#kyoya is more of a black parade person i think

[eurydicees]

rip kyoya ootori so sad you're fictional you would have secretly loved gerard way in a cheerleader uniform

[ko-fanatic]

To Be A Princess: The Prince To The Rescue (part one)

Rating: Teen and up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club, Princess Jellyfish AU (sort of)

Character(s): Kyoya Ootori, Haruhi Fujioka

Pairing(s): (Eventual) KyoHaru

Trigger Warnings: Gender dysphoria, anxiety

Summary: "Tokyo seemed to be a land full of princesses. Every time he entered some new street, beautiful girls wore their own princess dresses, smiling and radiant with joy. It was inspiring, intoxicating, and he... was jealous. Sure, boys could be princes, but... It wasn't the same. Princes weren't the ones who caught eyes with pearls, diamonds and the tulle that would float and glide as if enchanted..."

Kyoya finally meets the prince to their princess.

Little girls get told by their mothers that, when they grow up, they'll be princesses. Their hair is brushed and styled - whether it be twisted into adorable plaits or pinned into sweet up-dos. They wear the prettiest dresses, sequins and glitter shinning as they catch the light, lace embellishments that make them squeal for joy. Princess dresses may change for them over the years, but it's an introduction. It's learning that all those gems and lace and big labels will one day be all theirs.

Tokyo seemed to be a land full of princesses. Every time he entered some new street, beautiful girls wore their own princess dresses, smiling and radiant with joy. It was inspiring, intoxicating, and he... was jealous. Sure, boys could be princes, but... It wasn't the same. Princes weren't the ones who caught eyes with pearls, diamonds and the tulle that would float and glide as if enchanted.

So, in that situation, there was two things he could do. He could stew in this resentment and jealousy, becoming more bitter and angry about society's gender roles while doing nothing to challenge them. However, the better solution was to put on a wig, some makeup, and a skirt - to just have fun! If he wanted to be a princess, then he was going to; and he didn't care if anyone had an issue with it because this was who he was!

Or... That was the theory. If it really played out the way he thought it would, he wouldn't be hiding behind a light brown – almost blonde – wig and dark sunglasses, a small tremor along his shoulders when his mind would slip back into the cycle of "what if Akito finds out, what if dad finds out, this was a really bad idea..."

Because... It was. He was an Ootori, and so every decision he made had to be thought through completely, but here he was. Imagine the scandal it would cause, imagine how disappointed everyone would be...

Kyoya pressed a hand to his gloss-sticky lips, stomach flipping over and over again as his pessimistic imagination laid all the worst-case scenarios out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped his other arm around his torso, feeling rather sick at the thought of the anger he could be met with over this. What if he was disowned? What if his own brother hated him?

No. No, Fuyumi wouldn't let them. The worst he'd get from her would be her making him into a dress-up doll, and that could actually be fun. She wouldn't let Akito do or say anything cruel... But she had no control over their father...

What was he doing, really? Acting like some sort of Okama and parading around in some stupid Lolita getup. It made him feel like a princess in his bedroom - in private - but now it just felt ridiculous. Pink lace and bows and everything a boy shouldn't be. He shouldn't be wearing this so openly, why did he even try?

He blinked hard, swallowing down the acidic bile that burned the back of his throat. He wasn't going to abandon his determination over this. He wasn't going to get upset and panic over something that wouldn't even happen. He wanted to feel happy in himself for a little while, not wanting to tear his too-small skin off his face and body. He'd felt good in himself not long ago, so he was just going to avoid overthinking.

He took a breath and held his head high as he strode down the busy streets, heals clicking and hips swaying. He was beautiful, he was worth this feeling of warm, comfortable confidence that gave him that extra bounce in his step. A little break, maybe to pet the cats in the pet shop across the street, and then his mind might actually cooperate with him. He just needed to detach himself from those pesky thoughts.

The shop had a little bell above the door, the stereotypical ring crisp and melodic, despite being somewhat drowned by barking, mewls and the other sounds of small animals. The mice, he noted, were particularly verbal despite their small size. He had to bite back a chuckle at the thought of how similar they were to his father, who might not have been particularly short, but was still out-grown by all his children. He was probably louder than the mice when the situation called for it, however.

“Good afternoon, miss,” The employee behind the counter nodded, low and quiet but still heard, and Kyoya couldn’t help but blush. His heart was fluttering in his chest at the… well, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the polite, respectful tone such a handsome man had given him, or the confirmation that he didn’t look like a skinny, too-lanky man playing dress-up.

“Afternoon,” He nodded in return, a smile on his lips and his voice as light and airy as he could make it. It did sound strained, a bit put on, but it would hopefully just be taken as a girl trying to match her voice to her look. After all, some girls talked in third person and put on high, squeaky voices in the pursuit of sounding young and cute, so it didn’t make him stand out too much.

He should really stop overthinking this.

His heels were a little too loud on the tile floors, or perhaps he just stepped too clumsily, but he carried on despite how it made him self-conscious. Everything about his clothes, his hair, his makeup, screamed “LOOK AT ME!” when in reality he just wanted to slip by unnoticed.

A vile smell caught his nose, and he grimaced. A small, black cat mewled quietly, curled on its side, the poor thing’s crate stained with vomit. He should call over the employee, but he didn’t trust his voice to stay at a tone appropriately “feminine”. But still, if he said nothing, would the cat’s distress get noticed soon? In an hour? In five?

The small cat let out another, pained sounding noise, and Kyoya decided that he’d much rather prevent it from suffering any longer.

“Um, sir!” He called, waving over the young man, who obliged almost immediately, "The kitten there, it’s really sick."

The man wrinkled his nose at the smell, sending Kyoya what he assumed was a grateful look, scooping the small thing up in his large hands. It was almost ridged, and Kyoya could see for himself how sick it was. "I really hope it's not what I think it is..." The man muttered, and Kyoya's heartbeat quickened - he always did have a soft-spot for cats, "I can't take him to the vet without the owner's permission, but he's not here today."

"But he's really sick," Kyoya breathed, the restraint he'd cultivated slipping away, as if he'd stripped it away with the labels he always felt forced into: "Ootori" and "Boy". The man gave him a sympathetic look, patting the little cat's head. It was then that Kyoya really noticed their height difference. At just under six foot, not many Japanese men were taller than him, but the employee dwarfed him. He had a good few inches on him, at least.

Still, the situation meant that he shouldn't be focusing on trivialities like that.

"Kids," The employee sighed, "You have to watch them very closely when they're handling animals, because they don't understand. You'd think the parents would stop them, but... Well, I think the little one might've been given some chocolate... He really should go to the vet..."

Now, if Kyoya was insane and impulsive, he'd buy the kitten and take it to a vet himself. However, he wasn't allowed a pet, and Akito was allergic to cat dander. It wasn't even like he could hide it; Akito's sneezing and swollen eyes would certainly give it all away. However, the cat should be seen by a vet...

"Why don't you just buy the cat, you obviously like him," A voice intoned, which almost made Kyoya jump. He turned to see a boy at the counter, a bag of dog food by the till and his shaggy, brunette hair in his face. Ugly, but cute jumper swaddling his slender body, and those thick frames hiding his eyes; it made Kyoya almost feel bare, pushing up his sunglasses as if that would shield himself from prying eyes.

"I can't take in a cat, my brother's allergic," He sighed, running a hand through the synthetic strands of the wig, "Expenses, I can cover. But without being able to keep him at my house..."

The boy tilted his head in thought, sizing the situation up, and Kyoya just felt so embarrassed. He shouldn't be making such a fuss, it was just a cat. It wasn't like he was given any reason to care. He should just apologise for bothering them and go, forget about the damn cat.

He might've too, if it hadn't of been for the pitiful meow he gave, looking up at Kyoya with large eyes that just made him want to scoop the poor thing up. He wasn't supposed to act like this, like he wasn't supposed to wear dresses and wigs and makeup. Everything was wrong, and there was an itch under the skin of his forearms that he couldn't scratch. It was idiotic, getting so upset over a stupid cat -

"If you like, my flat allows animals. We already have a dog, but if she can get along with the cat then she can stay," The boy offered, and Kyoya was genuinely shocked at the offer. After all, it was certainly a generous one. He'd offer to pay for everything, of course, and he'd always wanted a cat... Or, maybe this guy was only offering because he thought he was a cute, teary-eyed girl with a big heart. Still, if it meant the issues would be solved…

“Are you sure? That’s quite a commitment for someone you don’t know…” He pointed out, but the boy just nodded, “Uh… Thank you…”

“No problem,” The boy nodded, “I’m Haruhi by the way. Haruhi Fujioka.”

A/N: I'm leaving any possible gender identity of Kyoya's up to the reader. You're all valid, and I'm not sure if even Kyoya knows for sure. Have fun!