(Okay, so I'm falling out of the fandom. It's really toxic right now. This is an incomplete fic because of that. I'm sorry it couldn't be finished. But here's the beginning. If you want to use this for your own stuff or to finish it, do that.)
(here we go)
Trans!Emile(you can make him genderfluid if you want)
Mentions of Patcani and Parental
This was supposed to be a songfic, but I didn't know how to incorporate the song into the story well. Just listen to the song while reading anyway.
I have a few friends at school who think that you need to have 'experimented' to be bisexual.
Fuck them.
TW: Implications of r*pe, toxic masculinity, transphobia.
"E-Emily?"
She looked up at the sound of her name, "Yes? Do you need somethin'?"
"Hi, Emily. I'm Emile. Emile Picani. You don't remember me, I knew you when you were younger." Emile started to tremble. He was talking with his past self.
Why did wishes on shooting stars always come true?
*Previous night*
"Papa! Look! A shooting star!" His son, Virgil, pointed up at the night sky, "my wish came true last time, and Daddy too. It's your turn now!"
"Okay."
He looked back up at the sky, closed his eyes, and wished.
He wished that he had a way to tell his younger self about the troubles of life.
And now here he was, talking with himself, or herself, he didn't really know how to explain it.
"Why are you wearing a pink tie? Pink is for girls!"
"Well you're not wearing any pink, so why is it a girl color?"
"I don't like pink. Or girly stuff." She crossed her arms over her chest and shot a disgusted look at the barbies that lay in the corner of her playroom.
Emile looked up at the barbies and only then realized where he was.
He was in his old playroom, it was painted purple with white trim. There was a dollhouse in one of the corners and there were a few barbies with close-cropped hair and Ken-doll clothes. The lipstick looked like it had been rubbed off (probably nail-polish remover)
"Mommy says I'm not supposed to do that to the dollies," Emily said. She had noticed where his gaze had landed, "They're supposed to have nice, long hair, and wear dresses."
She looked up at him, "Am I gettin' in trouble again?
"No, no you're not. Why would you be getting in trouble?" He already knew the answer to that, but knew that it's better to talk things out than have the silence of knowing.
"I'm a bad girl. Mommy says I should keep my dress on," she gestured to where it lay on the floor, "I'm supposed to look pretty for the big guys that come."
Wait, what day was it? Emile looked up at the Disney princess calendar that hung on the wall. It was a Friday.
Shit.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
He had to get her out of here before they-Did things.
This is the end. Goodbye Sanders Sides fandom. I hope things get better. I wish you luck on all of your journeys.