I don't have "gender" i have fantastical archetypes i embody. i pick them out in the morning like socks. some popular ones are
knight in shining armor with demonic wings hidden behind my back
paladin of light with tired eyes, washing the blood off my sword (they tell me to bite and i do)
princess with knives strapped to my thighs
witch
witch's cat
ancient dragon with a wise but lethal gaze, scales glinting in the light
awkward vampire letting love in again for the first time in centuries
a tiny fairy wearing a strawberry as a hat
daughter of a farmer who falls asleep in a haystack in the barn with a cowboy hat covering my face and an ear of wheat hanging from my mouth (time is always still yet somehow I don't fit into my old overalls anymore)
little boy making friends with a big, kind robot as we figure out who we want to be in the world
merchant in the woods who sells obscure artifacts in exchange for secrets (you only notice I'm behind you when i bite into an apple and make a show of smiling wide, opening my arms and bowing)
a guy in a tavern tossing a coin and catching it with a calm smirk
cat
archivist with big glasses that slide down my nose and knows the abandoned library like the back of my hand (we've been cast aside for so long ā both the place and i. what was my name?)
mermaid whose hair color cannot be defined (it shifts so quickly, like waves, gone as soon as you look at it. you cannot catch me. when you think you have me, i am already slipping)
forgotten, ancient beast, slumbering on the bottom of the ocean (i stir.)
a childhood friend from the village whose face you cannot remember (but my warmth lived on in your heart so it's okay. i promise)
a kind teacher with power slipping out from under my skin (i keep smiling like it's on purpose but I'm terrified of what will come out of me once i break)
just a little guy. a dude. a buddy.
a nymph hugging a talking tree
the talking tree (come. rest on my roots. tell me your stories. what a beautiful creature you are. let me listen to you.)
