t tell you because…how could I tell the cutest person in the world,” they lean in and kiss me gently once more and whisper, “that even their emotions are cute?”

This person will be the end of me… and I love it.

—————————————————————————

EEEE I’m so glad I got to finish this cksndjsz my brain cannot for the love of me stop thinking about Jordan. THEY’RE JUST SO CISJDJSZJ C U T E.

Anyways, feel free to give comments on how I can improve ! And ofc I hope you enjoyed ♡

Edit: holy f u c k- Im v surprised this is getting 300 notes 😭 im very glad people are enjoying !! College is just biting my ass but I’m writing other fics from other fandoms!

Take care always!

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! who’s that girl?

Y/N L/N is a nobody. well, maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s nothing compared to the other words the media uses to describe you. washed up, irrelevant, talentless—any cruel word or insult has or will be thrown your way. but 10 years in the game has forced you to grow thick skin, even if the supposed quality of your music doesn’t suit it. so why is it that today, of all the days, you awake to the worst news imaginable—worse than all the name-calling and jeers?

or, you open twitter. it doesn’t go well.

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this millionaire’s daughter influencer is known for buying many of her followers across all platforms. however, brands and colleagues ignore it because of the fat check lining her pockets.

## this one-of-a-duo A-list model is having business disputes with his other half and sibling. apparently, he wants more creative control over their projects despite having been in the industry for less time. it’s so serious that legal litigation is in the works. [revealed: lev haiba, alisa haiba]

## the not-so-indie band’s newest album is rumored to be about a controversial figure in the industry. this figure has already produced an album about the lead singer years ago, however it failed to garner any publicity.

## off-the-charts wannabe pop star is postponing her next album because her team knows her career is over if she doesn’t chart well. after nearly a decade in the industry and without a single long-lasting, cultural hit, she’s better off waiting tables than writing music. [revealed: Y/N L/N]

gracetheestallion. the haiba twins fighting ?? i can’t believe, like actually

colormeshocked. if y/n doesn’t clutch up rq then i’m gonna be so sad for her — underdawg. honestly, it’s just not fair how she’s treated by the industry — garagoesgaga. it’s “unfair”? she literally only makes trash songs and hooks up with men in relationships, girl bye — underdawg. your misogyny is showing, ugly <3 — garagoesgaga. wowwwww insults, so mature. average iq of a y/n fan

read more…

NOTES! —

Two posts in one day? It's more likely than you think! Anyways, today's fundraiser is for the family and sons of Reyna and Javier. Reyna and Javier lost their lives in a fatal crash, leaving their three sons without parents. Of their sons, one of them was dependent on their parents as he has been wheelchair bound all his life. In this brief period of time, he has lost both his parents and his primary caregivers. The entire family is feeling the financial strain of the sudden loss, so every help counts. Please consider donating here on GoFundMe or copy the link and share it online!

If you're new here, or even if you're not since I'm just starting to post again, I strive to bring attention to different fundraisers in all my posts. I primarily focus on sharing the stories of individuals in dire need, such as refugees in Gaza or those experiencing sudden homelessness, however there is no comparison between struggles, grief, and loss here! So I also take the time to share the stories of families such as Reyna and Javier's, and would deeply appreciate it if you could show them some much needed love as well.

I won't say too much, but as someone who has had the cards stacked against them (being a poc, nonbinary, queer, a religious minority, etc.) and has experienced my own share of loss, I can say that while the pain doesn't feel the same, the knife digs itself into you either way. My family was privileged enough to afford a funeral for my grandfather, who recently passed, but with many other family members getting older in age and being taken by the devil that is cancer, it does make me nervous as to how we will make it through. Regardless, I just hope that my plea and the stories I share will implore you to help others—not out of moral or societal obligation or to save face, but out of humanity and compassion <3

SEVEN EVIL EXES + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[thedecoy-if]

It occurs to you just then, the true depth of your helplessness: you've been taken to another universe, alone with no way home, you're stuck prisoner, your phone has no signal...and they don't even know what Wi-Fi is. Yeah. You're screwed.

DEMO (3/04/2023) ♔ FORUM POST ♔ ARTBREEDERS

♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔

Life, for the most part, has been all-around uneventful. You work in Manhattan at a convenience store under a sleazy boss in order to scrape by and support your struggling family. Your dad is absent, your mom is too tired to parent, one brother is getting arrested while the other has detached himself from the life he once had. Still, while your days as a twenty-something employee are mundane, at least they're predictable.

Meanwhile, in another realm, the magical dark world of Eterna is in ruin. A war against an entity and his bloodthirsty creatures is brewing, and after the powerful royal family is viciously murdered and the only living child--and now rightful owner of the throne--goes missing, that evil is one step closer to winning.

But of course, that's not your problem. That's in a whole other universe, one you don't even know exists. Your biggest worry is whether you'll be able to take on a double shift tomorrow. Right?

Wrong.

Turns out the missing heir is your doppelganger. In a desperate attempt to save face and stop from losing a war before it even starts, you're kidnapped and taken to Eterna in order to play the part of the monarch, all while working behind the (bloody) scenes to find the true heir and get home.

Stuck in a world of magic and fantasy you've only ever seen in movies, an entire country--and an impending war-- is now dependent on how well you can act.

No pressure.

The Decoy is rated 18+ for dark themes, violence, and explicit content.

FEATURES

Customize your MC from gender identity, pronouns, personality, and appearance.

Choose whether to adapt to this new world or reject it, whether to be defiant or not. Pick what kind of monarch you'll lead as and take full advantage of your new royal identity.

Build yourself up in this new world, focus on honing combat or knowledge of the realm, choose a preferred choice of weapon and more.

Romance one of eight ROs (two male, two female, one nonbinary, three gender selectable) with a variety of backgrounds and magical types. Some more dangerous than others.

Maybe teach your new makeshift gang what television is? Hopefully find some signal for your phone? (not going to happen).

CHARACTERS + ROs

SERIDA/SOREN/SAHAR CRETILLON (m/f/nb , identity dependent on player choice ): the successor to the throne and only living person left in the Cretillon line, S has gone missing not long after the slaughter that murdered their entire family. People have been waiting for them to be coronated in order to plan their next move, but they're now gone without a trace and without them and the power that binds them together, Eterna is vulnerable. That's where you come in.

AZRIEL DAMARIS [RO] (m, he/him): once S's primary royal guard, Azriel has been promoted as the general of the Eternan army and head of the operation to save S. Stiff, serious, and severe, Azriel is tasked with being guard and guiding you through the world of politics and royalty. Unfortunately, Azriel doesn't want you here and he doesn't do much to hide it.

NAMARA AL-LUVEN: [RO] (f, she/her) Azriel's second, Namara is a fierce warrior and loyal to the cause. She's quite difficult to read, distant considering who you are.

DRENWIN SILVA: [RO](m, he/him): a skilled Mage and jester, Drenwin works alongside the Eternan army and puts his skills to work. He seems to be the most approachable of the bunch, which isn't saying much.

VALE: [RO](nb, they/them) the boisterous, flirtatious and arrogant mercenary turned pirate captain of The Lady Mystica. Vale exists simply to make and spend as much coin as possible while engaging in their harem and abundance of bad habits.

CERIS BESILLE [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him, they/them): a priest-in-training, Ceris is fiercely devoted to their beliefs. Reserved and easily scandalized, they haven't left their quarters in the church since they were twelve, contributing to their lack of outside experience and rather insular outlook on the world.

TALEEA FAREWYN [RO] - (she/her) A half-fae Healer, Taleea follows alongside you as your right hand. She seems to be the only one empathetic to your circumstances, but it's hard to trust anyone in this world, especially someone who is so keen on being...nice.

ARWEN/ARYA VALARIN: [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him): A Valarin is S's childhood friend and their arranged betrothed. A has been S's other half since they were kids, which means you need to be extra careful around them. They have no idea you're not S and judging from your orders, it's better they never find out.

????? [RO?] (gender selectable) -- They are actively hunting you.

[love-and-monsters]

The Fallen Angel

GN human X nonbinary angel (uses they/its pronouns), 15,020 words.

(Apologies for how long I've been away, a lot has been happening. But here is the story at long last! At very long last. I have written, unfortunately, a fucking novella. Please let me know what you think, I put my heart into this bitch.)

There is an angel trapped in the basement of the church. You are determined to free it.

There was an angel trapped in the basement of the church. You could hear it singing when you cleaned the great brass candles and the stained glass windows. It sang during the services, too, but the song just reverberated behind the choir or the preaching, too subtle to be truly noticed. It was only in the afternoons, when the sunlight sent a colored glow across the floor and your body sweated and shook with fatigue, that the song grew strong enough for you to really hear what it was.

Angel song is not like birdsong, nor it is it like the song of a person. It is almost like the sound of a choir, if the choir was like a pipe organ or the wind passing through a cave. The noise settled in your bones and lungs. Sometimes, you felt yourself humming along, like just the presence of the sound was forcing the notes from your body.

You cleaned the church every three days, more or less- you didn’t clean at all on Sundays, but you did attend. So did the rest of the town. Had it gotten more crowded since the song started? Maybe- the church’s attendance was already high, and the faith strong. The angel would not have come otherwise.

You knew that the angel was trapped. You weren’t a fool- the basement door was chained and sealed, and the singing was louder the closer you get. No free angel would suffer being locked away like this. And then there was its singing. Usually, it just made your bone tremble and compelled you to sing along with it. On Sundays, its song amplified the worship, making your brain tingle with the divine. But sometimes, more frequently these days, the song struck you with such profound sadness, that you found yourself on your knees, face wet with tears.

It was over a month of the singing and the knowledge that something divine rested beneath your feet before you considered doing something about it.

In fairness: you were not qualified to interact with an angel, much less rescue one. You were not a priest, not a spiritual practitioner. A priest was technically your boss, though you cleaned more buildings in town than the church. If he had trapped the angel, there must be a reason.

But the angel’s song grew more sorrowed and more desperate, until you woke at night, nowhere near the angel’s song, with a hum vibrating in your chest and tears on your cheeks. And you came to the conclusion that, no matter what reason the priest has, the angel did not deserve this.

So you called a spiritual practitioner. As much as you may have wanted to help, you had no idea how. Better to leave such things to professionals.

You had hoped the practitioner would arrive at the church, sense the angel immediately, and free them. But there wass no fuss from the church, and no angel emerged. The practitioner left town before the sun set that day.

Three more practitioners and a priest entered the town over the next two weeks. None of them freed the angel. Your bewilderment grew with each failure. Were they not noticing it? Were they being turned away? Bribed?

The sixth person, a priest, was the one you followed. You tailed him to the church, and continued following him twenty minutes later, when he emerged. Once he had made it past the edges of the town, you ambushed him.

It wasn’t much of an ambush, really. You just stepped out onto the path in front of him and demanded he tell you what was going on. He was clearly weirded out, but once you said that you were the person who called him, he was a bit more willing to talk.

You asked him why he didn’t do anything to free the angel. He stareed at you, eyes wide. Then he spoke, quiet and almost frightened. “What that thing is should not be freed. It is best for everyone if it stays down there.”

Once he told you that, he dismissed himself, and hurried away. You stared after him. Then you returned home.

The creature in the basement could not be anything but an angel. It could have been one of the infernal, but the infernal don’t sing. Scream and howl and beg, but they do not sing. And no infernal creature would sit through the services that come every Sunday. People would avoid the church, rather than flocking to it in droves. And yet, if the priest had seen an angel, you found it hard to believe he wouldn’t have tried to release it. He certainly wouldn’t have told you it was a thing.

The next time you went to the church, the singing was low and tremulous. It reminded you of someone trying to sing through tears. Again and again, you found yourself at the basement door. When you placed your hand on it, the dark metal was warm, like it had been resting under a sunbeam.

You could not bring yourself to leave, even an hour after your work was done. The sadness of the song radiated around you and ever since you spoke to the priest, you were terribly curious. Perhaps that was a cruel thing, to be just as compelled by curiosity as compassion. But you were. If it had been just compassion, maybe you could have stood aside and let someone else do it. But it was curiosity as well, and you needed to do it yourself because you needed to know.

While you had access to most of the keys in your line of work, you didn’t have access to the ones that unlocked the chains and the door. Even after some snooping, you couldn’t find them, so you resorted to attempting to pick the locks. It was something you learned in your youth, mostly since you could never keep track of your house keys. The padlock was easy enough to undo. The door took more time, but still under five minutes.

The door itself was more of a barrier than the locks were. It was heavy enough that you wondered if it was even designed for only one person to open. But with enough effort, you managed to open it enough for you to squeeze through.

It wasn’t dark. Or, rather, it was dark, but it wasn’t as dark as it should have been. There were no windows in the basement and you had no light, so you shouldn’t have been able to see anything. Certainly not the gentle glow of what looked like sunlight at the bottom of the cool stone steps in front of you.

It wasn’t cold, either, you reflected as you headed down the steps. It should have been, if not dank, at least a little chilly. But the light was as warm as a sunbeam. You headed toward it, keeping your steps as light as possible. Surely whatever was down here had heard the door open and knew someone was approaching, but you tried to keep as quiet as possible regardless. It made you feel better.

The stairs ended at a doorway that opened into a room. It was clearly intended for storage of some kind, as most basements are. And it was still storing something. Because most of the room was occupied by a-

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? What was that? Your first instinct was person, but people are not usually so large that, even on their knees, they cannot straighten their back without hitting their head on the ceiling. Their body filled most of the room. You could sit in their hand. And, of course, they were the source of the light. You couldn’t look at their center, since it was so bright as to be blinding, but even their extremities glowed like lamps. You had to tilt you head back to look into their face and you saw… nothing. Their head was human-shaped, but they had no hair, no face. It was almost frightening, the blankness there, but your attention was drawn to something else only a moment later.

Angels have halos. This one was no exception. A golden ring, elaborate in design, hovered behind their head. But it was not a simple, clean circle. It was broken. The metal was (or something that looked like metal) twisted and splintered and dented. The entire thing was rent apart, golden liquid spilling from the broken bits. It looked like something grabbed it and twisted until the halo split.

The song radiated through you then. And, for the first time, it occurred to you that this was not song. It just sounded like it. The angel was crying.

Everyone heard tales of fallen angels. Cast out for crimes or sin, sent to Earth. Crying to return. They were creatures to fear. An angel is dangerous. An angel that has been sent away and maddened with grief and loss is only more so.

You moved toward them, trying to see where they were chained to the wall. Your body moved almost on its own, and you wondered if the song was somehow compelling you to do so. It didn’t matter, though. You’d be doing this anyway.

There weren’t chains holding it in place. That was actually a relief. They would have been huge and you weren’t sure how to handle chains you couldn’t move. Instead, the angel seemed to be held in place by writings across the ground, walls, and ceiling. From a distance, they looked like just worn stone, but up close, you could see the writing. It took you some time to figure out what they were. Bible verses, in Latin and English. They seemed completely random. You assumed they were holding the angel here, since you couldn’t find anything else that seemed to be doing so. But this wass all over your head. Presumably there was a way to undo this, but you didn’t know what. It would be weeks of work to destroy all the writing here.

After taking some time to despair and scream in frustration, you went over to a wall and, by the light of the angel, started to read. It was a bit difficult, since there was no way to read without the angel being behind you, and your shadow appearing on the wall, but if you angled your head, you could make out the words.

Some of the verses were familiar to you. A few of them were about angels. Some of them were about God’s power or smiting the unjust. Some of them seemed completely unrelated. Maybe there was a reason that you just weren’t getting. But as you continued, you noted a pattern. They repeated.

It was a hard repeat to catch- there wasn’t a set pattern where it was the same order every repeat. But after going back and forth and squinting in the low light for long enough that you developed quite the headache, you found that the phrases were repeating. Every verse was repeated once per repeated section. A vague idea came to your head. It wasn’t a plan you were sure would work, but it was the only idea you had.

You slipped back upstairs and rummaged in the tool closet. Normally, you only bothered with the cleaning supplies, but there were hammers and nails there, for general repairs. You took a hammer and a screwdriver and brought them back down to the basement.

At the beginning of each repeat, you took the screwdriver and, using it as almost a makeshift chisel, hammered it into the wall until the rock chipped away. The words weren’t carved very deeply, so it wasn’t terribly hard to flake them off. Well, it wasn’t hard relatively speaking. It was still hard work to chisel anything at all, and your arms were trembling and aching in short order.

It was slow going. Fortunately, the repeats were long, so you didn’t need to chisel all that often, but it was hard to find the proper start, and there was a lot of small writing. Your back ached from stooping to get the stuff on the floor.

You had the inclination that you were doing something right, though. The angel had nearly ignored you before, as you’d walked around its cage. But now, as you chiseled at the walks, it turned its head toward you, face still blank, though you could tell it was watching. Maybe it was just curious, but you thought maybe it could sense something changing.

About midway through your second wall, the air started to take on a different… feel. Like it was getting thicker, almost humid, with a smell like before a storm. You took more breaks, almost dropping your hammer and chisel a few times. Your fingers weakened. You started smashing randomly with the hammer, though it didn’t seem to have a great effect. The angel watched, or did something similar, with its massive, blank face.

By the third wall, the feeling was suffocating. Whether it was from the unbinding of the angel itself, or the bindings themselves trying to fight back, it was impossible to say. You just staggered from one repeat to the next, barely able to stand. How were you going to get the writing on the ceiling? You couldn’t risk stopping and returning, in case someone discovered your work the next day, but you also could not risk getting up on a ladder- not when it felt like the floor was shifting and bucking under your feet.

Please, you thought as you brought your hammer down onto your makeshift chisel. Please be enough. Please be the last. You weren’t sure who you were begging to, pleading to, but as you brought your hammer down one last time-

Light. There was light and then there was nothing. You were on your back on the ground, though it didn’t hurt. Which was strange. If you’d fallen over, you expected your head to hurt where it had hit the ground. You blinked a couple times. The room was less bright than it had been. There were a few scraps of light that seemed to be drifting about like floating candle flames, but they were fading and taking the light with them.

You rolled over and looked toward the angel. It was no longer there. Or, to be more specific, the enormous, glowing, faceless creature was gone. Sitting in the center of the room, blinking in apparent confusion was… a person.

No, the person was the angel. You were sure of it, since the person had wings. Large, powerful-looking wings with scruffy brown feathers. Little wings of a lighter color were set where their ears should be. But they also did not look like the images of angels you’d seen in books or in stained glass. Those angels were always inhuman looking, with perfect, sculpted bodies and porcelain skin. This angel was a little pudgy, with little pockmarks and imperfections in its skin. Its feathers were ruffled and sticking out, and its long hair was ruffled. It blinked at you with drooping, tired-looking eyes.

“Ah…” Looking at the angel, you realized you hadn’t paused to come up with an exit plan for once the angel was free. You’d been more focused on just breaking the cage. There had been some vague idea in the back of your head, of the angel realizing it was free and busting its way out of the church through the ceiling. Though perhaps it was good that hadn’t ended up happening, since that would probably leave you crushed by rubble. You certainly hadn’t expected the angel to suddenly poof down into a nearly human form.

They seemed confused. They swayed in place, staring around the room like they’d never seen it before. Or, never seen it from that angle before, at least. They shifted their wings a couple times, stretching them out only the tiniest amount before trying to get to their feet. Despite looking rather unsteady, they stood with only a little stumbling and stayed on their feet. They glanced around the room one more time, then looked back at you.

They were tall. Bigger than most people you’d seen. And their wings only added to their bulk. They would have cut an intimidating figure, if it wasn’t for the out-of-it look on their face.

This was a new problem. You’d figured the angel would be out of your hair once you freed it. But this angel looked rather helpless. You got the impression that, if you left it there, it would stand there until the priests came back in the morning and locked it away again. Or killed it. It looked more killable in this form.

Leaving it was considered and discarded. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave them here if they could remember your face and maybe reveal your identity if asked. And even if they couldn’t, you’d already put so much effort into freeing them. It seemed like a waste to ditch them at the last moment.

Not to mention, the idea of leaving them standing there, shivering slightly in the chill of the basement and blinking at you with confused, doe-like eyes made your chest ache.

You approached the angel. It locked its eyes on you, watching as you came closer. Not necessarily cautious- more like curious as to what you were going to do next. You reached out a cautious hand and took the angel’s.

They jolted, sucking in a breath the second your fingers came in contact. You froze. All of their feathers bristled and they seemed to shudder. For a moment, you thought you could faintly hear their song, but it faded so quickly that it may have been your imagination.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, the same tone you used to coax the church cats out of hiding places. “We need to go, though.” You tugged on their arm. Despite their size, they moved easily. You lead them up the stairs and into the church proper.

They followed you to the back door of the church. It was late, and the place was deserted, which was a relief. The angel was both winged and very naked, which would be hard to explain to anyone.

Getting them to your house was tense. The angel was conspicuous, so you had to avoid areas with people. Fortunately, it was late, so the cover of night and the lack of people on the street was enormously helpful. The angel was also quite easy to tug along, despite their size. You made it to the backdoor of your home with no real struggle, though you came very close to shoving the angel into a bush when a person stumbled across your path in your neighborhood. To your relief, they were very drunk and they seemed to barely notice your presence.

The moment you were within your house, you collapsed. The angel shuffled next to you, flexing their wings and glancing around. They didn’t seem anything more than mildly interested in their surroundings. After a moment, they sat down next to you.

You could have stayed on the ground all night, but after thirty minutes, you decided that it probably wasn’t good to your guest to let them stay on the ground all night. It was late and you could decide what to do with them in the morning, but now, you were both going to get some rest.

“Come on,” you grumbled, tugging at their arm. The angel allowed itself to be led into your small bedroom, where you encountered your first problem. The bed was not sized for an angel. Again, it was a normal bed. Not an unusually small one. But the angel was, at minimum, six and a half feet tall and carrying a set of bulky wings. Perhaps, if you shuffled some furniture around, you could have made it work, but it was very late and you were very tired. So you tugged all the bedsheets you had into the room and dumped them on the floor. The angel watched you the entire time, completely impassive.

Once you were done, you had to drag the angel over and push them into the makeshift bed. They blinked up at you from the pile. “Lie down,” you said, pushing on their shoulders. They allowed it, bowing under your touch with as much compliance as ever. “Go to sleep.”

You didn’t wait to see if they followed that order. Instead, you stumbled to your own bed, tugged the blanket you had over yourself, and closed your eyes.

Morning came entirely too early. Even when you were bone tired, your body clock woke you up at the same time every day. It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours of sleep, and probably less. You blinked tiredly for like thirty seconds before rolling over and catching sight of the angel.

It was still laying down in the pile of blankets. Its eyes were on you, blinking heavily every so often. You stared back at it. “I suppose you’re going to be here for a while,” you said. The angel just stared.

With little else to do, you got out of bed and headed into the kitchen. Your head ached, probably from lack of sleep, and also stress. It had been easy to not think about the consequences when you were freeing the angel, but now, well. The priest was going to want to know where his angel went, and you had a winged person in your house, as well as being the last person in the church that night. It wouldn’t be hard to put the pieces together.

You got into the kitchen and became aware of a second set of footsteps trailing after yours. You stopped and the footsteps behind you stopped as well. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it- the angel was following you. They gazed back at you as you stared at them. They were swaying a little on their feet, wings twitching like that helped them stay upright.

“I suppose you want breakfast,” you said. The angel blinked. It was the only acknowledgement they gave you. “Well, I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t feed you, I guess.”

At your instruction (physical instruction- it was easier to move the angel around than it was to try and give them verbal commands) the angel sat down at your tiny table. There wasn’t much room for more than one person, but you could make it work. Breakfast was never a particularly impressive affair for you, but if you had an angel over, you decided to go through the effort of actually heating up some biscuits and cooking some eggs and even a couple thin strips of bacon.

You set the plate in front of the angel. They stared down at the meal. Their gaze wasn’t necessarily dismissive. It just also reminded you of a dog examining a new object. Not a person getting a good meal.

“Do you know how to eat?” you asked after a few moments. If it had just become a mortal, than perhaps it wasn’t sure precisely how eating worked? You demonstrated a few times, slicing a sliver off your egg and placing it in your mouth before chewing with exaggerated deliberateness. The angel took it in, but still made no moves on its own breakfast. “Do you need help?” you asked, a bit irritated. You sawed off a piece of biscuit, dipped it in the egg and speared a little bit of bacon before holding it to the angel’s mouth. It recoiled when the fork nearly touched its lips.

A few more attempts at convincing it to eat were unsuccessful and you backed off, confused. Perhaps the angel didn’t need to eat after all, or wasn’t able. You had no idea what angels needed.

Now that you had eaten, you were starting to feel more ready to tackle the current issues. You had work. Not at the church, thankfully, but you still needed to leave. And as reluctant as you were to leave the angel alone in your house, you couldn’t think of anything else to do. Staying home would be incredibly suspicious. You needed to make it look like everything was normal.

As exhausted as you were, you dragged your clothes on and gathered your supplies. The angel watched you. They were still completely naked, though you were getting used to it at this point. “Are you going to put some clothes on?” you asked. The angel stared. “Never mind.” It wasn’t like it was going to fit in any of your clothes. It was too tall. “I’m going to be leaving for a while. I’ll be back as soon as I can, all right? Stay here. Don’t go outside.” You felt a little bad, telling the angel that had spent the past however long trapped in a single room that it couldn’t go outside, but that was a bad idea. Maybe later, you could bring them outside.

“Stay here,” you said, feeling a little like you were talking to a dog. The angel just stared at you. “I’m trusting you.”             You left your home and took a few paces down the street, glancing over your shoulder all the while. The door didn’t open again, and you kept looking until your house had vanished around a corner, and even a little after that.

To your immense relief, the angel never followed. That didn’t stop you from being jumpy as you cleaned, though. Every time a person approached you, there was a moment of panic, either that someone had found a strange, winged person wandering the street or that the priests at the church were going to drag you in for questioning. But neither ever happened. You managed to finish up early (by cutting a few corners) and hurried home.

The angel was… exactly where you left them. Literally. Exact same spot. Had it even moved all day? It did look a little worse for wear- a little weaker, maybe, with dark patches coming in under its eyes and a definite sway when it tried to sit up straight. As soon as it saw you, it makes an attempt to surge to its feet- and fumbled, nearly landing straight on its face.

“Woah, hey there,” you said as the angel flailed on the ground, wings flapping like a startled duck. “You, uh. You doing all right?”             The angel managed to push itself upright and blinked blearily at you. The swaying was still there, giving the alarming impression that they were a moment from falling again and only just barely preventing themself from doing so.

Perfect. You not only had an angel bunking with you, you had an angel bunking with you and there was something wrong with them. That could only end badly. “Okay, I’m going to need you to work with me here,” you said. The angel was, again, rather compliant as you tugged them into the kitchen and got them to sit at the table. They seemed to be shivering, so… fire in the stove? You grabbed a few blankets and placed them around the angel’s shoulders as well, until the angel was sufficiently covered. The angel’s shivering slowed and it seemed almost perplexed by that development.

“That’s better,” you said. “Are you feeling okay now?”             The angel wobbled a little bit and they blinked at you. They didn’t seem to nod or shake their head at all, or communicate in any way other than staring. Which meant it was hard to figure out what they wanted. Or if they wanted anything at all.

After staring at the angel for a little while longer, just to convince yourself that they weren’t about to keel over, you went to the stove and heated up your dinner. It was just some bread and a very simple chunk of salted meat with a couple of vegetables. The angel watched you, though they still swayed like they were on a ship instead of steady ground.

You returned to the table, carrying your plate, and the angel’s eyes remained locked on you. No, not you, you realized as you got closer. Their gaze was locked on your plate. As you wanted, the angel’s mouth opened, ever so slightly, and a bead of drool actually welled up on their lips. As you set the plate on the table, the angel made a strange noise. You hadn’t been expecting it at all, so it took you a moment to realize it was the angel’s stomach growling.

“Are you hungry?” you asked. The angel stared back at you. After a moment, you pushed the plate of food toward the angel. Their eyes remained on it, but they didn’t make any move to eat. Not even when you took a fork and offered them a bite.

There was a bewildered moment, where you weren’t sure what was going on. Then it clicked in your head: the angel was hungry. They also had no idea what to do with it.

The angel was mortal now. Whatever had happened, when you broke its cage, it had become mortal. But it had never been mortal before. How was it supposed to know anything? How would someone know the pain in your stomach meant hunger if they’d never felt it before? How would they know the heaviness their limbs and strange inability to keep their eyes open would be cured by sleep, or their shivering meant they needed to sit near a fire with blankets?

The angel was a mortal, but it was a very new mortal, and it needed to learn all the other things mortals understood just by being alive.

You scooted closer to the angel and picked up the fork again. This time, you took a bite, making sure the angel watched the food travel into your mouth and you chewing and swallowing. Then, you moved the fork right up to the angel’s lips. “You’re hungry. This will help. You need to eat,” you said, not totally sure if the angel was understanding you. The angel blinked once, twice, then tentatively opened its mouth and allowed you to place the food inside.

The angel, with a sort of bewildered slowness, closed their mouth and chewed. It looked like clumsy chewing, but they picked up on it pretty quickly, their brow furrowed with focus. Then they tried to swallow and instantly choked.

You had a real, legitimate panic about having an angel choke to death at your table for nearly a full twenty seconds before the angel got their breathing under control again. You made them drink water, which went much smoother- maybe you should have started there- and cleaned up. The angel had recovered enough to watch you as you did so, drinking in every motion you made. Maybe it would have been a little creepy, if the angel hadn’t felt so genuinely curious about what you were doing.

When you returned the food to it, the angel ate more carefully, if still with enthusiasm. You’d realized, by that point, that the angel didn’t understand the concept of being too full, so while that would eventually need to be a learning experience, you just took the food away after you’d determined what the angel probably needed. It didn’t protest at all, but let you remove the plate and watched as you collected the scraps that could be composted.

It didn’t protest when you led the angel to bed, either. This time, you just tugged all the bedsheets you had onto the floor and directed the angel’s attention onto you. “We’re going to sleep. You need to sleep. Every night. You sleep like this.” You lay down on the floor, tugged the blankets over yourself, and went still, slowing your breathing. The angel watched until you sat up again. “Now you do it.”

With some very gentle persuasion, you got the angel lying on its side, eyes closed. You watched it until its breathing deepened and its body relaxed. Then you went to sleep yourself.

The angel was still fast asleep when you woke, and you were careful not to disturb it as you made your way to the kitchen. You had a feeling it would turn up and, sure enough, when the smells of cooking made their way down the hall, the angel appeared, a blanket wrapped around it like a cloak.

They ate breakfast, this time not even choking once, and even brought their plate over to the washbasin. “Okay,” you told them once you were done cleaning up. They looked at you, gaze attentive. “We’re going to need to get you some clothes.”

You did not have any clothes in their size, and since you were smaller than they were, you couldn’t just take some of your clothes in. The wings were also a complicating factor. In the end, you didn’t have the time or skills to really make anything elaborate for the angel. With one of your old blankets, you simply created rough arm and neck holes and added darts in the sides to hold the entire thing together. There was no way to create holes for the wings. They were large enough that you just left massive slits down the back to create space. It wasn’t perfect, since the slits left the back rather open, but it was better than nothing. The angel was remarkably still for the whole measuring and pinning and sewing. It took a few hours for the entire process to be over, and you were sore by the end, but the angel had clothes.

It was not long after you’d fully clothed them, when you were lying on your bed to enjoy a rest, that someone knocked on your door.

You jolted, nearly throwing yourself out of bed. The angel startled as well, though they seemed to be more upset by your reaction than the knocking. Cautiously, you crept through the door, grateful that your window allowed you to see the people at your door without needing to open it.

The angel came, warm against your back as they stared out the window after you. The Head Priest stood, dressed in his usual gold-flecked robes and with two guards stationed at either shoulder. You felt the angel shift and bristle behind you turned to look at them.

The angel was staring, unblinking, at the priest and his entourage. Its wings had extended a little, puffed up like the pigeons that littered the town did when they were threatened. But its face… it was the first time you’d ever seen the angel make a real expression of emotion. And it was afraid.

That, more than anything, made your stomach sink.

The knocking came again, louder, harder. The angel slunk back a little. One of its hands was latched onto your wrist and it seemed determined to drag you with it. It actually managed to haul you along for a few steps before you dug your feet in. “I have to answer the door. Go hide.” The angel released your wrist, but it hesitated, wings twitching. “Go. Hide. I will be fine.” The angel flexed its wings once, then turned and headed back to your room. You breathed in and out, then headed toward the door.

As soon as you opened the door, the priest moved into your house. He didn’t shove past you, since he didn’t touch you, but he did force his way in. The guards just roughly shoved you aside, barely recognizing your presence.

“Can I help you, your grace?” you said. It was difficult to keep your voice even. The priest wasn’t a withered old man, but he wasn’t young, and his gaze was as sharp as a shard of glass. He glared around the room, nose twitching. You resisted the irrational thought that he was smelling for something. You licked your lips. “Was my church cleaning not up to your satisfaction?”

The priest’s gaze focused on you. “The cleaning has been fine. However, two days ago, an object of some great importance went missing from the church.”

It was him saying ‘an object’ that saved you. Because you didn’t take an item, you had, technically, stolen a person. But your brain didn’t quite register that he couldn’t just say you’d stolen a person, so when he said ‘an object,’ you took him at face value and your surprise was genuine.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t steal anything.” The priest’s eyes locked onto yours, and you stared back with stupid, genuine bewilderment. There was a flicker across his face, like surprise- maybe he didn’t expect you to look so guileless.

“You won’t mind if we have a look around, then?” the priest said, voice lightly curious. Not even accusing. Genial.

It was a trap. Obviously. Say yes, the priest can poke wherever he wants and look for anything he determined to be incriminating. Say no, that was instantly suspicious, even if you were only doing it for the sake of your privacy. But if you said yes… there was no way he wasn’t going to find the angel in your bedroom.

“Actually, I do mind. Are you accusing me of something?” Acting outraged was your best defense. Not a good defense, just the best one you had. “I don’t appreciate having people rifle through my things just because I happened to be near the church when something was stolen.”

The priest’s eyes narrowed. The guards stiffened. “No accusation, of course. We’re merely… cautious. Surely you can understand why we would want to check out every possible lead. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear, no?”

“I have nothing to fear, but that hardly means I want people meandering into my house at all hours, demanding proof for crimes there is no evidence I committed. Tell me, if I came into your home tomorrow, demanding to look for something you may have stolen while you were in my house, would you be perfectly happy to have me poking through your underwear drawer?” The priest’s face went a strange shade of pink-red, but you barreled on with no pause for his response. “And, to add to that, you haven’t even told me what was stolen! For all I know, you could simply claim any of my items to be the thing I stole and slap me in chains for it!”

The priest was still deadly calm, but there was a clear rage to his voice when he spoke again. “Do you truly think a man of god would do such a thing?”             You lifted your chin in a gesture of audacity. “You call yourself that. But people can call themselves any number of things. And would a true man of god barge into someone’s house and demand to search their things with no evidence of their involvement in any crime?”

The priest’s face was heading toward a shade of puce, but, with effort, his jaw unclenched. “Very well. But I’m certain you’ll understand of we are, as of now, reluctant to have you in the church.”

“Yes, sir.” Losing your job was, really, one of the less-terrible outcomes, and the one you’d expected the most. You had other jobs, though losing the church would be something of a financial loss. Though you also had to consider that you were feeding another mouth, now… That could be a problem.

The priest seemed to take your thoughtful silence as some kind of shameful penitence, because he puffed himself up and nodded. “Take care. We will… see what we can find about the thievery.”

You guided him back to the door. It wasn’t until the door closed and you’d watched him head down the street a good ways before you left out a breath. You made it a few steps down the hall before your entire body demanded that you sit down and tremble for a while.

The priest was gone, for now, but who knew how long until he was back? He didn’t have enough evidence now, but that didn’t guarantee he wouldn’t find some. Or make some up- all he needed was enough to make the local governor force a search of your house, and there was no way you could hide the angel from that. You covered your face with your hands, trying to breathe slowly. If they found you, they could kill you.

Someone slumped down next to you. The angel. It pressed up close to your side, petting at your shoulder like it had heard about being comforting, but it hadn’t ever experienced it. One of its wings draped over you.

There was quiet for a while. The angel touched its head to yours, eyes closed. It was warm, tucked beneath its wing. Calming. You took deep breaths and thought hard.

The only evidence that you’d taken the angel at all was that the angel was there with you. Maybe there was some other evidence at the scene, but the angel was the big problem. The solution was, obviously, to get rid of the angel.

Well, not get rid of it. More like… set it free. They were still an angel, after all. They’d needed some basic training in how to be a person, but certainly they could survive on their own. And, well, it would ease some of the pressure on you, financial and legal.

The angel shifted next to you. You glanced at them. They gave you a once-over, then stood and headed off to your room. A few seconds later, they reemerged, dragging a fair amount of blankets with them. Before you could ask what they were doing, they had already knelt next to you and were shoving the blankets all around you. They bundled you up and carefully lay you on the ground. For your part, you allowed it to happen. The angel seemed to have something they wanted to do.

Once you were wrapped in blankets and lying down, the angel settled next to you. There was a rather proud look on its face and you realized, with a burst of amusement, that it was trying to get you to sleep, as this was more or less what you’d done with the angel to get it to sleep! Did it think you were tired?

The angel shuffled closer, so there was little space between your bodies, and spread a wing over you. The feathers shrouded you in darkness, though there was enough light to just make out the angel’s face. They were as inexpressive as ever, but they seemed to be studying you. When you stared back, with no indication of closing your eyes, they shifted, clearly uncertain what happened next.

“I’m not tired,” you told them. “Though I appreciate the effort.”

They stared at you for a long moment before, with now warning, hopping to their feet and all but running into the kitchen. You took a moment of peace, wrapped in blankets are you were, before following them.

The angel was rummaging through your breadbox. “Are you hungry? What are you doing?” you asked as you approached. The angel thrust a slice of bread at you. “Er. Thank… you?” The angel waited, watching you. It seemed to be expecting you to eat. Just to appease it, you did so. As soon as you started eating, the angel went back to rummaging through your food supplies. It offered you several pieces of dried fruit next, then a couple of strips of jerky. You took them all, though you stopped eating after the first couple of pieces. Once the angel noticed you weren’t eating, they paused and stared.

“Thank you,” you said, a bit bewildered by what was happening. “Are you okay? I don’t really need anything. Is there a reason you’re giving it to me?”

The angel stared at you. Their brows creased ever so slightly- maybe they were upset. You patted their arm, careful not to drop anything that had given you. “Don’t look so worried. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

The angel looked back at you. Hard to tell what they were thinking, as it always was, but you thought they looked content. They took the food back and placed it away again. “Okay,” you told them. “We’ve got some things we’re going to work on.”

First step of getting the angel to live on its own: teach the angel how to be a person. The eating and sleeping bits were taken care of, and the angel had picked up on clothing and even sewing with surprising speed. Regardless of how little information it had known previously, it seemed all you had to do was give it the information once, and it would retain it. That didn’t make teaching it how to bathe any less difficult. And teaching it how to go to the bathroom- well, the less said of that, the better.

And so the week went. You went to work, leaving the angel to hide in your house, then returned home and taught it what you could. It picked up reading so fast you felt like you were reminding it of something rather than teaching it, and teaching it math and money went the same way. The angel even attempted to cook for you, though it hadn’t picked up that you were seasoning the food initially, so the meal was bland. You merely had to explain that to it, though, and the next meal was much improved.

Your next day off approached, not quickly or slowly, just approached. The angel seemed almost agitated, though, as time passed. More distressed when you left, tenser and quieter when you were around. You hadn’t told them about your plan to send them away- to free them, to free them- but perhaps they’d picked up on it on their own. They were still as silent and expressionless as ever, but they stayed near you, their head lowered as they presented you something they’d cooked, or showed you something they’d cleaned or sewed, waiting for your praise or correction.

When your next day off arrived, the angel’s agitation seemed to peak. It hovered near you, wings tucked close to its back. Even when upset, it didn’t show much expression or even move all that much. It just stood, like a stone statue, unhappiness radiating from it. Still, when you told it you were going for a walk, it didn’t protest. Just looked at you and nodded.

Its compliance made you feel guilty, somehow. Even thought you weren’t doing anything wrong. This was the best path. If they angel stayed, they would just be killed or recaptured. Along with you.

The hike to the woods wasn’t usually long, but you had to go the extended route to keep away from people. The angel hid their wings under a bulky robe. It wasn’t a very good disguise, but from a distance and the right angle, they would hopefully be mistaken as a hunchback.

You led the angel deep into the woods, deeper than you would usually venture. The angel flexed their wings, shifting the cloak. Their distress flowed around them, their eyes burning into your lower back. I’m sorry, you thought, even though you weren’t sure why. This was for the best, so why did it hurt?

It took hours of walking, legs sore, before you stopped in a clearing. It was a large clearing, and more oblong than circular, but it was good enough for your purposes. And those purposes were giving the angel somewhere big enough to take off from.

Admittedly, you weren’t certain it could fly, but the wings seemed large and healthy and it had no trouble with walking or any other physical functions after some initial wobbles. It stood to reason that flight would be no different. The angel looked up at the sky, staring. Its wings spread, extending out and out to their full length. It seemed to be giving them a good stretch- there hadn’t been room in your house to do so. After a moment, it gave a couple experimental flaps. Cool wind buffeted you.

The flaps gained in intensity and, for a moment, you thought it would take off right there. But its wings stilled and slipped shut and it looked at you.

“I got you this.” You thrust a basket at them. It wasn’t a lot, but it was what you could spare (technically probably more than you could spare, but a couple days of broth wouldn’t kill you) and the basket had a fabric strap long enough that the angel could wrap it around their body and hold it while flying.

The angel took the basket and peered at the food and water and clothes and single book you’d stockpiled inside. It looked them over for a moment, then glanced back up at you.

It was the second time you’d seen the angel really emote anything and it was sorrow.

The angel’s eyes watered and its apparent confusion at that development seemed to pale in the face of its clear upset. It practically threw the basket back at you, wings spreading and sending a powerful gust across the clearing. Then it opened its mouth and did something you’d never seen it do before.

It wailed. A keening sound of despair. You’d never heard it make any kind of noise before. In fact, it seemed startled by the fact that it had made any kind of noise, though, like the crying, that didn’t seem to stop it. Instead, the angel crumpled to the ground, wings striking the dirt, and wailed.

That wasn’t quite the reaction you’d been expecting. Maybe some protest, but not the clear despair it was displaying. “H-hey, don’t- you’re okay.” You approached the angel cautiously. Its wings kept flexing and slapping against the ground and there was an impressive amount of force behind them. Still, it didn’t direct any of the hits toward you, so it felt reasonably safe to approach.

As soon as you were within a few feet of it, the angel scrambled forward. You almost bolted, but the angel didn’t attack like you though it might. It pressed its forehead to the dirt an inch from your boots and spread its wings, every feather on end and quivering. When you tried to take a step back, the angel shuffled forward, pressing its head even more firmly to the ground. It seemed to be trembling.

Your heart ached. What were you doing?

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it would be safer if you weren’t… But I didn’t mean to upset you.” You knelt next to the angel and placed your hand on its head. The angel went still. For a moment, the stillness was like a frightened dog, expecting a strike, then it melted into a gentle contentedness.

It took a couple moments before the angel was quiet completely again. They lifted their head, face sticky from tears and a bit of dirt smudged along their cheeks. The entire scene was a little pathetic. “Here.” You pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed at their face. After a moment of letting you do so, they took it and cleaned their own face off.

Once its face was clear and it had calmed down a little, the angel looked at you balefully. It seemed to be waiting. Almost resigned. But still frightened. Like it was waiting for a scolding or punishment.

“Are you okay now?” you asked. The angel looked balefully at you. One of its hands lifted, like it was reaching out for you, but it paused before it could make contact. Its head drooped. Its wings drooped too, proud feathers dragging in the dirt. “I’m sorry,” you said again. The angel curled in on itself further. Its eyes were on the ground. “I’m not trying to send you away, all right?”

One of the feathered ear-things on the side of its head twitched. You took that as an invitation to continue. “I thought… I thought you’d be safer if you left, though.”

The angel looked up at that. They didn’t change their expression much, but they were staring intently. You reached out, slowly enough that they could move away if they wanted to. They didn’t, and you were able to rest your hand on the side of their head. Your fingers brushed against the soft, downy little feathers of their ear-wings and the somewhat-tangled mess of their hair. The angel closed their eyes and leaned into your touch. Their entire body shuddered in a sigh. “The people who captured you are still here,” you continued. “If they find you, they’re going to hurt both of us. Maybe kill us.”

The angel leaned away from your touch and lifted its gaze to yours. They were focused on you, intently so. “It’s best if you leave,” you told them. “They won’t be able to find you if you fly away, and they won’t be able to tie anything to me, either. We’ll both be safer.”

It was quiet for several moments. The angel stared at you, their wings twitching with aborted motions. They looked between you and the sky, over and over. Their brows wrinkled. Then, in a flash, they reached out and enveloped you.

Technically, it was just a hug, but the angel’s sheer size and the addition of their wings made it so much more. They surrounded you, tucking you into their chest and holding you close. You could feel their heartbeat, jackrabbiting under their ribs, and their heavy breathing. They were soft and warm around you. One of their hands moved to cradle the back of your head.

You cried. It wasn’t a lot of crying. Mostly it was some particularly wet breathing and a few tears. But the angel held you closer, rocking you against its soft chest and you felt warm and shielded. It presses its cheek to the top of your head and you felt one of its ear-wings flapping, like it was stretching out to touch you.

It was a nice moment, but it couldn’t last. You stopped crying and slipped your way back out of the angel’s arms. They let you, tucking their wings back against their back again and their arms falling back against their sides. Looking into their face, you felt… guilty? That didn’t seem fair. You were doing this for their own good. Right?

The longer you looked at them, the less you could convince yourself of that. Your shoulders drooped and a fresh wave of tears came to your eyes. The angel didn’t want to leave. You wanted them to leave, because them staying there would be a problem for you. A genuine problem, yes, a problem that could get you killed. But it wasn’t fair to pretend that this was good for the angel, nor was it fair to ignore how the angel was feeling. It didn’t want to leave. It was terrified when it realized you were going to try to make it leave.

You hung your head. “I’m sorry.” The angel watched you. “I… I don’t know what to do. I’m scared. I don’t want you to leave, but we’re both going to be in trouble if you stay. We need a way to keep you safe, but I don’t know how to do that, and I can’t think clearly about it when I’m going to be in trouble if you get found out too-” Your voice choked off, breath heaving in panic. You scrubbed the heel of your hand against your eyes until it hurt, until the pain grounded you.

Fingers wrapped around your wrist, tugging it away from your eyes. The angel was holding onto you, both hands wrapping around your wrist. Their strength was more than you’d anticipated. Perhaps it was their general softness or their seeming clumsiness or cluelessness, but you’d never seen them as particularly tough.

The hand that held your wrist, however, was not weak. It was firm and unyielding. When you pulled away, it let you go without a hint of resistance, but you had no doubt that if it had wanted to keep hold of you, you wouldn’t have been going anywhere.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you said. “I wasn’t sure if you would understand.”

The angel brushed its hand gently along the side of your face, cupping your cheek. Its face wasn’t terribly expressive, but there was something calmer, almost serene in its expression. It got to its feet, shaking out its wings, and extended its hand for you. There was a stunned moment before you took the hand and the angel pulled you to your feet. They kept your hand around theirs as they gathered up the basket you’d initially made for them and started to leave the clearing.

You let them lead you along until you realized they were leading you straight back to the village, and even when you got quite close to the buildings, they were not slowing down. “Wait,” you said. “What are you doing?” The angel gave your hand a squeeze, but they didn’t slow down. Anxiety prickled over your skin as you entered the town and headed toward the center.

People barely noticed you at first, but within a few minutes of marching through the town, people had started to point and stare. And then the staring turned into whispers and awe. Some people scrambled away. Some people gathered and followed from a distance, watching in something like awe.

You gave up on trying to stop them and instead walked alongside them to whisper furiously. “Hey. What are you doing? Do you have some kind of plan? I can’t tell what’s going through your head right now. I’m kind of just assuming you know what you’re doing, but it’d be nice to have some kind of confirmation.”             The angel squeezed your hand again. Their thumb traced over your knuckles. Their expression was serene, calm, like they’d just realized something that comforted them. It was reassuring to you, so you allowed them to drag you wherever they wanted to take you.

Until you realized they were dragging you toward the church.

“Wait.” You didn’t try to pull away again, but you did trip over yourself in your realization, making the angel slow down. “You can’t be serious- we can’t go there! That’s the exact place we’re supposed to be avoiding.”

The angel stared at you for a moment, then released your hand. It nodded to you before turning and heading toward the church again.

“Wha- wait!” The angel paused, allowing you to catch up. “You’re still going, huh?”

The angel stared at you. You sighed. “Okay. I guess we’re going, then.

The angel held out a hand. You took it once more. Together, you walked toward the church.

As soon as you stepped through the doorway, the angel drew itself up, wings fluffing. The entire thing was quite intimidating to watch, given its already tall stature. It glanced around, as if assessing the space. Warm, honey-gold sunlight filtered through the tall, stained glass windows and illuminating the wood of the benches. When the sunlight hit the angel, it seemed to surround them, glimmering off their body in a way that wasn’t quite natural. Almost like a halo around its entire body.

You waited, mostly trying to see what the angel was going to do next. As it turned out, you didn’t have to wait very long, because a pissed-looking priest stormed into the sanctuary.

“The beast returns to holy ground,” he snarled. You stepped in front of the angel, arms spread.

“They’re not a beast. You’re the one who captured them and chained them in your basement. They haven’t done anything!”

“They have been cast out of the divine host. Their fall and subsequent capture are what is deserved for those who would defy our Lord.” The priest didn’t sound enraged or even particularly vicious. His tone was cool and cold. He approached, steps clunking heavily against the cool wooden floor of the church. You resisted the urge to step back and steeled your resolve as the priest approached. The angel didn’t seem to be doing much, though you could feel their presence at your back. “Your assistance with their disobedience is a serious strike against you, but the Lord God will welcome all stray members back to his flock, provided you are willing to repent and return the beast to its confinement.”             The priest was leaning into your face, so close you could feel his breath touching your skin. The angel was still unmoving, but there was more tension to their body now. Like a big cat getting into a crouch.

Your breath was trembling, but you managed a clear enough whisper. “Fuck off.”

The priest leaned back. “Hm. Very well. May God have mercy on your soul.” The gestured toward a couple of men standing toward the back of the church. They started to approach, brandishing their short swords. “I would suggest surrender,” the priest said. “Unless you are eager to find out how the Lord God punishes those who disobey his-”

The angel lunged. Its wing brushed against your shoulder as it darted around you and slammed into the priest. He fell, the angel on top of him. Their wings shielded you from seeing what they were doing, but the choked gurgle from the priest let you know enough about what was happening.

The guards, who had been standing on either side of the aisle, near the pulpit, charged. One of them nearly caught the angel with their sword, but the angel managed to recoil just in time, leaving the priest gasping for air on the ground. The guards moved up, pushing the angel back as they blocked the priest from it. Together, they pushed the angel back a few more steps, advancing threateningly, until the angel glanced back and saw you. It stopped, digging its feet in, and turned back to the guards.

The angel spread their wings, blockading the entire aisle. It was difficult to see what happened next, but there was a scrambling noise of footsteps and the angel tucked their wings in and lunged.

Thanks to the armor the guards were wearing, this struggle was more prolonged. The angel’s wings flapped, coming down on the guard they were fighting with blows stronger than a fist could hope to achieve. One of the angel’s hands clutched at the guard’s wrist, driving the sword away from the angel’s belly. They wrestled the guard slowly to the ground, clawing at them with nails that seemed too long and sharp and stomping hard enough that the guard’s armor dented under their feet.

Chills wracked your body as you watched. The angel was a mortal, yes, but you’d clearly forgotten: mortal was not the same thing as human. And the strength with which the angel was tearing into the guard was not human.

And then a cold metal line settled against your throat. Sharp and cruel. A hand locked around your torso, pinning your arms to your sides. Icy terror settled into your brain and every vein in your body. Right. The angel was taking care of one of the guards. But there had been two.

“Call off the fucking bird,” the guard said, “before I slit your throat.”

The sheer terror in his voice should have made the threat less effective, but realizing that he was scared enough to kill you without thought was nearly enough to make you start begging for your life immediately. The angel whipped around as the first terrified whimper escaped your mouth.

It was the third time you’d seen the angel truly express emotion. And they were angry.

They bared their teeth and stretched their wings out, flexing them to nearly their full span. It was an impressive display, and a terrifying one. The knife dug a little more into your throat. Panic clawed your belly to shreds.

“Fucking stupid worthless shit,” the guard cursed behind you. The knife kept trembling at your throat, threatening to nick a little too deep. The angel watched, brows deeply knitted. It twitched its wings a few times, freezing when the blade drew blood at your throat. “You fucking take one step closer and your little pet human bleeds out like a pig,” the guard said. It wasn’t even a vicious or snarling threat. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. But the knife was just as sharp and the trembling was making it slip against your skin in a dangerous fashion.

The angel paused. It straightened up out of its attack crouch, wings tucking against its back. The knife eased at your throat a little. The angel took in a slow, deep breath, eyes on you. Its expression relaxed into something gentler as it met your eyes. It seemed to take a deep breath. Its wings relaxed. It closed its eyes. And it began to sing.

It wasn’t singing with its mouth or vocal cords. It was the same singing you’d heard in the beginning, the singing that had drawn you to the church’s basement. Less like the vocalization of a human, but more like an emotion made into pure sound. It vibrated through your limbs and settled in your chest, a heavy weight of sadness and fear.

The song pulsed, rose and fell, over and over again, thrumming and pulsing and changing as it went. It started as a terrible projection of fear and pain, injury and despair. Then the pain was threaded with hope, then a joy and relief so palpable it was its own kind of pain. Peace and comfort followed that, almost like being settled in a warm bed after a nice meal. Then an abrupt sharpening of terror and sadness before turning to determination, then blind, horrible rage. The anger pressed in around you, bearing down like a sharpened spear. But the rage wasn’t quite aimed at you. It was aimed at the man holding you. And being the target of an angel’s pure rage, even when nothing physical is being done with it, is a daunting prospect. The guard’s knees went weak and the knife at your throat wavered.

The song intensified. Your own legs were trembling under the weight of it. Anger and hope and fear and happiness and even love, pressing down on you, emotion given a deep, physical property. You sobbed, barely feeling the knife at your throat. Had it fallen away? Could you just not feel it anymore? What was real? All that was real was the song and the love that was building in the song, growing more intense around you. It was insulating, like the angel was trying to wrap you in the song until you were surrounded by care, until there was nothing else in the world.

You blinked your eyes. They hadn’t been closed, but you hadn’t been seeing anything. It had been more like the world had shifted slightly out of focus and you were just getting it back to center.

You were lying down across a lap. The shifting of wings above you let you know whose lap you were lying across. The angel was holding you, cradling your head against its body. There was still the faintest traces of song humming from it, though it wasn’t the great, overbearing crescendo it had once been. You made an attempt to sit up and the angel shifted around you, letting you move while still offering support.

“What happened?” you asked. You felt woozy, a bit out-of-body. The angel, obviously, didn’t say anything, but it did stretch one of its wings toward the crumpled shape of the other guard. He was lying on the ground, unmoving. “Is he-” you started, then stopped when you realized his chest was rising and falling. He seemed stunned, like you’d been a few moments ago.

You twisted your head around to get a better look at the rest of the room and winced. Stinging pain radiated from your neck. The angel nudged your hand away and ran its fingers over the lines cut into your skin. Right, the knife. They didn’t seem to be actively bleeding anymore, so they must not have been deep, but the angel still seems distressed by their very presence.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head back to look up into their face. The angel stares back at you, their ear-wings folded calmly against either side of their head. They seemed physically unhurt, or they weren’t in so much pain that they were showing it. “Good.” You sorted through your muddled thoughts. The song had hit you so hard, it was almost like your own body had gone through all those emotions it had conveyed at a rapid pace. No wonder the guard was stunned. Your head was swimming. But then your brain finally catches on a thought and you startle. “The priest!”

The angel caught you as you attempted to scramble upright and assisted you to your feet. The priest was close to the pulpit, but he was as collapsed as the guard. He seemed to be recovering faster, though that primarily consisted of him flopping his limbs in all directions. You approached, the angel close behind you.

The priest stared up at you as you got within speaking range. His face was completely under his control, unlike the rest of him, and a sneer contorted his expression. “You cannot win against His holy will. God will ensure that His holy justice will-”

“Uh huh,” you said. “He doesn’t really seem to be doing too much smiting right now, though.” The priest groaned on the ground, grinding his teeth.

“Are you going to kill me?” he said, a semi-hysterical laugh bubbling from his lips. “It’s no matter. I will return to His Holiness and my eternal home in heaven. And you- do you think you’ll be able to stay here with blood on your hands and that beast stalking your footsteps?”

“They’re not a beast,” you snapped before forcibly calming yourself. “I’m not going to kill you.” The angel shifted, clearly irritated, but you held up your hand to them. “I don’t have anything to kill you for. You haven’t done anything to me. Not really.” You turned to the angel. “It’s their decision. If they want you dead- that’s up to them. Not me.”

The angel watched you as you spoke, then it turned its gaze to the priest. You placed a hand on the angel’s shoulder. Well, close to its shoulder. The angel was very tall. There was a moment of silence. The angel’s wings twitched. Maybe it was hesitant to try and kill now that it wasn’t the heat of the moment. Maybe it was weighing the pros and cons. The priest rolled onto his stomach and groaned.

The angel turned and pressed a kiss to your head. It happened so fast, you didn’t register it until the angel was turning and grabbing the man on the ground. They hefted him up by his lapels and started hauling him out of the church. You hurried along behind them.

It took only a few moments for the angel to make it to the enormous front doors of the church. They shoved them open with only one hand, sending more light across the sanctuary and revealing the large crowd of people milling around. At least half the town was gathered outside the church, presumably drawn by the commotion and the sight of an angel. The angel looked around them with what seemed to be satisfaction, then hefted the priest again, holding the man out in front of them. Then the angel extended their wings to their full length, drew the priest in close again, so their faces were mere inches apart, and began another song.

The previous song, the one inside the church, had been intense like holding your hand over an open flame, but this was intense like having a spear driven slowly into your brain. This was focused, purposeful. A spire of anger and pain. The world flickered behind your eyes, an image pressed against your brain- the memory of being thrown away, then lost, then trapped. The rage and grief and panic of being trapped. The priest’s face loomed down at you, sneering, cold, and the terror that welled inside of you twisted not just your stomach but your entire being. You were cast out and alone and the only thing you could do was scream as someone else caged you.

At some point, the angel had dropped the priest. They stepped closer to you, tucking their wings about you as the song ended, trembling and weak. They seemed tired, their wings drooping along with their posture. Their body slumped. They weren’t leaning against you, but they were swaying toward you. You reached up to take their face in your hands.

“You okay?” you asked. The angel blinked at you. A few more notes trembled out of it. You could feel them pass from the angel into you. And with them, something like an image: you, scoring out lines of text on a wall with a makeshift chisel, gently dimming the blinding brightness of the room to the comfortable darkness. The angel gave a long, shuddering sigh, then slumped forward until its body weight was slowly but surely crushing you.

The angel was asleep before either of you hit the ground. The priest didn’t seem to be doing much better. He was curled on the ground, occasionally twitching. Maybe he was crying, you weren’t sure. A couple of people walked over toward him, but no one seemed particularly worried. Had everyone else heard the song and made the connection too? Perhaps the angel had just been trying to tell its story. Maybe that was its revenge- making the entire town turn against him.

By the point you’d processed that information, you’d been smushed to the ground. The angel was big enough that you really couldn’t lift them at your best, and you were exhausted by the day. After only a couple seconds to shoving, you resigned yourself to being on the ground.

Footsteps shuffled closer and you looked up to see a few of your neighbors around you. “Need help?” an older man, one you recognized as someone who taught at the local university. You curled one arm protectively over the angel, cautious. “We’re not gonna hurt ‘em. Just trying to help get you home.”

You considered. Then nodded. The angel stirred as a few people worked together to lift it off of you, but it settled when you patted its arm. Slowly, you and the angel returned to your home.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting after you got to your house. For that moment, you didn’t expect anything at all, except for a long nap because you were exhausted. And you did get that, lying in the blanket pile on your floor with the angel. They practically crawled on top of you several times, and your subsequent crawling away so you weren’t crushed to death ended with the blanket pile being almost dragged to the other side of the room. The angel was, of course, never deterred, and it was on top of you by morning.

What you hadn’t anticipated happening at all was the gifts that kept appearing at your house. Clearly, your neighbors were dropping them off. Notes were often attached, sometimes independent of any gifts- wishing you well, giving you messages of support, and expressions of general kindness. There was food in the pile, from vegetables to fresh cheese and bread, as well as some cloth and even a quilt. That one, in particular, made tears come to your eyes. It had clearly been in a closet for a while, given the musty smell, but it was handmade and the kindness of the gesture was unmistakable.

It took you some time to remember what most of these gifts were for- not until you read the last note on the pile. It was from the town’s doctor, a simple gift of a few herbs used for healing, though they were in bundles too small to be useful. The note was simply ‘For health, luck, and peace.’”

The gifts, the note and herbs. You knew what they were for. You’d participated in the tradition before, though your gifts had been pretty paltry. They were traditional gifts given to a newcomer, sometimes when there was a baby born, but also sometimes when a person in the town married someone from outside the town. Gifts of welcome and acceptance.

You returned to the angel, arms laden with the gifts, and offered them to it. The angel seemed vaguely overwhelmed by them, but accepted them nonetheless. It still seemed tired, and so you spent the day at home, quiet and undisturbed. You bathed the angel, scrubbing bits of blood off it and trying to get the feathers of its wings clean. The angel, after some insistence, ended up bathing you, as well, and it fussed over the few bruises you’d gained in the fight. Another night was spent curled in the same nest-bed. This time, you just let the angel flatten you with its body. It was sort of cozy.

The next day, you returned to the church. The town was still a little quiet- there weren’t as many people out as there would usually be- but the people you did see nodded politely to you. Their nods were a little longer, a little lower, than they usually would be. Almost like slight bows. Though you weren’t entirely sure why they would be bowing at you. Perhaps they were bowing to the angel at your back.

The church seemed strangely abandoned, despite it having only been a bit over a day since everything had happened. The guard’s body was still crumpled on the floor, some blood splattered around him and dried to the floor. You approached it. The angel followed, though their wings fluffed up with agitation.

There wasn’t much else you could do with the body. You lifted it, with the angel’s help, and placed it on a pew. You cleaned the blood and viscera on the floor. Then, finally, you took the body downstairs, stripped it, and wrapped it in the white funeral cloth. The angel helped, with an expression on its face that seemed mournful, though it was hard to be sure.

Perhaps you could have left it like that, left the man wrapped in cloth and walked home. But it felt weird to do so. The angel helped you carry the man up into the graveyard. Then you dug out a pit and placed the body in it before burying them.

The angel knelt next to the grave, resting a hand on the dirt. “Sorry,” you told the grave. You weren’t sure where the other two were- the other guard and the priest, but you hadn’t seen them. Perhaps they’d been driven out. The townspeople certainly seemed to have taken your side. The man in the grave wasn’t entirely innocent- he had certainly seemed willing to kill or hurt the both of you. But you felt weird. The other two had lived. He hadn’t. Luck of the draw.

The angel leaned against you, just enough to feel the warmth of their presence. You sighed. They were safe, at the very least, and they were accepted by the town.

You looked at the angel. “What do you want to do now?”

The angel looked back at you. They blinked, once, slowly. Then they took your hand and pulled you into the church.

You knew where you were going before you got there. The heavy doors were solidly sealed, though no longer chained. The angel opened them, letting go of your hand as they did so. They stepped through the doorway, then looked back at you. You stepped forward and took their hand. And so, they led you back down to the basement.

The room was pitch black. You stretched out your hand and felt the rough walls. As you continued, you could feel the words carved into the stone, and some of the scratches and gouges where you’d carved the words away.

The angel moved toward the center of the room, away from the walls, and you followed them. They moved to the spot they’d been chained in. One of their hands was still around yours. The darkness of the room pressed in on you, so black there was no difference between your eyes being open or closed. The angel’s hand remained, the only point of contact in the room. Their thumb brushed over your knuckles, their fingers intertwining with yours. You could hear their breathing. You breathed, too. Together, in the small, dark room where you’d first met. There was nothing else. There was only the room.

The angel tugged on your hand, and you moved with them until you were flush against their chest. They hugged you, briefly, then sighed. It shuddered through all their bones on the way out, and seemed to take something with it. Like something they had been holding onto was released.

Then they pulled on your hand again and led you back out of the basement.

When you emerged into an area that was light enough to see, you caught sight of the angel’s face. It was the fourth time you had seen the angel really emote. And it was happy. There was a certain level of sadness or mournfulness to it as well. But the angel was smiling. Its gaze turned to you and it smiled wider still.

You cleaned the church for a while. It felt more like habit than anything else. Although there was something quite satisfying about going through the priest’s office and dumping everything onto the street. There should have been other officials in the church, but there weren’t any. Perhaps they’d fled when the priest was deposed, perhaps they’d just not wanted to stick around now that the angel they’d trapped was free. Who could say. You weren’t overly fussed at the loss.

When you emerged into the sanctuary, sore and a bit grimy, there were people there.

It was just a couple, a man and a woman. Then you saw the bundle they were clutching between them. A baby, presumably one born not too long ago. It squirmed a little in the blankets, but it didn’t cry. Its breathing seemed… maybe a little labored? You weren’t sure- you weren’t expert in babies.

The angel seemed to perk up when it noticed this, eyes intent, though it made no move to get closer to the couple. “Hello,” the woman ventured. You wracked your brain for their names. Tabitha, maybe? And the man was… Gerald? “We- we, ah.” Her voice quavered and she held the baby a little tighter.

“We came here for a blessing,” Gerald said. “We weren’t sure…”

Oh. Their baby was ill. “You might want to go to the town doctor,” you suggested.

“We were there,” Tabitha insisted. “They gave us medicine. But just in case we…” She glanced around the church, clearly anxious.

Right. They would want a blessing for their baby. One that would maybe grant good health, or at least a peaceful passing and a safe journey after, if not. You chewed the inside of your lip, unwilling to turn them away. But it wasn’t like you knew how to perform a blessing, or hand any authority to do so-

The angel caught your wrist and started tugging you along toward them. The couple huddled closer together at the sight of the angel, but both of them remained there. There was something in their expressions… perhaps awe? Perhaps even a flicker of hope. The angel stopped in front of them. Its hand shifted on your wrist until it was properly holding hands with you. Then it extended its other hand toward the couple.

They barely hesitated before holding their child out.

The angel didn’t quite touch the child, but their hand hovered over them. The air hummed with the faintest vibrations of a song. The baby squirmed. Your hand, the one the angel was holding, felt warm.

And then it was over. The angel dropped their hand. Their ear-wings fluttered a few times. They dipped their head to the parents in a slight bow.

“Thank you,” Tabitha whispered. She clutched the baby to her chest and it kicked its little legs a few times. “Thank you.”

The baby lived. Maybe it was the blessing, or maybe it was the medicine, it wasn’t clear. But clearly work had gotten around, because people came to you for blessings at least once a day. The angel always obliged, though they refused to work if you weren’t around, and they nearly always looked to you for something like permission before they performed the blessing. The only time they didn’t was when they were performing one for young kids or babies.

Perhaps the blessings was why you set up station in the church. It was easier for people to get to than your house, and the angel didn’t seem particularly bothered by being there. Sometimes, the people who came for blessings wanted to talk, too, and you were better suited for it than the angel. They listened, certainly, but people who were emotionally worn down didn’t tend to react well to an angel staring them down with a blank expression. You gave all the advice you could, which wasn’t much. They seemed to be happy after talking with you, though, so you kept at it.

The days settled into a steady routine. You would head to the church and take care of problems that any people had, be it by distributing blessings or by just talking to them. Then you’d gather the donations that had been left overnight and sort through them. The angel was a good help whenever you had to clean- their wings allowed them to get to areas in the high, sloping ceiling that you could never manage.

When they weren’t cleaning or blessing, they tended to hover around you. Not in an oppressive way- they just were usually nearby. Sometimes, if your mood turned, they would come closer, settling next to you, and either stretching their wings out toward you or draping their torso against you. The touch was comforting, and you found yourself responding similarly to their mood. You could almost sense when they were anxious, and they seemed pleased when you were nearby.

You’d just finished administering advice to a small crowd of worried people about a spate of rapid deaths and had settled down to look through the few offerings that had been left when it hit you. “Ah, fuck,” you said. The angel glanced over at you, ear wings twitching. “I’m a priest now, aren’t I?”

The angel headed over and flumped down next to you. Their wings wrapped around you in a comforting manner. “I give blessings and advice, I maintain the church, people leave offerings. Isn’t that a priest?”

The angel squeezed you with its wings. It nuzzled its head against yours. “I mean, I’m not a priest of God,” you mused out loud. “I don’t think I care much about Him.” You looked down at the angel, who stilled under your gaze and tilted its head until it was looking into your eyes. “I guess if I am a priest, I would be one for you, right? That makes me your priest.”

The angel shuddered. The motion trembled through its wings, making every feather stand on end. Its eyes went wide. Then it surged forward to mash its lips with yours.

It was so startling that you simply fell backward, unable to stand up against the angel’s enthusiasm. “Woah, woah, hey!” you said as the angel fumbled on top of you. One of your hands found the back of their head and tangled in their hair. The angle went still. “You okay?”

The angel closed its eyes and sang a few notes. An image rose into your mind- an image of you, leaning over the angel, your arms outstretched and a smile on your face. The emotion the angel felt surged so powerfully you could feel it in your fingertips. Vague other images swam through your mind- images of a couple kissing and a sense of both curiosity and jealousy, images of you and a deep sense of affection, and images of the town with a sense of protectiveness. The final image was one of you and the angel, wrapped together in each others’ arms, and the sense of want that came from that image made your breath catch.

When you came back to yourself, the song fading, the angel was blinking down at you. Their eyes were wet. You reached up and they leaned into your touch as soon as it met their cheek.

“Okay,” you said. “We can try this too. Let me show you.” Your other hand went back into their hair and you pulled them down for a kiss.

It was enthusiastic, if unskilled. When you broke away for air, the angel kissed furiously at every bit of skin they could reach. Scattered bits of song slipped from their lungs, tingling along your skin and mind in dizzying fashion.

Eventually, the angel backed off, apparently exhausted by the outburst of emotion. They slumped on the ground next to you, though there was an apparent reluctance to break contact. They kept a hand on your stomach, feeling you breathe. For your part, the connection sent wild sparks running through your body.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said after a few moments. The angel tugged you closer, pressing its face to the top of your head and heaving a contented sigh. Even without the song, all you could sense in the slow, steady breath was love, love, love.

[tlbodine]

Trans Horror Authors

My January reading challenge is to read a book by a trans author. Luckily, there are many out there to choose from! Here are some who write in the horror genre, because that's my area of expertise. If you know of others, whether in horror or other genres, reply with your recommendations!

In no particular order...

Caitlin R. Kiernan

A genderfluid Irish-American paleontologist who also writes spectacular cosmic horror, what's not to love? They've been repping queerness since the 80s and have a robust library to choose from, so you're bound to find something you'll like!

Poppy Z. Brite

Billy Martin, whose work is published under the name Poppy Z. Brite, was a big name in the Gothic horror scene of the 1990s and continues to be a frequently-recommended author, although he doesn't publish as much horror these days.

Julya Oui

A Malaysian trans woman and prolific short story author. She has several collections out that you can browse, if short stories are your speed! Maybe start with Taiping Tales of Terror, which draws heavily on her native folklore and influences.

Rivers Solomon

A nonbinary, intersex Black author now living in the U.K., Solomon has three books out and they all look spectacular. Their books lean more toward sci-fi/fantasy, but their newest title Sorrowland looks to be pretty solidly Gothic as well.

Gretchen Felker-Martin

Trans woman, film critic, and unapologetically outspoken. Her best-known book is Manhunt, a post-apocalyptic horror tale that doesn't pull any punches. She's got another new release slated for 2024 to keep an eye on.

Hailey Piper

One of the most prolific authors I can name off the top of my head, Hailey also has several novellas out in the world + a few novels. If the intersection of queer fiction, body horror, and cosmic horror sounds like your thing, you can find something in her backlist. Also she's here on tumblr, go learn more at @haileypiperfights

Eve Harms

A bit of a new player on the field, but well worth checking out. Eve is a Jewish trans woman. Her debut novel, Transmuted, is a breathless body horror romp. She also makes a bunch of handmade zines, which I just think are neat :)

Natalie Ironside

One of Tumblr's very own better-known names, Natalie is queer, disabled, trans, hilarious, and author to at least three novels I can think of plus some other stuff too - go scope her out on @natalieironside for the details.

.....I know I'm missing a ton of people but these were the first ones that came to mind. I have to get back to writing, but I hope this inspires y'all to pick up a book you haven't read yet, and to add to my list down in the notes.

Happy reading, y'all :)

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tear Down My Reason [5]

Orderly!Blue Jones X NonBinary Afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Blue has a few days off.

Series Masterlist

A/N: Reader is afab and non-binary, and is referred to by the nickname, 'Honey'.

Warnings: overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious consent because reader is a patient, soft!Blue, some anxious thoughts, dry humping, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being a bit possessive, Honey as a pet name, swearing, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2062

Blue was off for three days, which shouldn’t have been so much of an issue for you.

It was scheduled, routine time off that he’d told you about in advance. It wasn’t as if you were wondering where he was and if he was okay.

Not that you cared if he was okay or not. No. No way. Not at all.

But the days had been surprisingly long and boring without him. You missed his presence in the building. Harris, Blue’s second in command, had been left in charge. He was a calm man, with an even voice but he didn’t have the same gravitas that Blue had cultivated. And while patients still went quiet when he came into a room, it was more the other orderlies that were the issue. 

Especially a couple of the new recruits. Russell and Mcconnell in particular are high on your list of people to steer clear of.

Abigail said your name softly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You blink hard. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, shaking your head. 

“You okay?” Abigail's eyebrows are pinched together in worry but you nod. 

“Just thinking.” 

She nods. 

Erna and Meagan give you sympathetic looks, and Lilly had paused speaking. She gave you a soft smile, shifting her chair in the rec room a fraction closer to you. 

“You sure?” Lilly leans forward a little as she speaks.

“Yeah, no,” you rub your eyes, “tired maybe.” 

Lilly hums and strokes your back, “I know the feeling… must be nice though, not having Blue around at the moment? He’s really been riding your back recently.” 

You freeze for a second and she thankfully mistakes your reaction. The more correct turn of phrase was that you had been riding him.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She leans a little loser and you manage to give her a weak smile. 

“Yeah.” You swallow, your mouth dry. 

“He has been better recently.” Megan adds, “he’s not been so,” she gestures with her hands, “extreme.”

Lilly shakes her head, “You don’t know him like we do.” The ‘we’ obviously means you and her. What exactly had happened in solitary? 

“He’s distracted at the moment,” Lilly adds and Meagan nods sadly, before turning back to you, “he’ll get bored and’ll focus on someone else soon, I promise.” She says it so kindly, trying to console you as best she can. 

She doesn’t know that it feels like a blade to the chest. 

.

An air of dispondance hangs over you later than evening when you go to your room for lights out. For once you’re in bed well before the orderlies come to lock the bedroom doors and call for lights out. 

But you don’t sleep. No matter how hard you try. 

The conversation plays over and over in your head like a merry-go-round, getting stuck on specifics before rotating back to the beginning. 

He’ll get bored of you. 

You don’t know him like we do.

You sigh, tensing your muscles, trying to wipe the thoughts out. If you needed to-

Your door clicks, the sound of a jangle and then keys in the lock. 

Nausea twists in your stomach. You don’t freeze, instead you sit bolt upright, your left hand rummaging for the twisted metal bed springs you’d fashioned into a primitive weapon under your mattress, it wouldn’t do much but it was better than nothing.

The door opens and the tension leaves you in one quick sweep. 

Even in the dark, you recognise Blue’s silhouette.

“Blue,” you whisper, unable and unwilling to keep the smile out of your voice. 

He shuts the door quickly, putting his keys in the lock before he comes over and sits on the side of your bed. 

You shift, giving him extra space. 

“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he reaches out, lightly touching your upper arm and then quickly embracing you when you reach for him. He presses his face into your neck and breathes deeply, like he was finally filling his lungs with clean air. 

“I thought you would be sleeping.” He strokes your cheek, kissing you softly and nuzzling your nose against his. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

He frowns, still stroking your skin, “Badly?” 

You shake your head. “No, no, just one of those days, well nights.” 

He smiles, “Hmm, I understand, I’ve felt the same.” He gives you another soft kiss that makes your stomach buzz pleasantly. 

“How were your days off? I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning?” You stroke his waist, shuffling a little so you can get closer to him. 

“Awful. Missed you so bad Honey. Hated it.” He moans softly, leaning into your touch eagerly. “Thought I was gonna lose it, so I came back now.”

You slide your hand up and around his shoulders as you trail sloppy kisses along his jaw, his breathing hitches as he groans and quickly tugs off his shoes before he clambers fully onto the bed. 

“Thought you were gonna be sleeping.” He repeats, almost lightheaded with how you're touching him. Need burns along his veins, makes him dizzy. “Was just gonna look in on you, just wanted to see your pretty face.” 

You mouth at his neck, scraping your teeth over his pulse point in a way you know drives him wild.

He groans immediately, grabbing at your hips, “Honey, oh shit.” He breathes heavily in your ear, pulling you into his lap. “Gonna get me all worked up.” He bites his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control over himself. 

“Good.” 

“Ugh,” he slips his hands under your pyjama top, just skimming the tips of his fingers over your warm skin. “You’re addictive, you know that. They need to put a warning in your notes,” he presses his left hand against the small of your back, pushing you so that your core rocks against him. “Hmmm,” he moans into your mouth when you kiss him, parting his lips eagerly and letting your tongue slip inside. 

You shiver, the heat of his hand spreading up your back as you grind against him, rubbing your aching clit all over his rapidly hardening cock. 

“Missed you.” You mutter and he whimpers.

“Missed you, Honey, missed you so fucking much.” He tugs at your clothes. “Come, let’s get these off, yeah?” He asks sweetly, smiling when you nod. 

You disentangle from each other just long enough for you both to strip. Blue yanks off his lab coat, t-shirt and sweats, chucking them on the floor and then sitting back against your headboard. 

His hands are all over you before you’re even finished undressing. He pulls you softly back into his lap, positioning your legs so that they’re wrapped around his waist. He grins up at you, his eyes bright as his bare skin is finally against yours. 

“Hmmm, much better Honey, much better.” He leans forward, sucking a love bite into the base of your neck and soothing the sting quickly with his tongue. 

He lets out a little shuddered breath as you start to move again, slowly rocking against his warm, velvety length. 

You shiver, wrapping your arms around him as pleasure starts to build in your belly and makes you desperate.

“God,” he swallows thickly, “love watching you,” he kisses your chin, lips, cheek, alternating between having to gaze upon your face and needing his mouth touching your skin. He whines low in his throat, whimpering with every gentle rock and glide of your hips. 

“Do you think you can come like this?” He asks softly, his voice strained. 

You nod, your fingers digging in and you move faster as you lift yourself up and down, dragging your bundle of nerves over him again and again. 

“Please,” he moans, so caught up in the sensations of your folds sliding against his cock, every drag and long drawn out movement sending him reeling into bliss. “P-please, want to watch you come, want you to feel good.”

His words go straight to your core, the desperate love sick glaze to his eyes, the way he tugs at your waist, moving with you wantonly is all too much, and it’s all too easy to let yourself just sink under his spell. 

You whine, breathing hard as you squeeze his biceps and shoulders, so close you can taste it. 

“Couldn't even come without you the last few days,” he pants, “wouldn’t work, just wanted to feel you and taste you and-” He groans low as you tense, your breath leaving you in a gasp. 

Pleasure explodes along your nerves, flooding your mind as you shake in his arms and claw at his back. 

“Oh god, yes.” He moans louder than you do, holding your chin and neck in his hands so he can watch your face intently. He keeps moving, rocking his hips to prolong your pleasure as he bites his lip to force down his own orgasm. 

He litters your face with kisses as you relax, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “Look so beautiful, Honey.” He whispers and hugs you tightly.

You breathe hard but then pull back a fraction. 

Blue frowns, a worried look flashing across his face until you rise up and take his cock in hand. A deep groan overtakes him as you line him up with your soaking core and sink down onto his thick length. 

“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he repeats, gasping as you move slowly at first, easing up and down gently. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he chokes, “I’m gonna, I can’t, I’m gonna come.” He bites his lip hard, trying to focus on anything else. 

“Shhh,” you press your thumb against his mouth, easing his lip free from his teeth and kissing him sweetly, tasting the desperation on his tongue. “Be good and come for me.” 

He whines, grabbing hold of your waist and pushing you down flush against him. He rocks twice, his eyes screwed up tight, mouth open as he empties himself into you with a long sigh. Relief flooding his veins like an addict finally getting a hit. 

He buried his face into your chest, kissing your breasts and muttering thank yous. 

Softly, you stroke his hair, it’s getting a little longer, starting to grow out of his short cut. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” You whisper. 

“Yes, yes I do.” He mumbles into you. “Need to thank you every second of the day.” 

You giggle, your heart so light and airy you feel like you could float. “You’re so silly.” 

He snorts, looking up at you and smiling. “Loving you isn’t silly, Honey.” He gazes at you for a long moment, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. “I have something for you.”

You incline your head, “Something for me?” 

“Hmm,” he grins cheekily, “something that isn’t my cock.” 

You tut but you’re laughing. “I already have that anyway,” you squeeze your walls around him and he groans. 

“Hell yeah, you do.” He squeezes you tightly before he bends to the side at the most awkward angle, but doing it so that he doesn’t have to take his softening cock out of you just yet. 

He fishes around in his lab coat pockets for a moment while you laugh.

“Ah, ha!” He sits up dramatically, relishing your attention. “Here.” 

He hands you a small soft toy bear that is a little larger than your hand. It’s soft, it’s fur a warm baby blue. 

You stare at it for a moment, an alien emotion settling in your bones. 

“Do you…” he swallows, gazing up at you nervously, “if you don’t like it, you don’t have-”

You snatch it from his hand a little dramatically and he smiles shyly, warmth breaking into his chest. 

“I love it.” You smile, you want to cry. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t remember the last time someone gave you a gift.

“I saw it yesterday, I was out shopping and I saw him and…” A little blush colours his cheeks that isn’t from the exertion of your lovemaking. “Bears like honey right? And he’s blue.” 

You take his chin in your left hand and cradle the bear to your chest with your right as you pull him into a deep, long kiss that leaves him breathless and lightheaded. 

“I love him, Blue, thank you.” 

He grins, hugging you tightly like you’re the only thing he cares about in the word. “I’m glad Honey.” 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[watercolourcritters]

thirty-five

bday comics: thirty-three ; thirty-four

AN: I have an acquired brain injury, and always have a lot of feelings about it on my birthday. This is my third year of drawing yearly birthday comics as a way to reflect on my TBI journey, disability, and where I'm at.

Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar

[ID copied from alt text: A six-panel comic, depicting scenes painted in greyscale watercolour with text added digitally.

One - The art shows a path through a wooded area. It reads "I'm 35 today. Half-way through this decade, five years into healing. I've been dreading this birthday for weeks."

Two - The path now travels alongside water, and the art is close up, showing the path and a sliver of grass and water in one corner. It reads "There's too much meaning caught in the passage of time, and five years feels heavier than four, three, two. I keep trying to find words about hope and moving forward, but it all feels trite."

Three - The art shows a pond, with reeds at the shore close to the viewer, and fir trees on the other side. It reads "Grief never really leaves, but this year it walks close at my side, naming my losses one by one."

Four - Close up art of reeds and grasses, with cloudy skies behind them, as if looking up through them at the sky. It reads "I love my life, but this still isn't how I wanted it to go. And I'm still learning how to hold love and grief in the same hand."

Five - The view shifts back to the pond, showing a large snapping turtle swimming through the water. It reads "But I can feel the sun on my face, and the grass beneath my feet, and maybe that's enough."

Six - The art shows me, a chubby nonbinary white person with glasses and a curly mullet, sitting at the side of the pond and looking out into the water. My back is to the viewer. It reads "Maybe, some day, this life will be enough."

Each panel has the watermark @ watercolourcritters. The last panel is signed hank graves '24. End ID.]

[zombiec4ke]

Can't take my eyes off you....(Part 1)

eyefestation x hard of seeing reader... summary (I suck at making these): as you were charged of a crime that you didn't do you were sent to ###### high security prison on a death row, but you were given a chance to live free of charge if you retrieved a crystal. How was you supposed to know that it would be better to just die? warnings: some swears here and there nothing too bad...yet...

a/n: uhhh so yeah...I made it...yippe?

(Ps y/n is hard of seeing in this fic, not entirely blind they have glasses but without their glasses they're as good as blind, also gn pronouns)

##-##-20##.

you are an inmate of ###### high security prison..

your crimes are irrelevant.

whether or not you were falsely charged is irrelevant.

you have served 93 days of your # year sentence.

Today, three men from Urbanshade Corporation, being escorted by heavily armed guards, arrived at the prison.

They were searching for volunteers to help them retrieve a crystal of sorts, a highly important asset they were unable to secure during a major security breach in one of their facilities.

they stated the risk of death was high but whoever could retrieve the asset return to them would be pardoned release with cleared record and receive ##### in cash

many of your fellow inmates signed up....

you signed up as well

you are expendable....

You are not expected to return...

the submarine hummed softly in the depths, the sound echoing throughout its small surface area

you were the only inmate on the sub, the others....well, uh let's just say they couldn't make it.

So the sub was eerily quiet without the usual chatter and arguing from your cellmates. You leaned your head on the wall letting the cold metal cool the back of your head.

The sub began to ascend, and soon enough it came to a stop, and you heard the creak of a hatch opening, you lifted your head off the wall and headed to the open hatch

as you stepped onto the concrete (?) floor you heard a man from urbshade on a speaker talk about retrieving the crystal blah blah blah ect you didn't really care to listen to the low quality pre recorded message.

you crouched under some boxes and got a key card that goes to the first door and made your way to insert the key card, when a 'click' noise is heard the doors open and shows a room that is very plain besides a few drawers here and there. you walked across the room to door 2.

the next 10 doors nothing really happened...unless you count spending 10 minutes trying to find a damn key card then stuff happened.

door 12 opened to show a hallway like any other but what was different was that the lights started flickering...that confused you, at first you just thought it was electrical problems but then you heard a high pitch scream so you dove in a locker just in time before a...how do you even describe that horrible monster you saw go past from the crack of the locker....

After the coast was clear you walked out the locker and tried to steady your queasy legs that felt like they were going to give out any second...

"What the hell was that...?" you mumble to yourself even though there was no one there besides yourself and maybe 5 cameras pointed at you from all angles

the next 5 doors were the same as through the occasional flicker of lights, although you found the monster to be a bit easier to hide from the more you met it.

it felt weird calling it an 'it' but you didn't want to call it a he if it's actually a she but then again maybe it's nonbinary...do monsters even have genders?!...*cough* ok enough rambling...

*30 doors later ig; I'm already tired and I don't think you wanna hear me talking about going through more doors*

you stood in front of room 47...you felt tired and hungry...when was the last time you ate? slept?? (it's only been 7 hours)

if the monsters didn't kill you then the exhaustion sure will...you took in a deep breath and put the key card in waiting a bit before the door opened annnnddd..

Pitch. Fucking Black.

You sure are glad you found a lantern! Surely there are no monsters that hate light and will hurt you if you flash them with light!

so rather than trying you go through the door just straight through without needing a light you choose to use a your lantern, luck be told there was a damn Squiddle and it lunged at you knocking your glasses off your face

"fuck" you hissed under your breath as you took a step back not noticing you stepped on your glasses until you hear the crunch of glass

"goddammit..." you say as you try and see but the world is a blurry mess...also you're still in the dark-

well this is gonna be fun... a/n: sorry if it's not long I'm going to make a part 2 where stuff really happens so think of this as a prologue or smth like that

[mintmoth]

Your oc's are so cool!! It's such a surreal feeling to get back into a fandom and wake up up find that one of my favorite artists is also there. Say, quick question do you plan on making executions for your oc's or do they survive? Well whatever you do I hope you'll have fun with it and as always remember to be well hydrated and take breaks, I hope your doing well mint.

BXDISBSK OH HELLA!! Also thank you 😭😭 I'm glad you're enjoying my silly dr2 art and my oc planning lmao

Honestly I was originally planning on having only 2 ocs specifically because I wanted one to kill the other in order to maintain the same group of survivors in the end lmao. I'm still trying to fully work out the setup and inevitable execution because the plot writing for dr2 is really tight and well progressed imo, so I feel like adding anything would weaken it-

BUT I'm also just having fun and being silly so I know it doesn't have to be perfect it just needs to let me have fun really lmao

I'll add a readmore but I'll ramble about each of them a little if anyone has any interest

First up is the first one I made, Haruka (forgive all of their basic bitch Japanese names, I can't do the fun wordplay to the level I wish) they're the ultimate ballerina, and by extension also nonbinary kind of feminine leaning androgynous but can be masc if needed because they can do any kind of role required of them for a performance

When they're tossed into the dr2 mix they'd probably be found being a third wheel to the dynamic duo that is Akane and Nekomaru, since they're also technically more athletic and would be stretching and practicing every day. I want to sit down sometime and draw them and Akane engaged in a flexibility battle and Kazuichi walking in on them and screeching because they look so creepy

Haruka is planned to be a murderer and I'll definitely get some drawings out once I flesh out my concepts for their execution more

Next up is Nao! She's the ultimate sharpshooter and yes that is a little vague but it's because this includes bows and such on top of typical guns. Hell, she probably even does well with throwing stuff if there's enough focus

With the dr2 cast she'd be mostly a friend to Ibuki and Kazuichi, their eccentricities are endearing to her, plus if either of them just want to ramble about something they're working on she's gonna listen for hours. Honestly they're such a movie night squad to me. Also post game I feel like she's like a girl in the same way I still see Kazuichi a guy, like in the vaguest terms cuz they're both just Themselves and are gonna have fun with it now since they're apart from society. Ibuki isn't included only since I feel like she'd struggle less, but this is the bi/pan gender fuckery trifecta of the group to me

Oh yeah and Haruka kills her. I've got the death already planned out and ideally I wanna do a cg style emulation for it but idk if I can swing it lmao I'm not very good at style emulation tbh

And last but not least is Tōru. I didn't plan on her existing so idk how I'm gonna get rid of her in time for the end hmm. But she's the ultimate tattoo artist and has the most fleshed out backstory of the three but it's embarrassing and I know it LMAO

Basic run down- and stick with me here- she lives with family that work under the Kuzuryu clan, so she's done a lot of sick yakuza tats, partially because of her skill and mostly because this shit is so good that her tattoos have like, an "aura" that influences the viewer a little. So these dudes have extra intimidating tattoo bullshit going on- BUT ANYWAYS so things start and she can recognize Fuyuhiko and Peko and knows what's up with them, but neither of them have officially met her so she's like "oh thank fuck they have no idea that I know who they are I'm gonna avoid these assholes like the PLAGUE"

But of course that won't hold forever but it just makes me laugh like chapter 3 Fuyuhiko trying desperately to be kinder to everyone like "yeah, maybe I'll see if you're good enough to tattoo me some day" and she's choking on her drink because Haha About That-

But yeah hopefully I can rope one of my friends into having their oc knock her off because I think that would be funny like, getting down on one knee please kill my oc tragically

[rathayibacter]

might as well do a little TDOV promo, esp since ive got some new folks following me. hi, im rath! im a queer nonbinary game designer, and ive written a bunch of ttrpgs!

some quick blurbs under the readmore

BIG PROJECTS: - Disparateum, a game of exploring a city at the crossroads of many worlds. dance through dreams, swordfight your reflection, explore a fractal museum, scale the surface of your own soul, and more! - KATABASIS, fight your way out of a concrete afterlife as you try and return to life. your armor, weapons, and tools are crafted from your emotional baggage, and the monsters and environments youll face are all splintered and confused reflections of the world you're struggling to return to. - [BXLLET>, a post-apocalyptic cowboy game where bullets are your XP, and every shot fired kills your target. has a ton of supplements and reimaginings.

SMALL PROJECTS: - Charcuterie, three zine collections. the first two are compilations of small games ive written and released in various forms, the third is short stories and poetry. messy, weird, barely edited, stuffed with doodles, a lot of fun. - Stationkeeping, a small Animal Crossing-inspired game about renovating a dinky space station, slowly expanding it out and occasionally meeting aliens or other players on their own journeys. played on index cards you carry with you and fill out as you do various things in your life. - Maybe One Day, It'll Be Enough - a game about war gods sentenced to infinite community service for their crimes. played by throwing a ball against a brick wall. for hours. originally released as a tumblr post here. - NOT WEAVERDICE, half a core mechanic for a superhero game, half a ramble about superhero ttrpgs and how to have fun with them. im currently working on a game that expands out this idea, called Unskilled Labor. - MORTAL POP!BAT, a 616-page Funko Pop wargame. yeah, im including it in the small projects category. fuck you. - Wintergreen, an OSR game that fits inside a mint tin. one of my earliest released games, still has some pretty cute ideas.

thanks for checking this all out, it means the world! the last few months have been pretty tight, and every little bit of support really does make a difference. happy trans day of visibility everyone, love yall!

[iwriteasfotini]

Our Love is Written in the Stars

......EVERYONE HAS A STORY......

*I am preparing for lots of links, so bear with the slow process of building this post to be more interactive. And I am still figuring out tumblr formatting.*

The Heir and The Spare - Year One, Sirius POV (25 Chapters, ~109k words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 10/31/24

THATS Quick Stats - Coming 10/28 THATS Synopsis - Coming 10/29 THATS Chapter headings - Coming 10/30 THATS Evergreen Content - Coming sometime after 11/23 THATS Playlist - Coming 11/23

The Prince's Pact - Year Two, Severus POV (25 Chapters, ~122K words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 12/21/24

The Bonds of Friendship - Year Three, James POV (28 Chapters, ~139k words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 2/14/25

The Heart of the Lion - Year Four/Three, Regulus POV (35 chapters, ~171K words) Rating: Mature Posting to Being 4/13/25

What is this series?

**Special Note: I am a parent, I was a teacher, and I want to make sure my content is consumed by audiences of AN APPROPROATE AGE. If you are underage, please do not engage in the stories with Explicit ratings. I am working very hard to offer two versions of certain chapters to make sure this story is as accessible as possible.**

A canonesque Marauders era year by year series spanning 1971-1981 (maybe beyond).

A return to Hogwarts in the 1970's with modern attitudes about sexuality and gender because this is way more fun. Also I'm not getting into muggle racism or politics at all. The magical world has enough problems to tackle.

An exploration of morality and celebration of love.

A culturally expansive look at magical practices around the globe.

A creative delve into the six types of magic (inspired by POS wiki page and Evitative).

A testament to difficult choices in difficult circumstances.

A soul bond concept but not an AU.

A single POV for each installment. I refrain from chapter to chapter shifts.

Culturally diverse cast, plus all six main characters are at least bilingual.

Main Ships

Jegulus (platonic Jily and no Jeguily, if this proclamation stresses you out like it would me read this post.)

Wolfstar

Snily (turbulent, open relationship)

Side Ships

Rosekiller, Dorlene, Dumbledore/Grindelwald, Frank/Alice, Minerva/Poppy

I'm not sharing all the side ships due to spoilers.

Music

This series has two main theme songs, then each book has one/two theme songs. Plus sometimes I have a song attached to a chapter, which means each installment has its own playlist.

>>>Master Playlist<<< (Theme songs only - very short playlist)

>>>Epic Playlist<<< (Every single song in order, really really epic)

I will be sharing all of my playlists from Spotify, but due to spoilers, it won't be until each installment is fully published. Feel free to build your own playlists and please share them with me if you do!

Other things to know:

This story contains a large cast of queer characters who may or may not label themselves. There are also characters who identify as trans and nonbinary. Fair notice, my Regulus is not trans, though I know this is a common HC these days. But maybe with a little imagination you could still HC him as trans? And I'll say it until I'm blue in the face, I know this isn't realistic of the time period. Who cares!

Rating will span Mature to soft Explicit throughout the series with alternate chapters offered for a little more descriptive smut.

Posting will happen daily beginning on the scheduled day and continue at one chapter per day until each installment is complete. Then a few weeks of break between installments, for my sanity and to let people catch up.

Warning: People who have sensitivity to the following themes should approach this work with caution. It gets DARK. I will use trigger warnings by chapter and much of this does not begin until year five or later.

Underage drinking; underage recreational drug use; profanity; domestic abuse; blood; animal harm/death; self harm including attempting suicide; death; violence; grief; psychological abuse; torture; nonconsensual sex/sexual abuse; minor homophobia; sexual content; sexual themes

A final note:

If this sounds like an enticing series to you, please follow me or the tag (#Our Love is Written in the Stars) so you get updates when I start posting. I'm also going to share certain previews on Tumblr. This is a major passion project. I am writing for me 100% but I think some of you might also enjoy it, so I'm going to share.

Thanks for taking the time to read this introduction post. I hope to see you in the comments on AO3. Cheers!

**I do not agree with the original author's personal beliefs.**

**You can't find me on AO3 yet because this series is my first work of fanfiction. But my author name will be fotini.**

[jev-urisk]

Writing thrupples with a 'hinge', from someone who falls asleep in the middle every night.

A hinge thrupple is where two people are dating the same person, but not one another. So, not a triangle.

I don't know any thrupples with a childish Jacob-Edward rivalry over the 3rd person (annoying, overplayed)

I don't know any always lovey-dovey thrupples where the two suitors don't do anything outside constantly showering their 3rd with affection (honestly a bit creepy to me)

I'm bi/pan and nonbinary/fluid. My partners are a big burly cis dude and a tall snarky androgynous lesbian, they're not at all attracted to one another. Sexuality/gender plays a big part in dynamics and what I'm called (one calls me Wife and the other calls me Boyfriend).

Many poly peeps set out with intention to have multiple partners, my situation happened accidentally with some help from my autism. Basically I fell in love with two people like the movies but instead of drama I had an honest conversation and they both agreed to try it out. 🤷

I call both my partners 'babe' which in hindsight maybe I should've used 'hun' for one of them, but it's also so cute when I say babe and have two people turn to me. ❤️ They do have some unique, less appropriate pet names tho.

So so so much communication is needed to make sure you're on the same page as your partners. Google calendar helps, as do chore charts. I have 2 date nights a week, one for each partner. Holiday plans are discussed months ahead of time.

Relationships develop at different speeds! One partner may be ready for a milestone a month in, a different partner may be ready for the same milestone in 4 years.

So many perks! Splitting bills, splitting chores, coordinating when emergencies happen, and VOTING! With 3, the discourse for deciding anything from what to eat to what color to paint a room is SO much quicker.

I think the biggest difficulty was getting over my fear that I was doing something wrong, that I was selfishly drawing 2 people into something that would end in heartbreak. I was also afraid my partners wouldn't get along. 😵‍💫

Minor difficulties include deciding who to take for events that are +1 only, remembering who we've come out to, and getting crushed in the middle of the night when both partners roll towards the center of the bed where I sleep. 🪦

I can only be legally married to 1 partner where I live, but my other partner hates the idea of doing joint taxes so 😂 when we have a wedding one day, we're going to get legal permissions to, say, visit me in the hospital when I'm dying and call it good.

Yes, I can have another wedding and it will be just as beautiful and symbolic as the one that included legal paperwork.

Only two people can be on a marriage certificate, but three people can be on a mortgage! We've jointly owned a house for almost a year and a half and it's been so much work but so nice to have our privacy.

My partners get jealous of one another, that's normal. They know to communicate that feeling with me so I can give them some 1 on 1 time or special attention.

If me and one of my partners are struggling in our relationship, I DONT vent to my other partner and just give a basic 'I'm working through something with X right now'. I know too many polycules that have become a drama mosh-pit. 😓

My partners can be friends, or lovers, or simple acquaintances but THEY decide that and I don't push them to do anything except communicate when needed. My partners are introverts and it's taken years for them to build up their platonic relationship lol

Yes, I do occasionally get double-teamed in sexy ways (less than you'd think). 90% of the double-teaming I get is both of them calling me short or agreeing that I'm cute when I'm angy about trivial things, though. 😾

My partners now consider each other metamores, friends, and team-mates. My lesbian partner calls my male partner their 'husband in-law' sometimes, particularly when they want something from him.

Sometimes my partners bicker and I think it's cute bc it means they've become very comfortable with each other. If they have an actual issue I just encourage them to talk about it/I don't try to fix it for them.

We generally live a comfy, laid-back life and do all the mundane things you'd expect of mid-twenties to early-thirties folk- raising two dogs, fixing the sink, caving and ordering taco bell, forgetting to make that appointment, griping about the economy, bringing home plants, watching birds fight over the bird feeder, and sleeping in on the weekends. We just do it with 3. ☘️

Extra note: Polygamy is a term used in religious and male-centric plural partner situations. We use polyamory, polyfidelity, harem (jokingly), and thrupple to describe ourselves. Maybe some use polygamy and like it, but where we live (Utah) the term is generally reserved for fundentalist mormons.

There's probably a lot more to say, so maybe this is just a part 1. Feel free to ask me questions or comment with your own hinge experience (or tell me about your thrupple ocs)!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Bro. Broooo. Bro. Gimme top!janis x Switch!reader with dom/sub dynamics, with Janis calling reader her pet + Secretly making out at a halloween party that Aaron threw. Bonus points if they flrt in public but never make out in punlic so there are rumours abt them pls plspls pls i need i i am OBSESSED with janis as a top pls

Closet Hookups

|| Janis Imi'ike x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; drunk reader and Janis, make out session, use of the word "pet", swearing, slightly in the future

|| Summary; there were rumours about Janis and reader being a thing, after getting caught at a Halloween party those rumours are confirmed.

Requests open!

Started; September 13th

Finished; September 14th

~~~

The bell ring, signalling the end of your classes for the day. With a heavy sigh you made your way down the halls and to your locker. Which was next to your girlfriend's. Janis.

You twisted around the numbers on your lock until it reached your combination and pulled it open, taking out the stuff you needed. Instrument, art supplies and a rolled up work in progress science project. Leave it to grade 10 to give you a stupid amount of projects.

Just as you were about to close your locker; you felt an arm wrap around your midriff and shuddered, instinctively tensing only to hear Janis' voice whisper against your ear. "Just me, babe."

You relaxed and looked back at her, kissing her cheek," maybe a bit of a warning, yeah?"

She laughed and gave you a playful nudge," did I scare ya?"

"No you d-"

"Boo!" Janis said suddenly, which made you flinch and she laughed again. Giving you a quick kiss," Yes I did." You rolled your eyes, unamused by her antics.

"Anyway, ya coming to the Halloween party? Aaron and Cady are throwing one tonight." She asked as she followed you down the hall towards the buses.

"Asking me to be your plus one, Imi'ike?" You teased, she only grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Maybe I am, depends on if you say yes."

"Then, yes."

"Tits." Janis smiled at you, making you roll your eyes as she gave your cheek a kiss before waving goodbye. You waved back and boarded your bus.

When you got home from school, you took out your costume. Making sure you had all your accessories before putting it on. You had decided to go as a slutty Vampire, which made you feel a little more exposed than what you were used to but you felt good.

Half way through doing your makeup you received a text from Janis, so you grabbed your phone and opened it.

Babygirl; heyy! need a ride in? i can pick you up at seven

You smiled at her offer and texted back, knowing Janis had only just recently gotten her full license.

You; as much as i love you, idk if i trust your driving skills yet

Babygirl; 😦 ive never been more offended

You; lmaoo im sorry baby, besides i can walk. cady's literally like ten houses down from me

Babygirl; fine 😔

You laughed a little at her dramatic reactions and set your phone down, finishing up the rest of your look and doing a once over to make sure everything was picture perfect. Then you had a mini photoshoot in front of your body mirror because of course. Gotta get those gram pics.

Soon enough, it was seven. So you headed on down to Cady's house, getting there around the same time as Janis and Damian. You noticed that Damian seemed to be a little spooked as you walked over.

"We survived. Oh my God, sweet grass." He said as he laid down across the grass, you raised an eyebrow and Janis rolled her eyes.

"He's being fucking dramatic. Ignore him." Janis stated, Damian gasped and looked her.

"Nuh huh, girl your driving nearly killed us. I don't know how they passed you on that test." Damian replied, sitting up.

You burst out laughing, covering your hand with your mouth," Man I'm glad I didn't go with y'all."

"Oh, whatever." Janis huffed and headed inside, the two of you following after.

The three of you met up with Cady, Aaron and the others (being the plastics). All of you became friends over the summer after last years insanity. Everyone, including yourselves, were surprised by that.

"Oh my Gosh, you guys made it!!" Cady ran over and gave Janis a hug, you gave an awkward smile and wave.

"We nearly didn't because of someone." Damian looked and pointed at Janis, who gave his arm a light slap.

"Cut it out, Damian."

Cady and Aaron laughed at that.

"Is she that bad?" Aaron asked.

"Worse." Damian nodded.

"Oh my god, I'm not listening to this. You, come." Janis grabbed you by your arm and dragged you to the kitchen, you easily followed.

There she got a drink for the both of you and handed you yours before taking a drink of her own.

The night went on pretty smoothly, you and Janis getting more and more drunk with each cup. By the time you both hit your fifth drink you were stumbling over each other and giggling as Janis brought you into the closet.

"Shh,' You whispered through quiet laughs," they'll hear us."

Janis chuckled and gave you a soft kiss, pulling you closer to her as she worked to get your blazer and button up off.

She broke the kiss, the usual dominant look back in her eyes as she scanned your body with a smirk," you're the one giggling. If they catch us it will be your fault."

"Heyy," You pouted, both of you were talking in slurred speeches. The alcohol hitting the both of you hard. You a little more so than Janis.

Janis covered her hand over your mouth," Quiet, pet~" She whispered in a sultry tone. You huffed and took her hand off your mouth, placing your own hand to the back of her neck and pulling her in for a bruising kiss.

Meanwhile, everyone else was wondering where the two of you had gotten to. Before you disappeared Gretchen had been keeping an eye on you and Janis, considering how drunk the two of you were. She was the first to notice your absence.

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N or Janis? I've been looking for them but haven't found either," Gretchen said as she regrouped with the others.

Regina raised an eyebrow and smirked," How funny would it be if they were off making out?"

"Regina." Cady rolled her eyes and pushed through the group, scanning the bunches of dancing people for any sign of you or Janis.

"I'll check upstairs, knowing Y/n and their alcohol tolerance they're probably in the bathroom and janis got dragged along" Damian said, walking off in that direction.

Cady nodded and headed off to the halls, looking around. She passed the closet and heard something get knocked over, then voices. Which sounded like yours and Janis'. She paused and took a few steps back until she was in front of the door. Maybe Regina was right...

She knocked then opened the door, finding the two of you trying to separate from your tangled mess. You had reached for your shirt and completely fallen over top a mop bucket while Janis was laughing her ass off at your clumsiness.

Cady gasped and blushed deeply. Yup, Regina was definitely right. "I'm sorry- we were just- oh God-"

Janis looked at Cady," give us a minute." She closed the door, leaving Cady stunned in the hall as Damian came over to her.

"I found them.." Cady mumbled, Damian looked at the closet and gasped.

"No," He said in a dramatized tone.

A few moments later you and Janis stumbled out, back in your outfits. Some of your buttons were messed up and Janis' hair was out of place. You both had sheepish grins on your faces as you looked at your friend group. Who had all come over by now.

"Called it," Regina said, holding her hand out to Aaron who rolled his eyes and handed her a $10. "Thank you very much." Regina smirked and pocketed the bill.

"We're dating," You announced.

Damian nodded, "You know, I figured."

"Wow, rumours were right." Gretchen said.

Karen was the most surprised out of everyone, she really had no idea whereas everyone else had at least some idea," oh my Gosh. Congrats!!!"

You and janis looked at each other with a soft look in your eyes. You were glad they finally knew, it felt wrong keeping it from them.