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stilemawillow · 4 years

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Fairy Tale NOT Like [Levi | Reader]

Sequel: Romantic? More Like NO

Levi felt just so irritated.

Firstly Hanji had to break his favourite set of tea cups in the morning just because 'I had to take Eren's sample to the office as fast as possible!' Yeah, as if that would magically ressurect his precious china.

Then Eren fucking Jaeger just had to go and make a tantrum about not being invited to the ball that was to be held tonight in the near palace. And from where the fuck did he even know about the ball? That kid had enough problems, he shouldn't have acted like a witty girl just because he got no annoying velvety piece of shit in front of his door at six fucking in the morning. Then after he calmed the teen down, he had to go and do the usual training session with the cadets. Fair enough it seemed.

It was followed by a good time of afternoon tea and then he planned to do some paperwork, rest, maybe even visit town and buy himself some tea or even a new broom because the old one was getting worn out. However, Erwin fucking Smith just had to ruin his peaceful alone time, burst his bubble and tell him he had to go to tonight's ball. He had to look pretty and talk politely and blah, blah, blah. The reason? Levi had no fucking idea.

So now he was here - dressed in a tux with a bouquet of flowers for who damn knows - walking down the streets of the town square because he got partly lost on his way to the palace. Just great. This wasn't how his evening should’ve been spent.

If he was lucky he could’ve been reading a book in the mess hall just near the fireplace with no brats around because it would be after curfew, a cup of tea in hand and a peaceful mind, away from his everyday problems for five to fifty minutes. But no.

He was forced to attend this frilly ball, to get "pretty" as Erwin had said, then buy flowers - again an order from Erwin - and actually interact with living people and not insult them, then eat properly, talk no bullshit and make no frowns. To top it all off, he wasn’t even given permission to get drunk. So unfair.

As Levi made his way through the crowd that was to either go to the ball or go back to their homes, he accidentally bumped into someone and said someone was going to fall before Levi caught his hand and pulled him back up. When the raven-haired man looked who the person was he found himself face to face with a woman around her mid-twenties, exactly two inches shorter than he was with a bewildered look on her face.

He let go of her forearm as fast as he had gripped it but the woman was in no haste, so she took her time eyeing him up and down before apologising for being a goddamn klutz.

"I'm really sorry for my recklessness, sir. I didn't mean to bump into you." She stated, her tone high-pitched in supposed nervousness. Her voice, however, held very little of the regret she tried to convey.

"You don't really sound sorry."

"I do bump into people everyday, so apologies have turned into a life for me." She shrugged and he snorted. He should be on his way to the fucking palace, not here talking with whoever this woman was. His mind made an abrupt connection. A brilliant idea. He could use her. Not just as an excuse to arrive late, no. He could really use her.

"And where were you going?" He questioned, making the woman frown.

"I was just taking a walk. I just quit my job so I’m looking for a new one."

"You could always work for the palace."

"I’d prefer not to get involved in something I consider my greatest nightmare, thank you. The snobs inside the palace get all my money as it is, I don’t want to serve directly under them too." The woman huffed and knotted her eyebrows in spite, making Levi slightly hum in satisfaction. This was definitely a feisty one. But he would have to make it work. God how he hated interacting with people.

"I can get you a job." He stated straightforwardly, making the female gape at his uncaring scowl.

"Where?"

"Wherever you want."

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, bringing his attention to her tattered button-up. In another life, it should’ve been white but it was grey and worn-out, just like the pants she’d clearly cuffed herself, judging by the sloppy handiwork. Levi eyed the neatly braided (h/c) hair over her shoulder and the clear (s/c) skin contrasting the (e/c) hues currently judging him. A bath was all that stood between her and the adjective ‘pretty’.

"Of cour---"

"And what would you exactly want in return, Mr. Complaisant?" She responded to his glare with one of her own, almost making him roll his eyes in exasperation. He should’ve known she wouldn’t be naive like most women with how poverty-stricken she looked. She was probably one missed paycheck away from becoming homeless and people like her rarely took kind to unreasonably generous offers.

"You got me." He stated boredly, making her snort as he pretended to turn and resume his walk to the palace. He needed not start at all, for she blocked his path with her body less than a second later.

"So?" Her inquiry coincided with the bump of their shoulders as Levi was almost surprised at the lack of disgust he felt at the unintentional contact.

"What?" He asked and she repeated her question with a sigh.

"What would you want in return? Just because someone comes up to me with a suspicious job offer doesn’t mean I’ll be missing out on the opportunity. Let me hear that favour you'll want and I'll decide."

"You seriously don’t know me if you dare question my word, much less if you bargain with me." He glared as she stood across from him as unfazed as she could be. Great, apparently he couldn't intimidate her enough as to use his authority on her. Just great. His plan was crumbling and he had no back-up one.

"Right now, stranger, you're simply the newest addition to my collection of people I’ve bumped into. Not bargaining with you is simply not me, nothing personal." The woman’s explanation made him roll his eyes, then click his tongue and fix her with a glare.

"I want you to go to the ball tonight with me."

"That was sudden." However, she didn’t seem one bit surprised. Was she used to having men invite her to balls left and right all day or was she a mind-reader?

"Do you accept or not? I don't have all night." He tried to keep the insults in, seemingly as he'd have to do it for the rest of the night anyway.

"Sure thing. But the job offer stays?" She looked at him in a suspicious way, making his insides gurgle with irritation at her character. He’d experienced instant dislike lots of times in his life but this individual sparked curiosity too. She was too interesting to be entirely disliked.

"Don't question my words."

"Fine, fine. I'll just have to change."

"We don't have time for that. I'll buy you a dress as we go." He grabbed her wrist before she could turn and headed towards the only dress store he knew of, which was the one where he’d gotten his tux from earlier the same week. The female let herself be dragged after him with suspicious ease, though he could feel her glare piercing the back of his head.

Less than three minutes later, he was knocking on the door of the dress store, hoping for it to be open at this time. The owner’s irritated countenance showed, incoming insults halting at the tip of his tongue at the sight of his client.

"M-Mr. Ackerman. What a pleasure. W-Why are you here?" The man asked as Levi shoved the silent woman at his side through the door with a mean glare.

"Take her measurements and give her a nice dress. Erwin Smith will be paying. I’ll be outside." With a last glance to the confused face of the female and the panicked one of the owner, he exited the store and stiffly considered leaning on the dirty wall before deciding it wasn’t worth it.

Of all things he could be doing right now, he was waiting for a woman he didn’t know so she could accompany him to a ball. Levi had no idea why he’d decided to take her along but he guessed he could only face the consequences of that from now onwards. The minutes he spent silently waiting were uncountable but they paid off well when he saw the store’s door open. He felt the woman who walked out now was not the same as the one he’d shoved in. He blinked at her for a short while in wonder, then motioned for her to follow.

She made no comment on his demanour, she didn’t ask how she looked or what he thought, she didn’t speak at all actually. It was the first time Levi felt discomfort at not being pestered with questions. Because, in this special case, they would be justified. It could be said, they had to be there. But they weren’t and that was strange. Almost as strange as the fact she’d accepted his request without giving it much thought.

"What's your name?"

"(Y/N) (L/N). You don't need to bother remembering it." He hummed at her words and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Why did you ask me to come to that ball with you?"

"To piss somebody off."

"I guess we're even then." His perplexed look spoke volumes on his actual confusion. For all he knew, he was using her - not the other way around. "I agreed to come with you to get back at an old friend of mine since I’m sure he’ll be there." (Y/N) stated, making Levi huff whilst trying not to cringe at how muddy the streets were.

"So it wasn't only for the job?" He asked, not curious and not impartial, just for the sake of avoiding silence.

"Oh, I do need it. I’m just taking more advantage of your offer than I should." Her dress was a darker colour in the light of the setting sun as she spoke, making Levi click his tongue.

"It's amazing how manipulative some women are." His statement was nonchalant. She only nodded.

"And how uncaring some men can make themselves seem."

"Your implication?"

"You're not actually that cold, are you? You cared enough to use me at least. You could’ve easily brushed me off." Levi couldn’t understand where the word ‘care’ wrote itself into the manipulative act he’d performed but he couldn’t deny she was being observant.

"I'm not usually like that." He reassured boredly. He could see her shrug with his peripheral vision; the temptation to look at her was tickling his neck but he was the tiniest of bits put off by the fact he might just see the smirk he somehow knew was on her lips. “Now, I’m not going to be lecturing you on etiquette. You can go embarrass yourself in whichever way you want for all I care so long as you don’t say I’ve basically bought your escort." He changed the topic with a deadpan as she nodded, smiling just slightly.

"Sure thing." His stomach took an unpleasant turn. What was happening? Had he become nauseous without even noticing? Was it the food he’d eaten? He opened his mouth to speak again when she exclaimed: "Oh, look we're here! Come on!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the palace's entrance. He quickly yanked his hand from hers - clothed contact with her he may have tolerated, but this here was a no-no for his cleanliness.

"I can walk perfectly fine on my own." He stated and (Y/N) only snorted in responce.

"Then please do walk faster." With a roll of his eyes, Levi kept his pace just as slow as it had been before, if not slower on purpose. The guard at the entrance took his invitation and let them in but only after attempting to get a look at (Y/N)’s cleavage - an attempt Levi instantly compromised by vouchsafing him a glare. Much to the raven-haired male’s displeasure, they had to hook hands before walking in so that was exactly what they did.

The raven held back the cringe that was to make itself visible over his sharp features as his gaze faced the frilly decorations hanging from the marble columns and the high ceilings, not to mention the pompous lace ribbons all over the place. His nose was scrunched up in mild disgust as the woman at his side let out a distinct puke-imitation sound that summed up both’s impression of the hall.

"I agree." Levi’s statement made (Y/N) chuckle whilst fiddling with her braid. He guessed discomfort had gotten to her in the crowd.

"What do I do now?" She voiced out her childish concerns, to which he responded with a snort. Levi let go of her hand and handed the bouquet he was holding to the nearest woman visible, which was an old lady less than a foot away from him. She showed shock, then a smile as he bowed and turned back to his escort.

"I can introduce you to some people. We are half an hour late anyway. They must be all here already." She nodded and he led her away into the crowd. People stared at him as he walked in front of her and partially shielded her with his body from other people's contact as she furrowed her eyebrows in embarrassment and uncertainity while being eyed up from all directions from both women and men.

Finally reaching his destination as he witnessed Erwin ahead talking with Nile-the-bitch-Dok, Levi made sure he was noticed quickly by the blond who seemed to get paler by the second he saw the raven and his escort walk his way.

"Good evening.” The raven greeted informally, but the blond had all his attention on something behind Levi's back. Looking back he witnessed (Y/N), hands on her hips and a slight smirk playing on her lips.

"Miss me, boys?" Nile had already turned around and seen the woman himself, which made him the second besides Erwin to nearly gape at her. Levi could wholeheartedly say he didn't understand one bit the happening.

"Look who came back from the dead." Nile eyed (Y/N) with a whistle while Erwin cleared his throat, pale face slowly regaining its normal colour.

"You know I wasn’t dead to begin with, Nile. And you, Erwin - you look a lot worse. Not enjoying life?" The female closed the distance between herself and the men, snatching a glass of wine from the passing waiter.

"More like stuck-up as ever." Nile corrected before Erwin could speak for himself and the woman smiled.

"I'm happy to hear it. But---" she threw Nile a glance before locking gazes with Erwin, "I wasn't talking to you, Commander Pony." The title made Levi's teeth gnaw on the inner side of his cheek as to prevent a cackle. He'd never heard anybody besides himself and Hanji deride Nile in such a manner and even they rarely did it to his face. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier might’ve been clueless as to the happening but he certainly had nothing against the nicknames.

"I see you haven't changed." Erwin stated after chuckling, making (Y/N)'s smirk soften into a genuine smile.

"How could I? Change comes with people and surroundings. Mine haven't changed since you two left."

"A shocker, really." The dark-haired commander added as the woman shot him a playful glare.

"As witty as ever, Nile.”

"What leads you here anyway?" Erwin asked and (Y/N) shot Levi a glance, then turned back to the blond who might’ve come to the conclusion it wasn’t really a ‘what’ that had brought her there - rather a ‘who’.

"A soldier, I’m thinking he might be up in the ranks with how imperative he is. Guessing the name’s up to you." Her slyness made Nile chuckle as Levi shot daggers into his head. Erwin only raised an eyeborw at his at his strongest soldier.

"Is it true that she's your escort, Levi?"

"Sort of." The raven’s statement made the blond sigh before turning to (Y/N) with a smile.

"Can I have the first dance?" Levi didn’t need to hear the words to know there was something more to those two then either let show. He felt irritation at his side. Why? No idea. Before he could feel himself moving, the raven was already standing between the (h/c)-haired female and the commander.

"Actually it's already reserved. She's my escort after all." He tried to keep his voice down, steady and cold, and, well, it went out like a growl he wanted to punch himself for. He turned to look at (Y/N)’s big uncertain eyes and it dawned on him this was exactly why he shouldn’t have brought her along. He was ready to step aside when she laughed.

"I guess Levi's right. I'm reserved. Sorry, Erwin. I'll save you the next one." With that and a pat at the tall blond’s shoulder, (Y/N) smiled at Levi and took his hand - a gesture he was too confused to fight. They were in the middle of the hall and soft violins were playing, echoing off the walls and surrounding all the dancing couples.

There wasn’t an exchange of words - Levi just grabbed (Y/N)'s hand and waist and tried not to bruise them as her small palm glued itself to his shoulder. The fingers he was clutching were delicate and cold and it seemed to him even the gesture of squeezing would break them. Her feet moved swiftly under his command but she made the mistake of being hasty which resulted in the soft sole of her boots repeatedly coming in contact with his shiny dress shoes. Thankfully, her dress was long enough to cover up their clumsiness.

To his own utmost surprise, Levi didn’t feel the need to complain or even speak despite the fact she made it a goal to profusely apologise for her poor dancing skills

"That's why I always refuse dancing. I’m really sorry." She mumbled and Levi looked down at her with uncertainity before meeting Erwin’s gaze among the crowd over her shoulder.

"Who’s the friend you wanted to piss off?"

"Erwin, of course. He's always been the jealous type."

"Such a coincidence." Levi clicked his tongue and (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow at him as he spun her once and then pulled her back to himself.

"He’s your target as well?" She asked and he spun her again under his hand, he was sure she'd step on his foot any seco---

"Indeed." He hissed out slightly towards the end as her boot was yet once again met with his toes.

"Shit, sorry. Well, I can’t say I pity him." She mumbled after apologising hastily, catching back onto his shoulder as he sighed to calm the slight numbness in his toes.

"He'll get over it." The raven stated and the woman in front of him smiled softly, looking down at her feet. Well, not at least there was a possibility she'd prevent another stomp over his feet. "How do you know him anyway?” Levi tried to sound nonchant even though he had no idea why. He didn't care that much for anything but he knew silently spinning along to the violins would be more uncomfortable than this.

"Both he and Nile are my childhood friends. I wish Mike was around here as well. I'd love to see if him and his nose have changed." She snorted at that sentence as Levi rolled his eyes and remembered the morning accident and why exactly Hanji had broken his precious china. Mike was everywhere and if he didn't frighten you the first time you met, it would surely happen afterwards when he appeared out of the blue trying to smell the samples you held. Or in Hanji’s case it was that way since the majority was properly freaked out by his impression and hence didn’t show up around him again.

"Not in the least."

"That's great." (Y/N) laughed heartily, eyes sparkling with glee. Levi thought it very strange that she would be so happy, furthermore over something this insignificant. It wasn't like they lived in an utopia.

"So, childhood friends?" He redirected the topic, pulling her closer when another dancing couple came too close for comfort. (Y/N)’s chest bumped into Levi’s and her forehead hit his chin. He regretted preventing the collision with the other couple when he heard her breath hitch.

"Technically they were already in the military when I was a child, but I consider them that." She straightened out and blinked a few times, staring at his lips and trying to ignore the way he was watching her do it. He nodded weakly, to which she held her breath and looked down at her feet. She cleared her throat, clearly uneasy and he could almost see the question at the tip of her tongue.

“Spit it out.” He commanded, receiving a heavy sigh in return.

"Why did you invite me here when you could've invited literally anybody else? A colleague or a random woman or your girlfriend. I’m not into gossip but you are a popular topic amongst females."

"It’s you because I want to piss off Erwin. Nothing more, nothing less." The raven snorted. Not only was this woman irritatingly observant, but she had a big mouth and now she was butting into his personal shit. He couldn't let that happen.

"The song ended. I think I should go." She let go of him quickly before turning and disappearing into the crowd in search of Erwin as far as Levi could guess.

He didn’t know what it mattered that it was Erwin and not Mike or somebody else. She wasn’t important. He’d met her today. He realised that. Maybe she was just too happy, too evasive with her answers and too involved with his superiors for it to be normal. Maybe Levi just needed to unvail the mystery around her relationship with his colleagues in order for her to become uninteresting.

The only things he knew about her was she knew his superiors and her name was (Y/N). Had it been any other woman he would’ve heard her whole life’s story by now. (Y/N) had a big mouth and lots of comebacks at the ready but she shared nothing about herself, which made Levi wonder what in the holy grail of fuck she was hiding.

Annoyance building up, Levi told himself to stop reading into everything and headed for the punch table. On the way there, he kept reassuring himself that the mysterious (Y/N) was actually normal and plain, and she just hadn’t the time to sing out all her problems to him yet. His mind was overwhelmed by boredom and had obviously decided to imagine a common peasant girl as some alluring puzzle to be build, a mystery to be unravelled. Which was stupid on so many levels he could not begin to describe it. She was normal and stupid, and girly. She had to be. They all were. All he’d met until now anyway.

And here she fell upon his gaze once again, engaging in a lively conversation with Nanaba, Dita, Ness, Hanji and Mike around the punch table. Great, just when he actually wanted some alcohol.

The (f/c) dress she had on herself, he had to admit, looked beyond appealing when on her. Would look even better off her, he was sure. Had this been his Underground-self, he could bet he’d landed her in his bed and then kicked her out the door already. If she could walk properly that is. Brushing the thought off and nearing the table with a snort, he could hear a part of their conversation.

"I can eat it. Come on, give it to me." (Y/N) challenged and Hanji smirked.

"We start on three." The brunette's hand prepared to stike for the hors d'oeuvres on the silver plates next to the table they were near to as (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. "You could never beat me, (Y/N)."

“I'm betting on Hanji." Ness stated as Dita snorted in support.

"I'm for (Y/N)." Nananba commented and Mike nodded along.

"Why don't we bet on it, Zoe? It's always funnier that way." The (h/c)-haired smirked as the mad scientist narrowed her eyes.

"What is it this time?"

"Why not a bottle of that wine you're hiding in the lab?" (Y/N) inquired casually, making Levi’s brows furrow in confusion. Hanji wasn’t allowed to have alcoh---

"I’m not hiding any wine." Hanji’s forehead was covered in sweat. Levi would make sure to note the fact she’d snuck alcohol behind Erwin's back. That would make her shut up if she wanted to blackmail him about Eren’s experiments.

"If you say so.” (Y/N) chuckled with a nod.

"Then whatever the winner wishes for."

"Deal. It's fair." (Y/N) and the others around the table voiced their agreement as the brunette nodded and shook hands with the other female.

"Mike, count down. Dita, count my chocolates. Nanaba, count (Y/N)'s."

"Sure." Nanaba went to (Y/N)'s side and watched as Dita made her way to Hanji's. Levi just assumed they were crazy. They weren't really going to have an eating contest in the middle of the ball right?

"Three." Mike started, making Levi step closer but still out of sight for the contestants. "Two." The dirty blonde took a step back, set on being a referee whilst watching the tension grow with Ness at his side. "One." Both women began stuffing their mouths with chocolate candies, making Levi blink in bafflement.

Disgusting. How could two women - not only one - be so unfeminine for God's sake? His face scrunched up and then he felt a hand come in contact with his shoulder. He turned around to face Erwin who was observing the two women stuffing their faces as their friends counted the number of sweets that had already disappeared down their throats.

"Isn't it extraordinary how there's a second woman in the whole world who wishes to have an eating contest with Hanji when even that new cadet Braus doesn't?" The blond questioned, making the raven snort.

"It sure is disgusting."

"Quite a lot actually." Erwin chuckled, making Levi quirk an eyebrow.

"They've done that before?"

"All the time."

"And?"

"It was always a tie."

Someone can eat as much as shitty glasses. It would've been amazing had Levi not been extremely repulsed by the fact both women were being total pigs while performing it. That was one of Hanji's charms indeed, but (Y/N)---

"Some shit happened between you two?" Levi asked as Erwin looked down at him, then his gaze directed itself to (Y/N).

"(Y/N) never held interest in me like that. You're more her type."

"Her type?" He spat the words like venom. Levi hated being categorised like an object.

"Delinquent who breaks the rules. She never fell for the good guy." Erwin smiled nostalgically as if recalling a bittersweet memory as Levi's face scrunched up in confusion and displeasure. Even after all those years Levi'd been following Erwin, his stupid orders and his beliefs, he still thought he was the same thug - the bad boy - he’d pulled out of the Underground?

"You're the good guy, I suppose."

"Kind of. I wouldn't have been a good pair for her anyway. We both knew it and while she got over it, I couldn’t."

"Did Commander Pony have the same probem?" Levi personally thought it was a bigger possibility of himself sleeping with a donkey than (Y/N) and Dok hooki---”

"No, she and Nile slept together once but neither’s willing to admit it up to this day because they still think it a mistake. Anyways - I think the contest finished." Erwin redirected the topic when witnessing the shock on Levi’s face, then left him staring blankly ahead with the words: "I'll go see the results."

"Cavities here we come." Hanji mumbled.

"I was sure I was going to win this time." (Y/N) groaned as the big group of friends passed Levi. Hanji and (Y/N) were rubbing at their jaws and their disappointed entourage followed while Erwin tried to reassure them it was a tie before it’d even started.

Finally grabbing a drink, Levi tried to keep his mind blank and noticed a few women throwing him slutty glances in passing. Naturally, he ignored them since he wasn’t in the mood for a careless fuck even if it would be with a tall blonde with a perfect body. On his fourth glass of wine, the raven-haired male found himself staring at (Y/N) as she excused herself from her group of friends and headed, for some strange reason, his way. The earlier blonde he’d noticed had also began approaching him.

Levi watched (Y/N) stop in her tracks, eye the blonde and snatch a glass of white wine from a passing waiter. She sipped on her drink, patiently waiting for the blonde to get to him. The conclusion made Levi’s brows furrow just as the gifted female started sweet-talking him into a good time without even introducing herself. Displeasire had settled at the bottom of his stomach as he observed (Y/N)’s unmoving figure.

"So, what do you say we go somewhere else? I hear soldiers are exceptionally giving when it comes to the people they protect.” The blonde took a step forward and Levi tried to step back but his waist had long hit the edge of the punch table. In addition, he would like to see what his escort would do when he was getting sexually harrassed in public.

When the blonde had left no space between their bodies, (Y/N) passed her empty glass to a waiter and quickly approached them before grabbing the tall female’s bare shoulder. The blonde squeaked and turned only to meet a very fiery (e/c) glare.

"Excuse me, I think if my partner hasn’t already dragged you into the nearest closet then he’s not really in the mood for sez right now." (Y/N) was calm and the blonde was obviously not having that.

"How would you know?"

"It's written all over his face. Now go steal some married man from his wife instead of messing with the wrong woman at the wrong table full of objects which have the potential to become a weapon." The blonde was scared shitless, guessing by the smirk Levi witnessed on (Y/N)’s face. She was gone in less than ten seconds, leaving a loudly cackling (h/c)-haired female and a bored Levi, feeling his stomach churn unpleasantly. "God, I love their faces so much!" She exclaimed, then smiled at Levi. "You wanted to bang her or I was right to say you would’ve led her away already?"

"I'm not obliged to answer your dumb questions."

"Yeah, it was a dumb one."

"What happened? Got tired around so many of your ol' friends?" He asked, clearly irritated with her behaviour, which on the other side covered up the fact he wanted to know the answer to an extent.

"I was actually going to ask if you'd dance with me. I noticed you falling in love with the feeling of my boots crushing your toes." She smirked playfully and leaned on the table next to him, making him stare her down in slight bewilderment. He considered the possibility of her being tipsy if not drunk already. He was rolling his eyes when she grabbed his forearm and dragged him towards the middle of the hall. He didn’t complain but he wasn’t bursting with enthusiasm either.

"It's a faster song this time, though." His hands had just settled on her waist as she voiced the warning.

"Twice the fun for me." Levi dragged out sarcastically while (Y/N) curved backwards with a laugh, making Levi's face soften just slightly as she picked herself back up and wrapped both arms around his neck.

"I'll be leading you around the room like crazy." She stated with a smile on her lips, the braid already coming undone above her shoulder as it tickled the soft skin of her neck.

"Leading me?"

"Totally." She grinned at him when the music played and her hands tugged him along, wherever she wanted him to go. Before he knew it they were spinning and he wasn’t in control, but he knew he was either drunk or this woman was truly as interesting as she seemed.

The latter would be rather troublesome for him.

"You must be drunk." Levi concluded.

He was yet once again so irritated.

And not at anything else. This time it was at himself.

What in all of his right senses and logic had made him fucking escort her home at the end of the night he didn't know. He told Erwin and the others to leave, then went back to the town square knowing nothing of the location of her home as she was slightly limping against his shoulder, laughing at stupid jokes and insults he said, then looked as serious as she could, going back to her gooey mood less than five seconds later.

It was an unending circle and he was getting so annoyed with it. And with himself. Why couldn't he just get this over with?

"Nah. I rarely am." She stumbled and almost fell in that tight dress she wore, but he caught her and rolled his eyes. Both of them reeked of alcohol, but at least he wasn't truly drunk.

"Where do you live?" He asked and she looked around, her narrowed eyes searching for something.

"Why isn't Erwin here? Where is Erwin?"

"Stop asking questions and answer mine. Where do you live?" He repeated this time more harshly. It wasn't because she asked where Erwin was, more because of the fact that she was taking some of his own time for sleeping and rest after such events - not that he would rest anyway, he'd probably start his paperwork or something.

"Oh, I live near the dress store, just at the right alleyway and ahead until you arrive at a pub. Turn left there and look around for a green barrel in front of an old house." She was in serious mode and he thanked the Gods for that, then started leading her away in said directions.

When they arrived at the place, Levi looked up at the old building, reading out the words above the entrance and then looking back at the female that was leaning on him. He would've probably thrown her away until now, but he wasn't that bad.

"This is a pub."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that I quitted. Well, just leave me off in the street there and I'll go to sleep a little." She wasn't making fucking sense with that sentence.

"Are you fucking mad? Isn't there anywhere else you can stay? At a friend's house or something?" He asked and she laughed, back in gooey mode as he waited for it to wear off.

"I think not. I usually live wherever I get a work at, so I try to find another job before actually quitting the previous one, but this time it was just on impulse and I have nowhere else to go. But really you don't need to bother because of it. I have slept on the streets before. Just leave me off and let's say our farewells." She smiled at him and he scoffed, then let go of her body and she almost fell down, making him roll his eyes and sigh as he picked her up once again, literally throwing her over his shoulder and going back to the town square.

She didn't comply, just giggled from time to time as her hair was swinging from left to right and she was fading in and out of consciousness, making him take deep breaths and try to ignore the urge to do what she had requested of him earlier and leave her on the street.

After he called a carriage and ordered where to, he set her on the seat across from him and she literally fell asleep immediately. He scowled at her and pursed his lips at her peacefully sleeping form, calculating things as many times as possible to make sure he wouldn't be caught in the act with what he was going to do.

It was going to be hard to sneak her in and out of the headquarters, but taking the fact she had no home to go to he could do that much. The HQ wasn't a charity home for people from the streets however, so he would have some problems if anyone were to learn about this. Maybe at the ball Erwin, Mike and the others were long lost friends of hers, but on their territory they were soldiers that had to keep rules, so he couldn't trust them about it either.

Throughout the ride, Levi just took his time to space off while looking either at the night sky through the carriage window or at the woman's sleeping face.

That was until the carriage actually took its stop and Levi paid the driver, then picked (Y/N) up - this time in bridal style - and asked himself how would someone not fucking notice him as he enters. But at last, somehow he managed to get himself and the woman in his arms through the doors of the infirmary, laying her down on a lone bed at the corner of the room just under a window, but just as he was to turn around and leave, unfortunately enough she woke up and looked at him with those big (e/c) eyes of hers in slight confusion and surprise.

"Where are we?"

"I brought you to the HQ. Sleep here and early in the morning I'll come to wake you up."

"I guess it'll be for the best. Wait--- where will I be going afterwards?" She asked and he snorted.

"Nowhere. I'll get you a job at the stables. Or even set you as a cook if you can actually make something that doesn't taste like shit. We'll see." He headed for the door.

"You're actually going to find me a job? Here?"

"I told you not to question my word a lot of times." He clicked his tongue just as his hand went on the doorknob.

"Yeah, I guess you did."

"Just don't let your dumb ass be seen until I come in the morning." He ordered and didn't even need to look at her to know how her face looked at that moment.

"Hey, Levi."

"Hm?" He turned around and his stomach took yet once again an unpleasant for the short corporal turn. He shouldn't have turned. Her grin was facing him - form as messy as it could be on the bed, dress in creases, hair let down, eyes shining more than the fucking moon out of the window - the moonlight was making her visage look as if glowing in a way.

"Thanks for everything." She stated and he stared at her in a slight trance before snapping his head back to the dark hallway outside. With a deep hum resonating in his throat, he nodded and then exited the door, ready to head for his office then finish all work he didn't get to in the afternoon.

He was walking down the hall with a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand already knowing that the moment (Y/N) wakes up she would---

"Ah, fuck, my head is splitting in two!"

He heard a loud groan from inside the infirmary and with a sigh, a big check standing in front of the thought he didn't even get to finish before he got there, he entered inside the empty infirmary and his eyes were immediately glued to the figure of the woman on the bed he had left her on last night. Her form was frozen in mid-sit-up, hand to her temple, hair a mess, the sleeve of her dress slipping off her shoulder and showing her skin.

As Levi neared the bed, he caught the smell of soap from her hair and the one of alcohol still coating her body. He sat at the edge of the mattress and she looked at him with a groggy smile, half-lidded eyes grinning in their own way as he handed her the coffee with the words: "Drink some before you get up."

She caught the cup and lifted it to her lips with a pair of shaky hands before pausing and grinning at him.

"Thank you, Levi." He hummed in appreciation. She may have looked like a disaster, her breath may have or may have not smelled, her clothes may have reeked of alcohol and he may have been partly forced into helping her when he could dump her somewhere along the way - and he definitely would have if he was his old self - but something on the inside made him think in that single moment that she was very very beautiful. And he didn't feel so irritated anymore.

And that was so not him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi fanfiction #reader insert

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cowandcalf · 4 years

Text

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.14 - Metamorphosis Part I

Chapter 1-6

Chapter 7

"Hey, Tanaka wants results on the case, asap. We need to come up with something useful today. He's pissed. He breathes down our neck. I hate it when he does that. We need hard proof to get that damn search warrant." Kono shoves a coffee to go under Danny's nose and hops up to sit on his desk.

Danny turns his phone upside down and pretends he hasn't been checking again if Steve had texted.

"What are you doing?" Kono's eyes are on his cell.

"Nothing."

"Uh-huh."

The hustle and bustle at HPD is intense with all the cops coming and going. An angry drunk shouts obscenities into the open space of the office where he sits cuffed to the chair next to Meka's desk. Danny watches the old woman who has lost her parrot. The poor woman clutches her purse and looks overwhelmed with what's going on at the police station.

"Kono, make sure Duke takes care of that lady over there. She's too old to sit for so long and she misses her pet. Can you do that?" Danny grabs his coffee and hopes Kono drops the thing with his phone. "Duke's always good with confused, old ladies. He'll make her feel safe and he'll find her bird."

"He's on his way back from questioning a witness. I'll call him and tell him. What's the plan for today?" Kono dials a number on her cell and looks expectantly at Danny.

"Let's check those bank accounts again. We need to find out how they get that money off the island. How they sell the puppies." Danny rattles down the points on their to-do list. He reaches for the case files with their suspects. "I'll comb through our interrogation protocols again to find the needle in the haystack. This lumberjack guy lies. We need some results fast. I wanna get back to the guy's house. I don't mind to punch the asshole in the face. We need to find the drugs and the puppies. God, I hate cases with puppy trafficking. People are so sick." Danny gets up and signals Kono to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Kono hops off the desk to catch up with him.

"I need a quiet place. I can't think in here. It's a mess and too loud. Let's go and sit at Kame's place. Maybe he knows stuff we don't. Let's work together."

"Tanaka wouldn't approve." Kono teases.

"I don't care shit about what Tanaka approves. He wants results. He'll get results. Come on, let's get out of here."

Danny checks his phone again. He can't fight that strong pull to just check on the incoming texts. It's pathetic and he's aware of that. But still. Damn it. Nothing. Danny senses the same dull tweak of disappointment when all he sees is the screensaver. It's Grace's picture. He loves Grace but still, he had expected a least one text from Steve. It's been days since he's watched Steve getting smaller in the rear mirror.

Grace's beloved face makes him smile of course. It's not that he doesn't love to look at a picture of his baby girl. But he would have liked if Steve had acted on that rain check. Steve hasn't texted in nearly six days. Not one lousy letter and it's messing with Danny's mood. No one needs to point out how stupid he behaves. Rationally Danny can deal with it, emotionally he can't. He worries Steve might have forgotten his number. But hey, he's ex-elite force. He should draw those few numbers from his mind with ease. And that leads Danny to the conclusion he tries to avoid. The one where the only logical explanation would be that Steve's just not interested and that he's forgotten about Danny.

Danny checks again, just to be sure he hasn't missed anything. He waits until Kono opens the door for him. His eyes are glued to the small display.

"Danny, we need to talk." Kono pushes the door open.

"About what?" He slips the cell into his back pocket.

"I've created a tally sheet to log how many times you've checked your phone since you've walked through that door this morning." Kono grins. "The log-ins are from five days. There's something going on. You never check your phone that often unless you expect something. It's not work-related I can tell. I smell romance in the air." Kono has this predator smile on her face Danny has learned to fear. She has tasted blood. Danny's in deep trouble. "You've met someone." That's not even a question. She's made a statement as if she sees right through him.

Danny's lost for words. "You did what? A tally sheet? What happened to privacy? And by the way, it's none of your business."

"You work with a bunch of crazy cops. Yes, it's my business. You're distracted all the time. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I don't know? I guess? Could you just shut up about it? It's nothing." Danny defends himself.

"Hey, you just stood there, waiting for me to open the goddamn door for you because you were so busy with checking your phone!" Kono shouts. "Tell me!"

"No."

"It's my business too when it affects your work."

"It doesn't affect my work!"

"I brought you coffee. Every damn day! Give me at least some details. The big picture! Who's this person who makes you forget about everything around you."

Danny stops dead in his tracks and gapes at her. "You brought me coffee hoping I would feed you some rom-com shit you just made up?"

"It was your favorite coffee, brah! Kamekona doesn't break either. He won't say a damn word!"

Danny can't even throw his hands in the air. He holds on to his coffee and to the files he picked from under his arm. "You did what??"

"I asked Kame what's up with you. He wouldn't say but his face twitched. You know the way it does when he hides something. But he wouldn't budge. So, that only means that something important is going on and you guys, have a secret you won't tell me. And that secret is related to you and the constant checking your phone!"

The smile splits Danny's face in half. "You're a damn good cop, Kono-san."

"Don't, nuh-huh, don't Kono-san me, not working, Danny! Who is it? You try to hide everything. It's extremely suspicious."

"Get it, shut up, and don't make me push you out the door when we're on the highway," Danny grumbles. "We take your car. You drive. I go through the files on our way to Kame." Danny inhales and rolls his eyes. "And no more questions, Kono, I mean it."

Danny's phone rings. He jerks to the unexpected sound. Kono snickers with her eyes all over him. She doesn't miss a single detail.

"Eyes on the road, Kono. Jesus!"

"You're smiling like a stupid idiot." She says.

Danny's too busy to reach for his phone. It's Rachel. His stomach drops fast. The disappointment makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

"That's not the person you have expected." Kono leans in and reads the caller ID on the screen. She has no feelings for personal boundaries. She's a pain in the ass today.

"Kono! For fuck's sake, watch the road!"

"Brah, you act strange. All tense and shit. I don't like it. Spill it already, dude."

Danny scoffs an answer but takes Rachel's call. "Rachel, what's up? Everything's fine? Is Grace okay?"

When he hangs up Kono just takes one look at him and is all serious again. "Danny? What's up? What do you need?"

"Can you drive me to the hospital?"

"Whoa! Something happened?" She shouts.

"No, God no. Nothing. Rachel's fine, Grace's fine." Danny runs his hand over his face. "You know, I told you Rachel undergoes in vitro fertilization because she and Stan can't get pregnant. She got the call. She has a two-hour window to harvest one of her eggs. She's at the hospital. Stan's in a meeting. She has Grace and she's scared and upset. I'm her backup if Stan can't be there. I'll look after Grace when she's under. Can we make a detour to the hospital?" Danny explains.

"Sure, brah, whatever you need."

Kono drops him off and snatches the case files out of his hand. "Leave this to me. I'm at Kame's. Call me if you need anything. Be with Grace and let Rachel do what she came to do. Stan's on his way. I called the office. I'll come and pick you up. Call me, okay?"

"Thanks, Kono. I owe you." Danny's thoughts are already somewhere else.

"No, you don't owe me a single thing, Danny-san. You're ohana but you're not off the hook about your secret romance."

Danny sighs and shakes his head. He combs his fingers through the ruffled hairdo. He watches how Kono filters back into traffic.

The reception at the fertility center/the child birthing ward is painted in calm and friendly colors. The staff is always caring and supportive. Danny has mixed feelings to step into this realm where sadness and happiness are equally balanced. He and Rachel had never any difficulties getting pregnant. He feels deeply sorry for Stan and Rachel.

"Danno!" A loud, high-pitched voice called his name. With her pigtails flying Grace runs right into his open arms.

"Hi, monkey! Hey, love to see you, baby-girl. Everything's fine?"

"I don't like this place." Grace wraps her small arms around his neck.

"I'll make sure mommy is fine and then we head outside to check-out that awesome-looking playground, okay?"

Grace nods and holds on to him. Danny carries his daughter over to where Rachel gets checked her personal details. "Hi, Rachel, how are you?"

"Hi, Daniel. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I didn't have anyone else to call." She sniffs but stands tall. She's a brave woman. Danny's glad they've worked hard to become friends for the sake of Grace's happiness. They're good parents.

"Hey, everything's going to be fine. I'm here. I'll take care of Grace. Kono called Stan. He's on his way. You go and make sure you're one step closer to having a baby, okay?" Danny gently pets her shoulder. She seems so upset and nervous. Her eyes are big. She wears the stress like a cloak around her shoulders. The mood of her mother makes Grace cling to Danny. He holds her tightly to assure that everything is okay.

Rachel bites her lips. She shows a watery smile. "Thank you, a lot, Daniel. Can you – can you make sure Stan comes and finds me once he's here?"

"Yes, will do."

"Okay, I'll give you a call when I'm done." Rachel strokes Grace's back, "bye baby, mommy's back soon. Stay with Danno, okay?"

Danny and Grace wave Rachel goodbye. They watch until the automatic doors with the blinded glass close behind her back. Danny's gaze falls on a heavily pregnant woman who sits in the waiting area holding her round belly with her arms. She looks a bit stressed and her bangs are wet. Her cheeks are flushed. She sits there with her eyes closed and seems to breathe in a calming pattern. She's so young. Danny feels the distinct protective instinct kicking in. He hopes she's not alone and there's a loving husband who takes good care of her.

Grace wiggles in his arms. "Danno, can we go now?"

"Of course, monkey. Let's go and have some fun."

The automatic doors open again and a tall, dark, handsome man walks over to the blond, young woman. He wears cargo pants, dark, solid boots, and a rumpled navy-blue V-neck shirt hanging out of his pants. Danny recognizes the tattoos first. The way the guy walks over to the pregnant woman looks so familiar. Danny imagines bare feet and worn blue jeans and a lot of dirt.

Steve.

Danny hears Grace babbling and complaining. He holds onto her and watches Steve. He carries a bottle of water and sits down next to the beautiful-looking soon-to-be-mama. He gently brushes at the wet strands of hair to get it out of her eyes. Danny just stares at the perfect picture. He should have known it. Guys like Steve are taken, no matter the damage they carry around. Danny bites his tongue and swallows a pain so sharp as if stabbed in the gut.

The young woman must have said something because Steve's head darts around and he meets Danny's eyes. Danny hears the nurse at the reception talking on the phone. He realizes how Grace wants to be let down but he only sees Steve and the way he takes him in. The way his eyes shoot to Grace and back to him, and how he shuts down. How he pushes Danny away without saying a single word, or even twitching a finger. Steve doesn't smile, doesn't show he knows him. Danny feels deeply hurt and when he's hurt, he gets bold.

"Come on, Grace. I need to say 'hi' to a friend and I promise we're leaving after that." He puts Grace down and takes her small hand in his.

"Hi, Steve. Nice to meet you. I didn't know you're going to be a father soon. Congratulations." He says with the sweetest smile he finds in him. The hurt is like wet sand that pulls him down.

Steve clenches his jaw and stays silent. His gaze gets all soft when he looks at Grace though. "Hi, sweetheart, what's your name?"

Grace hugs Danny's leg and hides her face at his thigh. He protectively shields her by hugging her shoulder before he cups the back of her head. "That's Grace, my daughter."

Steve withdraws even more. He shuts down in a way Danny only senses and it hurts. It hurts. And he knows he has no right to feel hurt because he has no claim on this man.

"Okay, guys, I don't know what's this all about but Steve, you're rude. Just say 'hi' to your friend. God, Punk, where are your manners?" The young woman grunts and pushes herself to sit upright with her legs spread wide to make space for her round belly. Steve's immediately at her side to help her.

Danny's afraid she's going to pop any minute. "I'm Danny, hi, nice to meet you. Steve and I only met once. He might not recognize me. I wish you all the best and I hope you're doing fine. When is your due date?"

The woman's mouth falls open. She grabs Danny's hand with both hands and keeps it sandwiched in hers. "You are Danny?" She gasps. "Wow!"

A shudder of excitement ripples through Danny's chest.

Steve jerks out of his stupor. "Mary," his voice carries a warning tone, "just – please? Could you not?"

Grace whispers too loud that this woman has a baby in her belly. This makes even Steve smile.

"I'm Mary. It's so nice to meet you, Danny. Steve talked about you and I'm so happy to meet you. He promised I might one day but you know I'm impatient. And here you are. And I'm not due for two weeks. But our little sweetheart makes her own rules. It was a false alarm. I told Steve but he freaked out and wanted to go to the hospital to be sure. He's my brother, by the way, my big brother. Kawika, my husband, is on his way but he wasn't there when it happened."

Danny has a tight grip on his features. The odd mix of emotions makes him sleepy. What does all this even mean that Mary just spilled with this cute smile on her face? He can't look at Steve.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mary. I'm glad everything's fine." He wants to add more like thank you for taking good care of Steve or any similar, emotional shit he has no right to say but Mary's name gets called.

Danny turns to spot a good-looking man, dark skin, curly hair who jogs over to kneel at Mary's side. "Hi, baby, I came as fast as possible. How are you? How's our little nuglet?" The man kisses Mary's belly with so much love and devotion Danny has to look away.

"All the best to you, guys. I take Grace outside to play."

"Danny, wait!" Mary speaks up. "Kawika I want you to meet Danny. Danny, meet Kawika, my husband."

There's a glint of recognition in Kawika's eyes. His handshake is solid, strong, and full of trust. "Nice to finally meet you, Danny."

Danny's isn't far behind with being brilliant at filling in the gaps. "You're a friend of Kame."

Kawika's smile is blindingly open and kind. "Yes, and thank you."

Danny knows instantly he's referring to Steve and what has happened almost a week ago. Steve has talked about him with his loved ones. Danny's mood rises like a morning sun. He feels great. "You take care of your sweet wife."

"I will." Kawika turns and pulls Steve into a fierce embrace. They seem to be very close.

"Danny," Steve's voice makes him stop again, "I'll come with you and Grace if you don't mind?" That's the first sentence Steve says since they've met again.

"Sure, let's go."

On the way out, Graces holds on to Danny's hand and peeps up at Steve who walks beside her. Out of the corner of his eyes, Danny sees how Steve gifts her with lovely smiles until she giggles. Danny's heart just flips over in his chest.

TBC

Also on AO3

#writersmonth2020 #h50 #mcdanno #fic rec #mcdanno fic rec #prompt metamorphosis #ongoing story #cowandcalf writes #thank you so much for reading

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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 5 years

Text

I was hoping to get this up tonight so it is very hastily edited.

open your eyes then you will see

Being a surgical intern at Grey-Sloane Memorial Hospital meant hating your life 75% of the time. The other 25% was full of groundbreaking surgeries and frustratingly hot ortho fellows. Levi was currently deep in that 75% trying to catch up on his charts without any distractions.

“There you are!”

He should have known better. The tunnels only provided a temporary reprieve before one of the other interns inevitably finds their way down there.

“Can’t talk right now Taryn, little busy at the moment.” He glances up briefly before going back to his notes. She’s smiling which probably means he’s not in trouble although knowing Helm she could find his latest screw up amusing.

“This won’t take long, I’m scrubbing in on a craniotomy in ten.” Levi tries not to feel jealous. He fails. “Anyway, you still want to move out of your mom’s place right?”

Not at all what he was expecting from this conversation, Levi turns his full attention to his friend. “Um. Yes?”

“Great!” She slaps her hands together hard enough that the noise echoes in the empty stretch of hallway. “You move in Saturday. Casey already agreed to help so between the three of us it shouldn’t take long. You’re buying dinner.”

Levi blinks rapidly, his brain unable to process this new information as quickly as Taryn delivers it. By the time his vision refocuses she’s already halfway to the elevator but still within hearing distance.

“Thank you?”

——

He has trouble concentrating after that and half an hour later when he is paged to the on call room on third by that certain ortho fellow he gives up on his charting entirely.

He’s barely managed to turn the lock before he’s being pressed against the door and Nico’s face is less than a inch away.

“Hi,” he whispers, his lips brushing briefly against Levi’s. He flashes that small half smirk that still manages to turn Levi’s knees into jelly before leaning in for a slow lingering kiss.

Levi tries to reciprocate the greeting though he thinks it comes out as more of a grunt.

“What are you doing Saturday? My shift just got changed and I was thinking we could do something.” His lips have migrated down to his throat and his fingers are deftly untying the drawstrings on Levi’s pants. They’ve really mastered the art of multitasking.

Levi’s head is nodding slowly before his brain remembers Helm’s ambush from earlier. He starts to pull Nico’s shirt off while unsubtly nudging him towards one of the beds.

“I can’t babe.” He trips while toeing off his shoes and Nico manages to gracefully roll them onto the mattress, because of course he does. “I’m moving.”

Nico pulls back abruptly and stares down with that adorably blank face before it morphs into a confused frown.

Levi slides a hand into his hair and drags him back down for another heated kiss. He explains Taryn’s earlier declaration while Nico works on getting him out of his shirt.

“Well that was efficient of he— shit Levi.”

Levi rolls his hips upwards again. All other thoughts escape them for the next few minutes.

“I can help,” Nico offers suddenly. “We can use my car and probably only need one trip.”

It takes a minute for Levi to understand what he’s talking about. His brain is hazy in the best way. He stops Nico from dragging his pants down and lovingly trails his fingers along his biceps where they are bracketing his head.

“I think that might get a little distracting, don’t you think?”

Nico snorts softly and nips at the underside of his jaw, sucking lightly at the skin.

Their bubble is popped by the piercing sound of their phones both going off. They separate quickly and redress silently, each thinking about the incoming trauma to help redirect blood flow.

Once they’re in the elevator, Levi pushes up onto his toes to press a final chaste kiss to Nico’s mouth. “I would love your help. Thank you.”

Nico smiles fondly and lightly traces his pinky finger along the edge of Levi’s as the doors open.

——

Five hours and over two hundred sutures later, Levi is sprawled across the bench in the locker room waiting for Taryn.

She strolls in after a little while and Levi waits until she’s at her locker before starting his interrogation.

“Look it’s really not that difficult.” She pauses as she changes her shirt. “My roommate is breaking her lease, I need to find someone to take it over, you need an apartment, we’re friends. It’s a win win.”

“Isn’t it customary to ask about these things first? Discuss rent at least?” Levi stands and grabs his bag when she shuts her locker.

“Fine.” She tilts her head back and releases a long suffering sigh that Levi doesn’t really appreciate. “We can talk, but at Joe’s. I need a drink.”

He listens to her explain her surgery as they walk, “Koracyk let me use the drill!”, but as soon as they have their drinks and are sitting in a booth he redirects the conversation.

The rent isn’t bad, and definitely doable, and they agree on all of the basic house rules. By the time Casey and Dahlia join them he is much more excited about the whole thing.

“Oh, and Nico said he’d help so you guys can stay back at the apartment.” Levi is not expecting the catcalls this statement elicits. “What now?”

“Nico is going to be at your house,” Dahlia explains as if he’s a child. She pats his hand mockingly but there is an excited grin on her face. “Your mom’s house. Where your mom will be. This is a big step Levvy!”

Levi stares back at her with wide eyes. This amount of short circuiting in one day cannot be good for his brain. His voice squeaks when he finally finds it. “No it’s not.”

His friends laugh and he takes a moment to silently hate them.

“Parker, back me up. This doesn’t mean anything right?”

Casey gives him a look of sympathy while he takes a sip of his beer. “Meeting Alison’s parents was the most terrifying experience of my life.”

“You’ve been to war!”

Casey shrugs and Levi’s eyes flit between his friends looking for an ally. He quickly drains the rest of his beer.

——

The next morning Levi makes his way up the stairs into his mother’s kitchen rather than using his separate entrance. He is in need of some strong coffee and a full breakfast after last night.

Taryn had kindly supplied him with copious amounts of alcohol for the rest of the evening as he sat there in full panic mode, and he may or may not have still been a little drunk when he woke up this morning.

“Good morning, Matoki,” his mom calls out as he emerges. “This is a nice surprise.”

Levi shuffles over to where she is pouring coffee into her travel mug. He kisses her cheek and mumbles a greeting. She turns and holds her hands on either side of his face, shaking her head affectionately at his glassy eyes and generally rumpled appearance.

“You need a haircut,” is all she says.

Levi brushes her hands away before going to sit at the kitchen table. His mom keeps talking while grabbing a tall mug for him. She has to stretch up on her tiptoes to reach it but he doesn’t have the energy to get up and offer help.

“So what’s new with you these days? I feel like I haven’t seen you around here in weeks.”

Levi thinks of all the nights he’s spent at Nico’s and a blush rises on his cheeks. “Work’s been busy lately. Exams are coming up soon and all.”

Lydia eyes him like she knows that isn’t the whole story, she always knows, but blessedly doesn’t say anything.

“Just don’t overdo it. Now, I have to get to work but I just did the shopping so help yourself.” She presses a kiss to his forehead as she passes.

“Thanks mom.” She has grabbed her bag and has one hand on the doorknob before he remembers the other reason he had come upstairs. “Wait!” He scurries to the front door. “I have to tell you something.”

His mom turns to look at him expectantly with just a hint of concern at his outburst.

“Taryn’s roommate is leaving and she wants me to take the room. I’m moving in on Saturday.”

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. Instead she just grins and steps forward to give him a quick squeeze. “That’s wonderful, Levi. I know how much you’ve been wanting your own place. I won’t lie though, I’ll miss having you around here.”

Levi tries not to roll his eyes. They both know he’ll be over here at least once a week for dinner, the same way he was all through college.

“Well, Saturday, that is soon. Do you need me to call up your cousins? I won’t be able to help you lug everything out to the car by myself,” she laughs, gesturing down to her small frame. It’s deceptive. Lydia Schmitt is scarily strong.

“No it’s fine,” he assures her.” “My friends are going to help.” And my boyfriend is coming over to load the car. You won’t have to do anything except maybe mop me up off the floor.

The words almost pop out of his mouth and he has to bite his lip to keep them inside.

“I’m glad you have such caring friends, Matoki.” Her eyes go wide as she glances down at her watch. “I really need to go now but we can talk more later.”

She’s out the door in an instant, calling out a love you over her shoulder. Levi waves from the door before returning to the kitchen to raid her fridge.

——

After sleeping nine hours followed by back to back shifts, Saturday arrives quickly. There is surprisingly little to pack. The apartment is furnished and most of his clothes can just be shoved into a duffle. The rest of his belongings go into some boxes he picked up on the way home from work. When he’s done it’s a little strange to see just how little he actually owns.

There are more pressing matters at hand though. Nico is on his way and he still has yet to tell his mom about him. He feels terrible, this shouldn’t be such a big deal really. But the couple of chances he’s had were interrupted by his friend’s words from the other night.

What if this was too soon? What if he was putting too much pressure on their still relatively new relationship?

He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Nico properly in the last few days which was only adding to his anxiety. For all he knew Nico hadn’t realized this would be happening either and now he’s just springing this apparently massive step in their relationship on him.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway breaks the endless spiral of panic Levi had found himself in. He grabs the nearest box and starts up the stairs to the back entrance.

The sun is shining, a rarity for Seattle, and the light hits Nico in a way that honestly leaves Levi a little breathless. It could also be the stairs.

Nico jogs over, taking the box and gives him a perfunctory kiss before carrying it effortlessly back to his car. The henley he’s wearing clings nicely to his arms and Levi licks his lips as he watches unashamed. Nico walks back to him and Levi reaches up to pull him in for a proper kiss.

“Mmhmm, I was right,” he whispers against his lips. “Distracting.” He gives Nico’s arm a playful squeeze before drawing back.

Nico looks down with a wide grin on his face and Levi feels more at ease than he has in days. Things seem less scary when he has Nico Kim by his side.

“Listen, um….” His whole demeanor turns serious and Nico’s grin shrinks a little, his eyebrows scrunching together. “I don’t know if this is weird, or if it’s completely not weird, and I’m sorry to just kind of spring it on you but it didn’t seem like the kind of thing you text, which is ridiculous, especially if it isn’t weird at all, and—”

Nico clears his throat and wraps a soothing hand at the back of Levi’s neck. His thumb rubs gently at his scalp and it has the intended effect of both shutting Levi up and calming him down considerably.

“I want to introduce you to my mom,” he says in one breath. “Is that—is that ok?”

Nico’s smile is back tenfold and he nods his head. “I’d love that.” He sounds so genuinely sincere that all of the remaining worry in Levi washes away.

He leads him around the side of the house to the front door and they find his mom at the computer in the living room.

“Hey, mom?”

Lydia looks up and her eyes widen a little at the sight of the man beside her son. She takes off her glasses and crosses the room, extending her hand in greeting. “You must be one of Levi’s friends, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Actually, mom.” Levi glances at Nico and grabs his hand. Nico holds his hand a little tighter as a sign of support. “This is my boyfriend, Nico.”

She looks surprised for only a second before a smile radiating pure joy lights up her face. “Oh, well in that case, it is very nice to meet you, Nico. I take it you’re one of the reasons my son has been so happy recently?”

Nico shakes her hand, his other one still firmly clasped in Levi’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too ma’am, and I definitely hope so.”

Lydia observes the two of them for a moment, filled with so much pride and happiness for her boy. “You two should get going, you have a long day ahead of you. Let me know if you need any help, otherwise come say goodbye when you’re done.”

Levi doesn’t let go of Nico’s hand until they are in the basement. They work in a comfortable silence and have the car loaded in under thirty minutes.

After Levi closes the back he turns to see Nico talking with his mom. He watches as his two favorite people interact. The height difference is almost comical but everything else about this moment is perfect.

“You should come over for dinner sometime soon,” he hears his mom say.

“I’d love that, thank you.” Nico smiles as Levi joins them before excusing himself to give mother and son a moment alone.

“That’s a wonderful man you have there, you should keep him.” She smiles up at her son even as her eyes start to water.

“I plan to,” he assures her as he wraps his arms around her shoulders. Lydia holds on tight. “I just wanted to say thank you. For letting me come home after med school, and just for everything really.”

She retreats from their embrace and rests a hand on his cheek.

“You’re a good boy Levi.” With a final kiss to her cheek he walks over to Nico’s car and gets in.

Once they’re on the street, he sinks low into his seat and exhales dramatically.

“How did that go? I think I blacked out.”

#two ficlets in one week?#quick someone send me a captcha to make sure i haven’t been replaced by a robot #my fic #schmico fic #schmico #grey’s anatomy

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pi-cat000 · 5 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 20)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19

Part 21: here

LEWIS POV

“No. I would never… I,” Arthur starts explaining, hesitating, stuttering. He’s going to lie like he’s been doing the last two weeks. It’s not enough. Lewis wants, needs, the truth. He takes a deliberate, almost agressive, step forward, and Arthur flinches back and away. There is nothing but fear and confusion. Not the hate he expected. Fear. Arthur’s scare of him.

Why? What did he do wrong?

“What was that?” Vivi’s loud question draws him from the turbulent realisations swirling painfully about his brain. Lewis glances up from where he’s been absently tracing the floral patterns on the carpet. The hotel seems overly stuffy after his and Arthur’s disagreement. If you could call it a disagreement.

Vivi is standing, hands on her hips, visibly unimpressed.

“I messed up,” Lewis answers, scowling down again. Because, as much as he wanted answers, yelling accusations at a disorientated Arthur was not something a friend did. He should have waited for Arthur to calm down and collect himself. Instead, Lewis had deliberately tried to provoke a reaction, confirming that Arthur was terrified of him and managing to feel like garbage all at once. His friend’s terrified expression is burned at the forefront of his mind.

“…He was scared Viv. Really scared. It’s not hate…He’s scared.”

“Lewis…” Vivi’s tone loses some of its heat, becoming soft like she’s going to try and console him.

“No,” Lewis snaps, “You saw it. He was scared. And he’s probably terrified now that I…” He motions angrily at nothing.

Lewis is a big guy, he’s used to making people nervous. Usually, all it takes is a bit of common courtesy, polite mannerism, and some kind words for people to warm up to him. Never, not in a million years, had he anticipated the same hesitation and caution from Arthur. And he’s given it time like Vivi suggested. Waited almost two weeks. Arthur simply refused to interact with him, blocking all his attempts at reconciling. Now Lewis has gone and ruined his chances at fixing things. What was he supposed to do now?

“Stop that.”

A sharp poke in the shoulder breaks the flustered spiral of negative thought. Lewis glares. Vivi’s now sitting on the adjacent bed opposite him. Their knees are touching. She pulls back from her poke, stating, “You face is going to freeze if you frown for much longer.”

She waves away his incoming objections, grimacing as she does, “I don’t think that was a good indicator of whether Arthur is afraid or hates you. He was panicking...” She trails off then continues, stronger, “I think we should wait until Arthur’s in a better place to explain before jumping to conclusions.”

Lewis breaks eye contact, feeling a renewed sense of guilt. If his mama were here, she’d be equally unimpressed.

“I could have gone about that a lot better…”

Vivi nodes genuinely and Lewis winces, continuing, “But, I mean, you’ve noticed how he’s been avoiding us this last week.”

“Both of us. Not just you,” Vivi starts, and Lewis cuts her off.

“Arthur's fine with you. More than fine even. Whenever you're around, he’s at ease, less jumpy. I kind of thought he was jealous of us, but he always insists we do stuff together, so that’s not it.”

Vivi is silent, considering his statement.

Frustration, with his failure to adequately describe the situation or find a way to talk things out calmly before shit hit the fan, drives him on. Lewis continues, “When he’s around me he’s always looking down at his feet or flinching or finding an excuse to leave the room. I tried giving it time, but it’s been a week now. I must have done something because why else would he be acting like this.”

The fear in Arthur's eyes wasn’t something he’s going to forget in a hurry. It was a look reserved for a monster. He’s not a monster. Was he?

“But what have you done? I mean, I haven’t noticed a change.” Vivi doesn’t even deny it now, and it doesn’t make Lewis feel any better.

“That’s just it. I don’t know. I haven’t done anything which might have sparked a change in behaviour.”

“Then it can't be you, can it,” Vivi says frankly.

“What? No. Are you even listening? He was scared of me Viv, terrified, you saw it!”

Vivi huffs, tired but determined, “I’m not saying that he wasn’t scared…just that, maybe, it’s something else. If you’ve been acting how you always act and done nothing differently, then there is obviously another variable at play here. His fear of you is just a correlation. The cause must be related to something else.”

Lewis ignores Vivi’s logic in favour of muttering, “What if he thinks I forced him to come on this road trip? Is Arthur scared of road trips? Maybe he thinks, I don’t know, I’ll beat him up or something if he makes me mad.”

Vivi pokes him hard in the cheek this time, “We planned the road trip as a trio and, as soon as we knew Arthur had an aversion to supernatural things, we changed it. If anything, he would be avoiding me. I’m the one who’s been obsessing over it for the last mouth, lugging those books around everywhere. Also, Lewis, you haven’t thrown a punch since high school, and that was in Arthur’s defence, so I don’t think that’s it.”

There’s a contemplative silence and both he and Vivi turn to stare at the motel door in unison. He wants to believe Vivi, but his heart still aches, replaying scenes in which Arthur violently throws himself to the floor to escape him. Terrified. If it’s not something Lewis has done wrong, then how is he supposed to fix it?

“Mystery,” Vivi comments, half lost in thought. The dog perks up from his curled position on the bed, and Vivi looks apologetic before turning to Lewis, “Arthur’s been avoiding Mystery as well. Like, I thought it was odd, he hasn’t pet Mystery once in the last two weeks. Then there’s his forgetfulness as well. It’s been really obtrusive lately. I was going to bring it up once we had settled into the road a bit more.”

Lewis examines the small dog. He had noticed Arthur being a lot less friendly towards the Mystery. It just hadn’t been a top concern of his.

“But what’s the link between all that?”

“I don’t know. But I bet there is one,” Vivi declares before deflating, adding quietly, “I thought it was the supernatural stuff. I wanted it to be the supernatural stuff cause that’s an easy fix. But it’s not that. I should have tried harder to get better answers.”

Silence.

“I haven’t seen him panic that bad since his dad tried to run off with him,” She sighs, fiddling with her sleeve, “Sorry I didn’t believe you when you brought this up a week ago…”

Vivi sounds lost, and Lewis feels even worse for letting his emotions get the better of him.

He takes her hand, “It’s okay…I mean…you know Arthur’s super suborn when he wants to be. And I do tend to overreact emotionally on occasion.”

She smiles that warm smile he loves.

“Only sometimes…” She teases lightly. The warmth lasts for a second before fading back to worry and concern. Lewis glances back towards the door.

“When he comes back in…I think you should ask all the questions. Maybe I’ll leave the room. If I’m somehow triggering whatever is scaring Arthur, then it’s better if I’m not around for the questioning.” Also, though he’s feeling calmer now, he doesn’t think he can handle Arthur looking at him like that again without breaking down himself.

Vivi nodes unhappily before straightening, confidence growing again as she pushes past her momenty falter.

“We’ll stay in this ugly motel for the next month if we have to,” She asserts, “Eventually Arthur will have to tell us the truth, even if it’s simply because there’s no high-speed internet out here.”

Lewis lets a small smile tug at his lips. Any further planning is interrupted by Mystery who abruptly stands, darting towards the door and barking loudly. Before either of them can address the uncharacteristic behaviour, they hear the rumble of a familiar engine starting up. Lewis and Vivi share a glance, instantly reaching the same conclusion.

Vivi is at the door, retching it open a second later, Lewis at her back. They tumble out onto the pavement just in time to see the back end of Arthur’s van turn onto the main road. That doesn’t stop Vivi from chasing after it. She sprints off across the concrete, yelling Arthur’s name. Lewis remains still, tracking the van as it speeds back the way they’d come, leaving Vivi to eat dust. Immediately, Lewis pulls out his phone, flicking through his contacts and holding it anxiously to his ear. It rings for several long seconds and goes to Arthur’s voice mail. He curses, slowly lowering his arm.

Vivi’s trudges back towards him, furiously tapping away at her own phone.

“He’s not answering!” She’s visibly unhappy, more then she had been seconds ago, “He said he’d answer our questions. Now he’s driving off god knows where. Do you think he’ll come back?”

Lewis looks back towards the main road, heart sinking. Morning sunlight is reflecting off car windows as they zip by. Across from the motel is a gas station and another equally dilapidated building. This pattern repeats a short way down before the buildings drop off to be replaced by empty flatland. He doesn’t think Arthur’s coming back. What if it’s because Lewis has scared him off. Because he couldn’t hold his temper for two seconds!

Vivi interprets his silence as the negative it is, snapping a frustrated, “Why though? Why would he leave so suddenly.”

She begins to pace back and forth, trying to answer her own questions, “If he says he’s going to stay, why would he leave without telling us? Unless he can’t tell us. Something really bad maybe…but what? What aren’t you telling us, Arthur? Damn it. Why?”

Lewis feels his throat closing up like he’s inhaled a sharp lump.

“No. Don’t you start again,” Vivi states before he can say anything disparaging about himself, “This isn’t your fault. Got it.”

Abruptly, she turns and stomps back to the motel room. Lewis swallows, looking down at Mystery who offers him a confused lopsided stare, before following behind. When he enters the room, Vivi is on the floor, pulling apart Arthur’s bag.

“What are you doing?” Lewis hesitates in the door.

“There’s got to be something,” Vivi says while focused on the bag. Lewis is leerily about going through Arthur’s stuff knowing how private the other man is. A worried Vivi has no such qualms.

“He’s left his laptop. He never goes anywhere without his laptop,” She mutters, throwing Arthur’s clothes across the ground in her hurry.

She pulls up a small plastic bottle and shakes. It rattles.

“Did know he was taking these again?”

“Anxiety medication?” He questions, squinting at the script on the bottle’s side. He shakes his head mutely. It’s dated to last week. Lewis bets, if he doubled checked, it would match up to the day Arthur went on his mysterious shopping trip. Vivi pulls out several pieces of loose paper, rifling through them, pausing when one catches her attention. Wordlessly, she holds it up to Lewis.

It’s a referral to a psychologist dated to the same day as the pills.

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell us?” Vivi asks, and Lewis has nothing to alleviate her worry. All he knows for sure is, whatever is wrong, it’s making Arthur scared of him. Now Arthur’s gone, and he can't even apologise.

“Something’s not right,” Vivi mumbles to herself.

Note: Reverse blame game: Instead of blaming other people you blame yourself. Better hurry guys. Clock’s ticking.

Part 21: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Lewis pepper #ViVi #Mystery just chilling in the background watching shit go down #angst #time travel

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years

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Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapter Summary: Gray lies to keep himself safe, and Natsu tries to help.

Chapters (3/17): 1 | 2 | 3 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

** TW for verbal/emotional abuse and depressed/implied suicidal thoughts

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i hope people change

fear \ ˈfir noun : an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger

vii april

Gray is several blocks away from the hotel when he realizes that he forgot his jacket, and he has no idea where he is. They had taken a cab from the bar, and Gray had been too busy kissing Natsu to focus on where they were going. The streetlights blur together as he looks around desperately for something familiar.

His phone starts to buzz in his pocket and a wave of panic rushes through Gray as he ducks into a side alley and looks down at the screen.

Incoming Call – Joel

“Shit,” he whispers.

Gray’s hands shake so badly that he nearly drops the phone. He can’t answer – Joel will hear that he’s wasted and find out that Gray’s not at home. But if Gray ignores the call, it might be worse.

The terror and intoxication and guilt all hit him at the same time, and he turns to the side and throws up on the ground. Rough brick scrapes against his bare arm as he leans heavily on the wall, retching and choking until nothing comes up but bile. It burns the back of his throat and his eyes water so badly he can barely see.

His phone buzzes again with a text – Answer your phone. Two seconds later it starts ringing again, and Gray groans, tipping his head back against the wall and hitting ‘accept.’

“Hey,” he says weakly, trying his best not to slur his words. The ground feels like it’s moving underneath him and he swallows hard, focusing on a crack in the brick across the alley.

“Why didn’t you answer the first time?” Joel’s voice is hard and sharp, and Gray swallows back tears, wiping his face. “I’ve been texting you all night, what the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Gray says, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s sure Joel can hear his pounding heart through the phone.

“Where are you?”

Continue reading on AO3

A million answers run through Gray’s mind. He can't say he’s at home – Joel can probably hear the traffic from the street, and he’ll ask Gray to prove it by taking a picture of himself. But if Gray says he’s out, and he sounds drunk...

“I just left the drugstore,” he lies, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I was—I don’t feel good. I think I have the flu so I went to get some Gravol.” There’s silence on the other end of the line, and Gray quickly adds, “I’m sorry, I was asleep, I didn’t see your texts.”

“Your phone is supposed to be on,” Joel says, but some of the sharpness has melted away from his voice.

“I left it in the living room,” Gray says, taking a step back from the puddle of vomit at his feet. His stomach roils and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from throwing up again. “I’m sorry.”

Joel sighs, and Gray can picture the disappointed look on his face. “I was worried about you,” Joel says, and his voice is suddenly soft and concerned. “Don’t scare me like that, baby. I didn’t mean to get mad, you just worry me. I care about you.”

Part of Gray believes him. It is his fault – he shouldn’t be lying, shouldn’t be out drinking, shouldn’t be making out with his ex-boyfriend while his current boyfriend is out of town.

A quiet, sad part of him whispers, you deserve better. You shouldn’t have to be afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Gray says again.

There's silence on the other end of the line, and it’s almost worse than the yelling.

“I’m coming home,” Joel says finally, and Gray’s intoxicated brain finally hears the traffic in the background of Joel’s call. He’s in his car.

Shit.

“You—you don’t have to,” Gray tries to protest, but Joel cuts him off.

“If you’re sick, I wanna take care of you.” The words are caring, but Gray can feel the edge behind them. Joel doesn’t believe him. “I’ll be home in a few hours, okay?”

Gray digs his fingernails into his palm as his mind starts racing. He can’t get out of this – Joel will know Gray’s lying as soon as he gets home. If Gray spends money on a cab, Joel will see it on the credit card statement, and Gray won’t have the Gravol or the receipt from the drugstore, and he smells like beer and probably like Natsu’s cologne, and—

“I’ll see you soon,” Joel says. “Answer your phone the next time I call you.”

Then the line goes dead, and Gray leans over and throws up again, giving in to the fear and nausea.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Natsu’s there in the alley suddenly, arm wrapped around Gray’s shoulders, rubbing his arm.

“G-go ‘way,” Gray mumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Everything is blurry and he realizes that he’s crying. There’s a hollow ache in his chest that he can’t push away anymore, and he just wants it to end.

“I’m not going anywhere, you idiot,” Natsu says gently, and he wraps Gray’s forgotten jacket around his shoulders. He wraps his fingers around Gray’s bicep gently, but Gray pulls his arm away, backing up and hitting his elbow on the brick wall. He can’t even feel it.

“I gotta...” Gray looks down at his phone and nearly throws it to the ground. He wants to smash it to a million pieces. “I gotta go home.”

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” Natsu says, reaching out again and brushing his fingers across Gray’s shoulder. Gray doesn’t pull away this time – he's too tired. “C’mon, come sit down with me.”

Gray gives in, letting Natsu take him by the elbow and guide him out of the alley. They head back to the hotel in silence, and when they finally sit down on the concrete bench outside the front doors, Gray’s managed to stop crying.

“I’m sorry,” Natsu says softly, rubbing his thumb over Gray’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had a—I wouldn’t have asked, I’m—”

“’s okay,” Gray says, shaking his head. He’s exhausted, and it’s almost enough to numb the fear. “My fault, I shouldn’t be... he said to stay home, should’a listened.”

“Are you still with Joel?” Natsu asks. Gray nods, blinking to try and clear his vision.

“He’s outta town, an’... but I gotta go home, he’s coming back.”

Natsu frowns, and Gray can feel his hesitation before he asks, “Gray, are you okay?”

“’m fine,” Gray says quickly.

“You don’t seem fine,” Natsu argues, and Gray suddenly wants to scream at him.

He shoves Natsu away, pulling his jacket tighter around him. There are puddles on the street and they’re reflecting the neon lights of the 24-hour donair place across the street. Gray still doesn’t know where he is.

“Gray, I’m worried about you,” Natsu says gently. He moves from the bench to crouch down in front of Gray and puts his hand on Gray’s leg. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Gray insists, because maybe if he says it enough times, Natsu will stop asking. “I need—wh-where are we? I need to go home.”

“Kensington,” Natsu says, sighing. He squeezes Gray’s knee. “Gray, look at me.” Gray shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the dirty pavement. “Is... is Joel hurting you?”

“No,” Gray says automatically. “He’s just worried.”

His mind is racing. Kensington is on the opposite end of town from their apartment, and it’ll take at least half an hour to get home. If he flags a cab down now, he’ll have time to run to the drugstore and back to their apartment before Joel makes it there.

But then the time on the receipt will be after their phone call, and Gray still doesn’t know how he’s going to pay for the cab without Joel seeing. He used the cash he’d been saving up at the bar – he’s so fucking stupid.

“Fuck,” he whispers, dropping his head into his hands.

“How can I help?” Natsu asks. “What can I do?”

His voice is so gentle and Gray wants to cry again, but he’s got nothing left.

“Do you have any Gravol?” he asks, suddenly. Natsu gives him a strange look and shakes his head, then looks down at his phone and types something in.

“No, but there’s a drugstore just down the street,” he says. “You want me to go get some for you?”

If Natsu buys it, Gray won’t have a receipt, but it’s better than having one with the wrong time. His head hurts from the web of lies he’s tangled himself up in, and he’s starting to feel like he should just tell the truth and take what comes.

If Joel gets mad enough, maybe Gray won’t have to worry about it hurting anymore.

“Are you okay to wait here?” Natsu asks. Gray looks up at him blearily and hates the look of pity in Natsu’s eyes. “I’ll go get you the Gravol, then I’ll come back. If I pay for a cab to get you home, will that help?”

Natsu knows. He knows, and he’s trying to help, and Gray hates it.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, rubbing his face. He wants to say thank you, but he can’t.

Natsu doesn’t take long at the drugstore, and when the cab finally comes, Gray curls up in the passenger seat with the Gravol tucked in his pocket.

“Here,” Natsu says, passing Gray a piece of folded paper through the window. “I just...”

“I know,” Gray says softly, and he lets Natsu squeeze his hand before the driver pulls away.

Gray doesn’t open the paper until they’re a few blocks away from the apartment. There’s a fifty-dollar bill tucked inside, and behind it is a phone number and a note in Natsu’s messy handwriting.

I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t seem okay. I miss you. I know it’s been a long time, but I never stopped thinking about you. Text me, okay? I just wanna know if you’re safe.

Love, Natsu

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtpride2019 #day 4 #i hope people change #gratsu #natray #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #abuse #angst #mind the warnings #update #new chapter #my fic #prompt

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purplethebunny · 6 years

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In which I describe the experience of speaking with family members about the engagement and creatively rage against my father’s casual heteronormative bullshit.

The same evening that I cariño encantador propsed to me, I called the blood family members who should probably know before facebook does – there were a lot of witnesses.

I called my sister first, who was sleepy but congratulatory. She texted me a bit more during the evening to really underline it. My relationship with my sister is…. complicated. That said, I expect her to essentially respect whatever boundaries I set about wedding planning or whatever with only minimal interference. I also expect that she has a greater understanding of the meaning of this in my life. Like, she’s stuck in her paradigm, her desperate need to be loved and how that affects all of her choices, but she understands enough to at least put a face on it for a minute, to be kind about it.

When she texted me later, she said “aren’t you glad you didn’t kill yourself before you met Ruby?” She’s damn right too.

I called my mom next, who I also woke up. I think her husband was a biiiiiit irritated, but I’m sure he’ll survive. Mom said congrats and started chatting with me about her recent tooth problem. She wanted to make sure I’d called my sister. This was all a little strange – I really don’t think my mom knows what to say. I don’t think she views my partner as one who is “suitable” for me, and I really do think it’s partially racism, partially her own never-healthily-fulfilled obsession with big, strong men doing big, strong things. My mother is more easily understood if you assume that she has no concept of the fact that other individuals have vastly different internal lives from her own.

I put off talking to my dad until the next day. My father and I aren’t connected on facebook by my choice. I called him in the afternoon the following day, shortly before I had to leave for another task (intentionally). I tried to hit his cell phone first, but it was straight to voicemail. I reached him at his store.

My dad initially sounded confused. He sounded entirely baffled. I can’t entirely understand why because we haven’t enough of a relationship for me to guess. It was offputting. We then had what amounts to yet another awkward conversation where we clearly do not speak the same language.

After the bafflement, he congratulated me and began offering advice. My father is married to his fifth or sixth wife, and while it seems to have staying power, he’s left a swath of life destruction behind him. My father exhibits the essential selfishness of capitalism: get the best deal you can out of anyone. I believe the only kind thing my mother has ever said about him is that he always paid his child support on time. I wouldn’t even give that (shit’s court ordered yo).

So, when his next statement is “You’ll find real happiness,” I have to swallow my tongue rather than just laugh at him. “I am happy” I say, trying to communication with the most perfunctory language that I’ve not said yes because I’m bound by some biblical or cultural scripture, trying to communicate that I am happy.

“Oh no,” he responds, “I mean several years down the line when the honeymoon has worn off.” It strikes me that we haven’t anything close to the same conceptual understanding of relationships, the importance of them in our live, or neurobiology. I’m stuck and can’t respond. What I’d like to explain is that we DID that. We’ve DONE that. And that I have genuinely more experience in relationships than he does, in vulnerability and courage, in adoration and foolhardiness. I have significantly more experience than he does in owning up to my mistakes, in forgiveness and acceptance, in staying through and being stronger for it than he ever has. I want to tell him how cowardly I find him, how disgusting I think his treatment of all the women in his life is, but I’m stuck on my tongue, on how to phrase it without destroying whatever this is. So he keeps talking.

He talks about his wife, how they’ve been together for 18 years and how there are disappointments and battles and things they can’t stand but how they just “get used to it” and are too old to change now. Like, how do I respond that I could have settled, I could have torn out pieces of me and left them behind like breadcrumbs in a forest of unrelenting dick pics? How I could have refused any sort of risk, how I’ve done that? How I already know how to origami myself inside of myself until I am a frog, a bird, a flower, instead of a galaxy? How do I explain that I’m unwilling to settle, that I know it takes courage to be with me and that this is part of what my dear love, shaking and sweating but with his strong voice, offered me when he asked me to be his wife?

I don’t.

I say “Well, I’m glad you have because Judy’s kind of great.” And she is, for someone I’ve met a dozen times and whom I haven’t had a proper conversation with since I was in my 20s. She’s fine.

He replies jovially “Yeah, I only really stay with her for the income and cooking. You know how men are.” Cue laughter.

I don’t say anything.

Later, when telling my roommate of this (known ‘im since I was 14 and he knows my dad) he laughed and said “Chuck is such a slimeball HERPADERPA BETTER LEARN TO COOK.”

Later, when I told my partner about this, he responded “HAAA! He thinks I’m a man.”

Right in that moment I just can’t tell him how incredibly stupid he sounds and, you know, I think we’ve reached the point where the gulf between our experiences and values is too great to bridge without extensive emotional labor. Labor that I do not want to provide because he sees it as his right. Labor I am unwilling to provide because the men in my life deserve better than a crude joke suggesting they have an inability to perform basic functions.

I stay silent and he awkwardly tries to pick the conversation back up. He asks me to send a picture, which I later realize is because he has no idea who my partner is.

This is the most surreal moment for me. All of my father’s relationships from my mother onward have had some distinct affect on my life (Judy’s is mostly stability). I realized that my father has no awareness of who my partner is because he sees my relationships from the lens of teenage romance. My father is under the impression that “millennial” does not mean “adult under 40”. My father is entirely unaware that I am an adult closer to mammogram time than I am away from it. My partner is nearly 40. Neither does he know my partners name, background, or what is important and beautiful about our relationship.

I send my father the picture, putting us against a rainbow backdrop in my house as the only “fuck you” I can manage.

I feel like a coward, but since I don’t assess this relationship as worth the work or risk it would take to fix it, I don’t think I can do elsewise at this time. I think this particular relationship is headed for a change.

#alfaro wed #engagement #parents #moi #text post #cw: suicide mention #relationship anarchy

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lifeinahole27 · 7 years

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CS ff: “Wait for the Moonrise” (5/10) (au)

Summary: Emma doesn’t remember who she was before she was found in the woods, but she knows that she has a few close friends, a good job, and a loyal cat that greets her every day when she gets home from work. What she doesn’t know, however, is that her past is about to catch up to her in the strangest of ways. She learns quickly that not everything is as it seems, not even her cat.

Rating: E

Content warnings: smutty smut, brief mentions of the loss of a hand

Chapter specific content warnings: One hella curious/naked pirate. Take that however you’d like (and you have a 50/50 shot of being correct, I’m sure). Maybe some strong language, but otherwise this is a fairly tame chapter for warnings.

A/N: Upon completion of this chapter, you will officially know half the story. Hooray!!!! Thanks to the people that made this fic possible: @clockadile for kick-ass art, @captainstudmuffin, @phiralovesloki, @sambethe for all the handholds and support and beta and comments and late nights and dealing with a super pain-in-the-ass writer (ME I AM SO SORRY YOU GUYS), @pocket-anon for her endless encouragement and positive attitude when I was freaking out about this, and I’ve failed to thank her up to this point (BECAUSE I AM LEGIT A TERRIBLE PERSON), and to @captainswanbigbang because if it didn’t exist, this story would still be in my WIP folder, probably being edged towards the “Possible Neverminds” subfolder...

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Catch it on Ao3 or FFN! And catch @clockadile‘s artwork HERE!

It turns out that apple martinis and tequila are a terrible combination, at least that's certainly what Emma's head and stomach inform her of as she wakes up. Suddenly, the idea of going out with Regina is the worst idea she's ever had, or at least the worst she remembers.

Nearby, her phone starts ringing, and she reaches out to answer it more to stop the racket rather than to find out who is calling her on her day off.

“Emma, I’m sorry, but I need you to swing by and take calls at the station while Mulan and I are out on an emergency call. There’s apparently been some kind of commotion down at the docks and Merida and Phillip are already out on a traffic stop.”

“But all I have to do is answer the phones, right?”

“Oh, geez, you sound terrible. Are you ill?”

“No, I went out with Regina last night.”

“Apple martinis?”

“Apple martinis,” she confirms. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. But I’m not wearing my uniform.”

“That’s fine. You’re a savior, Emma.”

She makes a crude noise as she hangs up the call, rolling from the bed and throwing on a pair of jeans from her floor. She’s almost to the front door when she realizes she hasn’t fed her cat, so she jogs back to the kitchen to drop a handful of dry food in his bowl as she races back to the door.

“Sorry, Cat! I promise I’ll give you tuna when I get home!”

Then she’s out the door and running to her car so she can drive the speed limit like a good, law-abiding cop.

Of course, as all emergency calls go, her day ends up being a lot more than just answering the phones, and it’s halfway through the second hour that Emma is incredibly grateful she keeps an extra set of clothes in her locker. The second Phillip and Merida get back from an additional call down at The Rabbit Hole, Will Scarlet promptly throws up all over her.

From there, a fight breaks out between the drunk and Leroy, and it takes all three of them to break up the two of them. Emma throws her soiled clothes (dampened all the way down to her underwear) on the floor in disgust and runs through the dinky shower they have for just such moments.

“Hey, Emma? Can you get down to the docks to help Graham? Apparently, the accident was a little bigger than they originally thought and they can’t get the workers to stop walking around without giving their full statements. He and Mulan are really struggling.”

She pulls on her backup shoes and holds back every urge to grumble or groan in aggravation. At least leaving the station means she can swing by Granny’s and get a damn cup of coffee. Even as she thinks it, she whips out her phone and places the to-go order for a grilled cheese, as well, so she can combat some of the hangover and severe case of Hulk that’s lingering in her periphery.

It takes hours for her to get home, and when she does, she all but dropkicks the bag of her dirty clothes into the washing machine before stomping into the kitchen. It’s only after she’s downed half a bottle of water that she finally takes a deep breath. She takes yet another grilled cheese out of a take-out bag to set up her own dinner, only pausing to dump a healthy amount of ketchup into the lid of the Styrofoam container to dip her onion rings.

She stands at the counter to eat it, sighing in relief when she licks the last crumbs from her fingers and dumps the container in the garbage. Ugh. That’s full, too. She’ll have to take that out before she can fully relax. While she’s at it, she opens the fridge to see if there’s anything expired and sees the partial can of tuna on the second shelf.

“Shit, I can’t believe I forgot to feed him when I got home,” she mutters to herself. “Cat! Come get your dinner!” She spoons the last of the tuna into his dish, dripping the juice from the can all over the floor when she checks her watch. “Dammit!”

Silence greets her, which is odd. There are days that he meanders from the bedroom after a lengthy nap, still blinking open his eyes as he heads for his food dish, but this is late even for him. She figures he’ll come out soon and pulls a fresh liner out of the box under the sink to change out the garbage can.

“Cat? Come on, buddy, it’s dinner time. I did promise you tuna tonight, little man.”

Emma’s too busy fussing with wrangling the bag from the trash can to notice the footfalls that finally come in response to her voice.

“I’d much rather prefer something a little more human, if you don’t mind.”

Emma whirls around, faced with the man standing at the entrance to her kitchen wrapped in nothing but the blanket she still keeps in the corner for the nights Cat doesn’t sleep next to her. In her state of shock, Emma slips on the tuna juice she spilled and goes down hard – hard enough that she should worry, whenever she comes to, about whether or not she has a concussion.

-x-

When Ursula told him that she’d be changing him into a creature that would be able to track and blend in at the same time, he had imagined something far more majestic. He imagined himself a powerful beast of moderate size that could sniff out Emma immediately and find his way to her heart. The sea witch told him to close his eyes, and when he awoke, he would already be in the land without magic, and he would already be transformed.

And awake he did. His first dismay is finding that he was not transformed with all his limbs, and honestly wonders if it’s because Ursula couldn’t change what wasn’t there, or if it’s because he’s a pirate and ignored one too many mermaids during his time on the seas. The second problem is the vessel she chose to send him in. It takes one look around him to realize everything is much larger than he is, and it takes great effort and time to haul himself up the beach and away from the incoming tide that woke him.

Sand, it turns out, is not just difficult when barefoot. It’s also hell on paws. On the side of a building, he spots a ledge that might be a good vantage point for him to better see anything at all. He aims and leaps, surprised when he makes it, then struts along the window ledge with pride; he shouldn’t have doubted himself at all. He’s Captain Hook, and he can accomplish anything he sets his mind to. The proof is in the fact that he’s here, in the land where he will find Emma and bring her home, where all others doubted him.

He’s here – as a bloody house cat.

When he catches sight of himself in the window, his back arches and his fur fluffs out in all directions. He knows that’s his own reflection and yet, the indignity of being turned from his handsome self into something most often kept in barns to catch mice is just too much for him.

With an endless stream of curses directed towards that bloody witch, he jumps from the ledge and moves onward. From what he can tell, the waterline is at the edge of town, and he needs to head somewhere he’ll be able to find people. Where there are people, there are bound to be scents that he’ll be able to pick up. Currently, all he can still smell is sea water and fish, probably left on a grudge by Ursula herself.

Much like the search for Emma when she first went missing, Killian takes a methodical approach to searching for her here. He’s totally unfamiliar with the terrain, so it takes longer than he wants, but there’s no shortage of places for him to hide for a night when he needs to sleep, and there’s a food establishment that excels at wasting their leftovers, which results in Killian eating quite well more than one night in a row.

During the daytime, he’s careful to remain discretely hidden. There’s only one person he seeks, and he still hasn’t caught scent of her yet, even after a week of searching. There are two places where he catches what might be her on the air, but by the time he finds a trail of the smell, it’s already dissipating.

It’s almost pure luck that he ends up behind the building he does at the start of his second week searching. He’s judging the dumpster, trying to surmise if he’ll get trapped inside if he makes the jump, but he’s distracted when a blur of a scent catches in the wind. He immediately trots around the building, and he picks up speed and fully runs when he sees her blonde hair.

He wants to call out; he even tries meowing as loud as he can, but it’s of no use. She’s already in one of the metal contraptions he’s dodged more times than he can count at this point, and she’s pulling away. He skids to a stop, changing direction in order to avoid being run over by Emma, and watches with disappointment as she goes.

By the time she returns home that evening, Killian is already asleep, having waited as long as he could but still unable to resist his natural urge to rest. From the rafters of the parking structure, he thinks he’ll wake when she comes home, but she exits her vehicle and heads for her dwelling without him stirring at all.

The next day, he’s woken by a rude man with a broom, shooing him out of his hiding spot and chasing him down the road. Killian doesn’t look back, just runs as fast as he can until he no longer hears the thunderous footsteps behind him. He huffs in exhaustion from his new crouched hiding spot, squeezed between bushes and the side of a house, and he tries to decide how he’ll possibly be able to keep watch and keep alive at the same time. Neither are working out so well for him at the moment.

He finds a new hiding spot each time he must rest, unwilling to be lulled into false complacency again by believing himself invisible. At another moment, a young lass of maybe eight or nine catches sight of him and wants to keep him, and it’s only thanks to her mother’s insistence that they cannot adopt him and his own ability to escape situations that saves his tail (almost literally).

After several failed attempts to get her attention, Killian isn’t sure that he’ll ever succeed. That’s not something he ever thought after commandeering his brother’s ship, and it’s certainly not something he ever expected to think after going through everything he did. He’s survived unlikely sea storms, and an encounter with the Dark One himself with only a hand lost in the process.

But this land, and this woman, are both so equally frustrating, that he’s surprised he hasn’t just curled up to perish in one of his hiding spots yet. That thought swirls about his head, and then he realizes it could be the new plan. First, he must wait for nightfall. There’s a time that the man with the broom always disappears, and he assumes that’s when he retires for the evening.

What Killian doesn’t anticipate is the rapid cooling of the temperatures as he enacts his disguised waiting on the stoop for her to return. Pretending to be nearing death is much easier when the concrete beneath his smaller body is chilling his bones. He does fall asleep again while waiting, and as the weather gets colder, it becomes less of an act and more of him curling up tighter in order to not die before she gets home.

It takes hours, by his count, but when he hears someone approaching, he somehow knows it’ll be her. Sure enough, when he squints open an eye, Emma is looking back at him in indecision. The wind gusts harder, and he closes his eyes and finds the hope he’s kept buried in his heart all this time, holding onto it tightly as he shivers uncontrollably.

She lifts him carefully, and he feels his entire body sag with relief that it worked. His plan worked. He stays curled the way she puts him, letting her take control and finding he doesn’t have the energy to fight, even if he wanted to. He’s transferred from her clothing to a towel, and from the towel (and a minor inspection for injuries, he assumes) to a warm blanket. When she cradles him against her, he finally opens his eyes to look at her fully, and he would weep with joy if he were human.

He’s in the arms of Emma Swan, who may have become leaner in the last three years, but her eyes still shine with care, and her arms still feel like home. He falls asleep again, knowing for sure that he’s safe where he is, and he is where he belongs.

When he wakes up, he’s surrounded by Emma’s scent, both from the blanket and from the woman asleep beneath him.

Not the way I would’ve preferred it, he thinks, but he wiggles free of the blanket and her arms as he becomes aware of the second scent he picked up. She’s put out food for him. In his obsession to get to her, he’s forgotten to eat for days, he thinks. It’s hard to gauge time when everything seems so much bigger and minutes feel like years. He tries to savor the tuna she’s placed in a bowl, but as soon as he tastes his first bite, he loses all bits of himself and he’s chasing the bowl across the table for the last scraps.

He abandons that bowl when he realizes there’s a second, this one filled with water. It’s clean water, not in the form of a puddle with dirt and grime visible in the bottom, and in his excitement, he drinks until his nose hits the bottom of the bowl. He twitches back, displeased with the liquid that’s just ended up in his nostrils, and sneezes once. Maybe there’s still some tuna that he missed in the bowl.

Alas, it is definitely empty, but he licks at the sides and bottom of the bowl until he’s found every crumb, every drop of the salty liquid it rested in, and licks the bowl right off the short table she placed it on. He hears a sigh to his left and looks over at Emma asleep on the couch.

Emma. Emma will have more food for him. He leaps with ease the short distance from table back to her lap, and he sets about waking her up so he might request more food. Instead of anything that might be polite, however, Killian emits a single, obnoxious meow.

She mumbles a couple noises back at him, lifting and waving her hand as her brows draw together in her sleep. But he is hungry, and she has more food for him, he just knows it. He meows again, pressing his paw into her thigh a little harder and putting his weight on that front leg. When she opens her eyes, his ears perk up and he feels his whiskers twitch. It’s worth the sleepy smile she gives him, and he happily follows her when she asks if he wants more food. He watches from his perch on the floor as she fills each dish again and then carries them back to where they were before.

Immediately, he hops back up on the table and heads straight for the tuna. As her hand strokes down his back, his body’s natural instincts kick in and he begins to purr, but with his mouth otherwise occupied with the food, it comes out more as a snarfled sound, broken by a chatty meow.

He comes back to himself when he finishes eating, and there’s some part of him that feels shame at his behavior, but he’s quickly realizing that if he’s to be stuck this way for all but three days per moon cycle, he’d better get used to the fact that he won’t always have control of his human instincts.

This proves true more than ever after Emma comes home after their terrifying run in with the animal doctor that violated him earlier in the day. She dumps toys that he would scoff at if he were himself, but this body decides that it must attack, and it must destroy every small mouse, no matter how artificial they are.

Emma looks increasingly happy as he chases small bells to and fro across the carpet, however, so he does something he hasn’t done since he was a lad and lets go. His cat instincts immediately take over and there’s only some awareness in the back of his mind of his real name and his actual purpose. Otherwise, there’s a feather on a string that will soon be meeting with its demise, if he has anything to say about it.

Most amazingly, Emma invites him into her bed that night, informing him that she tends to have spatial issues while she sleeps. Not that she knows this, but he definitely already knows. And for the first time since she took him in, he has a moment of panic. He knows, because this was the woman he was to spend his life with. It’s been three years, and she may not even know who he is. It suddenly dawns on him that she could’ve fallen for someone in the time it took for him to get here, and he’s incredibly grateful that it doesn’t seem to be the case.

He considers going to his makeshift bed again, because it’s comfortable enough and he’s very aware of the fact that he no longer knows this woman like he used to, but something stops him. It’s the glimmer in her eye when she invites him up that gives away how lonely she is, and he cannot resist after that. He nimbly jumps up, making sure to stay as far from her legs as possible, and settles himself in. He goes to sleep that night trying to hold onto the hope that he will succeed, but feeling, for the first time in three years, the same hopelessness he felt on the morning he found her gone.

Over the next few weeks, Killian finds out much about Emma’s life since she was kidnapped, including the day she was found in the woods. She relays the information so offhandedly that he wonders if that’s how she handled it at the moment or if time has dulled her reactions to her own reappearance. She mentions that she doesn’t remember parts of her life still, and as Killian listens to her talk, he realizes that she must have no memory of Misthaven at all. Which means she doesn’t know she’s missing.

But where does she think her parents are? Will she remember him when he changes? Would it be better if he referred to her by her title or no? The thoughts go spiraling through his mind, and it makes him so dizzy that he spends much of the day napping.

“I don’t know where this ring came from,” she admits that night. “It was on my finger when I was found, but Regina seemed so surprised to see it that I honestly wonder if it’s not just something I found in the woods and lied about when she asked. I told her it was my mother’s.”

He’s on the back of the couch, settled on his belly with his arms stretched out in front of him, and he pulls them back and inches forward as she mentions this. There are a couple things that catch his attention. One is Regina’s name. There’s little chance it could be the same Regina from Misthaven’s history books, but then again, this is the Dark One’s creation. The second thing is the fact that Emma seems to somehow know the ring came from her mother, even if she doesn’t actively remember it. He scoots so close while she speaks that they’re both surprised when she turns her head and her nose is inches from his.

Emma leans forward once, bopping his nose with hers in an affectionate move, and the smile she gives him is worth the fact that he’s relieving himself in something like sand, but not sand, and better than sand, but so much worse than sand. When he transforms, he will definitely have some words to share with Emma regarding his experiences as a cat.

Since he cannot converse with her, Killian spends his time reliving their timeline of a relationship from meeting to that final morning. There are the tender young ages, where everything was new and they were careless with their words and their bodies, flinging them from branch to branch in the trees in the meadow they would claim as their own. He tries to remember every nuance of that adolescent friendship, how her eyes looked when she was angry, the cherry stain of her lips after they were given tarts that had just cooled.

Another day passes, and he thinks of the years when their friendship grew into something uncertain. Hanging from the curtains while Emma works on a strange invention, he thinks of the first time he offered his arm before they walked to the flower meadow and Emma took it, a blush appearing on her cheeks when he rested his hand over hers.

Killian is again struck with the terror that Emma will recognize he’s not a whole person anymore without his other hand. At the same time, he realizes he’s stuck in the curtains. His one paw is too entangled in the fabric and if he retracts his claws, he’ll surely fall and injure himself. He has a couple options, but one of them is a little easier than the rest.

With a sad meow, he looks over his shoulder towards Emma. She’s wrapped up in her work, but the second the noise comes out of him, she looks over and tries to not chuckle. She pushes her chair back and comes over, carefully extracting him from the curtains while affectionately scolding him. She keeps him in her arms as she sits back down, and Killian decides that her lap is a fine place for his next nap time, and promptly stretches out and falls asleep.

Picking right up where his thoughts left off, he dreams of Emma in one of the lighter dresses she always preferred over ballgowns. With her hair being lifted by the wind, she smiles when she turns her face towards the sun, and Killian smiles at the sight. She’s eighteen and beautiful, wise beyond her years but with a streak of realism that he cannot fathom.

“You know, princess,” Killian states, kneeling down and offering his hand to her, “the queen will kill me if you come home with grass stains on that dress.”

“She’ll do no such thing,” Emma says, but still takes his hand and lets herself be drawn to her feet. Her hand stays in his, both of their attention drawn to it. It’s the first time Killian can think of nothing better than kissing the princess, but such thoughts should remain hidden.

“Why, uh, why wouldn’t she do that?” Killian asks. While his voice had changed with puberty, the low level it hits when he asks this question is more intense than either of them have heard before. She shivers, leaning closer to him without realizing it, and Killian can smell the floral scent clinging to her from the meadow around them.

“She adores you, for some reason. Cannot imagine why,” she murmurs, and Killian doesn’t even realize she’s going to kiss him until she already is, her lips tentatively touching his, her free hand pressed to the side of his neck.

The dream is knocked away when Emma shifts and Killian rolls at the same time, an ungodly noise coming from him as he squeaks and wheezes as he falls. He only knows that the adage about cats landing on their feet is true because he can no longer count how many times he’s tumbled to the ground and still landed upright.

Emma apologizes, ducking and tilting her head to find him underneath the desk, and she pats his head before going back to her work.

The day that Regina shows up at Emma’s door brings about a lot of things. First is that yes, she is definitely the missing royal. Snow would be so happy to discover that she was wrongfully accused, which is what he thinks he’s saying when he goes to her feet and chatters up at the missing woman. There’s also confirmation that the time here is or was tampered with, as Regina looks no older than she would’ve been when she went missing. Snow was young when the woman went missing, in that stage between young woman and girl, and Regina was scarcely a decade older than her. Now, Emma looks to be the same age as the woman standing in her living room. That is very long for time to stand still.

Of course, the nature of Regina’s visit also causes him anguish. Emma uses the term “fuckable” as she wanders off to her bedroom, and comes back looking just that. Killian blanches, realizing that Emma is heading out with the purpose of finding a man to sleep with. He wonders, not for the first time, how many men she’s been with since she got here.

His curiosity is immediately covered up by shame, as he has no room to speak. He’s been with quite a few women in the last three years, even if there were stipulations to their encounters. If this is what she wishes to do, then he has to handle his own emotions. Although, he wonders if he has enough time to dart out when they’re exiting the apartment. He doesn’t have to be here for it, right?

Sadly, the door closes before he has a chance to escape, so the best he can do is tuck himself away when she returns, if she returns with someone else. He prepares for the worst night of his life – having to witness in any part, the woman he loves coming home with another – and also can feel the prickles of the oncoming shift.

This brings about a whole new level of panic, on his part. What the bloody hell will he do if the moon rises while Emma is still with this other man? There’s a whole new level of complication to this whole thing. Why did it have to be tonight, of all nights?

Thankfully, his Emma is strong, and knows her own mind, and when the bastard she’s brought home vocalizes locking Killian up in the bathroom to get him out of the way, along with outwardly sleazy behavior, Emma tosses him out the door with barely a thought.

He just manages to avoid seeing her naked several times, despite hiding his face in his bed until he thinks it’s safe. He makes the mistake of looking up when she enters the room from the bathroom, just in time for her to wind her arm around her back to pluck at the clasps of her undergarment. He again buries his face in the bedding until she’s dressed for sleep and under the covers. Only then does he jump onto the bed with her, curling up by her pillow and listening to her sleepy murmurs. He expresses his own goodnight wishes to her as she curls her hand around his tail, trying to ease the panic in his chest.

In the morning, Emma’s phone rings right at the moment Killian stumbles into her closet. He manages to push the door closed most of the way, feeling the moon rising and his skin crawling just as Emma is scrambling to get ready to leave. He tries to judge how long until he shifts, but without knowing what time it is and precisely what time the moon will begin to rise, he’s left clueless. At least when the apartment door closes, he doesn’t fear that she’ll walk in mid-change.

It’s not until later in the day that the shift happens, and he gasps, his body shivering as the spell takes hold. An hour passes before he’s able to move, his body unaccustomed to the shift in his bones. He manages to lift himself from the floor when it becomes apparent he has to use the toilet, and he knows he needs hydration, as well. Who knows how long Emma will be gone, and he needs to care for his body in her absence.

He’s seen the toilet flushed plenty of times, so while he’s mystified by it, he still uses it with no difficulty. He uses any of the knowledge he’s gained about the living space to locate things like cups for drinking water, manages to use the water faucet with no problems, and then raids her cabinets for anything that looks remotely edible. It’s not that Emma has been starving him as a cat, but there’s only so far tuna and hard pellets can sustain him now that he’s a smidge bigger in size.

Just as Emma’s unlocking the door, Killian scurries back to the bedroom, closing the door and trying to figure out how to approach her now that he’s human again. She’s not likely to remember him, so she will not be happy to see a grown man in her apartment – and a naked one, at that. Killian grabs the blanket he usually sleeps on and wraps it around his waist, closing his eyes and counting to ten as she keeps calling to Cat to come eat his dinner.

Scrubbing his hand over his face and sending up a quick prayer to whatever deity might be listening, Killian eases open the door. The pirate side of his brain takes over as he makes it to the entrance of the kitchen, watching Emma (and oh god, he can make eye contact with her if she just turns around) and waiting for the opportune moment.

“I did promise you tuna tonight, little man,” she says, still too busy fiddling with the trash bag to notice that he’s leaning against the doorway.

“I’d much rather prefer something a little more human, if you don’t mind.”

His voice sounds weird to his own ears, as unused as it is, but Emma spins around when she hears it. He doesn’t anticipate the liquid she slips on. He doesn’t expect her to knock herself out. But he definitely wasn’t ready to feel the love well up in his chest at the sight of her seeing him for the first time in three years.

-x-

In the short time she’s out, she sees the flower field, she hears her name, and she sees the blue eyes that look at her with adoration. She forgets it all as she wakes on her couch, with the strange man settled on the floor by her feet, inspecting the television remote. She figures she has two options here: figure out who this guy is and how he got in her apartment, or scream bloody murder until someone comes barging in.

The second option, while probably totally reasonable, doesn’t seem like a lot of fun with the way her head is pounding, so she takes the first one. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Please don’t upset yourself, Princess Emma. I promise I can explain.” He rushes to sooth her in some way, but it’s not working out so well since there’s a mostly naked, rugged-looking man sitting on her living room floor.

“Oh, I’m Emma, but I’m no princess. Now who the hell are you? Where’s my cat?”

“We’re one in the same, I’m afraid,” the man explains. His left arm, which he’d been hiding before, is visible now and ends at the wrist. Coincidence, right? There’s no way. There’s no logical explanation for her cat to be a man and she wonders if she’s really just passed out, still. Maybe she even died and this is some warped form of the afterlife.

“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time. I’m from where you’re from. You must believe me. You came here one day because of an evil man and a portal. You’ve been living here for three years but the first twenty-five years of your life you lived with your parents, a king and queen, in their castle.”

“You’re deranged. I was an orphan that spent her childhood moving from foster family to group homes. I don’t have a family. I was abandoned.”

“Surely you don’t believe that,” he says, a look of alarm on his face. “You come from a land where everyone loves you, Swan.” He’s on the verge of touching her hand, so Emma snatches it back, sitting up and pulling her legs in front of her in hopes of keeping him away. There’s something under his words that makes her wonder what he didn’t say, but he’s a stranger…

Again, his hand goes up in a placating gesture. “I know you, Emma. Probably better than you know yourself. You told me, recently, that you feel like you don’t belong here.”

She considers him for a moment before standing up to pace. “Yeah? Like that’s an original thought or something? Who really feels like they belong where they are?” She’s seen enough movies to know the answer to that one.

“Emma, you said it yourself, that you feel like there’s something in your missing memories that’s hiding the fact that you don’t belong in this land.”

“Maybe in Storybrooke, but what’s this crazy idea of being in this land?” she says, throwing up a set of air quotes around ‘land’ to emphasize. “Forget it, I’m calling the cops.”

“You are the law enforcement, love.” She shoots him a glare, picking up her cell phone as she does and unlocking it. He stands suddenly, reaching for the blanket when it drops from around his waist. “Wait, wait, Emma. You believe in your heart that someone is out there looking for you and they can’t find you because this place lacks the technology required.”

There’s no way, she thinks, especially thinking about the conversation she just had with her cat about all this, and the fact that he’s said most of her words back to her. She thinks about the comforting gesture that she mistook for Cat wanting more food. Without realizing it, she’s shifting the peridot ring on her finger.

“The ring, Emma. The ring. That is your mother’s ring. You told me you lied to Regina about it and worried you just found it in the woods, but it actually is. She gave it to you the day before your twenty-fifth birthday to remind you that we would always find you. Please, Swan, you’ve got to admit that you’ve wondered where it came from.”

She has, but there’s no way in hell she’s admitting that to him. Even as she feels her stress levels rising, the simple act of twisting the ring around her finger calms her right back down.

It’s the strangest thing, but she doesn’t feel like he’s lying about any of this, which is just fucking absurd. There’s no way for it to be real that her cat, her little black housecat that has spent just as much time cleaning himself as he has sleeping on the windowsill to soak up the sun, is the man that’s standing here now. She locks her phone, needing to sit down, needing to think for a minute. She needs to cover up the naked man standing in her living room is what she really needs to do.

“Okay, hang on, you’re distracting me too much.” Emma tells him, not even considering the fact that she’s going to leave a stranger in her living room while she goes to rummage through her closet for a pair of sweatpants or anything that might cover up the physique she would be checking out a little more if this wasn’t the strangest situation she’s ever lived through - that she remembers, obviously.

She takes the moment to look through her closet shelves, hoping to find Cat hidden away somewhere so she can lock the bedroom door and call Graham and have the crazy guy arrested, but it truly seems as if her cat is gone. With her head spinning even more, Emma grabs a baggy pair of sweats she keeps around for period days and a t-shirt that Graham left in her car once.

“Put these on,” Emma says, barely pausing in the living room to throw them at him as she goes to the kitchen for a tall glass of wine. When the glass is full to the brim and she’s sure he’s clothed, she goes back. “Now tell me who you are. Don’t lie at all, or I’ll be able to tell. If there is such a thing as a superpower, that’s what mine is.”

He’s situated on the edge of her couch, sitting very still with his back completely straight. “Where would you like me to start?”

She pauses to consider the question. “Well, I would like to call you something other than ‘crazy naked guy’ so a name might help out with that.” This is all absurd, but it might as well do some good to find out what name she’ll be filing on the police report later.

He snorts, relaxing a little bit in his posture as he shakes his head. Still, he hesitates, and she can almost see some form of lie forming in his brain until his shoulders droop and he stares at the coffee table in thought. “My name is Killian Jones. I was a lieutenant in your parents’ navy.”

“Was?” She picks up on the subtle cue in his words.

“Aye, there may have been a falling out of sorts. I’ve been on my own for a couple years trying to find you.” There’s something missing, still.

“Why couldn’t my parents find me?” This time, she resists the air quotes around these supposed parents of hers.

“They were trying everything they could, Swan, but they just didn’t have the same resources I did to get over here,” he explains. He’s not lying, but there are gaps in what he’s saying. She can tell. It’s like looking through a piece of Swiss cheese.

While she spends a great deal of time looking at him, she has a hard time meeting his eyes with her own. She wants to keep him at arm’s length, and eye contact, she’s found, is way too intimate for how she wants to view this situation. Luckily, he’s incredibly good-looking, so while she refuses to look at his eyes, there’s quite a bit of good to glance at when she does. The borrowed t-shirt is tight in all the right places, his biceps stretching the sleeves in a way she can appreciate. It’s weird to think that Graham certainly never looked as good in the shirt.

When she’s not subtly checking him out, she’s glancing around to see if she left a window open or unlocked – anything to explain how Cat may have gotten out and how this Killian could’ve gotten in.

The strange thing about it all is that she hasn’t called the station, or texted Regina, or kicked his ass yet. But Storybrooke has always felt so… stagnant. This man sitting here, with his fancy accent and his downright absurd stories about being from a different land, that she’s a princess of all things, is the most excitement she’s had in ages that didn’t involve a drunk throwing up on her. So if she ignores a bit of common sense for an hour or two, so be it.

She realizes she hasn’t responded to him yet when it becomes clear that she’s looking anywhere but at him, and there’s total silence in her living room. He’s staring at her; that much she can tell without even turning her head. He’s looking at her so intensely that she doesn’t want to look in his direction.

“Are you still going to have me hauled to the dungeons?” he asks, and she can’t tell if he’s joking and trying to break the tension or genuinely curious about her intentions at this point.

She turns her head, meeting those eyes of his and she’s stunned to find that he looks familiar. But this is not someone she’s met in the last three years. Could he have been someone she met in the time she still doesn’t remember? There are still parts of her life missing from her memories. It’s entirely possible that she’s encountered him before and just doesn’t remember him now.

With a heavy sigh, Emma drops her head into the hand that isn’t occupied by her wine glass.

“No, I’m not gonna call the station, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“Understood. I will endeavor to change your mind on that.”

None of this makes sense. None of this makes any sense. And Emma kinda wants to hope she’s dreaming, or maybe Will slipped her a hallucinogenic, or maybe… No, there’s no better explanation than the man behind her needs some kind of mental help. He clearly believes she’s a princess that’s been missing for years, and he somehow believes he’s also her cat. She could kick him out. She has her taser, she has her gun, she has her tenacity – she could force him back out of her apartment, call the station and have night duty pick him up before he can cause anyone any trouble.

And yet, she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t break the spirit of his claims, and while she can’t believe him, she can start finding a way to help him.

“Listen, this may be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, but you can stay with me until we get you all sorted out, okay? It’s really cold outside and I don’t want to be responsible for some lost citizen falling victim to frostbite or something.”

He lights up when she speaks, only further grinning as she explains herself.

“On the couch,” she stresses.

“Of course, Swan. I’m honored that you’ve even agreed to let me stay.��

She doesn’t know how to respond to that. She doesn’t even know what else to say at this point so she just sips her wine in the awkward silence that follows. Her mouth is just about to open to tell him she’s going to bed, when his stomach rumbles, loudly, even putting the bullfrogs by the docks to shame with its racket.

“Jesus, have you never eaten before?”

“I can’t help it, love, I’ve been living off a diet of tuna packets and that disgusting crunchy food for almost a month, and I couldn’t make heads or tails out of the rest of the slop you call food. There are no meat pies, no stews. I located the bread but you didn’t even have any cheeses or ale to go with it. I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long.” He throws his hand and stump in the air in exasperation, and Emma’s eyes go wide at the nonsense he just spoke.

“Where the hell do you think you are, Middle Earth?”

“Middle where? Oh! And don’t even get me started on the strange thing that claims to be edible from the silver packages. Rest assured that I threw those right away.”

“My Pop-Tarts? You threw away my fucking Pop-Tarts?” The wine has started to kick in, or else she would’ve had her fingers in that pressure point on his neck already, knocking him out and not caring if he froze as she dragged him out of the apartment.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he sprawls across his corner of the couch. “No, Swan, your ‘Pop-Tarts’ are fine. I only threw away the one I bit into. Bloody awful taste that left in my mouth.” The last part is muttered under his breath, and Emma snorts.

“Oh god, I’m having an argument with a crazy person about the food I keep in my house.” She covers her eyes with her free hand, trying her best not to laugh hysterically.

“You know, with that attitude, we’ll never get you home to your parents,” Killian says lightly. She has an urge to remind him that he’s speaking gibberish, but holds back.

Pizza. Pizza is clearly the answer to her problems here.

“Fuck it, I’m ordering pizza.”

“Your language, Swan. Your parents would be appalled.” He pauses as she switches her attention from her phone, back to him with her eyebrow raised. “I like it,” he comments, smirking and wiggling his own eyebrows at her.

Whatever. He might be crazy, but he’s pretty damn hot.

While they wait, Killian makes sure to ask her every question about pizza that he can.

“Where does it come from?”

“The pizza shop.”

“Is the pizza shop down in the kitchens?”

“Killian, you’ve seen my kitchen. It’s just like all the other kitchens in these apartments. There’s no pizza coming from that kitchen unless it’s the frozen variety. Which I don’t have. Because I couldn’t go grocery shopping today thanks to the disaster of a day it was.”

“Is the wine helping?”

“It would help a hell of a lot more if you would stop asking me so many questions.” He gives her a pointed look after that statement, keeping his mouth closed but quirking one of those eyebrows. She sips her wine, counting down from ten to see who will win.

Emma makes it to five before Killian asks her about the refrigerator and she’s astonished that the whole complex can’t hear her groan of agitation.

The pizza gets treated like an experiment. While Emma, who already had her dinner but could use a little more grease in her life, digs into her pizza with gusto, Killian stares at the triangular food for way longer than is normal.

“It’s food,” she emphasizes, talking around the bite in her mouth. “You eat it.”

There’s a running commentary after that, of all Killian’s thoughts while he eats his “first” piece of pizza. She refuses to believe that a guy who looks to be about thirty has never had a piece of pizza before, though.

“So, they heat the bread and the cheese together? That’s brilliant! And what’s the red stuff?”

“It’s tomato sauce.”

“And this stuff on top?”

“Pepperoni.”

“And this is more cheese in the rim of the bread?”

“It’s called the crust,” she mutters out, prying open her laptop and finishing off her glass of wine. Killian is seated on the floor, eating over the coffee table as he flips through the channels in wonder. While the wine has helped to calm her down, she’s at least thinking realistically about what to do next. He can stay on the couch for tonight, but tomorrow, she should probably figure out where he needs to go. Maybe Dr. Hopper will be able to help her out.

As he keeps eating (and she’s continually glad she ordered a large pizza), Emma finds what looks to be a special hospital on the outskirts of town that caters specifically in this type of case.

Tomorrow, she resolves, she’ll call them and find out more information. With a soft click, she closes her computer and sits back to enjoy the childlike wonder of the man sitting cross-legged on her floor, licking his fingers clean before going back for yet another slice. She’ll resolves to wipe down the whole table, and the remote, since he’s only got the one hand to operate both eating and channel surfing. And she might need some more food if she gets really crazy and lets him stay.

-x-

Emma leaves him with strict instructions that he is not to leave her apartment while she’s out. Apparently, she’s gone the way of her visitor and has decided that he can stay with her for a couple days, pending how weird he makes it during this second day. First, she has to make it through her shift at the station.

“You lock the door when I leave, and don’t wander the halls, you hear me?”

“Aye, I hear you. Not that I’d want to go out without proper attire. Or, you know, shoes,” he comments, and it’s only then she glances down at his feet as he wiggles his toes.

“Oh. Good point. Okay, I’ll bring home groceries. There’s still pizza in the fridge. Call me if you need something - I left the number to the station on the pad by the phone.” He looks baffled and confused by that statement, but she’s out the door before he can ask her twenty questions about the telephone.

It’s roughly halfway through her shift at the station that Emma realizes she didn’t lock up any of her (very few) valuables or cash. So, if she gets home and her apartment is cleaned out, then she probably deserves it.

She barely speaks to anyone while at work, too worried about the now-thankfully-clothed crazy guy in her apartment, but luckily most of them are preoccupied with the mountain of paperwork that the day before produced so they don’t notice her silence. Emma also concludes, mid-bite of her sandwich, that this is a person she doesn’t recognize. Sure, there are probably a lot of people out in Storybrooke that she hasn’t met yet, right? But in the last couple years, especially, Emma can’t remember anyone new coming into town that she didn’t already know. Come to think of it, has a newcomer ever come to Storybrooke?

That thought huddles in the back of her mind for the remainder of her shift, and also as she blindly dumps groceries into the basket she picks up at the entrance. When she gets back to the apartment complex, the thought follows her down the hall to the communal laundry room as she pulls out items that might fit Killian.

With the clothes thrown over one arm and the bags slung over the other, Emma has a hard time convincing the key to go into the lock, let alone turning the knob as she spills into the entrance. She drops the clothes inside the doorway, observing that Killian is once again staring at the television in great wonder, before she wanders to the kitchen to put away groceries.

The television cuts off and she hears him stop at the entrance of the kitchen.

“You did the dishes?”

“Aye, figured it was the least I could do. Also cleaned my food and water bowls.”

“But if you’re a human now, you won’t be needing those anymore, right?” Is she really playing along with his silly theory, just because her cat has apparently disappeared and he’s missing the same hand/paw?

“I can only hope, Swan.” There’s sadness lingering under the surface of his words, and Emma wants to ask him what he means, but he cuts off her line of thought as he motions to the bags. “May I help?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out,” she tells him, emptying the bags one by one for him to see the contents. “I bought like, healthy snacks for you, I guess. Some veggies and fruits, because I don’t know what you like best. Also, since you mentioned cheese, I bought a bunch of different kinds?”

The expression on Killian’s face scares the shit out of her in the most unexpected way. She bought him snacks, not caviar and champagne, but he’s looking at her with unadulterated affection. This man she doesn’t know looks a little bit like he loves her. And that is not okay.

Emma clears her throat. “I also got stuff for dinner tonight. I’m not really good at cooking much of anything, but I figured with the pure grease we ate yesterday that maybe something homemade might be better. Just spaghetti and meatballs. Nothing fancy.”

“I look forward to it, love. If you knew what I’ve eaten the last couple years, you would understand how much of a delicacy anything that hasn’t been stewed is to me. Also,” he adds, opening cupboards to figure out where to place everything, “the pizza was delicious even though it was still chilly from the cold box.”

“Shit, I didn’t teach you how to use the microwave.” She slaps her forehead, and then backtracks through the rest of his words. “And seriously? It’s called a refrigerator. I’ll show you how to use all this later. I also got you some other clothes that might fit better. Just cast-offs from the lost and found downstairs, but probably more comfortable than my sweats. Do you wanna shower while I make dinner?”

“I would love a bath, and not one given by a tongue for once,” he says, making a face as he does. “Unless, of course, it’s not my own.” His expression morphs from the previous disgust to a beguiling one in the blink of an eye.

The flirtatious quip catches her off guard, and she can’t help but laugh. He’s joking, he has to be. “Yeah, keep dreaming, buddy. Go, shower, pick some clothes, and I’ll make pasta.”

She can breathe a little easier once he’s not standing in the kitchen with her, and Emma quickly puts the rest of the groceries away and starts boiling water for the noodles. She’s just pulling out her sauce pot when his voice trails over from the bathroom.

“Do you bring the water in for me, or would you like me to fetch it from somewhere? Show me where the pail is and I’ll acquire it, love.”

Luckily, he can’t hear the responding groan, or see her roll her eyes to the heavens. This man, she thinks, setting the pot down on the stove and stomping down to the bathroom.

“You’re impossible. You know that, right?” She pushes him out of the way, belatedly realizing that he’s shirtless and almost the crazy, naked guy again. “This is how you turn the water on. Twist right for cold, left for hot, and if you want to fill the tub then you pull on this lever here, okay?”

He nods, a little stunned at her outburst of information, and again as she shoves a towel in his arms. Emma turns to head straight back to the kitchen but stops at the doorway to the bathroom.

“How can you not know how to operate the shower but seem to have figured out the toilet just fine? And the sink to wash dishes.”

“Ah, well, you’ve opened the door before flushing in the time I’ve been here. But you never leave it open when you bathe, so I had no idea how this all worked.”

The weirdest part is that it’s totally plausible. She usually opens the door just as she’s flushing, or right before. “Yeah,” she mutters as she looks between Killian and the toilet. “And you jumped at least three feet in the air the first time you heard it flush.”

“Was hoping you’d forget that little detail,” he says, his cheeks turning pink at the reminder. “I think I’ve got it from here, Swan. Unless, that is, you’d like to stay and watch. But I’m guessing your appetites lean more towards that meal you spoke of rather than that of the sinful variety.”

It’s her turn to blush, especially because she’s definitely been zoning out staring at the trail of hair that disappears below the waistband of the borrowed sweats. “That’s, uh, I’ll – I’ll be making dinner,” she proclaims, before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door on her way out.

She has no idea what’s going on with her brain and her libido, but they both need to knock it off immediately, because strange men should not be so tempting. Maybe she shouldn’t have rejected that guy the other night.

By the time Killian emerges from the bathroom, Emma has the table set (something she can’t actually remember doing in her entire time living here) and is just straining the noodles. While she doesn’t turn off the lights or anything, she definitely has the centerpiece candles lit.

“You trying to seduce me, Swan?”

Startled, she looks up to find Killian leaning against the partition that leads into the eating area. His eyebrow is quirked up as he grins, but what she notices first is that the new sweatpants definitely fit better than hers did. And the shirt, this time long-sleeved, looks even better with the material pushed up to his elbows. He’s wearing one of the two pairs of socks she managed to find as well. The whole package would be very attractive – very, very attractive – if she couldn’t see colors. The sweatpants are burnt orange, the shirt is lilac, and the socks are electric blue, with sock monkeys on them.

“I can’t seduce someone who looks like the lost and found threw up on them,” she remarks, returning to the task of plating the food. He snorts from his position in the doorway, holding out his hand to help get the food to the table.

After they’ve eaten, Killian directs Emma out of the kitchen so he can do the dishes, stating again that it’s the least he can do for her when she’s gone to so much effort to feed and clothe him. So, she feels just a little guilty that while he cleans her kitchen, she’s looking up more information on the facility tied to Storybrooke General to see if it’s a good fit for her stranger friend.

His delusions don’t seem dangerous, and he’s done everything he can to avoid making physical contact with her. Hell, she’s noticed that a lot of times, he tries to hide his left arm from her so she can’t see that he’s missing a hand, although she doesn’t know why. Emma is sure, however, that if she says anything to him about going to the facility, that Killian will balk and not go willingly. While he’s been absolutely harmless up to this point, there’s still a darkness – or maybe it’s a pronounced sadness – that lingers in his eyes and makes her wonder what he’d do if she brought this up before just dropping him off at the front doors.

It’s the only place, however, and there’s something oddly sinister about the building on the homepage. Thanks to her researching nature, Emma notices that there’s a comment page on the site, and a couple of them give her a sinking feeling in her stomach. There are notes asking about loved ones, dating from years before, that sit unanswered. Every once in awhile, there’s a response that tells the person leaving the comment to contact their offices to talk about it, but there’s never anything further. Most people wouldn’t even see this page, so she’s glad she decided to click around.

Emma hears the water turn off, and hears the last clink of a dish being placed on the drying rack, before Killian wanders into the living room. She snaps her laptop shut as he walks behind the couch on his way to the open side.

“Care to talk about life as a princess and curses that need to be broken?” He says it jovially, his smile inviting and open, but Emma can’t do this. She can’t indulge in this crazy story and let this keep going.

“Actually, I’m beat. Yesterday took so much out of me, and I worked pretty hard today. You don’t mind if I turn in early, right?”

“Oh, of course. Go get some rest, Swan, and we can talk tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Killian.” She gets up and heads for her room, but right before she closes the door, she sees his face. Where he’d just been smiling, he’s now furrowing his eyebrows, with panic and agitation dancing in his gaze as he stares at the wall above the television. It’s something she’ll deal with tomorrow.

He’s waiting for her when she gets home from work the next day, his knee bouncing in anticipation as he invites her to sit down.

“Come, Swan, talk to me for a little bit. I have a feeling you don’t believe me and I need to set the record straight.”

“Killian,” she starts, dropping her purse on the table by the door and hanging up her coat as she slips out of her boots.

“Emma, please. There has to be something I can do or say for you to believe me. You have to believe me, please.”

She stares at him; he looks so nervous. Gone is the flirtatious man from the day before, replaced instead by the pleading man on her couch.

With a deep breath, she knows it’s time to say what should’ve been said the first time he even claimed to be a cat. “There’s… There’s no such thing as magic, Killian. Do you realize how crazy this all sounds? There’s no magic, you aren’t my cat, I’m not a princess who’s just lost her memories. You have to give up on that.”

“Why do you know I’m lying?”

“Because you can’t prove that you’re really a cat, Killian. For all I know, you could’ve thrown him out the window after you broke in and just made wild guesses about things I would’ve confided in a household pet.”

“You can’t prove that I’m not,” he says, standing and pacing over to her, still just stopping short of being in her personal space. “And I can prove it,” he says after a lengthy silence. “The moon will set in the morning; find out what time it will disappear below the horizon and wake up before then if you want proof. If I’m wrong, you can take me to that building you were researching last night and I’ll go willingly.” He gestures to the laptop that she left open this morning after she checked her email.

Her computer? Oh, her computer. She left the web pages up and he probably looked –

“Goodnight, Emma,” Killian says quietly, before trudging back over to the couch and settling down to watch television.

With no response in her arsenal, Emma turns and walks to her room with a blank expression on her face. It’s not even that late, but she still goes through the process of getting ready for bed before locking herself away in her room.

She tries to resist the temptation to look up the times, but she’s barely in bed for more than five minutes before she has her phone out, searching the time the moon is due to set in the morning, and then setting her alarm for a half hour before then.

Part of her wants to think that she’ll ignore the alarm when she wakes up. He’s talking nonsense. She’s going to have to drive him over to the Storybrooke General mental health branch tomorrow and drop him off, and that’ll be the end of it. Then he’ll be out of her hair.

Instead, she wakes up before the alarm even goes off. She throws on a sweater to ward off the chill that’s crept in through the walls, or into her bones – she doesn’t know which – before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.

Killian is awake, fidgeting in the corner of the couch as his hand rubs across the place his other one should be. When he sees her, he stops and pulls the sleeve of his shirt back over it.

“I need coffee before whatever it is you’re going to show me,” Emma remarks on her way. Killian grimaces, no jokes in return, no sassy comebacks. That’s when the bloom of unease in her stomach intensifies.

She doesn’t sit when she comes back. She sips from the mug, waiting for Killian to explain or move or do fucking something, but he just stares at the coffee table. With a quick check, Emma sees that the moon is due to set any minute, and that’s when Killian finally shifts, standing quickly as something like panic and maybe a touch of anger goes through his eyes.

“We’ll talk next month,” he tells her. “Next full moon, okay?” His hand is shaking when he reaches up to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and she’s so stunned by the intensity in his gaze that she doesn’t even try to move away from it. Her coffee forgotten, she’s momentarily lost in the sadness in his eyes, those beautiful blues searching her face like he’ll never see her again despite his previous words. A glimmer of a smile tilts his lips up as his eyes soften for a moment, and then he gasps.

As Killian stumbles back away from her, the spell Emma felt she was under breaks and she barely remembers to set down the coffee before spilling it everywhere as she reaches for him.

“Killian? What’s wrong? What’s happening? Should I call an ambulance?”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t really have a chance when a blast of light and what feels like a small, contained windstorm knocks her back so hard that she falls on her ass between the couch and coffee table. Shaking her head to clear it, Emma look to where Killian was just standing but there’s a pile of clothes on the ground. It twitches and moves, and she scrambles backwards to get away from it.

But all that emerges is a familiar, small face. Cat shuffles his way out of the clothes, hesitantly moving closer to her and stopping right by her outstretched legs. He shifts his eyes up to hers, the same somber eyes she just looked at minutes ago.

No wonder Killian’s eyes always looked so familiar, since they’re Cat’s eyes as well.

Chapter 6

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #csbb 2017 #csbb #wait for the moonrise #sarah writes ff #enchanted forest/modern au #i am so exciiiiiiited for this chaaaaaapter

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juuvio · 7 years

Text

Favour For You

Haikyuu!! [Bokuto Koutarou / Kuroo Tetsurou]

Genre: Vampire AU, angst

Rating: Teen & up audiences

WARNING: Major character death

SUMMARY

Bokuto Koutarou finds himself lingering too long on watching his prey, so it was about time he did something about it.

Also available on AO3!

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Golden eyes watched his so called prey eagerly, like they’d done so for the past 3 weeks. How pathetic for a vampire, to simply sit back and watch for this long instead of getting straight down to the feast. Uncharacteristic to say at the very least, it was quite a challenge for a blood-sucker to think past the euphoric warmth running down their throats, but for an odd reason Bokuto held back his desires. This human, tall, slender, handsome as can be, crazy hair and a bewitching gaze to go along with his allure. The beast was almost afraid if he went near the young man he wouldn’t be able to resist tearing him apart, so he kept a fair distance. But, all good things come to an end eventually.

Monday’s, Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s, he left class at times varying from 12pm to 4pm. Thursday’s and Friday’s were occupied with his part-time job at a well known café, finishing up at around 6pm and leaving close to 7pm. In all the uncredited times, he simply went back to his dorm and went to sleep. The guy looked like he had a decent social life, along with pretty good social skills, but in his free time he was rather lonely. Maybe he’d binge a show or two on netflix, power through an essay but otherwise he just curled up in bed. How strange.

Bokuto wanted a little more than his blood, he wanted his name, his attention, maybe even a friendship- impossible. What the hell am I even thinking? But this certain bedhead was annoyingly appealing to Bokuto, why? He wanted to walk up to him and say hi or anything, but he may be swayed too much by his hunger. The appetizing aroma was caught from miles away, Bokuto couldn’t even imagine the struggle of being right in front of him. Right, he’d be dead. Like he’s suppose to be, fucking give in already. Humans are food not friends, humans are food not friends, humans are food not… friends. Maybe just this one time?

Knowing this tempting human’s schedule off by heart at this point, Bokuto didn’t have much of a problem with accidentally bumping into him, and he made sure he fed heavily before doing so. Didn’t want to go straight for his throat without at least knowing his name, did he? Even his name would be just enough to satisfy him, so he thinks. What if I like him too much? Nah, he might be a total asshat. The movement of dark hair was caught in Bokuto’s extended vision, swiveling on his heel to make that oh so cliché bump into the stranger. “Oh crap! Sorry dude didn’t… see you there.” There he was, directly in front of him. He was even more breathtaking up close. Skin smooth and glinting under the streetlamp from the dewy surface, eyes holding powerful warm hues, comparable to antique jewelry of some sort, his jawline and cheekbones sharp enough to slice cleanly through skin. Fuck.

“Shit, my bad. I was in a daydream.” He laughed, his lower lids puffing out more from his soft smiling. He looked tired, like he was completely prepared to go and crash on his bed this very moment. Not so much up for conversation. He smells so good… “Hey, have I seen you around here somewhere?”

“Ahaha… Nah, or I dunno maybe? I’m around here and there…” What the fuck am I saying.

“Eh, thought I’ve seen you hover around when I look out the windows from the café.”

Oh fuck, that obvious? “Pfff I’m a bored man, what can I say! Love to people watch.” Bokuto held his breath when his future meal put his face closer, looking as though he was inspecting him.

“Nice eyes.”

The rich golden pigment from a vampire’s gaze sure was hard to hide, and hard to excuse. “Oh, thanks! I like yours.”

“Mine are pretty dull, yours are like actually… Gold. What the hell, that’s not even possible, you got contacts in?”

“Nope they’re real!” The crease between the bedhead’s brows deepened at his statement. “Runs in the family… Yours are cool though. Kinda like amber. Pretty rare!”

“Not as rare as gold…” He finally took a step back and chuckled. “Science has it all wrong apparently, unless you’re some supernatural monster.”

His breath hitched at the remark, stretching his lips into an awkward grin.

“Though if that were true… Science is complete bullshit! What’s your name?” A small smile shaped his lips again, awaiting an answer from this predator, unknownst to him.

“Oh! Bokuto Koutarou, what’s yours?”

“Kuroo Tetsurou… Anyway I better head back I’m tired as hell.” Kuroo brushed past Bokuto and patted him on the shoulder, giving a short wave. “See ya around.”

Bokuto could only mumble a short bye, feeling the familiar burn coarse through his throat and tugging at his craving strings. His scent was irresistible, he wasn’t even sure how he managed to make it to the end of the conversation without going straight for the kill. Walk away Bokuto… I’ll find someone else…

But I want him.

His quick steps were as silent as the night itself, almost like a soft breeze that wouldn’t trigger one’s touch senses, undetectable and dangerous. He mulled through his mind what was the quickest way to make it to Kuroo’s dorm, seeing at his 3 week stalking programme allowed him to memorise where he lived. Window. Fire escape. His enhanced speed allowed him to skip flights of steps, arriving to his destination in a short few minutes. To his surprise, the window was ajar. No guilt about breaking his window… Not like he’d notice, he’ll be dead. An unusual feeling pulled in his chest, almost as though he was feeling guilty. He had killed countless humans without remorse, why should he? He was on top of the food chain. He didn’t know this Kuroo Tetsurou, he only knew he was painfully attractive and his damn name. Why did I waste this much time.

The dorm apartment was dark and quiet, the distant sound of echoing steps bouncing off the walls. Instead of positioning himself for an attack, Bokuto left himself hovering by the window. What was he going to do? Jump out again? Get over it! He’s human, it’s no problem. The crack of the front door startled the silver haired vampire out of his thoughts, and he swiftly maneuvered himself to a less noticeable spot in the dorm.

“I mean yeah… No I am coming tomorro- Ha no I swear, I won’t bail again. Huh? No everything’s fine, just been busy with uni work is all…”

He was on the phone, that much Bokuto gathered. He was worried the guy just walked in knowing he would be there and casually started speaking to him. Like humans would be so casual and calm over that, he’d probably scream. He held back a snicker and focused his hearing on the deep voice that was lowered in volume. He didn’t sound so interested in going to this thing tomorrow.

“Uhhh… Yeah? I dunno I’ll be up whatever time I wake up- okay shit fine, 9. Got it. Kay, see ya.” The dorm fell quiet again after the beep, and a lengthy sigh left the weary student. Finally, there was movement, and Kuroo was walking straight to the kitchen. Shit hiding place! Bokuto stepped quietly behind the door and listened to the soft footsteps that entered the room. He braced his eyes for the incoming blinding light, but there was only darkness. Weirdo, he eats in the dark? There was the opening of a cabinet door of some sort, a bit of rattling and shuffling. Bokuto peeked from behind the door to look on from behind Kuroo, who was focussing his attention on the counter. Perfect opportunity! He finally took tentative steps towards Kuroo, certain to keep himself silent and unnoticed, but froze at the rattling and multiple tappings on the counter. His diverted his eyes away from the man’s nape, looking down to see he was pouring out a hefty amount of pills into his hand, a few strays bouncing and escaping on the smooth surface of the counter.

Suicide, huh. Bokuto wasn’t sure whether he should talk him out of it, or believe he was doing him a favour by going through with this. In a long 10 seconds, he came to the conclusion he’ll go with the latter, but by then Kuroo had already turned around. He looked surprised, of course he would. The guy he met not half an hour ago was stood uninvited creepily behind him in his home. But not entirely surprised. In fact, he looked too uninterested to question the situation. Can’t turn back now.

When Bokuto’s lips came into contact with the soft, warm surface of Kuroo’s neck, and his elongated fangs sank past the delicacy like a knife through butter, a wave of relief rippled through him. The more than satisfying burst of savoury and warmth quenched his everlasting thirst, but unlike his usual feeds did so. The two crumbled down to the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, Bokuto still cradling the back of Kuroo’s head with one hand and used the other to clutch over Kuroo’s mouth. On average, it would take around 7 minutes to drink a human dry, that was if the blood was being drank at a normal pace. Bokuto however, was drawing the blood greedily and lacked restraint. It wasn’t everyday he came across blood that sang in harmony with his taste buds, and in all honesty he should have been savouring the taste. He was never the one hold himself back though.

Kuroo’s struggling was gradually becoming weaker, although they weren’t very devoted to begin with, the struggling was likely just a very human reaction to getting tackled like that and having something snap at their throat. The guy was going to kill himself anyway, so if anything he was relieved himself. Bokuto hoped. He felt the slender body beneath him grow cooler and stiller, the skin brushing against his face become clammy and icy, and the panicked heartbeat crying in Kuroo’s chest flutter like butterfly wings. He was probably in hypovolemic shock by now, it’s nearly over. Bokuto was tempted to pull away to just check on him, he ask if he was okay, or anything to make his passing easier… But maybe it was best if he left the guy to his own thoughts.

The fluttering heartbeat finally slowed, ever so gradually, as though it was fighting to stay alive. Like his heart wasn’t ready to leave yet. Soon, there was only a disturbing silence. Bokuto pulled away from the body, still holding Kuroo’s head. His eyes didn’t make it all the way to peace and remained half open, but all life and light had long escaped. The tears left a glassy film over the now listless gaze, and the once golden skin was pale and ashy. His colorless lips parted slightly, all muscles relaxed and at rest.

He wasn’t sure why, but there was an unwelcomed warmth brewing in Bokuto’s own gleaming eyes. Crying? But why? Maybe it was always just tragic to see something that’s natural instinct is to stay alive, but their own mind pushes them to want to work against nature and take control themselves.

“Damn humans… you really are strange.”

#mywriting #hq!! fanfiction #fanfic #bokuro #bokuroo #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #angst #vampire au #major character death

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celticheartedfangirl · 7 years

Text

Dearie -- a Rumbelle AU -- Chapter Two . . . .

Summary: Michael Gold is an out of work actor with a bad reputation. Desperate for a job, he auditions for a role on a soap opera – dressed as a woman – and gets the part. He also meets the woman of his dreams, who has no idea that he is actually a man, and has to contend with several obstacles as he takes on this role of a lifetime; a role that may end up costing him more than he’s willing to pay. This is a Rumbelle AU of the movie Tootsie.

This is a Rumbelle AU based on the movie Tootsie. If you have not seen the film, you will still be able to follow the story. However, if you haven’t seen the film, I highly recommend it - it’s a classic!

Thank you to those who have given this fic a chance! If you're new - welcome! Just another author's note to add to the ones that I gave in the previous chapter: This is supposed to be a comedy fic. I am putting this out there up front - I am using the character of Killian Jones as a comic relief caricature. I, personally, do not like the character, but I feel that, based on MY impression of him - he fits the role that I am giving him, which is a supporting role. If you are a Hook fan, and you have a sense of humor - you may very well enjoy this fic. If you are a Hook fan and you are not capable of viewing Hook in a less-than-positive light . . . . this fic isn't for you. Thank you for the look and for your consideration. Please move on.

Also, from here on, any time Gold interacts with any character other than David, Neal, or Cora - presume that he is doing so dressed and speaking as Barbara Michaels.

Chapter 1: Meet Barbara Michaels

Read on AO3 Read on ffnet

Chapter Two: Storybooke General

Neal sat in stunned silence as Gold explained to him about the role he was undertaking – all while his father painted the fake nails that he was planning to apply to his fingertips. Well, make that two roles: Gloria Darktower, Hospital Administrator for Storybrooke General, and Barbara Michaels – actress. "Papa – are you crazy?"

"No, I have a job, with a steady income. What's crazy about that?" Gold asked.

"Because I've been sitting here for the last hour watching my father styling a woman's wig, giving himself a manicure and trying to figure out which handbag matches which outfit."

"Neal, I'm doing this for you – don't you see that? With this job, I'll make enough money to rent a theatre to do your play. This could be your big break, son. Although this will be one of the greatest acting challenges ever. Now, I already told them that I have a skin allergy and I need to do my own makeup and hair. There is one problem, though."

"Cramps?" Neal joked. Gold glared at him.

"Cora. I mean, how do I tell her that she lost the part to a man? She'll lose her mind. I could – I could offer her the female lead in your play. If that would be alright with you. Might be a good distraction for her."

"And – what exactly will you tell her when she asks how we came up with the money to produce this play?"

"I don't know – an inheritance or something. Anything but the truth, I suppose."

"Papa, you know I'm normally against lying but in this case – I'm all for it."

"I suppose you're right. You don't mind if I offer her the part then, right?"

"Papa – this is all a disaster waiting to happen. Don't forget that I told you that when everything implodes."

"It's not going to implode. I signed a standard contract, it's a three-month role. I'll get the money, we'll get the play off the ground, and everything will be fine."

"Michael, are you serious? You mean it?" Cora asked excitedly as Gold handed her Neal's script.

"Part's yours if you want it," he said. "We'll have a place secured in three months."

"I can't believe your aunt died and left you just the amount of money you needed, that's amazing! I mean – sad, but still -"

"Yes, well, we all have to go someday, right? How about we go out to dinner tonight and celebrate? My treat."

"Oh that sounds great, let me take a shower first! Be right out!" Cora darted into the bathroom. While she was showering, Gold looked in the mirror and sized himself up, trying to picture himself as his alter-ego, Barbara Michaels. Needing more inspiration, he snuck into Cora's bedroom and opened her closet door. There was a dress hanging on the door itself, and Gold picked up the dress and took it over to the mirror, to see how he would look in it. No, it wasn't enough – he needed to try it on. Gold removed his shirt and his pants and was just about to reach for and put on the dress when Cora stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom, wearing nothing but a towel and dripping wet. Cora let out a loud squeal.

"Michael, what are you doing?" she asked, eyeing Gold up and down as he stood there in nothing but his underwear. Gold looked around nervously – he could either tell her the truth, or he could figure out something else. But there was nothing else that didn't make him look like an utter pervert – except maybe one thing.

"Cora, I want you," Gold said.

"You want me?" Cora asked.

"Yes – very much," he replied.

Cora lay in bed as Gold stood up and got dressed. "Will I ever see you again?" Cora asked.

"Cora, come on, we've known each other for a year now, and we're doing a play together in three months, of course you'll see me again."

"Sex changes things," Cora said.

"It's not changing anything with us, alright? I'll call you tomorrow."

"Michael – if this whole thing is gonna be painful, let's just get it over with now."

"Okay – dinner tomorrow. Alright? Let's just make that definite right now."

"You mean it?" Cora asked.

"Of course I do," Gold said, wondering if he should have simply told her about the part.

Gold arrived at the studio barely on time, dressed as Barbara in full hair and makeup, having gotten up early to get ready for his first day on the set. One of the set pages showed him to his dressing room. "We'll need you on the set in about fifteen minutes," the girl said. Gold entered the dressing room – only to find a girl in there, with long brown hair, dressed only in her underwear and sitting in front of the mirror.

"Oh I – I'm sorry," Gold said, trying not to stare.

"It's okay. I'm Ruby Lucas, you must be Barbara," Ruby said.

"Yes – oh my, this is a lovely table," Gold said, doing everything possible to avert his eyes. "Oh, look, even a socket for a plug right there."

"Yeah, we have everything," Ruby said. "Go ahead, make yourself at home, we're gonna be dressing room buddies."

"Yes – apparently so," Gold said. A knock came on the door, and the page opened it.

"Miss Michaels I forgot to give you these – some last-minute additions for today," the page said, and she handed Gold the script and left. Gold looked over the script.

"Oh, they always throw stuff at you last minute," Ruby said. "Get used to it."

"Oh my goodness," Gold said, looking through the script.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked.

"I have to kiss Dr. Hook," Gold said.

"Oh, yeah – he kisses all the women on the show. We call him 'the tongue,'" Ruby said. "Just try to stay out of his view of the cue cards or he'll freak out, he's completely lost without them, can't memorize his lines for shit." Gold's face was overcome with panic. Now what was he going to do?

"Hey, can you please keep that racket down for five minutes, that set was supposed to be complete before we got here this morning and we're already behind!" Gaston shouted at the construction crew that was working in the background. He approached the brunette actress dressed in a nurses' outfit, the same girl that helped Gold pick up his script during the audition, and the man who was lying in the hospital bed on the set. "Okay – now you know how this is supposed to go, right honey? You're trying to get the IV back in and he grabs you and kisses you and you don't want him to stop."

"Gaston – he just came out of a two-month coma, isn't this a bit ridiculous?" she asked.

"Look – we're not trying to make some grand dramatic statement here, why are you always arguing with me? Just play it the way the script says!" Gaston shouted at her. "Okay, let's GO!"

"Lighting's not right," one of the men on the set said.

"Jesus Christ Leroy, would you FIX IT then! We've got twenty scenes to shoot and I'd like to get them done before the weekend!" Gaston shouted. Gold entered the set wings as Gaston was going on his tirade, watching him yell at the brunette actress and the lighting man. Gaston looked at one of the set pages. "Go get me a cup of coffee, Le Fou," he demanded.

"Sure, Mr. H. You want something, Miss French?" Le Fou asked. The actress was about to speak up, when Gaston interrupted.

"No, she doesn't need anything, she's good," Gaston said. The pretty brunette sighed but said nothing. Not wanting to wait until Gaston was done yelling at people, which could possibly be never based on what he was observing, Gold decided to make his move.

"Um – excuse me – Mr. Hunter -" Gold began as he walked onto the set, script in hand.

"Ah, there you are. Filming is delayed, you're gonna have to wait, some people don't know how to DO THEIR JOB!" Gaston shouted as the lighting crew worked fervently to fix the problems. "Might as well introduce you – Belle, this is Barbara Michaels, new hospital administrator," he said to the actress in the nurses' outfit.

"Hi – we met the other day. Belle French – hospital slut," Belle joked. "Nice to meet you." Gold was immediately captivated by her. "I play Lacey Winters – looks like your first scene is with me."

"Yes – looks that way, doesn't it?" Gold said, trying his best not to stare at her.

"Okay, they'll be ready to go in sixty seconds – go wait out in the hallway, will you sweetie?" Gaston said to Gold, and then he grabbed Gold by the shoulders and physically moved him to the doorway, as if he were moving a doll. Gold silently cringed at the man's obvious misogyny. When he reached the doorway, there was a man standing there. He was tall, with dark hair, and wearing a doctor's jacket. He was talking with Jefferson, who was wearing a different hat than he had worn at the audition.

"Barbara," Jefferson said. "I'd like you to meet Killian Jones. Killian – this is Barbara Michaels – your new boss. On the show, of course."

"Barbara – delighted," Jones said, and he took Gold's hand and kissed it. Gold couldn't pull away fast enough. "I'm Doctor Schuyler Hook – chief of staff."

"You – you're Dr. Hook?" Gold asked.

"Yes – I believe we're up next," Jones said, grinning at Gold a bit. He took Jefferson aside. "I have to kiss her?" Jones asked in a whisper.

"She's not that bad," Jefferson said. "I'd do her."

"You'd do anything," Jones said. "I've had worse, I suppose."

"She's only a few years older than you," Jefferson said.

"Shut up," Jones replied.

"Are we READY yet?" Gaston asked angrily.

"Yeah, ready," Leroy, the lighting director, said.

"Finally," Gaston said.

"Um – again – as I was asking before," Gold began to Gaston, "about this script -"

"Look, you got a problem with the writing, honey, you take it up with the writers, I just make sure it doesn't look like shit on camera." Gaston said tersely. Belle noticed that Gold was frustrated and looked up at him – or rather, at Barbara – with an understanding smirk. "Let's GO, I'm not eating lunch at five o'clock again!"

Gold filmed his first scene as hospital administrator Gloria Darktower. Also in the scene with him were Belle French as nurse Lacey Winters, Killian Jones as Dr. Schuyler Hook, and the patient in the hospital bed that Nurse Winters was making out with. Once that scene was completed, the next scene to be filmed – which he was dreading – was with Jones, and it took place in the corridor. It was an argument scene, which was supposed to end with Jones' character, Dr. Hook, kissing Gold's character, Gloria Darktower. Not wanting that to happen, Gold quickly thought of a way to remedy this while staying in character. The way the script read, it appeared to Gold that the doctor and his new superior had a prior relationship that didn't end well, so Gold chose to improvise. When Jones moved in to kiss him, Gold lifted up the stack of files he was carrying as a prop, hit Jones over the head with them, and chastised his character for the inappropriate advance. Jones stood there, dumbfounded. Gaston called "Cut!" and Gold turned to see a scowl on the director's face, and Belle, the pretty brunette actress, standing in the wings watching – and laughing. Gold cringed once again as Gaston walked over to him, an angry scowl on his face.

"I was supposed to kiss her!" Jones shouted, but no one paid attention.

"Mr. Hunter – I know what was on the script but as I tried to tell you, it was my instinct that it would be more in character for Gloria to react that way, she wouldn't allow a man like Dr. Hook to be groping, especially not in a work situation."

"It was good instinct," Belle chimed in.

"Hey – I'll handle instincts here," Gaston snarled at Belle. "Well, this time it happened to be a good instinct, dear, but next time you want to change something, you discuss it with me. Got it?" Gold wasn't sure whether to be offended or dumbfounded, given that he tried to do exactly that prior to shooting the scene. He had to remind himself that he wasn't Michael Gold, who would have already slugged this arrogant ass multiple times by now; he was Barbara Michaels, actress. She wouldn't do that.

"Yes, I – I'll make sure I do that," Gold replied, practically choking on the words.

"Alright, Belle, you're on set ten in five minutes, let's go," Jefferson said to Belle. He gave Gold a thumbs up and a wink, clearly liking what was done in that scene.

"Great job," Belle said, smiling at Gold as she walked by him to get to her next set. Gold couldn't help but stare at her as she walked by. The entire time this exchange was going on, Killian Jones was standing around, still taking in what had happened on set. He began to observe this new actress, Barbara Michaels, in a very different light than when they first met. Gold was about to walk off the set when Jones stopped him.

"Barbara," Jones said to Gold.

"Um – yes?" Gold replied.

"That was – that was wonderful. We haven't had a truly consummate actress like you on this show for ages – possibly ever. I can't wait to work with you again, it's clear to me that there's so much I can learn from you," Jones said.

"Well – thank you very much, you did very well yourself," Gold replied in a patronizing tone that went right over Jones' head.

"Welcome to Storybrooke General," Jones said, and before Gold knew what was happening, Jones grabbed him and kissed him on the lips, and then he smiled and sauntered away, as Gold stood there in shock.

Gold exited the building after a full day of work, and saw Belle standing in front of the doorway signing autographs for a few fans that were waiting outside. He approached her when she was finished.

"Thank you, Miss French, for making it such a nice first day on the set for me," Gold said to her.

"Oh, you call me Belle, please. And we'll see if you still feel that way in few weeks. You did great today," Belle said.

"Hey – Belle! Let's go!" Gaston shouted as he stood in the doorway of a waiting cab. Gold looked up in surprise – why was he waiting for her, he wondered.

"Hey, you need a ride anywhere? Maybe you can stop with us and have a drink?" Belle suggested.

'Us?' Gold thought to himself. Was she dating that arrogant ass?

"Um – no thank you, I – I think I'll just be going home," Gold replied.

"Okay – see you tomorrow then," Belle said. Belle walked toward the cab, and Gaston patted her on the behind as she entered. Gold flinched at the sight of it. What was a beautiful, smart, funny and sweet girl doing with that creep? She could do so much better. He sighed as he walked down the street, heading home.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumbelle au

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inexchangeforyoursoul · 6 years

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... I forgot to put the latest chepters of that thing here. Anyway, ch 14-15. This is about 6k words altogether. Seriously, you’re better off with any of the fanfic sites.

14. Law did not sign up for this

“You'll have to wait until the afternoon, though,” Robin informs her, which lowers Kat's excitement levels a bit. “We are planning to visit this winter fair opening in the city, we'll be out early.”

“... OOOH,” Kat says as the penny drops. She's kind of lost track of time while on her 'visit;' the streets must be littered with empty stands and decoration already. “Right... I forgot all about that...”

“You could join the fun, if you want to,” Robin continues. “The boys are also going out if you don't feel like getting up at an ungodly hour. You could show them around.”

“By which we mean it's better if someone keeps an eye on them,” she can hear Nami chime in.

“They are trouble magnets in the first place, and I see there's quite some of that to be found in this country,” she sighs, scanning a late page in her newspaper.

Kat's ears perk up upon hearing that. “There's local news?” She hops over to Nami to take a look herself.

The navigator hums, and tilts it a little so Kat can have a better look. “There's been an assassination attempt on an acclaimed author... and a bunch of people have disappeared in the past weeks from port towns across the country.”

“Someone wants a good asskicking,” she scoffs. “That Petrovits guy gets some shit for his topics, but is the best poet around. Hell, even I like the stuff I see from him, and I'm a fan of prose.”

“Well, he's fine, so there's that.”

Kat hums. “Have heard of the rumors of the missing people, though,” she notes, looking at the rest of the page. “The first ones are from over two weeks ago... at that time people said it was some gang war thing in the capitol.”

“And now it's unknown who's behind it, at least for the 32 remaining missed ones,” Nami adds, lowering the bundle of paper again. She sighs. “There are even children among them...”

“Hm.” Can't really add anything relevant here. Just then the door opens and shuts just as fast with Law arriving- and getting chills by the looks of it. No wonder, after spending a day or so inside the stuffy sub.

“How's it goin'?” Kat asks, turning towards him. She must be late... with all that gum flapping she's been doing it's not much of a surprise.

“Vaguely fake-hungry and probably bloody, hi,” he responds a second later while dropping an obligatory greeting for the girls who return the gesture. He also seems to be uncomfortable. Can't blame him. “Could I speak to you for a sec in private?”

… okay, that's unexpected.

Nami and Robin sit down on the bench where they will probably not bother them, although one can never be too sure with Robin around. Walking to the other side of the room, he scratches the top of his head. “These fucking cramps are not getting any better, goddammit...” he grumbles. There also might be a headache incoming.

She sighs. “Had to jinx it, didn't I... Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

He dismisses that with a flip of his hand. “No, I will survive. It's about something else, though related.” Something that's been bugging him out of the blue for the past fifteen minutes at least. Dragging her back can wait as much, too.

“Shoot away.”

“Is it common that your...” How is he going to put this without... well, saying anything that people may catch out of context and make fun of. “... reproductive system wants attention during this?”

She clicks her tongue a second later. Poor guy gets to experience the full program by the looks of it... “If you mean the non-pain related attention, then yes, it is. Really bad about twice a year, too.”

Great. Well... at least he knows what to expect if this gets more drawn out. “Alright... and what do you do when this happens?”

This is such an exceptionally dumb question. Or maybe just denial speaking. Kat sighs... he's not gonna like what she's about to say. “What would you do? Anyway, you can either leave it be and hope for a distraction... or take matters into your own hands, so to speak.”

He needs a second. Did he understand her right? “Pardon?”

“I'm telling you... to touch yourself, Law,” she states without a shred of doubt and nary a hint of shame. “Also helps with the cramps, for the record. And, uh, before you ask or lose sleep over it... don't worry, I've been restraining myself in our current situation.”

Okay.... okay. He's not sure where to start. First, he'll... do his best to ignore that last comment. Second, he's just taken aback at how she would just blurt out something like this. She's no prude, that's for sure. Or just trying to be helpful, which is... reassuring, if nothing else. Before long, he thinks into the biological aspect of her suggestion, too, and, well... a climax would release tension in the entire body, that is to say, there also would be no cramps. “I'll... have to refuse the advice, but still... why does your random commentary always make sense?”

She shrugs. Ouch; that's her shoulders being full-out sore again. “Anyway,” she speaks up, “your choices are do, don't, and a pill against suicidal organ tantrum to get rid of that at least.”

“Well put,” Law groans while dragging both hands down his face. He has no energy for this. The day is easily the worst he's had for a while. Will not miss it once over; though, if he thinks about the potential horrors of tomorrow... god help him now, if ever.

“Try slow and steady breathing, that also helps,” she says while stretching her shoulders, then sets out direction girls again.

“I'll try. Where are you going?”

“Making a request,” she groans. She's going to try and avoid swallowing too much poison, so...

Arriving at the other two, Kat takes a deep breath. “Um... Robin...? I'm sorry for troubling you with this, but... could I ask you to help with my neck, please?” she starts; “I've slept on it and the painkiller has as good as stopped working by now...”

“Sure thing, Nami has already mentioned you might ask.”

Her cushion neighbor makes a little reassuring gesture at Kat.

“Thanks a lot,” she breathes with a sheepish smile.

“What was the matter that needed a private chat?” Robin asks as she plops down next to her.

“Menstruation,” she points at Law who's just arrived, without thinking.

Nami is a little taken aback by the statement, saying nothing but a surprised little 'oh'. Robin doesn't miss a beat; “Get well soon,” she says looking over to Law.

Kat did indeed just out him like that... “Could you maybe not tell everyone? Thanks,” he says with a stare that's two shades away from murder. Realizing this will take a while, he also crashes next to them with crossed arms.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, then her breath hitches as she can feel hands being pressed against her shoulders.

“Where exactly does it hurt?” asks Robin as she receives the newspaper from Nami who's apparently done reading.

“Oh, it's... the upper part of the trapezius whe-eep!” Kat squeals as the ghastly fingers touch the front of her shoulders, but she realizes that was just a reflex; Law's body seems to be less sensitive. “Um, never mind. Apparently I'm not ticklish right now...”

Robin giggles and she can also hear Law laughing under his breath.

“Anyway, what I wanted to say...” Kat says addressing him again, “is that you have temporary membership in the all girls club. Told you that you could ask anyone else about this stuff, too.”

He just sighs. “If I wanted to discuss it with someone else, I would have done so.”

“Kat is right, though,” Nami says stretching a bit. “Being a cute girl is not easy, especially if you were not raised to be one. We'll help out, no problem.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever.”

After a couple of minutes of silence which is getting awkward (Nami's disappeared for a minute before coming back with a notice book she's now writing into, Robin's reading while kneading her back, Law's just... moping about, likely thinking about something), Kat is tempted to sing... which is a temptation she eventually gives into, but after the first few hummed tones she feels a finger in her side that's rewarded with another startled and unnecessary squeak.

“What are you getting jumpy for? I'm not ticklish,” she can hear from her left. Kat's being given a look that says 'stop that' with some annoyance and maybe, just maybe a smidgen of cocky delight mixed in.

Right, right, no singing... but: he's yet to complain about a lot of other things, with or without reason. “Yeah... you are not ticklish,” she smiles wide, turning towards him. Law is immediately alert and feels the room heat up around him; he's never understood the fight or flight instinct quite as well as in this very moment. He forgot all about the 'don't try to one-up her at being a little shit' rule. At least until he got his body back, because he can't possibly... run from himself... “But I am~” she states with the most malicious face he's seen her pull thus far. He's ready to jump this train... if it weren't for an out-of place arm to his left to block his way. Goddammit, Nico-ya.

“No, nO! Nhoho.. ahah... shit...!” That last word was akin to a mouse's squeak... This is so unbecoming. Conclusion is, being ticklish sucks. He'll have to keep his two odd spots top secret with her around... or use it against her if needed.

Before he knows it, she's already released him, though. “Don't worry, I'm done... I don't like being tickled, either,” Kat laughs, but his attention shifts to another wet and unpleasant issue which is reflected on his face.

“You... weren't lying when you said it would feel gross,” he groans, lowering his hands back to his abdomen. The 'fake-hunger' has long entered 'definitely pain' territory, too, which has become more apparent after (forcibly) laughing for a bit. At least he forgot about the whole issue of being horny, so that's off the table.

“... Oh... sorry,” she replies. He'd have to deal with it anyway, but still... that's no reason to be that down in itself. “Can't tell if it's because you're not used to it or it's being really severe, but this won't do,” she adds a few seconds later, sighing.

Law just groans. He's thinking about getting something from his room, but he has no intention to knock himself out cold; he has literally nothing ready that wouldn't do that to a body that likely sees any kind of pill every blue moon. And sitting down to work out a fix in this state? Not today. Not asking Ikkaku, he'd never hear the end of it. He's tempted to ask what exactly Kat got from this ship in the morning, it might help... or ask Chopper for whatever he has for Nami and Robin, because good lord, if they also deal with this on a daily basis without aid, he's beyond impressed. Wait, why is there ringing in his ears? Oh, to hell with all of this.

He can feel a warm hand on his back. “Hey... do you want to go down to your room?” The stimulus pats some awareness back into Law- it's not enough to get an answer out of him, though. It's too... hot in here.

She takes a deep sigh. “Alright, let's do this, then,” she groans standing up, then flips him over in one fell swoop.

Robin puts the back of her hand on his temples, to which he frowns; her hand's rather cool and gives him the chills. On the other hand, while he wasn't exactly about to faint, this position is working wonders.

“A little too warm, are you not?” she asks thoughtfully.

“Definitely not just PMS,” Kat states while crouching next to him. “Told you that the heat trap of yours would be trouble.”

“Don't lecture me,” he mumbles with a vague swat in her direction. He's not about to take her 'told-you-so', even if she's likely to be right. Dizziness, to his knowledge uncharacteristically strong cramps, and the rapid heartbeat that's getting back to normal by the minute... might as well be the signs of heat exhaustion. It's cooler than yesterday, but the aquarium kept this room cozy after all those sunny days. He'll need to be much more careful with her body.

“Should I call Chopper over?” asks Nami who's been eavesdropping since Kat avenged getting poked.

“Nah,” he sighs. “I'll just need something to drink... and antispasmodic.” Having said that he removes his hat that Robin knocked aside earlier. It also keeps him warm, after all. This comes with the unfortunate effect of glaring lights in his eyes, so he crosses his arms over his head.

“So you're saying that 'yes, we should get Chopper',” Kat remarks with a smug half-smile. From where he lies, it's almost as if her mouth was curved like a mink's.

This time he does hit her head with the rather aimless swat of the hat. She just snorts and takes it from him.

Nami's also laughing. “We won't need him, but I will go get the stuff for you. It will take a while until you actually feel better, though. Until then... hang in there.”

“Legends said... that the hand of a boyfriend also works.” Kat says spacing out, lifting one of hers. It's the closest thing they have right now.

“And, does it work?” asks Nami with a sly little smile.

“Dunno, never had one,” is her honest response to that as she shrugs and puts the hat on. Then puts her hand on Law's stomach, to which he flinches.

“Hey,” he groans. “no touching.”

“Sssh, rest,” she purrs, giving his-her tummy some light pats.

Law lets out a prolonged growl and thinks fuck it, he's just gonna wait these next few minutes out and then get back to the submarine. Also has his doubts regarding the effectiveness of the gesture, but he has to admit it doesn't feel terrible. He does wince every time Kat moves a finger, or thinks she moves a finger, anyway. All despite the fact that her expression tells of someone who's at least five layers deep in daydreams rather than potentially make the sudden decision to tickle him again.

Meanwhile Nami trotted outside, soon to return. Not alone, though.

“I followed the giggles of an angel and have been told it was in need of some refreshment~” Sanji sings as he flips inside with a glass of water after the navigator, who rolls her eyes with a lenient smile. In the very moment he sees Kat and Law (who might or might not have snorted at the development) next to the peacefully reading Robin, he remembers the small detail that seems to short circuit him whenever it surfaces. He seems to be almost over it after a few seconds, though. Slowly, but surely, he's getting there. Walking up to them, he coughs. “What's the matter?”

Kat looks over to Nami with a smile creeping onto her face. “Just some internal bleeding,” she states with the most Law-like voice she can pull under the circumstances, then reaches and takes the glass with a hand without further commentary. The redhead grins wide as the intent dawns on her.

Sanji's composure? It never existed. Must be keeping it in the shirt that he's clutching now, close enough to nibble at it if he really wanted to. “Internal bleeding?! Can it become deadly?!?”

Good lord, he's either slow or... or someone educate this man. Someone who's not her.

“... Eventually, yeah.” Kat doesn't even have to act deadpan here, she just is; she can feel Law shaking under her touch, too. Looking at him there's an unmistakable smile to be spied in the cover of his arms. There's a double sense of accomplishment. OK, enough dicking around.

“Sanji... every healthy person with a uterus bleeds sometimes,” she drawls in her own tone before the cook could spiral down into a panic attack. He seems to have ascended (or rather descended...) to another plane upon hearing that. Then she turns back to Law, giving one last pat; “You get up, princess.”

The only reason he does not swat her again is the glass of water in her hand that he kind of needs. He does give her a disgruntled look while taking it from her and downing half of it immediately, though. Then he murmurs a 'thanks' to Nami as he snatches the pill from her palm, finishing off the rest.

“Alright,” he starts with unexpected vigor, “I'm fine enough to fuck off. Let's just... go already,” he breathes then with fading enthusiasm as he stands up. As he's kind of tilting to the side, Kat stands up and grabs him by the shoulders, straightening him, though.

“Easy, there. Shitty circulation, remember?”

Oh, right. He kind of forgot about that, too. The colorful pulsating dots littering his vision are an ample reminder themselves, thank you very much. As they start fading a second or two later, he motions Kat to release him, to which she complies.

“Noted,” he breathes. “Let's go, then. We've lost a lot of time here.” With that, he's already near-running towards the door.

Robin sighs and shakes her head without looking up from her reading material; Nami reacts likewise.

“Welp,” Kat says, looking back at them for a moment, “I better make sure he doesn't fall into the sea or breaks his neck on the stairs.” With that, she also takes a hop direction door. “Bye, guys! And thanks a lot again, Robin! Life's already much more tolerable!”

“Gladly,” the woman answers, turning pages with a smile. Nami waves goodbye as well while Katslips out into the overcast outdoors, sitting back down to continue writing whatever. Sanji's... kind of standing there still. She might have broken him in an entirely different way this time.

She does have to stop thinking about the blonde cook for a bit, though- someone with unmistakably rugged skin is grabbing at her arm... oh bother.

“Oi, there you are!” she hears the ever so cheerful voice of Luffy behind her. “Torao, check out the robot Franky made! It's beyond amazing!! Chopper and Usopp helped make it! I'm sure you'll like it, too!”

Anything involving a combination of at least two of those names screams disaster. A beautiful, terrifying, horrifying, awe-inspiring disaster. Plus Luffy. She's almost curious to see what he'd deem as something Law would be interested in, honesty.

Catching the hard-to miss beaming of his partner-in-crime, her counterpart stops in his tracks. Kat can't see his face, but she can just feel the eye roll. Anyway, she should make this quick, for everyone's sake.

“Sorry, Luffy, but I've got work to do.”

… that pout, though. Positively adorable.

Law sighs, and takes a few steps back their direction. “Strawhat-ya... not now. She has to train.”

“Huh? Why train, and why now? He's not weak,” he states, squinting back at him as he crosses his arms.

If there's one thing Kat knows about Luffy apart from being vaguely obnoxious and generally nice, it's that logical tasks with abstract elements are sometimes just... a bit too much for him to handle.

“Luffy, this is Kat speaking. I gotta go back into Law's man cave so we can get back to normal and you can cling onto him like a koala again,” she sighs, still holding onto a faint semblance of a smile. She has not nearly enough social energy left to deal with someone of Luffy's caliber right now. Neither does Law, by the looks of it. Can she abort this mission quicker, please?

“Oh, okay...” He seems kind of bummed, especially once he remembers the exact situation they are in right now. Then he returns to normal, though. “Hurry up and get strong fast, then! There's a bunch of stuff I wanna show you both before I forget about most of it!”

Well, at least he's aware of his problem.

“See you around!!” With that, he's already gone, shooting off direction crow's nest.

Kat sighs with a less forced smile wondering for a moment whether the boys did their shenanigans up there of all places, then makes her way down; Law also shakes his head looking into the direction Luffy disappears in before following her. What a problem child.

Trotting down the metal staircase, and getting bored of the steps creaking, Law speaks up: “... can I ask you something?”

“Shoot away.”

“Even if it has to do with me having your body... I get the feeling that you tolerate me more than the other men around here,” he says. At least that seems to be the case. Penguin, Shachi, Sanji, Luffy... she's obviously tense and-or unresponsive around them, meanwhile she's been pretty damn friendly with the women from what he's seen. He actually feels kind of in the middle.

She takes a few seconds to respond. “Well... could be a factor, now that you mention it... but it's more about... how comfortable I'm around a person,” she explains. “I can get pretty rude if there's no way to shake off unwanted attention. Chopper, maybe Usopp and you are as good of a company I can wish for most of the time... Every other guy that has bothered with me or vica versa kinda pisses me off or is plain too high maintenance, like Luffy. He's also really loud, which is something I avoid. Then, anyone actively hitting on me makes me hells of uncomfortable, so Sanji's the stuff of nightmares to me... and I also keep distance from people who drink a lot. Can't stand the odor in the first place.” She sighs, scratching her head a bit, then turns to him. “Doesn't leave me with a lot of options here, does it?”

Easy enough to see her point; he nods to himself, satisfied with the answer. He's reminded of the other day when they were descending here together; “... I've actually been wondering why you even told me about Shachi... but it makes sense now.” He takes a deep breath. Now that he's done thinking about this and the attention steers back to himself, the cramps are letting themselves known again. Up to half an hour... just up to 30 minutes, and it will be fine.

“Oh, yeah... I hear he's blue about that. Hope he gets better soon...” she says, thinking back to the breakfast banters on the Sunny, then holds the door for him as they arrive.

“For someone who butchered him without a second thought, you sure feel bad about it,” he remarks as he plops down to his bureau. Indeed, he's heard quite a few rumors going around. They are hilarious.

“I actually do, Sir Snark.” Tapping her cheek, she's reminded of a prickly business. “By the way, I need to shave. Care to tell me where I find the stuff?”

“Not now, you've managed to waste about two hours of today's precious time already. Get back on task,” he states, counting down the pages in a bulky book.

Kat sighs. If she doesn't go shave right fucking now, when she remembers the task and is up to it, it may not get done until he actually has his body back three months down the road or something like that. Looking like a caveman has its perks, but it also sounds hells of uncomfortable. And scratch-inducing; she moved onto her neck and shoulders lately, but the irritation would be more than tempting. She'd rather not ruin his face, too. Time for some serious measurements.

Law feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns towards Kat; what the hell does she want now? Instead of a question, however, he's met with a sensation similar to someone rubbing sandpaper against his face. Except it is, in fact, his face.

“What the hell was that for?!” he asks, recoiling from the stubble that's both rough and vaguely... tickling, if that's a word. Which is, along with every derivation of it, one he doesn't want to hear again any time soon.

“The shaving kit, your prickliness,” Kat repeats her request unfazed, and perfectly content with today's accomplishments. Apart from other small victories, she's also managed to visibly spook, amuse, and embarrass the poker faced Law.

“... it's in the bathroom cabinet... top shelf,” he mumbles, rubbing his baby face. She's pretty darn headstrong when she wants to be. “Need help?”

“I remember how it goes.” She squints into the distance. “I think. Anyway, should be fine.” That foamy stuff followed by razors, maybe twice, then washing your face. Plus aftershave. At least that's what her grandfather did. As far as she can remember.

“Try not to cut your throat or something similarly stupid,” he moans then, returning to the book. “And make it quick.”

“Will do~ be right back,” with that, she skips out of the room.

Sliding the razor down with likely more care than it would be necessary halfway through the process, she stops for a second. If she wants to sneak out with the guys tomorrow, she might want to mix up her looks a bit, just to be on the safe side. After some consideration, she decides to get rid of the portion that's easiest to remove. Here goes nothing.

A few hours later, as she steps outside with a hoodie on her arm she just fished out of the chest of drawers (and which she hugs tight in the chilly evening), she's still pondering over Law not noticing the change. Then again, making rounds to the toilet or not, he was busy ignoring her after all the shenanigans she's pulled that day. So busy, in fact, that she could drop his earrings off into one of the many little boxes at her work station with ease. She has nearly everything she could think of. How long might it take for him tomorrow to notice she's not coming? Then finding her? He'll be so pissed...

Boarding the Thousand Sunny, she can hear familiar voices discussing some tech stuff nearby, which is just perfect. She jogs up to Franky and Usopp idling at the mast, then taps the back of the smaller man. “Hey, Usopp, do you guys have anything... to color hair?”

15. Chille tid

Before Kat knows it, it's already morning. Had some good sleep this time: no pain, no fiery nightmare, or any other dreams, really. She also did not wake before time and crawled out of her pile just as the bell tower announced 7 o'clock- the girls, as suspected, were nowhere to be seen. Concerning her neck, she also had little qualms; Robin's magic was indeed otherworldly. Like, it wasn't perfect, but the few odd stings were nothing to write home about. If she ever wanted to, that is.

It takes her quite some time to get ready this time; she can hear the boys running about by 8 when she finishes up. Gotta pick up pace.

Yesterday evening she agreed with Usopp to meet up on deck and go together with Luffy, Carrot and Chopper. Something tells her that the mink dumped them in favor of the girls, though. She takes one last look at her handiwork and makes sure she has her purse that she stuffed with some bills back when she dragged Law home, then steps outside. She sees that she was right: no bunnies to be seen- and neither are reindeer, for the record. She can see why the leftover two are a little miffed.

“Wow! So that's why you asked for the paint...” Usopp cracks a smile. “You are taking the camouflage business seriously.”

“Of course I do... all of you are famous, but this dumbass was basically the cover girl of the news for almost two years,” she says pointing at her winking self, then flips the sunglasses on her head onto her nose.

“Oh, that's cool!” Luffy shouts with enthusiasm, running a lap around her to take it in in all its glory.

Usopp checks her out from where he stands and nods approvingly. “Pretty good, I have to say... wouldn't have known it was you if it weren't for my glasses. And paint.”

It does take a more attentive eye to guess that she's strolling around in Trafalgar Law's body; all hair being carefully colored a dull whitish grey is the most prominent change. Could not get it actually white because it was too dark to begin with. Second obvious thing is that the earrings are missing. And... she also shaved the beard as-is. Oh, and there's that hoodie.

“Unfortunately his clothes are pretty much all the same... this one seemed a little off, that's why I took it,” Kat says musing, then stretches out the fabric. The really dark blue base material has a slightly cartoonish, big polar bear sewn into the middle. “It kind of matches the hair, too,” she smiles. The ensemble is as close to perfection as it can get with the current materials available to her. Minus the fake mole which she decided against, because of smudge danger.

“I still think he's going to kill you for the goatee,” Usopp sighs.

She takes a deep sniff of the cool-ish morning air. “He'll try, that's for sure... By the time he's in this body again, it will have grown back, though.”

“You are pretty pessimistic,” he remarks with a lifted brow and a half-smile.

“I prefer to call it 'realistic,' but yeah, I don't think he'll get it back any time soon.” Thinking about it, he should ask for it nicely, too. Anyway, that's worry for another day. “So, where do you guys want to begin?” she asks, stretching.

“I want to be where the party's at... and the meat!” Luffy states with confidence.

“We have no idea,” Usopp sighs, stepping direction port. “Half of the stuff on the flier we didn't even understand. Any recommendations?”

“Honestly? No...” she says, pondering. The whole thing is rather bare-bones apart from the seasonal food one can get when too lazy to cook and bake. Oh, and there's concerts and such, but she never cared about that. “Actual parties won't be a thing until Friday. Though we could check out a few places that didn't change place in the past year...s...” Thinking about it, this is her third fair, that is to say, almost third year here. Damn, time sure goes fast, her counter's been stuck on two all this time. Her birthday's also not that far away... she'll probably forget about that as-is, though. Her boss will be the one to remind her, like last time. Yep.

“And, are those worth a visit?” Usopp asks upon stepping down the ladder as his captain just hops off to the shore.

Kat shrugs. “Guess so. Let's just tackle the whole shebang and see where we end up,” she concludes, getting on the ladder herself.

As such, they just walk upwards the main street. Close to the ports is the cheap memorabilia stuff and tacky clothes. As she's looking around, a dark object catches her attention in the corner of a shop that sells oddly patterned shirts and sweaters. Oh. My god.

“You seeing what I'm seeing?” she pokes Usopp (who in turn grabs Luffy by the collar so he won't disappear from sight), pointing at the shop.

“Oooh, good eye,” he notes also noticing the piece. Luffy also mumbles a 'nice' under his breath and is already stepping into that direction.

The one with that wonderful, wonderful black turtleneck with the ribcage print.

“It better fucking fit him,” she sings, beelining for the object.

Five minutes later she's in an especially elated mood, and her clothes acquired an additional layer. Another ten minutes later, they finally move on from the shopkeeper girl who's quite obviously eyeing her all the time after peeling 7 new layers off of Luffy. (The garish hoodie with the bells was an absolute no. He could keep an especially hideous waistcoat with hedgehogs and red apples, though.) Normally, she would think thrice about buying anything, but having company makes it a hundred times easier to throw some money out of the window. She has more than enough by now anyway by saving on everything apart from food and the occasional art supplies. It's fun, too. It will be hella big on her once she has her own body, but A) she wants to see Law's reaction and B) owning a cheap piece of shit like this? Common sense.

She's especially happy about the extra insulation as the clear skies brought an especially cold morning. The first frost hangs onto some spots further away from the sea, though it quickly melts away as the shadows recede. Pondering about that, she bumps into Usopp.

“Welp, sorry.”

“Say, Kat, who, or what, are those?” he asks with fascination and mild worry, glaring at some costumed people with vaguely goat-like masks and shaggy fur coats. Seems like she also missed Luffy running off to check them out for himself. He's already done, apparently, as he jogs back towards them. Seems like he got a piece of candy.

“Oh, those are bushoo. You'll see a lot more of these guys near the weekend... Anyway, it's the last week before fasting season and they play some role in the tradition.”

Hearing that, he hums something that could be an 'aha'. “Fasting? No wonder people have a festival like this, then. What exactly are the scary costumes about, though?”

“The story is that they are here to spook winter away. Can't really say more, culture is not my department, so to say.”

Usopp (and Luffy who's been eavesdropping for a second) cock their heads to the side.

“Scare winter away?” The sniper asks with pessimism in his voice.

“Isn't it just about to begin?” Luffy continues the train of thought, then flings the candy, along with wrapping, into his mouth.

“Well, yeah... over here, it is. But this archipelago is basically a climate rainbow, and we are on the opposite side to where the custom originates from,” she explains to them, also tilting her head while trying to get the gears in her head responsible for school days going.

“Oh, so it's a mystery island! Cool!” With that, Luffy's attention is no more. Concerning the topic, that is; he immediately shoots off direction food and colorful stuff further ahead, wondering what those are about. His pocket money won't last for long.

Kat giggles. Usopp seems more interested in the deal, though.

“That sounds rather unique! At least this is the first island I've seen that has more seasons than usual...” Thinking along, Usopp seems to be taken aback by an idea. “Wait, this place doesn't have all 16 seasons of the Grand Line, right?!”

“Nnnope, only eight or nine, depending on who you ask. The middle parts are rather stable, so many count it as a unique one: it's never quite cold enough for it to be winter, or hot enough to be called summer... full of pensioners,” she adds in a whisper, which he awards with a snicker. Coughing, she continues; “Anyway, from what I remember, there are two islands, a spring one in the North-West and another fall one in the South, which were originally aligned and the only ones here for a long time. Then, some volcanic bullshit went down and the others emerged. Horka here is the latter of the two, actually. The people on the spring island Slaka up North are just about done with winter.”

He nods wisely. “I see, I see... Still, pretty impressive.”

“Have you guys seen Sibenburg? That's the biggest one today, still growing... it's surrounded by active volcanoes,” she continues, trailing off. The edge she grew up on had one semi-active volcano in the sea (plus another multimutant in the distance), but the Eastern mountains surrounded by a bunch of them is possibly the coolest place she's ever visited. Pretty hot and has awful air, though. At times one can smell the brimstone in the morning when there are Northern winds. Not missing her town aside, it's oddly comforting.

“Yeah, that's where we arrived first... I was almost disappointed when it turned out it's not some Hell's Gates type of deal, you know~ Either way, no wonder Nami has been taking her time as we sailed through here,” he laughs, dropping the rugged adventurer facade.

“Ah, right... the log pose should have been set by now... six days in the north, eight over here, wasn't it?” No matter how she's looking at it, the time has long passed. Oh man, she better not be reason for them not setting sail... didn't even think about that.

“Dunno, she just tells us whenever we are about to leave. Because of him, though,” he points at Luffy, who has ran over to a mask stand with pieces similar to the bushoo earlier, trying every piece on at a mirror, “I'm pretty sure we'll stay for the festivities. Nine times outta ten, he has the last say, unfortunately.”

“I see,” she mumbles with a lenient smile. That's quite a relief.

With that, she can also feel something else along with Usopp- and that's someone's hand swatting their bums. “Don't be so stiff, boys! Enjoy yourselves!” That's all the lady who's way above 50 and wearing half of a bushoo set shouts before disappearing into obscurity with a laugh. They can hear more slaps and some concerned shouts littering her way.

They look at each other.

“What. The hell.” With a dot. Two of them. That's all she can muster.

“Was kinda hoping you had an explanation for that, too...” he responds.

“Actually... I've heard of her? But only as... the stuff of legends, you know?” she squeaks, trying to shake off the stiffness, looking back direction Luffy who's at the next booth ordering some tea. “Never expected to experience it firsthand, though.”

“Joking is the best way to get over it, alright,” Usopp sighs.

“Actually... I didn't mean to make a joke, but thanks for pointing it out,” Kat laughs, stepping forward at last. “Let's also get some tea going, what do you say?”

#KMKY #Kate writes #well I found a typo so there's that

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