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bakerstreet2021-01-08 06:56 am
khaldrogos) wrote in bakerstreet2021-01-08 06:56 am
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(I made this even later worrying too much time had passed already, but can't resist, if wanted<3)
fulcrum3
- 2021-05-03 01:59 (UTC) - ExpandHonestly, it was a result of weird twist of fate after another. Phoenix, a defense attorney, had decided to move from Japan to London for a few years to study foreign legal systems, finding a sweet little home on the countryside, and he met Ginny at the farmer's market. She'd been surrounded by brothers with hair as red as hers, and the teasing was loud and relentless. The whole family were dressed strangely in hand-knit sweaters and patched robes, which meant most people avoided them, but the energy and warmth coming off of them had been magnetic. Phoenix had struck up a conversation with Ginny, and she reciprocated, seeming relieved to talk to someone other than her brothers.
Phoenix mentioned that he was new to town and asked if Ginny were willing to show him around. She was a good tour guide, showing him the pub, the woods, the open fields for kids to play in--she even explained why all everyone giggled when he said the word 'pants.' After the tour, he had to find a new reason to spend time with her--Phoenix being a man in need of friends in this new and strange place--so he asked if she knew how to garden. His new home had the perfect space for a garden, but it was all overgrown and Phoenix had only ever lived in cities.
She had a way with plants. Phoenix would almost call it magic. His garden was tamed, and between warm evenings of drinking tea and swapping stories about their respective countries, his new quiet house seemed to hum with life. The garden grew plants he had no idea thrived in the area, elderberry bushes bearing fruit in record time and flowers growing that looked so very much like the cherry blossoms he missed back home. Even coming home after particularly tough cases, he could swear that just crossing the threshold of his home eased his aches and pains and banished the crushing sense of hopelessness in his chest.
Of course he noticed that Ginny was hiding something--after several weeks had gone by where she never invited him to her home, she didn't give him her phone number, she never told him what she did for a living, and he never formally met her family, he'd kind of gathered--but he didn't feel the need to pry into it. She'd tell him when she was ready, he was sure.
But one day came where not even the easy aura of his home could banish the horror of the day, and when Ginny came to visit, he was already half a bottle of wine in. He'd expected her to leave, but instead she just told him to tell her what was wrong and took his wine for herself. She listened somberly to his story of a client who was murdered in prison. He had tried so hard to get bail, so get his client out of there while he gathered the evidence to prove their innocence, but it hadn't been enough to save him. There were no words to fix what was wrong, but she stayed with him, and they drank, and they discussed mortality and the ones they'd loved and lost. She'd had a lot of friends who were murdered, he discovered, but so did he.
The night grew dark, and conversation of death turned into laughing reminiscing of the lost, and that turned into pure laughter that can only be attained by children and drunk people. And then Phoenix kissed her.
They were not as careful as they should have been. Phoenix had no condoms, and they'd both stupidly decided that was fine, and Phoenix made love to her like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. He woke up the next day happy and hungover, sneaking out of bed to make them both pancakes, but he hadn't even made the first batch when his door was almost knocked off its hinges. A red-haired man, clearly one of Ginny's brothers, stormed into his home searching for his sister, and when Ginny came to the kitchen wearing Phoenix's shirt, her brother lost it. Both of them could have taken the house down with how they yelled, throwing words around that Phoenix didn't understand and words that Phoenix wished he didn't understand, and when he tried to cut in, it seemed to only make the conflict worse.
Ginny sent her brother away with a roar that he had no right to control her romantic life and she'd deal with him later. Her brother said something strange, something like 'Romantic life? You're just gearing up to break a muggle's heart, you bint,' before storming away again. Phoenix didn't understand, but he tried to assure her that if things were bad at home that she'd be welcome to stay at his place. She rejected the offer, clearly upset, and she left soon after. Phoenix didn't even know if she'd come back, and he had no way of contacting her.
So that's where he is now, weeks later, miserable and trying to maintain his garden without her guidance. His plants just don't seem as bright and lively without her to help tend them.
Phoenix mentioned that he was new to town and asked if Ginny were willing to show him around. She was a good tour guide, showing him the pub, the woods, the open fields for kids to play in--she even explained why all everyone giggled when he said the word 'pants.' After the tour, he had to find a new reason to spend time with her--Phoenix being a man in need of friends in this new and strange place--so he asked if she knew how to garden. His new home had the perfect space for a garden, but it was all overgrown and Phoenix had only ever lived in cities.
She had a way with plants. Phoenix would almost call it magic. His garden was tamed, and between warm evenings of drinking tea and swapping stories about their respective countries, his new quiet house seemed to hum with life. The garden grew plants he had no idea thrived in the area, elderberry bushes bearing fruit in record time and flowers growing that looked so very much like the cherry blossoms he missed back home. Even coming home after particularly tough cases, he could swear that just crossing the threshold of his home eased his aches and pains and banished the crushing sense of hopelessness in his chest.
Of course he noticed that Ginny was hiding something--after several weeks had gone by where she never invited him to her home, she didn't give him her phone number, she never told him what she did for a living, and he never formally met her family, he'd kind of gathered--but he didn't feel the need to pry into it. She'd tell him when she was ready, he was sure.
But one day came where not even the easy aura of his home could banish the horror of the day, and when Ginny came to visit, he was already half a bottle of wine in. He'd expected her to leave, but instead she just told him to tell her what was wrong and took his wine for herself. She listened somberly to his story of a client who was murdered in prison. He had tried so hard to get bail, so get his client out of there while he gathered the evidence to prove their innocence, but it hadn't been enough to save him. There were no words to fix what was wrong, but she stayed with him, and they drank, and they discussed mortality and the ones they'd loved and lost. She'd had a lot of friends who were murdered, he discovered, but so did he.
The night grew dark, and conversation of death turned into laughing reminiscing of the lost, and that turned into pure laughter that can only be attained by children and drunk people. And then Phoenix kissed her.
They were not as careful as they should have been. Phoenix had no condoms, and they'd both stupidly decided that was fine, and Phoenix made love to her like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. He woke up the next day happy and hungover, sneaking out of bed to make them both pancakes, but he hadn't even made the first batch when his door was almost knocked off its hinges. A red-haired man, clearly one of Ginny's brothers, stormed into his home searching for his sister, and when Ginny came to the kitchen wearing Phoenix's shirt, her brother lost it. Both of them could have taken the house down with how they yelled, throwing words around that Phoenix didn't understand and words that Phoenix wished he didn't understand, and when he tried to cut in, it seemed to only make the conflict worse.
Ginny sent her brother away with a roar that he had no right to control her romantic life and she'd deal with him later. Her brother said something strange, something like 'Romantic life? You're just gearing up to break a muggle's heart, you bint,' before storming away again. Phoenix didn't understand, but he tried to assure her that if things were bad at home that she'd be welcome to stay at his place. She rejected the offer, clearly upset, and she left soon after. Phoenix didn't even know if she'd come back, and he had no way of contacting her.
So that's where he is now, weeks later, miserable and trying to maintain his garden without her guidance. His plants just don't seem as bright and lively without her to help tend them.
[up for moving our last thread?]
[Accidental is probably the only option but willing to discuss others! No dub/noncon]
[I'm definitely down for accidental. Do you prefer keeping Arthur to his own time period/environment or have any preferences in AUs?]
[No #7 please. I love AUs so I'm open to any combination of the rest.]
Edited 2021-01-08 17:47 (UTC)
[No #7 please. I love AUs so I'm open to any combination of the rest.]
[ Open to mpreg also. Wataru can be on the receiving end or the giving. Also willing to change Wataru's sex to female if that's what you're into. ]
Some time had passed since that fateful day when Daryl and Beth had been trapped in that abandoned vehicle together, and finally confronted their feelings for one another. It wasn't often that they got the chance to be alone together since then, sharing secret glances and furtive touches when they were with the group, but they did find ways to steal away from time to time. They hadn't exactly been careful, that first time, and they hadn't really talked about what would happen if she got pregnant, but once in a while when he watched her with Judith, Daryl couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a daughter of their own.
"You'd make a good mom," he murmured, sidling up to her when nobody was looking. He wasn't sure what made him say it, but it was too late to take it back now. "Do you ever think about having a family of your own?"
"You'd make a good mom," he murmured, sidling up to her when nobody was looking. He wasn't sure what made him say it, but it was too late to take it back now. "Do you ever think about having a family of your own?"
Eligre Kaivodulin || D&D/flexible/generic high fantasy || OTA
lady_kaivodulin
2021-01-09 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
{Anything but #7. Only characters 30+, with a slight preference for fellow nonhumans}}
The mercenary life comes with few expectations and no planning. No sense in saving up for a more permanent place to settle, no family to bring money to. No certainty that a man would live to see his next sunrise, nevermind his next year so what good was hoarding coin? Almost as soon as Yvain-- and the other sellswords in their small ragged company-- had been paid for this last job, plans were made to rid themselves of that payment in short order by way of drinking, whoring, eating food they didn't have to hunt or fish or loot themselves. Yvain planned on having a nice hot bath, changing his shirt, rebraiding his hair before he got wasted and
chased skirts until daybreak. Someone called him a dandy and he gave them a shove.
"Hey, barbarian--" he calls out good naturedly to the fierce, yellow haired woman who had joined their company for this shit job that had lasted them a couple of weeks. "You're a lady. Tell Shit for Brains here that ladies like a man who looks after himself."
chased skirts until daybreak. Someone called him a dandy and he gave them a shove.
"Hey, barbarian--" he calls out good naturedly to the fierce, yellow haired woman who had joined their company for this shit job that had lasted them a couple of weeks. "You're a lady. Tell Shit for Brains here that ladies like a man who looks after himself."
Edited 2021-01-12 00:35 (UTC)
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