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theimpossiblescheme · 2 years

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May We Know Them

(Or: How Clarisse de Cagliostro Lived Outside Her Tower)

There was a story Christopher told her once, on an evening lit with fireflies and heavy with the day’s fatigue, over matching cups of hot chocolate. A story about a man whose wife had disappeared.

“He never saw much of her during the day, truth be told,” Christopher said quietly, gazing just past her out the open window. “He was always busy tending the grounds, keeping the trees healthy, polishing the flagstones… and she stayed home with the children. She wanted to work, too, but there was never time. Besides, her--her health was never the best.”

He took a long drink before continuing, as if the chocolate were some fortifying liquor. “He appreciated her for it, really. She worked just as hard as he did, just differently. It let him be away from home more, not worry so much. So he could focus on making the place beautiful again. But one day, he… he got home, and she wasn’t there. The children weren’t there either.” Shaking, gnarled hands replaced the cup on the endtable. “Never knew what happened to the children… he never even saw her die. One minute she was there, beautiful as anything, and then the next… gone. Just gone.”

Clarisse’s hands tightened around her own cup as she puzzled over this. “Even when she was sick, she was still beautiful?”

Christopher’s eyes flickered, as if startled to notice her there beside him, before dropping into his lap. “She was always beautiful… he couldn’t imagine her any other way.”

“Would he have still loved her if she wasn’t?”

At first, no answer. Then Christopher got to his feet, knees creaking, and picked his cup back up. “Let me get us some more chocolate, Princess.”

That was all the answer Clarisse needed.

In her travels across her new kingdom, she had met many such women. Women with tired eyes, bruised hands, and resigned smiles hiding a small army of children behind their skirts, who talked endlessly about the amazing and arduous work their husbands, brothers, and fathers did. Who never failed to mention how proud they were, how much more beautiful Cagliostro would become thanks to their toil. But who never talked about themselves except in passing, selflessly denigrating their own struggles in comparison and never wishing to be a burden on their loved ones. Even if their babies cried all night no matter how much they tried to calm them, or their gardens withered after a hard winter, or their chests heaved with bitter coughs that never seemed to go away. It was all worth it, they insisted, for their families and their country--it was a burden they would gladly shoulder.

Clarisse always figured that if their husbands, brothers, and fathers truly loved them, they would share that burden instead of leaving it miles behind. And if less beauty in Cagliostro meant fewer of these tired-eyed, quietly suffering women, she would gladly accept that bargain.

She’d been in very real danger of becoming one of those women herself, she knew. The Count toyed with the life of a young girl like a boy threatening to rip the arms off a doll, and in the best case scenario he would have let it shrivel to nothing in the darkness of her tower while he stayed below and continued his counterfeiting. After her rescue, Clarisse tried to follow Lupin instead, leaning toward his kindness like a neglected sunflower and blinded by the prospect of becoming the student of a world-renowned thief. He’d seen this foolish wish for what it was and turned her away, and in retrospect she found herself very glad he had.

She was more than a doll or a sunflower, or the lovely gem locked in the topmost tower, or the child in the garden. And lives, especially young lives, were not traded away so rashly.

Since taking her throne, Clarisse had spent many sleepless nights writing speeches, drafting new laws with one or two trusted counselors, burning so many candles she could have collected the wax and melted them together into one giant candle. She ruined countless dresses wading in the tepid water of the catacombs, collected human remains for proper dignified burials, and traded her slippers for boots as she knelt to scrub graffiti from the walls. Her hair smelled like burnt metal for days after the destruction of the printing presses, and her fingernails stayed short and blunt as the space was slowly transformed into a shelter for the poor and homeless. These were all jobs for the men, but she refused to stay at home, delicate and neglected, as they were carried out. Many boys her age--tradesmen’s apprentices, flush and swaggering with pride at working alongside their heroes--gave her glowing, grinning compliments after she helped them dismantle some machine or corrected the angle of a beam they were erecting. Clarisse paid them little mind. Her work was not for them. It was for her country. It was long and difficult and made her arms and calves ache for days, but it was necessary, and she picked up extra duties wherever she could. So more of these men could go home to their wives, sisters, and mothers for a change.

And when the sun set, even if they were underground and couldn’t see it, she bade them all go home and rest anyway. Nothing, no matter how beautiful or useful, came before their health. Every so often, one of the workers would invite her over for dinner, and she always came with a basket of anything she could swipe from the kitchens. But she seldom sat around boasting with the men and boys. Instead, Clarisse would fill a few new bowls to hand around to all the women and girls sitting near the kitchen before pulling up a chair close to them. To them, she was never “Your Highness”, “Princess”, or even “Little Miss”. She was just “Clarisse.” And she was loved. Not admired, not envied--loved. Even with dirt under her nails.

She wished no less for any of them in return. She’d always been the kind of person who used the word “love” liberally, to the point where it stopped feeling like a word and more like another essential syllable, and she always meant it. And she hoped she’d be the same with grey hair and arthritic fingers.

Between restorations and visits across Cagliostro, Clarisse had taken to writing her own stories, all about these women and girls. So they might never be seen only as beautiful distant objects again, secondary to the men in their lives.

(She briefly considered writing about Lupin, but he must already have so many pages dedicated to him by now. There were enough stories about thieves, even heroic ones, and not enough about the stolen hearts and lives.)

The first person she showed them to was her new friend, a woman called Fio--once starstruck by her own brave hero, now forging her own path as an engineer and mechanic. Fio loved every sentence and urged her to keep writing. “Save me an advance copy when you get published,” she’d said on another firefly-lit evening over another pair of hot chocolates. “And let me know when you’re working on the next one!”

Clarisse knew exactly what to do for the next one.

After several weeks of asking for every tidbit and tale anyone could offer, turning everything Christopher had said that night over in her mind, she found herself in front of an old thatched cottage. A once-proud shed slouched in the back, and over the door swung a sign that read Walter Masonry. When she knocked at the door, the sound of a grindstone came to a stop, and one of the shop workers came out to greet her. Her dark hair was trying to escape its practical bun and falling in limp strands around her (familiar, broad, bushy-browed) face, but when she realized who it was, she hurriedly tucked them behind her ears. “Oh--Your Highne--er, Clarisse!”

Before she could curtsey or apologize for the mess, Clarisse just smiled. “It’s all right, I’m not exactly dressed for a ball either,” she said, gesturing down at her grass-stained skirt and muddy boots.

Miss Walter managed a weak laugh as she pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her front apron pocket. “I’m almost done, anyway. You’re welcome to come in while I finish, and then I’ll put some tea on for us.”

“That sounds wonderful. And actually, when you’re done… I wanted to ask you about your mother.”

Miss Walter’s eyes widened, and her first attempt at speaking stuck in her throat. “What… What do you want to know about her?” It wasn’t suspicion or even grief in her voice. Just genuine surprise.

Clarisse’s smile widened in turn, and she reached out to take the other young woman’s hand. “Everything you can tell me.”

#lupin iii #the castle of cagliostro #fanfic #I was very inspired by stories about Miyazaki himself and his relationships with both his family and his employees #(especially his relationship with his own wife) and the fact that Sumi Shimamoto--the voice of Clarisse--would later voice Nausicaa.#In case I didn't telegraph it enough Miss Walter at the end is Christopher the groundkeeper's daughter all grown up.#And yes that is Fio Piccolo from 'Porco Rosso' as Clarisse's friend because they both need and deserve all the friends in the world.#I will never be off my Justice and Interiority For Minor Female Characters bullshit and that is a threat. XD

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douglasfeiffel · 2 years

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Nnnnmgh I dont have anyone to talk about hfth to </3333

#i want to embroider a Walter pensives groundkeeping patch in recent news #hfth

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elliseleven · 16 days

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Not to potterpost in 2024 but Remus Lupin is sexy asf

#just rewatched prisoner of azkaban for the millionth time #and apparently this is my take away #i'm staying at this campsite where some of the cottages are made to look like houses from fantasy novels #and one of them is hagrid's hut (called the groundkeepers cottage bc of copyright)#it's so cool #and it's also unofficial which i like bc rowling is getting NONE of our money #anyway stan lupin #i want to give him a hug #and other things #but mostly a hug

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footballandfiasco · 7 months

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#so curious what y'all would pick #polls

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lovelyllamasblog · 7 months

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I LOVE the Addams family and Twisted Wonderland, so mashing them together just feels right to me.

For @sandbees and @rottenlimepudding for their Yuu Addams headcannons.

(This is more of my own headcannons then an actual story. More below the cut 👇)

Wednesday wakes up to find herself in a coffin, much to her delight. Perhaps Pugsley has finally bested her and buried her alive. What fun! She is proud of her brother. Unfortunately, the noise outside the coffin is making it difficult for her to enjoy it.

Grim opens the coffin to find her awake and Wednesday politely asks that he close the lid and let her enjoy her time in the coffin. Grim is shocked for a moment, but recovers and demands her robes.

Wednesday is a bit taken aback by his request for her to decloth herself and she looks down at her attire. Sure enough, her simple black dress has been changed into a robe with ornate details and an under outfit consisting of a black dress shirt and black slacks. Wednesday finds this a bit odd as she doesn't remember changing her clothes.

Grim opens another coffin nearby and her brother, Pugsley, pops out. Wednesday is surprised by this and so is Pugsley. The two converse for a bit about their new found predicament, questioning who could have done this to them. Grim shouts at them for ignoring him and runs away when he hears voices nearby.

Wednesday decides to follow the cat monster since he seems to know something. She follows him for a bit before they run into Headmaster Crowley, who questions why she is out of her Gate so quickly. Wednesday is perplexed by his statement and questions him, only to be ignored and led back to the Mirror Chamber where she left Pugsley.

The dorm heads are surprised by her appearance, but Crowley proceeds with the sorting ceremony. When the Mirror can't sort either of them or send them home, Crowley is left with no choice but to let the siblings stay in the Ramshackle dorm.

The siblings are immediately taken with their new accommodations, praising everything, from the broken floorboards to the cobwebs and even the Happy Haunts. Crowley is a bit perplexed by their behavior, but lets it go. He makes a deal with the siblings that they can be the groundkeepers while he finds a way to send them home.

And thus begins the Addams Siblings Adventures in Twisted Wonderland.

Wednesday Addams

The eldest Addams sibling, she is smart, cunning, and apathetic, with a penchant for doing very odd scientific experiments. She is fascinated by death and has a large variety of pets back home, including a lion named Kitty Kat, an octopus named Socrates, and a spider named Homer. She is an expert marksman, martial artist, and even experiences psychic visions from time to time. She enjoys experimenting on her brother, Pugsley, who will gladly partakes as her test subject.

Her relationship with many of her classmates is just as strange as she is. Many of the students have a respect for her, since she can easily kick their buts in any category.

🕸️Ramshackle

Grim - she finds him annoying and will more often than not leave him Pugsley's care, since they get along better. She does find his caring side endearing, especially after dealing with the more troubling situations she finds herself in.

The Happy Haunts - she finds their company joyful and likes to listen to their stories of when they were alive, and especially the stories of their deaths.

❣️Heartslabyul

Riddle - they have respect for one another as students and often have deep and meaningful conversations about the books they like to read. Riddle also likes her because she helps him hide from Floyd when he's being annoying.

Ace - they do not get along. They fight a lot and have a lot of different opinions on things.

Deuce - she gets along better with Deuce than Ace. She does, however, dislike his apparent like of a brain.

Trey - he treats her like a little sister, often giving her sweets to taste test when she visits Heartslabyul to talk with Riddle.

Cater - she dislikes him taking pictures of her without her express permission, and has even threatened to break his phone on more than one occasion.

🦁Savanclaw

Leona - the first time a Savanaclaw student tried to mess with her and her brother, she easily beat them up and since then, the whole dorm have kept a clear distance of them. Leona respects her for her strength, but finds her friendship with a certain hunter strange.

Jack - they don't spend a lot of time together due to their different interests, but they like to study together. He reminds her a bit of her friend from her old school.

Ruggie - she finds him interesting and thinks he would be better off without Leona. He respects her strength but likes to keep a clear distance from her like the rest of the dorm.

🐙Octavinelle

Azul - she likes him because he reminds her of her pet octopus, Socrates. She'll offer him the same treats that Socrates likes and even refer to him as Socrates from time to time without realizing it.

Jade - they have a shared interest in mushrooms. They especially like to talk about the more poisonous ones.

Floyd - she greatly dislikes him due to his loud and frankly boorish nature. His nickname for her is Frilled Shark.

🪔Scarabia

Kalim - she finds his need to drag her to one of his parties annoying but does have a bit of a soft side for his naivete. She thinks he needs to experience the hardships in life so that he can grow properly.

Jamil - they have a great respect for each other academically, but she thinks he would be better off without Kalim holding him back all the time.

🍎Pomefiore

Vil - while she does understand the need to take of oneself is great, she dislikes his, frankly, extreme views on beauty.

Epel - she thinks his country accent is somewhat cute and lets him speak naturally around her, since she thinks one should not hide themselves behind a mask.

Rook - their relationship is perhaps the strangest of all. When she found out he was following her around campus, she took her crossbow and shot at him in front of everyone! She warned him that there would be consequences if he kept doing it. Rook was delighted by her marksmanship and thus they started a friendly competition to see who can shoot the closest without killing the other. He refers to her as Mademoiselle Noir.

💀Ignihyde

Idia - a dorm based around death? You have instantly won her friendship. Idia could be less than pleased to see her wandering around the dorm, but she says that she likes it so who is he to argue? Plus, he's more than a little scared of her.

Ortho - he's so happy that his brother has found a friend! Kind of? She likes to ask Ortho questions about his gears and he likes to hear her stories about her family.

🛞Diasomnia

Malleus - he thinks her fascination with the dark side of the world is adorable and is more than happy to answer her questions about the different types of fey in Twisted Wonderland.

Lilia - he sees her as an daughter and will pop by the Ramshackle dorm every so often to make sure the siblings are okay.

Sebek - AN INSOLENT HUMAN ACTING CLOSE TO LORD MALLEUS? THIS CANNOT STAND! She thinks he is loud and annoying.

Silver - he sees her in a sisterly light, though he does find her darker tendences more than a littler concerning. She finds it strange that he falls asleep all the time.

📚NRC Staff

The staff have all tried to confiscate her crossbow before, but she keeps getting it back somehow, so they've given up after a while.

They all look after the siblings and check on them to make sure they are okay. Well, Crewel, Trein, Vargas, and Sam do. Crowley is always off doing his "headmaster duties" as he puts it.

Crewel things her interest with poisons is fascinating and lets her experiment in the lab after classes are over. Supervised of course.

Trein finds her company pleasant and they often talk about history and books together.

Vargas tries to get her to do more outdoor activities, but she always tries to find a way to get out of it.

The siblings think Sam may be a long lost member of their family. They love to visit his store and he has even showed them his family's collection of cursed items.

⚔️RSA

The siblings don't really care for the school's rivalry. They go to the events to cheer on their friends. In their own special way of course ;)

Ambrose the 63rd - they haven't really interacted very much, but she does hold respect for him as an educator and as a headmaster.

Neige - unlike Kalim, she finds his apparent naivete a tad bit annoying and wonders if he just putting on an act.

Chenya - she isn't really bothered by the cat beastman's antics, but dislikes when he decides to make her his target.

The Dwarves - she finds them cute, to a certain degree.

Pugsley Addams

The younger of the two Addams siblings, he is a bit on the dim side, but does have an interest in engineering . He and sister are close and he is a willing participant in her experiments.

Most of the student body is shocked by their relationship. With all their talks of sword fighting, electric chairs, and eating poisonous mushrooms, one would think they are trying to kill each other! They have reassured everyone that it is simply a family tradition.

Floyd calls him Pelican Eel and Rook calls him Monsieur Conoissuer.

Enid Sinclair

Wednesday's friend and roommate from her old school. Enid is the exact opposite of Wednesday; she adores bright colors and is kind and caring. She is very friendly towards Wednesday's new classmates, despite their school's rivalry. She is protective of Wednesday, even though she knows that Wednesday can protect herself. Everyone was shocked to learn about her werewolf form.

Floyd refers to her as Wolf Fish and Rook calls her Mademoiselle Loup.

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xxcharzysims4xx · 8 months

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SalemGrove Graveyard | No CC

Deep within Forgotten Hollow lies the quiet Graveyard of Salem-Grove. The grounds were erected many centuries ago and over the years have been well cared for and tended by groundkeeper Damus Ratchett, a strange old man who does not like people. Strange stories are told of secret meetings that take place there. Is it as quiet as it appears?

More Screenshots here. EA Gallery Link.

#sims 4 #sims 4 builds #sims 4 community #sims 4 graveyard #ts4 builds #ts4 forgotten hollow #sims 4 ghosts #sims 4 haunted #sims 4 gothic

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

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Back on my yan final girl fixation plus my monster reader one that never left-

Daina(final girl) and a reader who's like Jason in terms of being undead. Just like you, she can't seem to be killed, but in another way(plot armor), and sorta just comes your helper without your will

Daina, fishing you out of the lake: Did the campers try to weigh you down with rocks and drown you again? Don't worry I already slashed their tires.

Daina, watching as you rip a pitchfork from your chest and walk towards her and another person as they coward like you just pulled out a splinter:

"God they're so hot.. Probably shouldn't have said that out loud."

A group of surviors plotting how to kill you: alright, we've got the groundkeeper's gun. We should have enough bullets left to take them down

Daina: if it's clean through, it'll take them about two minutes to get up, five if it shatters. Hope they don't get too dirty during the bloodbath, I'm not washing clothes till this weekend

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #female yandere #Daina my oc #Yandere final girl

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runwiththerain · 2 months

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okay im gonna infodump about my esteemed fantasy school kids who sneak out to ride dragons at night to save the world wip

its only been started recently so yeah

their pronouns are subject to change

firstly theres elias (he/him) who i think is a cis guy gay and demi. letty and wren call him eli to tease him. hes the son of the king, only child, and is obnoxious at the start cause he believes hes better then everyone else but his friends teach him otherwise. he has crow wings and can fly as well as loves trinkets and fights with a katar. he has a decent few scars from practice fighting when he was a child cause hes most likely going to fight off in the war (well thats what is parents plan for him)

then there's letitia (she/fey) who everyone calls letty. aroace cis girl icon. she comes from a massive fuckin family (five or six siblings undecided) and has a scholarship to the school cause shes goddamn smart (her family couldnt pay for it). she loves fiddling with things and is a mechanic of sorts. shes a cyborg, all her family has cyborg implants, and has a cyborg brain and left arm and when she fights she runes lines of code to do what she wants to do

and finally theres wren (they/wind/forest). theyre the groundkeepers (who also looks after the schools dragons and is skeptical of their antics) child so they get free admission to the school. nonbinary pan fucker. is one with the forest. wind's a forest elf and has pointy ears and is good at archery. they love listening to hozier and they are really good with plants and herbology. their favourite colour is green and they play the harmonica

im prolly gonna design their dragons too

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt

#rwtr.txt #my wips #dragonriders

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kiras-monkey-bum-face · 1 month

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you guys still haven't read the groundkeepers secret? lame

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51200308/chapters/129370465 )

#yasmin khan #thasmin #thirteenth doctor #thirteen/yaz #genderfluid!13 #1890s fic #doctor who #stop talking helena #please give me validation and perhaps feedback but be very kind about it because my therapist is being hard on me enough rn

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star2fishmeg · 2 years

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Sore Eyes

Pairing: Murayama Yoshiki x reader

Warnings: making out ig, mild angst, fluff

Summary: y/n wishes she'd never gone to Oya that day, sending her into a spiral of doubt but Murayama always has a solution

Authors Note: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY WITH COLLEGE BUT I'VE "GRADUATED" (aka senior year for you folks in the USA) NOW!! This boy is too cute and there's not enough fics about him so here I am :) the last one got lots of positivity and it made me happy. Thank you so much!

Requested by @shiropatootie

_________________________________________

Cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him closer. "You're too cute sometimes."

"I think you'll find you're the cute one, especially in my hoodie." He smiled, placing his hands over yours. The pair of you sat on your bed, giggling and chatting after a long day of hanging out around Oya. Murayama was a tough guy, physically and mentally; he was forever getting stronger. But moments like these, just the two of you, were the most precious in a lifetime. Only you got to see this Murayama, his boyish smiles replaced with genuine ones where his eyes would wrinkle in the corners. He was your Yoshiki, your ball of energy, and you were his rock, his rational groundkeeper. Gently caressing your hands, he pulled you into his chest, leaning back into your sheets into a cuddle, legs tangled but comfortable in each other's grips.

"Shiki?" You whispered, feeling his chest rise and fall, heart pounding in his ribcage. He hummed, and the vibrations setting your skin alight. "We'll be together forever, right? I only ask because I'll never leave your side. I want you to know that. I'll always be waiting for you."

"Of course, you can't get rid of me that easy. Why would I leave you? I like your cuddles and company." His fingers tucked strands of your hair behind your ear and placed his lips to your forehead, giving a smile again.

"I love them too, but I don't know. Your girlfriend's gonna be really lucky. I'm scared I won't be needed anymore." The softening of your voice struck his heart like a truck. The realisation that he meant just as much to you as you did to him sent his heart into overdrive. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his forearm, his eyes boring into yours under him. Your ears burned at the closeness, and individual shaky breaths intertwined.

"Shut up; I will always need and want you. No one pars with you. You're the only one who can keep up and put up with me." He grumbled, his eye contact burning as he ran his tongue over his lips. But he was a coward. Instead of fulfilling his dreams, he buried his face in your nape, rolling you back onto his chest. Your heart pounded through your chest, your mind screaming to confess right there and then, maybe giving him the confidence he needed. It was too good to be true. Yoshiki Murayama, who you had once met by accident, was considering locking his lips with yours. But the reality turned the tables, and he was back under you, holding you as if his life depended on it. However, in the end, just him doing that made you happy. As long as he was in your life, you were satisfied.

______

Oya High School really was a dump; how the boys manoeuvred the place was impressive alone. Avoiding a couple of full-timers, you managed to slip your way through, hunting down Murayama to return his hoodie from the night before. You checked 'his' classroom first, but his members hadn't seen him, so you checked the gym; empty. Even the full-timers hadn't seen him, which was possibly the most shocking, seeing as they're on his tail most the time. He wasn't out on S.W.O.R.D duties; he would’ve somehow informed you, and he wouldn’t dare leave you in the dark about it either; he wasn’t like that with you.

Stumbling through who knows where outside, his voice echoed through the rubble. A grin tugging on your lips and eyes glistening, you gripped his hoodie tighter and carefully stepped through, almost jogging to jump into his arms again.

But you didn't. You halted just at the right moment so you could remain in the unseeable distance. Your face dropped, arms slacked, and you stood idle, glaring at the scene before you. You weren't angry. Just... shocked. You'd seen Oshiage around, not friends, neither enemies. Murayama, hands stuffed into his pockets, expressionless yet...bored? Yet seemingly curious as to why he'd been asked to meet in the first place, but not that interested. After all, he had places to be and valuable people to meet.

Oshiage shoved the strawberry-themed bag into his chest, her eyes burning into his.

"Use them." Murayama nochantly took the bag, pulling the elastic open and eyeing the contents. One by one he pulled out various small weapons from nunchucks to knuckle dusters, discarding them onto the dirt without batting an eye.

"No thanks." His fingers casually let the bag go, the rest of the contents spilling at his feet. He asserted his gaze back to her, shrugging.

"Could we...take a walk at least? Just us? Please, I want to talk to you about something." You respected her bravery, it's not everyday someone approaches Murayama, shoves a gift at him and asks to hang out. In fact, you were the only one who dared to do that willingly. Yoshiki, as usual, deeply sighed, throwing his head back and groaning.

"Fine. Quickly, I have somewhere to be." The girl smiled, linking her arm with his, seemingly ragdoll-like one. What a sight for sore eyes. Your heart fell to the floor and shattered, the remnants blending in with the rest of Oya's rubble. Your mind sank, believing irrational, contaminated thoughts of: Why would he ever kiss you? You weren't half as pretty as she was. The jumper he said was cute on you was just cotton and polyester at the end of the day. He probably liked her better anyway; she's closer to the gang life than you ever were, maybe she understands him better. The man you loved, shared intimate moments with, being asked out by a woman you didn't even know. Perhaps you were just his practice run. You had to be honest though, it didn't really look like Murayama knew her that well either, yet he made no effort to steer away. You couldn't bear to continue watching, which might be a later regret, but in the moment, it just wasn't something you could handle after the previous night.

Leaving his hoodie neatly folded in his classroom, you placed the little note on top, giving his members smiles as you left and ran home, heart completely twisted and obliterated. It was stupid really, getting upset over your best friend potentially liking some other girl. And walking home alone didn't make it any better, especially since it was the same route home you always walked with him, attached at the him, linked at the arms. To say the sight burned was an understatement.

______

You went to bed early after that, and by early meant 9pm. You couldn't bring yourself to have dinner, you just wanted to get the image of earlier out of your head. In hindsight, you realised you should have stayed longer to know what actually happened instead of taking off, but the emotion just swept through you. Panicked knocks on your front door echoed through your home. You didn't know what time it was, but it was dark outside so whoever it was at your door was desperate. You tried burying your head further into your sheets to block it out, but you got up anyway to keep them quiet. Wiping your eyes and padding to the door, you brought your eye to the peephole, not really thinking about visibility.

Sighing, you pulled the door open, "Don't you have somewhere to be?" You sniffed, half-asleep. He stood there, eye wide, panting and staring with glossed eyes. He stepped closer, slowing bringing his hands up to your cheeks. The rough pads of his thumbs wiped the remaining tears away slowly, gently cupping your cheeks as he had previously. Your words didn't work, everytime you tried to speak, nothing came out but a quiver of your lips. His gaze just burned into you. Murayama hadn't a clue what was wrong, he just didn't want to see you cry and your note to him earlier rattled through his spine;

If you still need me, I will always be here, Shiki.

Love, Y/n

"Y/n," his tone wasn't playful, it was low and raspy, "Where were you? You left my hoodie behind. You know you can keep it, it's yours too." Standing in a painful silence, you both walked further into the hallway, Yoshiki closing the door behind him, pulling you into an embrace. His clothes were crisp cold, but warmed when your eyes broke seal and your cries penetrated his ears. Running his fingers through your hair, his other hand on the curve of your back, he whispered reassurances in your ear, placing small kisses to your head.

"Baby, let's go to bed." Even his whispers were gravelly. You nodded as he held you tight and carried you to your room, in which his natural scent still lingered. Once he'd ensured he'd tucked you in securely, his clothes scattered to the floor and the warmth of his skin against yours felt as if everything had been amended. You missed it, you hoped that only you would enjoy this. Taking a deep breath and running off adrenaline, you snuggled closer, resting your head on his chest, hand following pursuit to feel his skin once again.

"I don't like her, by the way." He mumbled, his hands wandering over the curves of your torso, "We walked but I told her that I didn't feel the same. I meant what I said before, you're all I need." You caught his gaze in the dark, he was playful, but genuine. Your fingertips trailed slowly up his chest to his jaw, his breath hitching under the tingling sensation of your touch. He tilted his head closer to yours, lips close enough to feel the heat of each other's breaths.

"Prove it, Shiki." You whispered, lips ghosting against his own. He wasn't hesitant to react, his lips were chapped yet enticingly warm, moving slow yet early with yours in a soft synchronisation. You parted your mouth slowly, tongues glossing and swirling into each other as his groans of desperation spoke for him. Murayama was the last person you expected to be vocal, he always seemed like the quiet, dominant type to you. While he was dominant, sliding above you, trapping you to the mattress; he was also shamless in his volume. Your cheeks tinted red, mind slipping into escalated scenarios of what would happen if you were to accidentally move your knee slightly towards you, how vocal would he be then? Pulling away to your dismay, Yoshiki buried his face into your shoulder, panting just as heavy as you. Your fingers combed through his curls gently, other arm wrapping around his naked back, drawing patterns into his skin.

"You have no idea-" He breathed, "How long I've been wanting to do that."

"Please, don't hold back anymore." Your lips tugged into a small smile, his rough hands kneading the flesh on your chest and hip.

"If you say so, baby."

______

@sleepingprinceoflucis (I remembered you recently got into High&Low and thought of you)

#high&low #murayama x reader #murayama x y/n #murayama yoshiki #murayama yoshiki x reader #highandlow #yuki yamada #high&low oneshot #high&low x reader

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