softer to the touch (i). | ꒰ diluc ragnvindr ╲ concept - short story ꒱
⪩ ☁︎．pairing: diluc ragnvindr × femme!reader (second pov).
⪩ ☁︎．scenario: mondtstadt.
⪩ ☁︎．warning: null. sfw. heavily implied romance.
⪩ ☁︎．note (i): this fic is pretty much self-indulgent, therefore, very much of a self - insert.
യ．about the reader:
you're a very affectionate person. your aren’t afraid to show that you are the one who’s going to make the first move in doing favors/lending a hand/offering a gift. whether it was with purpose or not, you don’t let your affectionate side be overshadowed with embarrassment. after all, you’re quite used to giving out endearment.
you are also quite a little bit frond of skinship. there is not a day where you cannot give hugs to your favorite people in the whole wide world.
kaeya? you best friend. but you do not follow his drinking habits, so hugs came in a sober mindset.
klee? she’s your semi-adopted child and you aren’t that afraid of her explosives. besides, she really loves it and begs on the daily for hugs at least ten times a day.
lisa? she’s a bit hesitant… she’s not that big of affection herself, but she allows an occasional squeeze. it has to end as soon as it started, though.
amber? like klee, you two are like sworn sisters to give hugs to each other at any time of the day. therefor, she, klee, and you formed a self-made trio of huggers, despite not you being a part of the knights. (kaeya wanted to join, too, but he’s a guy, so he’s off-limits; jokingly).
യ．about/to diluc ragnvindr:
to say diluc ragnvindr is capable of showing any signs of fondness would take a liar like kaeya to make it sound legitimate. after all, he may be the owner of the biggest winery across mondt... he may the one of the dignified young man in the region... he may be the ‘calm, unperturbed, almost princely’ gentleman... he may the most dedicated and region-serving anti-hero persona... but he’s not expressive of any sentiment - friendly or intimately. as far as anyone is concerned, everyone in mondt could agree that diluc is not demonstrative when it comes to showcasing love. most of them assume he prefers as little to none at all.
but... they aren’t completely right about their so-called ‘truth’.
if anything... it’s diluc who is the most touch-starved individual that ever existed in the region of mondt. but no one knows about this at all. they had no idea that the diluc they’ve known is just part of the diluc who actually has another side.
but where did the ‘other side’ came from?
it came from the day he met you.
യ．your backstory/story (i):
it was when you were a new resident in mondt. you just transferred from your home region, and moved in to mondt to live a fresher, newer life. things back at home were great, but you felt there is a world that awaits you outside the walls and borders of your home region... so you packed up your bags and embarked on an adventure that might and could change your life for the better (or for the worse). either way, you are more than ready to see the bigger world underneath your feet, in front of your eyes, and within your grasp.
when you reached mondt, you were gleefully welcomed by its archon, the adorable singing bard named venti. he was a mischievous lad, but you grew fond of him the moment he started singing hymns and odes about mondt. it sounds as if he was enchanting you to pick mondt as your finally place for home... and that there’s no other home for you but mondt and only mondt.
to say he succeeded was an understatement... admittedly, as he toured you across town, across the nearby forests, across wonderful rolling hills, across magnificent and historic ruins of the region, you immediately fell in love. with one sight to another, you concluded undoubtedly that mondt is the region your heart has been desiring.
the moment you moved in and told venti you’re staying a forever in mondt, he was ecstatic. to commemorate, he brought you to a prominent winery to make you feel officially welcomed in your new home.
when you both arrived, the first person who greeted you was a blue-haired, eye-patched, charming and devilish cavalry captain named kaeya alberich.
venti quickly stepped in and introduced you to him and you two immediately became fast friends. kaeya quickly warmed up to you and venti was once again delighted that you finally have another friend... this time, the popular blue liar. (apologies, the author means the popular blue poppy-peacock).
when you entered the tavern, you immediately felt like you’re at home. you’re not speaking as if you live in a tavern. what you simply mean with the sentiment is that the tavern gives off vibes as if you were staying in a good home...
maybe it has to do with the warmth that was radiating off the walls of the tavern. maybe it has something to do with the laughter and jeering shared among the drinkers. maybe it was something to do with the shared fellowship among the customers with one another. well, whatever you’re reason is, you shared your sentiment with kaeya and he looked elated that this is what you think of “dawn winery”, the most popular and distinguished tavern all across mondt.
(he didn’t tell you he also owned it, since he doesn’t want to intimidate, although, you don’t seem easily unnerved).
he and venti led you the counter-table, where kaeya himself usually sits.
“what do you want to try (y/n)? oh, where are my manners... i’ll order one for you since you’re a new resident here,“ kaeya said.
“don’t be ridiculous,” venti piped up, his tinkling laughter resonating. “let (y/n) order for themselves.”
“but they have no idea what the winery serves,” kaeya reasoned.
“oh, i think i know what to do,” you said. you saw a little bell at the corner of the long table. you reached out for it and with your instincts, you rang for it, whilst exclaiming, “hello!“
kaeya and venti was a little taken aback by your show of boldness. but they didn’t let it get in the way and joined it.
venti kindly asked for the bell and he rang it as if he was playing a tune with it. it was a for a while until he realized the bell actually cannot hold the tune. that’s when kaeya asked for his turn. to be honest, from the very first minute you saw kaeya, you felt as if he’s a bad news... a wholesome bad news, nonetheless. so you anticipated for his move.
he didn’t attempt to do what venti had done. he just rang the bell as if he was an impatient hotel customer ringing profusely at the counter.
you were giggling behind your palm. you didn’t try to stop kaeya at all. venti looked like he wanted kaeya to stop, but like you, he found amusement in his works, though he didn’t openly encouraged him.
it was only a matter of time until a black coat appeared in front of you.
when kaeya immediately stopped at the mysterious presence, you looked up yourself. and saw the face of diluc ragnvindr glaring down at the likes of you... or at the likes of kaeya.
⪩ ☁︎．note (ii): republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
pudding? pudding. | ꒰ richard de vulpian ╲ short story ꒱
⪩ ☁︎．pairing: richard de vulpian × femme!reader (third pov).
⪩ ☁︎．scenario: vulpian household.
⪩ ☁︎．warning: null. sfw. heavily implied romance.
⠀⠀(y/n) seemed to be reluctant. as much as she was a close friend of seigi, she wouldn’t dare believe he would put this much trust to her.
⠀⠀apparently, her raven-haired friend was catching up with the rapid orders the customers had reserved and his boss, richard de vulpian, was instructed to further stay back home as he just recovered from a nasty cold.
⠀⠀“you’ll be just giving him pudding,” seigi reassured her on the phone. by then, (y/n) was already inside the de vulpian household because she was a regular there, courtesy of her frequent visitations with seigi. furthermore, she’s the kitchen’s best friend. “besides, you already made it.”
⠀⠀“yes, but that was because you were around to share it with me. and mr-”
⠀⠀“richard. come on, (y/n). you’ve been acquainted with him already and he even permitted you to address him by his given name.”
⠀⠀she sighed, tapping her fingers on the cold, marble counter in the kitchen. seigi had a point, but still. why would a common person like her was allowed to address someone whose stature can be comparable to a god?
⠀⠀“i will drop by and give him pudding. but, please, as much as it bothers you, i would still address him formally.” (y/n) dropped the call. pocketing her phone, you carried the plate of pudding to the study room. where else the handsome jeweler might be?
⠀⠀(y/n) padded down the long, elegant hall. it was decorated with vases filled with exotic flowers and marvelous paintings hanging on the walls. she was too mesmerized to realize she has finally reach her destination. the only indication she was there was when richard opened the door.
⠀⠀(y/n) flinched and nearly drop the plate.
⠀⠀heavens!, she thought. a heart attack was almost sufficient!
“mr de vulpian!” (y/n) stammered as she faced the dashing blond gentleman. he always have that effect on her - to remain stand still and breathless at the sight of him.
⠀⠀recognizing the female, the reserved man etched a smile on his lips. if he knew better, he could have been expecting a rolling gem. he greeted, “hello, (y/n). fancy seeing you here.”
⠀⠀(y/n)’s hands were quaking, too astonished to register what he said for a few moments.
⠀⠀it was like this for a few silent moments - a pair of striking azure eyes staring down at a gleaming pair of (e/c) orbs, unblinking; no words were uttered because of the uncertainty in the air; a pair of hands firmly dropped on the sides, another pair invisibly quaking under the harmless scrutiny of the man.
⠀⠀the piercing intensity of the gaze made (y/n) squeamish and squirmish internally that she decided to look at another piece of interest - the pudding on the china plate.
richard followed her switched gaze.
⠀⠀“pudding?” he calmly inquired.
⠀⠀“pudding,” (y/n) replied, affirming his guess.
⠀⠀he opened the door wider and gestured for the (h/c) beauty to come inside. he beckoned, “bring it with you. i’ll have it while i study.”
⠀⠀(y/n) had always knows richard has a vigor to study foreign languages and this was for him to easily communicate with his customers from all across the globe. this made him an efficient businessman in his line of successful career.
⠀⠀(y/n) nodded and followed him swiftly. he sat down on the chair before a small, round table. it can fit two people who planned to dine on it. she took the other chair and placed the sweet treat before him.
⠀⠀“thank you,” the jeweler smiled. he took the fork and sliced a piece of it. raising the fork to his lips, he bit on the pudding and ate it.
⠀⠀(y/n) was anxious of what he thought about the pudding she made. of course, she’s a very decent chef and baker. she had to be since she’s opted to live independently from her parents back in the province. working in the city was hard, but taking care of herself alone was harder. (well, she had a support system of friends but she decided it’s best if she provide for herself.)
⠀⠀the lovely sweetness of pudding exploded in richard’s mouth and it caught him off-guard. he had never tasted such a heavenlier pudding! it was just the right amount of sugar and creaminess mashed together in one. when it traveled down his throat - delightful! he felt his eyes brightened up and gleam even brighter than the precious gems. his gentle smile turned child-like and mirthful as he finished the first bite.
⠀⠀“where have you gotten this pudding, (y/n)?” even your name sounded lovelier-sweeter when he addressed you! “this tastes like heaven itself.”
⠀⠀the praise made (y/n) flustered. why wouldn’t it? it came from the world most-renowned jeweler and it’s like having a king complimenting a common folk. well, at least to her, anyways.
⠀⠀“well,” the girl said. “i made it.” she didn’t say it so with much enthusiasm. instead, she hunched her shoulders and tore her eyes away from the pudding and the jeweler - a turning point of being flustered, indeed.
⠀⠀to richard, her reaction was a darling. he said, “i love it, (y/n). tell me, if i ate this all up, can i have more?”
⠀⠀the request sounded like a child asking for more candy! but, of course, how could (y/n) refuse? besides, he liked it- no, he loved it.
⠀⠀(y/n) answered, “of course, mr de vulpian. you can have the whole pan.” she joshed with the last line, seeing that the atmosphere lightened.
⠀⠀as reserved as he was, richard face turned even sweeter to look at - a gentle, beaming smile at (y/n) and a dreamy-euphoric look in his eyes. as if he was in love!
⠀⠀no, no, no. certainly not. you’re getting ahead of yourself, (y/n), she chided as she maintained the gaze with her own eyes. admittedly, those piercing blue eyes made it impossible for her look away, despite badly wanting to look at something else that won’t cause her heart to flip or her stomach to squirm.
⠀⠀“that’s what i like to hear,” he finally said. he finished the plate at once, which didn’t surprise (y/n) at all. instead, she fondly gazed at him. of course, she fully knew his attention would be onto the pudding. when he finished, (y/n) immediately grabbed ahold of the plate.
⠀⠀she said, “i’ll get you some more.” honestly, she wasn’t sure to give him a plate or the whole pan of pudding. but she decided to be respectful and hand him a plate or two.
⠀⠀he nodded. but as she stood, he added, “make it two, please.”
⠀⠀figuring it would be an extra plate for him to consume, (y/n) nodded and left promptly. once she’s out of the door, she breathed a sigh of relief.
⠀⠀little did she knew, the reserved jeweler can be cunning in his own rights. of course, it wasn’t his plan in the first place, but he decided it’s about time he ought to listen to seigi.
⠀⠀this little game has to be done and be over with.
⠀⠀he has one last gem to cut and its his and hers.
⪩ ☁︎．note: republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
mikazuki will definitely wear a pink apron with the saying “kiss the cook” over his suit-and-tie when he’s cooking dinner after a long day of work. or else, he would be silently jamming to old tunes from a radio (like, an actual radio, not from his phone).
whenever your work holds you back in the office, you often come home late than your husband at home. at your return, you find him standing him in the doorway and say, “okaeri.” he smiles down at you, wearing his apron and all. there’s nothing else you would rather be than in his arms. so you advanced forward and wordlessly embrace him. it’s what you needed right now.
every morning when he wakes up, he never fails to give your scrunching forehead a feathery kiss. you are sleeping and probably too tired to care, but you pretty much appreciate the little warmth on your head. for moments that followed, you would whine and aimlessly waves your hand a little, making mikazuki chuckle at you.
“mikazuki,” you whine.
“honey, i am here the whole time. i didn’t get off the bed,” mikazuki says softly, saying in your hair.
“good…” you say in your adorable sleepy voice. “because i want to call in sick.”
mikazuki chuckles. he would never ever get tired of your small, morning antics that often gets into small inconveniences in his work. luckily, he was well-loved so much that he just gets away with it.
mikazuki is oftentimes the one that helps get you into bed. despite working hard hours in the office, mikazuki has some, good extra stamina within him to keep functioning in the night even though he’s tired himself. when you come home, you are already ready to hit the hay and get the most out of your night with beauty sleep. mikazuki will set you up with a small dinner and, at your request, feed you himself because sometimes you’re already nodding your head off in sleepiness. too tired to move, mikazuki would bath you along with him in the tub. after that, he dresses you, then himself, and off to bed you both go.
you tuck yourself in his arms, being the little spoon you are. you whine cutely, yearning for some warmth and mikazuki gladly gives it to you by wrapping his arms tight around your waist.
“sleep now, anata… the moon is up to lull us…” mikazuki mumbled in your hair.
simply, you would exhale and rest peacefully then, content than you are nowhere else but in his loving embrace in the deep of the night.
mikazuki often plays some classics on the stereo and would ask for your hand to join him in a dance. it just happens it always occurs in a random time of the day whenever you two have found time to be together in your house/apartment.
mikazuki: come on, anata. dance with me.
you: but, mikazuki… rolls your eyes you know what? you’re so cheesy~!
mikazuki: cheesy or not cheesy, join me.
he wouldn’t wait for your reply and would just pull you into him. he interlaces his fingers around yours and wounds one hand on your waist. he makes sure your distance is close to him and that your head is close to his heart. following his initiative, you lean your head to his chest and steadily hear his beating heart. at the same time, you can feel his warmth and that’s what makes you draw closer to him.
when you’re properly positioned, mikazuki shuffled softly first. he moved his feet back; you followed. he swayed you to one side; you sided with him. while you were waltzing like you’re both love-drawn, you couldn’t help but gaze lovingly in his blue-gold irises. you are too mesmerized to look away from him and he was, too, in yours.
both of you are drowned into each other’s presence and you don’t want this to ever end.
⪩ ☁︎．note: republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
⪩ ☁︎．pairing: daisuke × cherloque (oc).
⪩ ☁︎．scenario: at a function in scotland.
⪩ ☁︎．warning: innuendos; half-sfw, half-nsfw; a little bit of teasing.
⠀⠀he can't seem to take his mind off of her.
⠀⠀he knew that she was under the british demand to commit espionage, but he never anticipated she would go this far.
⠀⠀haru whistled lowly where only he and his companion could only hear. he whispered to no one in particular but to daisuke, saying, ❛ our miss holmes looks pretty tonight. ❜
⠀⠀oh, lord ... to daisuke, she looked more than just 'pretty'.
⠀⠀cher wore the england colors in her costume - pure, white, long, sleeveless gown with a wide slit that reached halfway up her hips; dazzling ruby earrings; bold and bright sapphire necklace. her hair was styled in chignon and adorned with some snow calla lilies in the crevices.
⠀⠀'god, if you're trying to commit murder, do it where no one could witness my humiliating tragedy,' daisuke thought, trying his all hardest and best to look listless, uninterested, and indifferent. his piercing eyes of storm were everywhere but not on cher. never on cher for the second time from the moment she entered.
⠀⠀after all, one glance was enough to know that she had arrived.
⠀⠀right?
⠀⠀haru snickered, but since they were among wealthy, well-mannered, and classy delegates, he did it so discreetly with a 'polite' cough behind his hand. he knew how much daisuke was trying to keep his thoughts in check, seeing that there was something bigger to worry about other than the stylish, amorous fashion cher was wearing.
⠀⠀but you can let someone fry the bigger fish, correct?
⠀⠀❛ you came early. ❜
⠀⠀the prominent english drawl made daisuke's skin crept with goosebumps. they hadn't seen each for only two weeks (cher went to the country with her father, sherlock; daisuke went back to japan to finish what's left in the bowl of cases the police department failed to clean).
⠀⠀haru eagerly approached the englishwoman, his hand raised to shake her hand. (he taught himself on how to be polite in the western fashion). he had a smile on his face and said, ❛ nice to see you again, miss holmes.❜ he shook her hand warmly and friendly. ❛ and i'm sure daisuke does, too. ❜
⠀⠀daisuke didn't fully turn to her, but he did gave her a side glance.
⠀⠀wrong. move.
⠀⠀since cher was shorter than him (almost more than a foot, to be precise), he had to look down to meet the level of her eyes. no one warned him he would get to meet the sight of her cleavage, too.
⠀⠀fate was being too cruel tonight. too, too, too cruel; too, too, too wicked.
⠀⠀but call it ... nature. habit. normalcy.
⠀⠀cher brushed off daisuke's lingering half-glance with eloquent and grace by saying, ❛ oh, i'm sure he is. ❜ she cued her english charm, as if there was a limelight suddenly aimed at her, with a half-smile, half-lidded eyes.
⠀⠀ah, the english evelyn nesbit ... only she is a detective undercover, in the espionage scenery, not in the modeling industry of any sorts.
⠀⠀❛ hello, hello detective kambe, ❜ cher addressed. ❛ i hope we reconvene our partnership when the flower is unsealed. ❜
haru took notice of the code words and replied, ❛ yes, of course. i shall be of good assistance to capture the person under investigation. ❜ he was referring to the viscountess, of course. the treacherous of a viscountess named mortencia eponine of edinburgh.
⠀⠀daisuke, however ... his mind steered to the wrong direction and thought of something else other than unearthing the poisonous truth about the crumbling intra-system of the scottish monarchy and aristocracy. his mind, to be precise, steered to the direction of where he could privately be with the picturesque englishwoman - alone in a salacious scenario where he would be the one to unseal a certain calla's flower.
⠀⠀❛ thank you, as well, haru, ❜ cher said courteously. ❛ and, again ... call me 'cher'. we are friends, not acquaintances. ❜ haru laughed and complied, nodding his head.
⠀⠀daisuke snapped himself out of the terrifying trance. how long had he been in the train of his own filthy thoughts?
⠀⠀there was a finger that lifted his chin up. henceforth, he looked down again to see who did that.
⠀⠀he didn't see a holmes.
⠀⠀❛ eyes up there, ❜ cher poked his nose with her gloved finger. ❛ but mind down here. ❜
⠀⠀'cheeky,' daisuke thought.
⠀⠀before he knew it, she was gone, flouncing her way to the middle of the elite crowd.
⠀⠀he didn't see a holmes. no, he really didn't. a holmes would have acted otherwise.
⠀⠀stoic. stone. subtle. cold. careful. critical. these are the traits a holmes would have.
⠀⠀he saw an adler instead.
⠀⠀an expert charmer and flirt that could easily unwedge tight-knit person. a little, attractive, and fleeting robin who is light on her feet, quick with her twisted & tricky wits. mettlesome lips, gritty mind - she was branded to advance like a prowling feline.
⠀⠀and damn ... would that be the downfall of the impenetrable daisuke kambe.
⪩ ☁︎．note: republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
⪩ ☁︎．pairing: daisuke × cherloque (oc).
⪩ ☁︎．scenario: in the dead of the night in 221b baker street, london; in their shared apartment for eight months, give or take.
⪩ ☁︎．warning: none; completely sfw; heavy, heavy fluff.
⪩ ☁︎．note (i): if you sensed any hamilton references, you could tell where i have been; this had been in my drafts for literally three days then episode four dropped-
⠀⠀her is a host unto herself. as long as she can hold a case file, and a pen and paper, she's a damn threat.
⠀⠀to herself.
⠀⠀she works non-stop; writing day and night, studying day and night, going after the villains day and night with every opportunity she saw. however, even if she's not neck deep in her investigatory works, she'll pop by in charities and social events not (just) to boost her popularity, but also to boost her presence among the citizens of england or of britain, in general.
⠀⠀her strenuous work ethics was the one that brought her to her knees and humble herself to follow the doctor's orders: to rest regularly, to eat regularly, to relax more than usual, to work less than usual — basic simple self-care that she seldom does to her own self.
⠀⠀daisuke noticed that already.
⠀⠀and it's getting on his nerves. strangely.
⠀⠀he has been with haru kato for more than two years, and yet, he was only being nerved by a petite englishwoman who took up a lot after her own father.
⠀⠀he knew it ran in the blood — the frigid blood of a holmes kin that knew no boundaries in the profession of consultant detective.
⠀⠀it seemed so foreign to him still - the duality of cherloque amelie soleil holmes.
⠀⠀at one profile, she seemed to show the facade of a flirty and flighty adler - charming robin who knew how to spread her wings and fly in the skies filled with attractive parasites and pests of the british society. she just had a way with words that could be wither seductive, persuasive, and alluring. she also seemed to have an upper hand in every conversation where she's included. she leaves no stray comment and always made sure her words are pointed and sharp in any educated topic. a true mark as the daughter of a dominatrix.
⠀⠀on the other profile... she's just as controlled, restrained, and unexpressive as a holmes. this kind of a cher conveyed the most inhumane face of all, most especially when a case keeps on pulling her to be involved. there's not time for rest, eating, or leisure. most of her time were always spent sitting on the chair, in front of her father's worn desk; flipping the pages of multiple case files; reviewing similar scenarios that and differentiating multiple changes that could have affected the current motion of the recent crime. she seeked no comfort nor encouragement but only immense silence and centered focus on the task at hand. a true symbol as the kin of a renowned criminologist.
⠀⠀her duality - despite their fellowship for the past eight months - still fazed daisuke. but he never had the heart to voice it out. he's never the type to express himself in a way that could make people think he's an inferior to a certain woman's little world.
⠀⠀a world that seemed to be non-stop.
⠀⠀it was in the middle of a dead night, but the two individuals in 221b baker street were still awake - the other one was diligently working in the living room/study, the other one was looking from the doorframe of the guest bedroom. neither one could sleep not could approach each other.
⠀⠀the former was untoucable; the latter was hesitating for once in his life.
⠀⠀suddenly... there was a vibration in his pajama pocket. daisuke quickly shuffled his back and retrieved his phone, seeing it's a call from mourgane, cher's cousin and the current president of england's top most security association for criminologists.
⠀⠀❛ good evening, ❜ daisuke greeted. ❛ is there something the matter? ❜
⠀⠀❛ an associate passed by the apartment an hour ago, and when he passed by it again three minutes earlier, he informed me that the lights seemed not to go out. may i boldly assume that cher is still awake? ❜
⠀⠀❛ yes. ❜ daisuke couldn't tell a lie. it was the truth, after all. was there something he missed with the habit?
⠀⠀mourgane sighed on the other line. it was a heavy, distressed one as if she was asking if the toddler was being naughty and she was. mourgane said, ❛ please tell her to go to bed right this instant. i could tell this had been going for a few days behind your back. ❜
⠀⠀daisuke remained quiet. now that the cousin gave him direct orders, it seemed he really needed to step up and bring it upon himself to put cher to bed.
⠀⠀❛ is it really my responsibility? ❜ but, of course, he's not just gonna do that directly. after all, it's her own life, not his.
⠀⠀❛ your partner is your responsibility, mr kambe, ❜ mourgane retaliated coolly. ❛ cher, no matter was trait she's possessing at the very moment, is at your disposal. whatever reason we may have, you have the ball in your court and cher, per our agreement for the sake of the japanese partnership and personal relationship gain, have no choice but to follow you. ❜ she exhaled as if she was proud of her declaration. ❛ are we clear on that? ❜
⠀⠀ ❛ ... ❜
⠀⠀❛ mr kambe. ❜
⠀⠀❛ yes. ❜
⠀⠀mourgane chuckled. she added, ❛ you don't need to be afraid of cher. she may be flighty and feisty ... easily aggravated ... and snappy. but, at some point, she actually needed someone to remind her that she's not inhumane. i am relying on you. ❜ there was a distant knocking heard on the other line. ❛ i have a late night visitor and i will leave my cousin in your capable hands. ❜
⠀⠀daisuke nodded slowly. like before he said, "yes."
⠀⠀❛ a little note of warning, ❜ mourgane piped up. "do not give her narcotics. you will pay with your life if you do."
⠀⠀the line went dead.
⠀⠀and daisuke could still hear the prominent flipping of pages.
⠀⠀he cannot believe he was thrusted in this situation. but his actions seemed to have their own consequences and he needed suffer for them.
⠀⠀he padded out of the guest bedroom and went in the living room vicinity where cher was working diligently as ever.
⠀⠀❛ cher, ❜ daisuke said. ❛ go back to bed. ❜
⠀⠀cher seemed to turn the other cheek, pretending not to hear him. her fingers... they were holding the pen as if her life depended on it. she kept on writing, scribbling, scrawling, jotting down whatever thoughts that raced down in her mind - mostly messy scenarios that were squelching inside her overworked brain.
⠀⠀she's writing non-stop. she's reading non-stop. she's working non-stop.
⠀⠀"cherloque." daisuke tried again. "i said go back-"
⠀⠀"i heard what you said and i don't want to," cher suddenly snapped, blowing him off in the same language (with slight informality).
⠀⠀daisuke began to wonder how the hell jordan was able to put up with this act with almost every night of her life in 221b baker street.
⠀⠀'but direct orders from miss holmes mourgane cannot be winged,' daisuke thought, reaffirming himself.
⠀⠀daisuke, decidedly, took 10 paces forward and stood beside cher's chair. he clasped one hand on her shoulder and, once again, addressed her, saying (with his learned english accent), ❛ love. ❜
⠀⠀it was as if by magic cher suddenly stopped writing, her hand frozen suddenly into place, her body stiffening.
⠀⠀daisuke leaned down to her body's height and whispered, "go back to bed. now."
⠀⠀cher didn't say anything. but she did shook her head slowly in response.
⠀⠀'it's either i'm responsible for you or your cousin and my department will responsible for my execution,' daisuke thought, slightly irritated. 'i value my life.'
⠀⠀❛ you're coming to bed right now. ❜
⠀⠀daisuke looped one arm below her knees, the other supporting her back; carrying her in a bridal style. cher exclaimed, dropping her pen on the desk. cher was suprised she's suddenly lifted like that without any warning. her face suddenly blossomed a full shade of pink as her arms instinctively wounded themselves around daisuke's neck. her hair flounced up, but because she put it in a really, really, really loose ponytail, it suddenly let loose by itself and her hair brown hair cascaded down.
⠀⠀❛ w-wait! daisuke! ❜
⠀⠀❛ no. direct orders from your cousin. ❜
⠀⠀❛ she can't tell you what to do! ❜
⠀⠀❛ well, she reminded me you are at my disposal. ❜ daisuke looked at her directly with firmness in his gaze, as if scrutinizing her. ❛ love. ❜
⠀⠀cher hunched her shoulders as she crossed her arms, slightly pouting. a total childish move that opposed her holmes ethics.
⠀⠀she suddenly turned kind of cute.
⠀⠀❛ daisuke... ❜
⠀⠀was she actually whining? he couldn't be sure.
⠀⠀❛ my room is in the other way. ❜
⠀⠀her complaint was turned away, just like how she turned her other cheek earlier, because he entered in the guest bedroom where he was residing. without sharing another word, he plopped cher down in the middle of the bed and immediately tucked her in. he didn't give her any chance to speak her mind.
⠀⠀the night continued on and in the wee morning... someone entered the apartment.
⠀⠀❛ there. ❜ after tucking her in, daisuke followed suit, lying down next to her but not close enough for skin contact. ❛ now sleep. ❜
⠀⠀it was erebos. he turned to the direction of cher's bedroom. it was vacant.
⠀⠀he took the other way and entered the japanese police's room.
⠀⠀and there he was - spooning the spent englishwoman in his arms. it was as if he was keeping her warm as possible or keeping her in her damn place, knowing how the night went.
⠀⠀❛ i'll be out here, ❜ erebos whispered and exited, making himself feel at home in the living room. "goddamn it, haru, you're right. but we're dealing with idiots in denial, not with detectives in love."
⪩ ☁︎．note (ii): republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
burn out. sleep in. | ꒰ daisuke kambe ╲ short story ꒱
⪩ ☁︎．pairing: daisuke × cherloque (oc).
⪩ ☁︎．scenario: in daisuke's mansion.
⪩ ☁︎．warning: fluffity fluffing fluffy fluff; don't ask how many cups of coffee i had today.
there's nothing impresses cher more than strict and functional work ethics.
while hers were next to inhumane possibilities, she certainly appreciate a good line of virtues while doing the tasks in hand.
today was the day she was impressed with daisuke's ethics.
it was evident by the way how daisuke was sprawling across his desk. his arms were across the surface, plastering all the messy documents down. his face was straight pasted down on the surface as well. his hair looked so ruffled and messy and tousled, as if he hadn't brushed his hair at all since his bath. although he was just wearing his casual clothes of white, dress shirt and black vest, when cher peeked down, they were rumpled and crinkled. in his right hand was a ballpoint pen that kept inking a document. in his left hand was a correction tape.
'geez,' cher thought, chuckling to herself. 'when i said he can help me lessen the workload, i didn't mean you should literally obliterate by yourself, daisuke.'
it was oddly comedic. and it brought pride and satisfaction cher. although, she had to be honest, it kinda worried as well because she actually saw what was it like being wiped out from work.
'is he drooling or...?,' cher wondered. she bent down on daisuke's level and slightly tilted his head. the cop suddenly murmured something, which caught cher almost off-guard. luckily, he didn't wake up, and he just kept on slumbering. 'oh,' cher thought. 'he's actually drooling.'
cher took out her handkerchief and dabbed his lips dry. she swore to god, she's finidng him endearing at the moment.
the daisuke she usually saw was insensitive, thick-skinned, and thoughtless. it just irritated her, to be honest, when she's facing someone who seemed to be just like her in some aspects. while she did mirror his traits sometimes, she knew there were boundaries between on how far they could be with their negative traits. plus, nothing infuriates her more when daisuke is manifesting his galling personality.
but, right now?
she seemed to fond of this kind of daisuke. a daisuke that seemed to have his whole guard down; a daisuke that seemed to have actually expressing good work habits for once; a daisuke that seemed to be drooling over documents cutely like a baby.
'you can actually be a dork sometimes,' cher mentally commented as she puts daisuke's head down.
"i see daisuke-sama wiped himself out."
"hello, suzue-san." cher smiled at the kambe relative. "yeah, i think he had." cher softly patted his head.
suzue rolled a cart of tea kettle, teacups, and tea cups towards the desk, glancing over daisuke. she suddenly said, "you influenced him."
"did i?"
"yeah," suzue replied, pouring a cup for cher. "ever since eight months ago, i guess." the petite japanese woman handed the englishwoman the tea.
cher laughed as she accepted the cup. she said, "i didn't know."
"well... now you do. besides, i think he also took up your 'burn out, sleep in' habit."
cher covered her lips as she laughed even more. she said, "oh, god, i'm so sorry, suzue-san. i didn't really mean it, i promise."
perhaps some supernatural jolted him awake because daisuke suddenly sat up straight. it's almost like he woke up from a nightmare, to be honest. after all, his sudden jerky movements startled cher and suzue.
"daisuke-sama!"
"daisuke?!"
but maybe the effects of it didn't last long because daisuke suddenly felt the sleepy spell come back to him a flash. his body swayed, however, to his side, directly at cher. in shock, cher put down the teacup as soon as she can on the desk as she caught daisuke's dropping head in her hands.
"daisuke!" cher exclaimed, holding the cop's head in her palms while laughing at his accidental antic. "come on... get up now! up, up!"
"can't," daisuke said monotonously. "too lazy..." he took a deep, relaxing inhale. then he continued, "soft hands..."
if someone had punch-drunked daisuke, the last two words he said should be valid and verifiable, but he wasn't, he isn't. the sleepy spell must've been strong for daisuke to handle because it seemed he had a loose mouth now, which only resulted for cher to find him even more amusing and comical.
"i'm serious, though," cher said as she put daisuke's head back down on the surface. "you're going to get a stiff neck after you're done taking your unprecendented nap."
"don't care," daisuke mumbled.
"doesn't that sound familiar?" suzue teasingly asked as she retrieved the teacup cher used.
cher flustered suddenly and said to suzue, embarrassingly, "shut up."
"if you stop influencing daisuke-sama."
"shut up both of you."
in the few moments that went quick, suzue left without the cart and cher went over the couch to grab a quilt-blanket which she draped across daisuke's back. she tucked the blanket in the most comfortable way for daisuke.
little did cher knew, daisuke was already awake and had no plans of sleeping again. but knowing the fact that cher was working with the blanket, he decided to pretend like he was still sleeping.
"you're actually adorable when you drool, daisuke," cher said to no one in particular. "you look like a baby that i would take in and care for. only, you're four years older than me and you're a grown adult. tsk, tsk, tsk... if i treat you like a child, haru would implement that regimen for all time since you're quite the thoughtless kind, to be honest." cher finished tucking himself and looked proud at herself for doing something domestic without being violent first. "but i wonder, you know. about the chances i would get in the future of babying you. but then again... if i do, suzue-san would join and you would like a living joke."
daisuke felt a slight tick on his forehead.
"and yet... i'd bet you'd like it."
something foreign was upon his hair and daisuke felt that it was warm... inviting... homely.
cher pecked his hair.
"sleep tight, love."
when cher left, daisuke lifted his head and shook it, whispering, "i don't mind being babied."
⪩ ☁︎．note: republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
⪩ ☁︎．note (i): because episode three came out, i found the strength to do a short fic. nothing fancy, really. just something that i wanted to write for quite sometime.
cherloque amelie soleil holmes looked down upon the city of paris through the looking glass of the eiffel tower. her eyes were glazed with sullenness that no guests nor diners were able to see. after all, she had covered them perfectly well with her straight face that excludes emotions all else.
her father, the famous (or infamous) sherlock holmes, had forgetten their semi-annual dinner again. and it had been for two years in a row. no thanks for the rotten moriarty child that james had secretly left behind after he shot himself in the mouth, committing inevitable suicide.
'if weren't for that moriarty brat,' cher thought. 'my father would have been here, along with my mother if she's readily available. enjoying each other's company as family, not as business transactions.'
when the waiter arrived with her meal for two, he was baffled as to why she's the only one.
"i thought you had made reservations for two, miss holmes."
the young consultant detective shook her head softly. she informed, "my father had no wish to dine with me tonight. it appears something had his tied behind his back and he's rather untie it first than come over here." she, however, gestured for the waiter to just carry on with the service. "it's awkward, i know, but i don't mind if you just served the meal for two. i paid for it."
the waiter complied and served her meal and what was supposed to be her father's. once he left, cher closed her eyes, attempting to imagine the presence of her father to alleviate her tiny resentment.
she was halfway picking up the spoon for her soup when someone intervened.
"may i join you?"
the voice caught cher off-guard. she looked up to see daiksuke dressed for the evening; wearing a luxurious armani tuxedo that was adorned with a crimson rose in the chest pocket. he's well-kempt, as if he was on an appointment himself with the dining hall inside the eiffel tower.
"yes, you may," cher courteously replied, bowing her head. (she spent quite some time in japan during her weeks off with haru in the northern side of tokyo where daisuke wasn't assigned for the time being). daisuke sat down on the opposite chair wordlessly. he had the same listless face, but cher could tell he had an explanation as to why he's here. although he tried to remain oblivious.
"why are you here?" cher asked, draping the table napkin over her lap.
"can't i be here?"
"yes, you can, if you wanted to be," cher replied. "but i'm asking your reason for your presence here."
"your father called me," said the monotonous man. "he said he needed a representative tonight for his daughter."
cher almost dropped her spoon back into the bowl, but her manners and realization beat her to it, so she simply put it down with a soft thump. her face started to show emotions but the strongest ones were whirring in her eyes: confusion, surprise, and reconsideration all in one. maybe sherlock wasn't becoming forgetful, after all... maybe.
daisuke almost found her... cute. in a subtle, most english way (as if she had never before). her head was slightly tilted to the right side and her eyes were looking anywhere but him since they were directed to something else. her lips that were colored with a crimson lipstick was slightly pouting, as if she was contemplating.
she could have passed up as being a pet if not for her apt seriousness and accuracy.
"i see," cher said, nodding slowly. "and... you agreed?"
daisuke nodded, draping a table napkin over his lap. it was a small price to pay, after all.
there was a comfortable... soft... lingering silence between the two.
daisuke began to eat but cher never touched her meal again. until she asked the last question she wanted to inquire before she continues with her meal.
"as his duly representative? or as my invariable date from now on?"
sweeter wordings were never worded better for daisuke to almost choke his seafood soup. (trust a holmes to say something out of nowhere but it was her adler blood that made her bold).
⪩ ☁︎．note (ii): republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.
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