Hermitcraft one-shots

Not my name

Before we get this show on the road I would like to say that this fic isn't by me, it's by my lovely girlfriend Amberangle965. So none of this is mine! I'm only publishing it.

Alright with that out of the way, let's start! 

Desiree was a lot of things. Part snake? Yep. Cold-blooded? Mhm. A Watcher for one of, if not the best world out there? Definitely. A girl? Not so much. Sure, she was ok with she/her pronouns, but if she was a girl, then why did he/him sound so much better? She hates the lumps on her chest and the parts down below, but that couldn't possibly mean anything, right?

It was a normal day, or so she thought. She was having to go to HQ for a report today, sadly Abbie wasn't there or she'd do it for her, but that's not what was off. So many people making small comments about her. Her. Her. Using the pronoun that, while she was normally ok with, for some reason just... set her off today.

She got to the office she had to report to, and there looked to be a new person at the desk. She tried to put her papers down, having done a bit of paperwork on the side to be given to the lady at the desk. "Here ya go, ma'am."

"Sir." the lady, apparently gentleman, stated firmly. "Oh s-ssorry ssir, y-you just looked a bit femi-" The man at the desk quickly cut her off, "Feminine? Yeah I get that a lot. I'm trans." He spoke so calmly, a smooth southern drawl being an extra addition to his tone. He sounded so confident in his identity. "How... how are you so sure? Aren't you... ashamed?" Desiree questioned. "I just do, ok? I was just born in the wrong body. Nothing to be ashamed about. Why do you ask?" The receptionist tilted his head to the side in question. "I was- I was told that people like us- like you, should be a-ahamed. That it'sss not- not normal, that something wasss w-wrong in the head with transs people." She stuttered out, praying to the high order that he didn't catch the small 'us' that was said. Or her lisp, she didn't need anyone to point that out at the moment. Desiree wasn't trans. She couldn't be. Notta chance. Zero, zilch, none. "Sweetie?" He spoke in a soft voice, southern accent dripping in his words. "Who told you this, sweetheart?"

"My fami-family." She said quietly, her arms tucked into her chest, a nervous tick she gained when she was 7. He sighed "They're wrong, honey. Oh so very wrong. I'm trans and I'm proud. I know who I am, and identity is nothing to be shameful about."

"R-really?"

"Mhm. No shame here, mister." She said the last part a bit slower, as if he was testing the waters. Mister. Why did that spark the flame to the rigorous fire growing in Dee's chest? That word. That one word. It made Dee want to latch on and never let go. It made happiness well in their stomach. That one word that changed everything.

"Thank you..." Dee said quietly, "T-that sounded really nice." They looked up, eyes locking with the kind man in front of them. "What did, sweetpea?" The gentleman questioned. "Um... th-that lasst part..." They looked down at their arms still tucked, as if trying to protect their very heart.

"Good. That's what I wanted to know. How about we exchange contact info, yeah? What's your name?"

"D-Desiree Ce-Ceita. Yo-you?"

"Liam Lockhart. Here," He reaching under his desk and pulling out a bag that had been hidden from view, reaching in and removing something from it, "take this, and don't worry about giving anything back." He handed Dee a small envelope and zipped his bag back up, stashing it back where it once was. "Now, go back to your world before you get behind schedule."

Dee pocketed the small envelope with a "thank you" before turning around to walk out of the small receptionist office. Once she was far enough away she started running to get to their world.