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This is a REALLY old transfemme lucy fic I wrote, but I didn't really want it to go to waste, so here it is :) Note that it is poorly written and a few of my headcanons may have changed since the writing of this.
It's really short, completely SFW, and I can't think of any TWs that would apply (please tell me if there's anything I misses, though). Please enjoy <33
He/him/his: the most dreaded words in the world, to Lucy Maud Montgomery.
⌒⌒
He/him/his: the most dreaded words in the world, to Lucy Maud Montgomery. Even if she hadn't been referred to by them since her days in the orphanage, before she joined The Guild, the thought of being known as them again always caused bile to rise in her throat.
She began questioning her identity at a young age. She remembered standing in front of a bedroom mirror in nothing but undergarments after a haircut she had when she was about eight years of age. She felt... "icky", as she would describe the feeling to her imaginary friends.
She often stood in front of the mirror before she dressed, her eyelids red and swollen from minutes of purely tears and sobs, dreading the day ahead of her for a plethora of reasons.
She didn't understand why she felt the way she did for a long while. She didn't know that the icky, disgusted, and dreadful feeling she had whenever she looked at her body weren't strange, weren't something that made her vile, strange, or freakish, until she was just over fourteen years of age.
She discovered the term 'transgender' on the internet, and she almost instantly felt a sense if closure when she read the definition for the first time. She wasn't alone in despising her natural body and attributes, she wasn't alone in loathing what the world said she was, what she wasn't. She was just as glad when she discovered the term 'pansexual': sexuality without any care for your partner's sex or gender.
But then, she realised the mockery wasn't exclusive to the orphanage. People like her, born physically male, female, or intersex, people who liked the same gender, both, none at all, or any other who didn't fit under the term 'heterosexual' were heavily discriminated against because of who they were.
She didn't understand it at all: "why are people cruel to others for something they had no control over?" she often thought. She'd never understood why you could be cruel to others, for reasons such as those.
But, ah, people. They're often cruel, distasteful creatures. Though at times, they can be accepting and kind.
When Lucy joined the guild in her mid teens, she was was quite surprised when her coworkers were respectful of her thoughts. The first to be told of her fellow members was Louisa.
The younger girl was strangely calm when Lucy told her about her feelings, her thoughts. Alcott suggested that Lucy should tell Fitzgerald, when she was comfortable, so he could perhaps fund or at least help her in the process of getting on HRT, and getting surgeries, if she wanted them.
Lucy, of course, did tell Fitzgerald and her other coworkers eventually. She was happy to find that many of her other coworkers were queer, such as Poe and Alcott, or allies to the community, such as Fitzgerald and Melville.
People often say to make a house a home, and that's just what Lucy did. She made her body feel as though it was truly her own.
his post; “hs au javey where Davey (in a fit of frustration and sensory nightmares) takes off his shirt in the changing room during phys ed (…) cue jack stepping into the room right as davey's shirt comes off and immediately turning the other direction because oh my god is it disrespectful he's so fine fuck am I meant to look is it okay to look does he have abs????
and davey's like 'hey .... jack .....'
and jacks like 'IMSOSORRYWAITNOIDIDNYMEANIJUSTTHOUGHT' and Davey has to physically take a step back (…)”
Fuckin… gotta get this damn shirt off, the tag is fuckin scratchy and- I need this off Davey let out an annoyed hiss as he scrambled to get his shirt off in the empty locker room.
The PE teacher was yelling at the earlier class to finish their laps, and Davey was plugging his ears as not to overwhelm himself more. Unfortunately, taking off a shirt with your fingers in your ears is a surprisingly difficult task.
Davey finally unplugged his ears for less than a second, basically ripping his shirt off in that time. As he threw the fabric off of him and over his head, he let out a sigh of relief and stretched his spine, reaching towards the ceiling.
He picked up his shirt off the dirty changing room floor, holding it as though he was scared of it. He looked around, coming down from the overstimulation, and noticed he was still alone. He could still hear the gym teacher yelling at the last class, and he didn’t want to subject himself to the berating he’d surely get for forgetting his PE shirt in the boys locker room.
He sighed and grabbed his phone, clicking “Jack Kelly” in his contacts.
The phone rang twice before his friend picked up, and Davey whispered into the mic; “Hey jack, sorry no time for formalities, can you grab my shirt from the locker room? My lockers D122, the code is 5-41-17, thank you bye!” He spoke quickly, then hung up.
Jack was confused, but complied. He grabbed the mentioned athletic shirt from Davey’s locker, going to the stalls to hand it to him.
“Davey?” He asked. No reply.
He thought he should check the changing room, but didn’t really suspect Davey would be in there.
As he turned the corner of the changing room, his eyes widened at the sight. There Davey sat, shirtless and gnawing at his nails anxiously. Jack didn’t notice the first bit until he was walking towards Davey and pulling his hand away from his lips gently.
“Dave, we talked about this-“ he paused, blushing “uh. Uh, where’s your shirt?” He asked awkwardly.
“Oh, sorry. Can I have it?” Davey asked
Jack was preoccupied, noting every detail on Davey. He had abs. That was very much something Jack wouldn’t expect from Davey. “Er- yeah, sure.” He was still staring at Daveys abs as he spoke, accidentally dropping the shirt in his stupor.
“Fuck, sorry. Just- Just, you’re like… really built.” He blurted out, picking up the shirt and handing it to Davey.
Davey stood up to pull on the shirt, giving jack a short-lived sight of him. Davey was moderately confused at jacks comment, but laughed it off.
“Mhm- uh, I’m gonna… I have homework, or, uh, bye.” Jack mumbled, flustered from the experience and sprinting out of the room.
Later, in Jacks room “studying”
“He had abs! I’m telling you, he’s just-“ jack let out a pathetic scream as he rambled to his friends, Kathrine and Crutchie.
“We know you’re hopelessly in love. But did you have to stare at him for that long? God, you’re absolutely simping for that man.” Katherine rolled her eyes. Crutchie nodded in agreement.
“I’m not- I’m not whatever that word was! I’m just impressed, is all. He’s not the type’a guy I’d expect to have a fucking 6-pack.” Jack muttered.
“Just get some balls and ask him out already. Who knows, you could be seeing him shirtless in a different setting.” Crutchie said suggestively.
“Asking people out is scary! Especially Davey. He prolly has a girlfriend.” Jack replied defensively.
“No? He’s gay. And single. And what are you? Gay and single. Match made in heaven. Ask him out, ditwad.” Katherine commented.
“Maybe.” Jack said simply.
“Yes.” Crutchie responded.
“Yes.” Katherine added.
“Maybe.” Jack repeated.
“Two months, then we tell him ourselves.” Katherine comprimised
“Four months.” Jack demanded
“Three and you ask him out if we have to tell him for you.” Crutchie butted in.
“Fine.” Jack relented
“Mhm.” Katherine nodded calmly.
(End fic)
The first clue Ankh's possession had Changed Things was something anybody would miss. The balcony and windows of the Izumi apartment, Shingo’s car, favourite spot to eat lunch, etc. Japan was a clean place and bird droppings are only something you notice when they’re present.
The second clue was odd, but a bird attacking the robber Shingo had been chasing through the park- well it was close to nesting season- the conclusion anyone would come to is that the robber came too close to the bird’s nest. Between the adrenaline of the chase, cuffing the man, and the planning of the paperwork ahead, well, no-one ever thought to wonder why Shingo was exempt form the bird’s attack.
The third clue however, couldn’t be ignored or explained away.
It had been a long day, the latest in a sequence of long days, and it would be a long night as well. Shingo had not only missed lunch, but dinner as well, and wouldn’t be getting a break anytime soon to let him rectify the problem. A situation he lamented about out loud.
He found out that he had been overheard by more than his coworkers when not long after he spoke, a Tokyo raven- those eerily clever, oversized urban corvids- dropped off a bag of senbei, sold by a vending machine only few blocks away.
What if Ankh's title "King of the Birds" actually had some weight to it? With the King dead, the guy the King ended up posessing for a year seems as fitting a candidate for Regent until the King's ressurection right?
Honestly, even for a throw-away one-shot, I'm not that happy with this. Really needs a beta or co-author to punch it up I think.
This is a REALLY old transfemme lucy fic I wrote, but I didn't really want it to go to waste, so here it is :) Note that it is poorly written and a few of my headcanons may have changed since the writing of this.
It's really short, completely SFW, and I can't think of any TWs that would apply (please tell me if there's anything I misses, though). Please enjoy <33
He/him/his: the most dreaded words in the world, to Lucy Maud Montgomery.
⌒⌒
He/him/his: the most dreaded words in the world, to Lucy Maud Montgomery. Even if she hadn't been referred to by them since her days in the orphanage, before she joined The Guild, the thought of being known as them again always caused bile to rise in her throat.
She began questioning her identity at a young age. She remembered standing in front of a bedroom mirror in nothing but undergarments after a haircut she had when she was about eight years of age. She felt... "icky", as she would describe the feeling to her imaginary friends.
She often stood in front of the mirror before she dressed, her eyelids red and swollen from minutes of purely tears and sobs, dreading the day ahead of her for a plethora of reasons.
She didn't understand why she felt the way she did for a long while. She didn't know that the icky, disgusted, and dreadful feeling she had whenever she looked at her body weren't strange, weren't something that made her vile, strange, or freakish, until she was just over fourteen years of age.
She discovered the term 'transgender' on the internet, and she almost instantly felt a sense if closure when she read the definition for the first time. She wasn't alone in despising her natural body and attributes, she wasn't alone in loathing what the world said she was, what she wasn't. She was just as glad when she discovered the term 'pansexual': sexuality without any care for your partner's sex or gender.
But then, she realised the mockery wasn't exclusive to the orphanage. People like her, born physically male, female, or intersex, people who liked the same gender, both, none at all, or any other who didn't fit under the term 'heterosexual' were heavily discriminated against because of who they were.
She didn't understand it at all: "why are people cruel to others for something they had no control over?" she often thought. She'd never understood why you could be cruel to others, for reasons such as those.
But, ah, people. They're often cruel, distasteful creatures. Though at times, they can be accepting and kind.
When Lucy joined the guild in her mid teens, she was was quite surprised when her coworkers were respectful of her thoughts. The first to be told of her fellow members was Louisa.
The younger girl was strangely calm when Lucy told her about her feelings, her thoughts. Alcott suggested that Lucy should tell Fitzgerald, when she was comfortable, so he could perhaps fund or at least help her in the process of getting on HRT, and getting surgeries, if she wanted them.
Lucy, of course, did tell Fitzgerald and her other coworkers eventually. She was happy to find that many of her other coworkers were queer, such as Poe and Alcott, or allies to the community, such as Fitzgerald and Melville.
People often say to make a house a home, and that's just what Lucy did. She made her body feel as though it was truly her own.