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sassenach77yle · 2 months ago

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||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 3 EPISODE 13 || EYE OF THE STORM ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“This way,” I said. Within ten paces, I saw the light. It was no more than a faint glow on the rocks of the passage, but it was enough to restore the gift of sight. Suddenly, I could see my hands and feet, though dimly.

My breath came out in something like a sob, of relief and fear. I felt like a ghost taking shape as I walked toward the light and the soft bell-hum before me. The light was stronger, now, then dimmed again as Jamie slid in front of me, and his back blocked my view. Then he bent and stepped through a low archway. I followed, and stood up in light. It was a good-sized chamber, the walls farthest from the torch still cold and black with the slumber of the cave. The wall before us had wakened, though. It flickered and gleamed, particles of embedded mineral reflecting the flames of a pine torch, fixed in a crevice.

“So ye came, did you?”

Geillis was on her knees, eyes fixed on a glittering stream of white powder that fell from her folded fist, drawing a line on the dark floor. I heard a small sound from Jamie, half relief, half horror, as he saw Ian. The boy lay in the middle of the pentacle on his side, hands bound behind him, gagged with a strip of white cloth. Next to him lay an ax. It was made of a shiny dark stone, like obsidian, with a sharp, chipped edge. The handle was covered with gaudy beadwork, in an African pattern of stripes and zigzags.

“Don’t come any closer, fox.” Geilie sat back on her heels, showing her teeth to Jamie in an expression that was not a smile. She held a pistol in one hand; its fellow, charged and cocked, was thrust through the leather belt she wore about her waist. Eyes fixed on Jamie, she reached into the pouch suspended from the belt and withdrew another handful of diamond dust. I could see beads of sweat standing on her broad white brow; the bell-hum from the time-passage must be reaching her as it reached me. I felt sick, and the sweat ran down my body in trickles under my clothes. The pattern was almost finished. With the pistol carefully trained, she dribbled out the thin, shining stream until she had completed the pentagram. The stones were already laid inside it—they glinted from the floor in sparks of color, connected by a gleaming line of poured quicksilver. “There, then.” She sat back on her heels with a sigh of relief, and wiped the thick, creamy hair back with one hand. “Safe. The diamond dust keeps out the noise,” she explained to me. “Nasty, isn’t it?” She patted Ian, who lay bound and gagged on the ground in front of her, his eyes wide with fear above the white cloth of the gag. “There, there, mo chridhe. Dinna fret, it will be soon over.” “Take your hand off him, ye wicked bitch!” Jamie took an impulsive step forward, hand on his dirk, then stopped, as she lifted the barrel of the pistol an inch. “Ye mind me o’ your uncle Dougal, a sionnach,” she said, tilting her head to one side coquettishly. “He was older when I met him than you are now, but you’ve the look of him about ye, aye? Like ye’d take what ye pleased and damn anyone who stands in your way.” Jamie looked at Ian, curled on the floor, then up at Geilie. “I’ll take what’s mine,” he said softly. “But ye can’t, now, can ye?” she said, pleasantly. “One more step, and I kill ye dead. I spare ye now, only because Claire seems fond of ye.” Her eyes shifted to me, standing in the shadows behind Jamie. She nodded to me.

“A life for a life, sweet Claire. Ye tried to save me once, on Craigh na Dun; I saved you from the witch-trial at Cranesmuir. We’re quits now, aye?”

Geilie picked up a small bottle, uncorked it, and poured the contents carefully over Ian’s clothes. The smell of brandy rose up, strong and heady, and the torch flared brighter as the fumes of alcohol reached it. Ian bucked and kicked, making a strained noise of protest, and she kicked him sharply in the ribs. “Be still!” she said. “Don’t do it, Geilie,” I said, knowing that words would do no good. “I have to,” she said calmly. “I’m meant to. I’m sorry I shall have to take the girl, but I’ll leave ye the man.” “What girl?” Jamie’s fists were clenched tight at his side, knuckles white even in the dim torchlight. “Brianna? That’s the name, isn’t it?” She shook back her heavy hair, smoothing it out of her face. “The last of Lovat’s line.” She smiled at me.

“What luck ye should have come to see me, aye? I’d never ha’ kent it, otherwise. I thought they’d all died out before 1900.” A thrill of horror shot through me. I could feel the same tremor run through Jamie as his muscles tightened. It must have shown on his face. Geilie cried out sharply and leapt back. She fired as he lunged at her. His head snapped back, and his body twisted, hands still reaching for her throat. Then he fell, his body limp across the edge of the glittering pentagram. There was a strangled moan from Ian. I felt rather than heard a sound rise in my throat. I didn’t know what I had said, but Geilie turned her face in my direction, startled. When Brianna was two, a car had carelessly sideswiped mine, hitting the back door next to where she was sitting. I slowed to a stop, checked briefly to see that she was unhurt, and then bounded out, headed for the other car, which had pulled over a little way ahead. The other driver was a man in his thirties, quite large, and probably entirely self-assured in his dealings with the world. He looked over his shoulder, saw me coming, and hastily rolled up his window, shrinking back in his seat. I had no consciousness of rage or any other emotion; I simply knew, with no shadow of doubt, that I could—and would—shatter the window with my hand, and drag the man out through it. He knew it, too. I thought no further than that, and didn’t have to; the arrival of a police car had recalled me to my normal state of mind, and then I started to shake. But the memory of the look on that man’s face stayed with me. Fire is a poor illuminator, but it would have taken total darkness to conceal that look on Geilie’s face; the sudden realization of what was coming toward her. She jerked the other pistol from her belt and swung it to bear on me; I saw the round hole of the muzzle clearly—and didn’t care. The roar of the discharge caromed through the cave, the echoes sending down showers of rocks and dirt, but by then I had seized the ax from the floor. I noted quite clearly the leather binding, ornamented with a beaded pattern. It was red, with yellow zigzags and black dots. The dots echoed the shiny obsidian of the blade, and the red and yellow picked up the hues of the flaming torch behind her. I heard a noise behind me, but didn’t turn. Reflections of the fire burned red in the pupils of her eyes. The red thing, Jamie had called it. I gave myself to it, he had said. I didn’t need to give myself; it had taken me. There was no fear, no rage, no doubt. Only the stroke of the swinging ax. The shock of it echoed up my arm, and I let go, my fingers numbed. I stood quite still, not even moving when she staggered toward me. Blood in firelight is black, not red. She took one blind step forward and fell, all her muscles gone limp, making no attempt to save herself. The last I saw of her face was her eyes; set wide, beautiful as gemstones, a green water-clear and faceted with the knowledge of death.

Someone was speaking, but the words made no sense. The cleft in the rock buzzed loudly, filling my ears. The torch flickered, flaring sudden yellow in a draft; the beating of the dark angel’s wings, I thought. The sound came again, behind me.

62 ABANDAWE ~ voyager

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mia1989 · 3 days ago

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Outlander: Unfinished Business Review

I honest to God don't even remember the last time I was on this site, but given that there's new episodes of Outlander, and I have thoughts, I thought I'd start doing reviews again. And be forewarned, I am a book reader, so this may contain upcoming spoilers (I will tag it as such).

Pros:

I may be in the minority, but I actually really like the new Jenny. I absolutely adored Laura's version, but I actually appreciate that Kristin Atherton is sticking closer to book Jenny than Laura Donnelly did. Jenny still has a certain toughness about her, but I feel like Kristin is giving her a softer edge as well, which makes sense because as people age, many do become softer.

Jamie and Claire being back at Lallybroch felt just like coming home from an audience perspective. The scene in the Laird's room where they were reminiscing were so heartwarming.

Seeing all of Jenny and Ian's brood was a welcome surprise, I wasn't expecting to see so many Murray's.

All of the scenes with older Ian absolutely broke my heart, but I really loved them. He is going to be so missed, which is a testament to how well Steven Cree plays him because he is one of my favourite characters.

Laoghaire's "happy" ending. She has never been a favourite character of mine, but she's been put through a lot of shit over the years, so I am glad to see she was able to find someone to love,

Although I knew it was coming, seeing Brian Fraser again made me so happy. I liked his interactions with Roger, just wish Brianna could have been there as well.

The ending with Geilis was an amazing cliffhanger. I cannot wait to see her, Buck, Roger and Dougal next week. This storyline is unhinged in a hilarious way.

Cons:

Roger's voiceover. I don't usually mind voiceovers, but this one just felt out of place to me.

I wish we could have had more scenes with Jenny and Claire this go around. I just really love their relationship and how complicated it is. I'm really hoping the show will follow the book and bring Jenny to Fraser's Ridge eventually.

Jamie and Claire's lack of goodbye. I just felt like they didn't really get a proper goodbye this goaround, especially given what is coming and the separation once again.

All in all I'd give this episode an 8.5/10. It was well done and had a lot of nods to the book, which I really appreciate. I have high hopes for the rest of this season and can't wait to see what's to come, even knowing that it will break me.

#outlander #outlander spoilers #spoilers for rest of season 7 and possibly 8 #don't read if you don't want to be spoiled #jamie x claire

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wardrobeoftime · 3 months ago

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Master Post - N to Z

If you notice any show, movie or character missing that I’ve made gifs of, please let me know. Characters are sorted alphabetically by first their last name and then their first name.

Go to A-M | Last updated: November 21st, 2024

Nussknacker und Mausekönig (Louise Stahlbaum | Marie Stahlbaum | Zuckerfee/Sugar Fairy)

Oktoberfest 1900/Oktoberfest: Beer & Blood (Clara Prank | Curt Prank)

Once Upon A Time in Wonderland (Alice | Cora Mills | Anastasia Tremaine)

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (Agatha Danbury | Queen Charlotte | Violet Ledger | Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart | Princess Charlotte of Wales)

Rise of Empires: Ottoman (Katarina Branković | Mara Branković | Gülbahar Hatun | Hüma Hatun | Constantine XI Palaiologos)

Romeo & Juliet [2013] (Juliet Capulet)

Sechs auf einen Streich (see the individual movies)

Shadow and Bone (Tatiana Lantsov | Zoya Nazyalensky | Genya Safin | Alina Starkov)

Sisi [2009] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Charlotte of Belgium | Eugénie de Montijo)

Sisi [2021] (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Karl Ludwig von Grünne | Eugénie de Montijo)

Sissi Trilogy (Elisabeth “Sisi” of Austria | Archduchess Sophie of Austria | Helene “Néné” in Bavaria | Ludovika, The Duchess in Bavaria)

Snow White and the Huntsman (Ravenna)

Sophie - Braut wider Willen (Sophie von Ahlen)

Still Star-Crossed (Guiliana Capulet | Juliet Capulet | Rosaline Capulet | Tessa Montague | Princess Isabella of Verona)

The 100 (Emori | Clarke Griffin | Lexa)

The Age of Adaline (Adaline Bowman)

The Last Duel (Marguerite de Carrouges | Jacques Le Gris)

The Little Mermaid [2023] (Vanessa)

The Crown (Catherine Middleton | Queen Elizabeth II | Princess Margaret)

The Empress (see Die Kaiserin)

The Eras Tour (Taylor Swift)

The Gilded Age (Mamie Fish | Bertha Russell | Peggy Scott | Extras)

The Greatest Showman (Jenny Lind)

The Hunger Games Trilogy (Katniss Everdeen | Peeta Mellark | Johanna Mason | Finnick Odair | Coriolanus Snow)

The Huntsman: Winter’s War (Freya | Ravenna)

The Other Boleyn Girl 2008 (Anne Boleyn | Elizabeth Boleyn (née Howard) | Mary Boleyn)

The Pillars of the Earth (Empress Matilda)

The Princess Switch (Margaret Delacourt | Fiona Pembroke)

The Royals (Princess Eleanor Henstridge | Queen Helena Henstridge | Wilhelmina “Willow” Moreno)

The Scandalous Lady W (Seymour Fleming)

The School for Good and Evil (Emma Anemone | Clarissa Dovey | Leonora Lesso)

The Serpent Queen (Catherine de Medici | Diane de Poitiers | Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots)

The Spanish Princess (Catherine of Aragon | Henry VIII | Mary Tudor)

The White Princess (Mary of Burgundy | Elizabeth of York)

The Young Victoria (Victoria, The Duchess of Kent (née of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld) | Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha | Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen | Queen Victoria)

Three Thousand Years of Longing (Hürrem Sultan | Kösem Sultan)

Trenck - Zwei Herzen gegen die Krone (Anna Amalia of Prussia)

Tulip Fever (Mrs Overalt | Sophia Sandvoort | Mrs Steen)

Tut (Ankhesenamun)

Vampire Academy [2022] (Vasilisa “Lissa” Dragomir)

Victoria (Queen Victoria | Victoria, Princess Royal)

Vom Reich zur Republik (Victoria, Princess Royal)

War & Peace [2016] (Natasha Rostova)

What We Do In The Shadows (Marwa)

Wolf Hall (Anne Boleyn | Catherine of Aragon)

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le-fils-de-lhomme · 10 months ago

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To the person in that fanfic post saying they're gonna write Claire sitting on Geilis's face: Know that I support you emotionally, mentally, and physically.

#I love evil lesbians.

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strugglingtoadultandstuff · 3 years ago

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Outlander Characters as Described by John Mulaney Quotes (Part 1??)

Claire:

Murtagh Fraser:

Also Murtagh:

Geilis Duncan:

Fergus Fraser:

Jamie Fraser:

#john mulaney #outlander #jamie fraser #fergus fraser #claire fraser #murtagh fraser #geilis duncan

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listentothewordsyousay-blog · 6 years ago

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Flu (chapter 6)

Empty

The week from Christmas to New Year was a blur of illness and death. After the dawning of the New Year, the spread of the flu seemed to slow. Gradually, the targets were met; fewer people were admitted to hospital, fewer people died. Finally a cocktail of medications was found to be effective and the pandemic was officially downgraded.

Claire found it a privilege to return to medicine again, to hold answers in her brain and cures in her hands. The hospital felt like home again, although the thought of her own home sat in her heart like a stone. The single medics with no dependents had been asked to volunteer to remain in their hospital accommodation in case of a recurrence; she had gladly signed the form and even more gladly fell into her bunk at the end of each day with only the usual bone-tiredness.

The medical staff were lectured by shouty army-types about maintaining strict infection controls, but the mood had noticeably lightened. A demonstration of the correct method of removing scrubs was accompanied by a wolf whistle from the back of the lecture hall and an impromptu phonetic rendition of the introductory chords of ‘Hot Stuff’. The resulting hilarity drowned out the officer as he vainly tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

Jamie wiped tears from his eyes and emitted a sound which could only be described as a giggle. ‘I thought he was going to hurl the board duster at me,’ he whispered to Claire. ‘My maths teacher fired one at me once and hit me square on the nose.’

‘What for?’

‘Talkin,’ he grinned. ‘I was trying to flirt with the pretty girl sitting next to me.’

‘Did it work?’

He grimaced and made what she could only describe as a Scottish noise. ‘Nah. And the duster gave off a cloud of dust and I had to sit there like Caspar the Friendly Ghost until the bell rang’.

Choking back giggles of her own, Claire jumped when Geilis poked her squarely in the back and dropped a folded note down. In keeping with the theme of teenage behaviour, Geilis had drawn two heart bubbles with a J and a C, annotated with ‘kissing in a tree’. She had also added ‘empty in ward 75 tonight?’

The officer had resorted to full parade volume by this point, preventing a reply. Claire nudged Jamie and pointed to the message. He snickered before catching her confusion. ‘Tell ye later’.

An empty, Geilis explained to Claire, was when one’s parents went away on holiday and foolishly entrusted their teenage offspring with an empty house. The initial mood of the Ward 75 reunion was more sombre, as one by one the team reassembled in the dusk and performed a silent roll call.

Glasses were raised and toasts made to honour the memories of Angus’ girlfriend and Rupert’s two siblings. Colleagues were commemorated through tales of hazings, miracles and long-forgotten nights out. Friends and lovers were introduced in spirit, their souls commended into the hands of someone or something more than them, reminded that they’d meet again.

In the haze of Geilis’ home-poured measures, Jamie and Claire had long abandoned the pretence of just sitting next to each other. She was lying on his lap, his arms wrapped around her. At some point, as the sing-song was getting started, they wandered off to the Ridge hand-in-hand to sober up under the stars.

‘I can’t go home alone, Jamie,’ she whispered eventually.

‘Good. I can’t either.’

#together #loveisallyouneed #flupandemic #outlander #modern au #doctorfrasers #claire and jamie #geilis and gin

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whiskynottea · 7 years ago

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Best first reaction award of a mother holding her newborn.

Geilis was always innovative.

#outlander #geilis #season 3 #3x12 #claire fraser #Bakran #fucked up Geilis #fucked up #Geilis Duncan

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 1 year ago

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Chapters: 30/? Fandom: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser Characters: Claire Beauchamp, Jamie Fraser, Fergus Fraser, Jenny Murray, Ian Murray, Sandy Travers, Frank Randall, Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, Ned Gowan Additional Tags: Berlin, The Frasers in Prussia, Germany Summary:

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved… unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange

From Dec 1st on, I will post one or two chapters of this fic during December until its end. And: A new chapter is coming soon!

#Outlander #outlander Fan Fiction #James Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Fergus Fraser #We only do this for Fergus #Geilis Duncan #Berlin #Deutschland #Germany #Modern AU

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kkruml · 4 years ago

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STAY CH 16

I am absolutely gobsmacked by all the love this wee story has gotten over time. I did not intend for it to take as long as it did to find the ending to this story, but alas, life and circumstances (and a f*cking pandemic) got in the way. BUT- it’s here. The final chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. This story started off as a prompt about a trope that I had always enjoyed but never considered writing. I am glad I took the leap and am forever grateful for the support and beta magic that are @abreathofsnowandwaffles and @missclairebelle. Without you both I would never have attempted this. I love you both.

To everyone who has read, shared, and enjoyed (even a little!) this story, thank you.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

AO3

Mood music

Previously

Whole.

The word danced around the corners of her mind. Her eyes shifted from him to the golden hues splashed across the sky. Was she whole? Twisting her wrist for inspection, she felt no sharp pain, just a dull ache from use.

No longer broken.

Now came the recovery. As a doctor she had seen the scans, she knew the rehabilitation trajectory. Yet here, with him, the statistics and analytical journal findings faded from mental view. Here, in this moment, she was simply Claire. With Jamie. Her Jamie. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

“I think I know exactly what you mean,” drawing her gaze back to him, she exhaled contentedly. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his, taking it gently. “Thank you, Jamie.”

“Och, ‘tis nothing lass.” Dirt-stained fingertips pressed into her skin. His warmth encompassed her.

“Jamie…” she started, her eyes lowering to see their fingers intertwined. Blinking hard and tilting her face to meet his, she finished, “I don’t just mean for today.”

An echo of a smile tugged at his lips and he exhaled.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” His voice hummed, soft and tender. “There’s the two of us now.”

His words were so simple. But there was something in the blue of his eyes that spoke to the depth of his meaning. Her breath caught as she felt the same weight of prophecy to his words.

CLAIRE

Blue.

Whisky.

Stay.

The words whispered to her in a soft rhythm, beckoning her from sleep. One eye begrudgingly parted and she was blessed with the sight of Jamie’s face. His nose, straight and angled, thick stubble dappled his cheeks, and the line of his lips curled into a small smile while he slept.

She had missed that quiet smile.

It had been so long. Since the accident.

She yearned for it.

Ached for it.

Shifting slightly onto her side she felt his arm tighten around her waist, and a flutter of a giggle tickled her chest.

He had been gentle with her, almost too gentle. At first he kept a respectable space as to avoid injuring or jostling her arm, or pressing into her ribs as they healed. But then as days passed, they became hesitant with each other as a small crack formed and slowly spread to fill the space between, a sliver at a time.

It had been weeks. But tonight, he had reached out to her in sleep.

Perhaps it was the whisky from the hours earlier, or the heady tension between them as they traded glasses and slipped farther and farther into their own bubble, consumed by each other’s mere presence that she’d felt a shift between them. His warmth encompassed her and flushed her cheeks before dipping into her chest. She burned for his touch. Her fingers trembled as they slowly rose towards his face, before stopping just short of his jawline. She faltered for a moment, losing her nerve.

What if he woke up?

The thought lit the fire that had sunk just below her belly button and her lip quivered. The boldness she felt that night, all those months ago- that night he bared his soul to her, the night he told her about the accident- that strength had slowly faded from her with each passing day since her injury.

Gently placing her hand back onto her side, her eyes traced the solid line of muscle from his shoulder down to his elbow. Perfect peaks and valleys were highlighted by the faint moonlight. Reveling in the knowledge that he was hers, she let out a satisfied sigh.

A glow from the bedside table caught her attention and she rolled her eyes. She knew who it was, and what the message said, and she silently cursed herself for the spontaneous text earlier. A moment of alcohol-induced bravery had prompted a bold proclamation. That tonight, she would reclaim that lost and most intimate connection with Jamie… in a somewhat less than mature manner of speaking.

Lifting the phone enough to see the screen, she caught the text that flashed.

Have ye crawled out from under the Viking for air yet?

Geillis.

To be honest, there were a few moments she thought that it might happen. Jamie’s gaze grew more menacing and his fingers lingered as they traced the lines of her hem at the small of her back, all the while whispering old stories of Lallybroch in her ear so close that she could taste the amber liquid on his breath. But then… after stumbling past the doorway into their bedroom, with fits of laughter breaking between them, they settled into a coy yet contented ball of sheets and blankets on the bed.

She had welcomed the weight of his body against hers as their laughter softly echoed off the bedroom walls. But with a swift tug of the comforter beneath them, he had rolled clumsily onto her left side and the spell between them was broken. Stammering his way through an impassioned apology, he shifted his body, overcompensating for the contact and leaving ample space between them. The buzzing electricity between them simmered and the courage she’d come so close to wielding receded. After a few more gentle smiles and muttered apologies from Jamie, they both had drifted into blissful sleep. But that ache persisted, and it rose from a dull ache to a heady throb.

With a half-hearted sigh, she tapped the screen to respond.

Will catch up tomorrow. Too tired and too much whisky tonight ;)

Three bubbles quickly appeared on her screen as Geillis’s words flashed quickly.

Aye. Too much ‘Whisky.’ As ye say. XO

That was not what she meant, but she didn’t correct Geilis. They would see each other tomorrow, and she would set the record straight then. Maybe.

Struggling to settle her mind back into the quiet darkness of the room, she let her eyelids close and the words beckoned again.

Stay. Please stay.

Her fingers twitched. Her head swirled with the words, and then a melody slowly seeped in and clouded her thoughts. An almost torturous rhythm played over and over in her head, keeping sleep at bay and forcing out the memories of the night before.

Sighing again, this time in resignation, she slowly slid off the bed. Gently moving his arm to rest on the space she had just vacated, she paused. Gazing at his perfect form in the tangle of sheets in their bed for a moment longer, she then turned on her heel and padded out of the room.

Where is that bloody guitar?

JAMIE

Claire.

Mmm. Feeling the warmth against his palm, he contracted his muscles and pulled a tangle of empty bed sheets against his chest.

Where is she?

Thoughts came quickly, erratic and half-formed as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

His last vision of her was in bed next to him, a beautiful mosaic of dark curls and light skin, splintered in his mind but beautiful nonetheless.

It was still late… no- early? The soft morning light had not yet fully crept through the curtains, but it kissed the soft linen and a glow inched across the bedroom floor.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he could still, but barely, see her face as they stumbled into his, no their flat just hours before- lips parted in a beaming grin, eyes warm and glowing, curls spilling out of a bird’s nest atop her head.

Having stopped at a local pub in a desperate attempt to prolong their evening, the memory of her leaning in closely as each drop of amber fluid eased the tension in her shoulders. The heat on her breath as she whispered new Gaelic words she had been studying but never said aloud settled in his bones and burned just under the surface. The timidity between them had receded with every look, every brush of skin against each other. Like a balm on a healing wound, her every look and movement was a salve on his soul.

Shaking his head, the memory slowly faded, and he blinked ruefully as it subsided. He heard a faint sound, a slight… plucking of strings? Moving quickly through the flat he eyed his guitar stand in the corner by the couch- empty.

His lip twitched and he fought the sensation. Doesna mean anything.. Or does it?

Grabbing the tumbled mass of tartan on the cushion, he slinked his way up the fire escape to the rooftop, following the sounds of his guitar as the notes tweaked and came into tune.

CLAIRE

There’s my C. Finally.

He said it would come with time, but neglected to mention just how tedious tuning a guitar could be. It always seemed to sing when he played, a natural extension of himself.

Effortless.

He was right.

A small echo of a laugh bubbled in her chest. He was always so sure when he spoke. Whether he was storytelling or gesticulating on the latest rugby match. There was a conviction in his words, and in this instance, she knew he was right. What the strings and pick are to him, a scalpel and needle are to her.

She plucked the string again.

Bloody Scot was right.

And she was grateful for it.

Letting out a quick breath into the crisp night air, her eyelids fluttered shut as the words undulated in her mind, like a tide rolling in. Growing closer, then receding before pushing closer and closer, she surrendered to the pulsating rhythm.

With a quick roll of the wrist, and sigh of relief as it cooperated without sign of pain, she set her fingers against the strings. The words thrummed in her ears, echoing as the memory struggles to come into focus.

“Nothing is lost… please stay.”

JAMIE

His breath caught as his eyes found her, freezing him. An unruly mess of dark curls cascaded around her, the wind toying with a strand as it twisted and fluttered in the air, the curves of her shoulders draped in his favorite rugby shirt.

He stood breathlessly, watching as her hand absentmindedly grasped the errant lock and tucked it behind one ear. The movement was subtle, but made his heart pound. Her wrist, newly healed and etched with fresh scars, moved with an ease. There was a fluidity, an almost absent-mindedness he hadn’t seen in weeks.

Her chin was set in determination, her lower lip tucked between her teeth and head cocked as if the guitar was whispering its secrets to her. The curve of her back matched the line of his guitar, two of his favorite things molded into one.

A Dhia.

She was beautiful.

With a heavy exhale to take in the scene, his body rested against the metal railing. A high pitched creak filled the air and he watched as her face jerked toward him in panic. The current of gold in her eyes settled slightly as they fixed on him before igniting into a deep ember.

CLAIRE

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his eyes were electric, and the slope of his lips, parted as raspy breath escaped, filled her vision. The heat of his stare traveled down her throat with a hard swallow, descending into the depths just below her navel. Blinking hard to quell the feeling, she held her gaze, letting his beauty overtake her nerves.

“Are ye alright, mo nighean donn?” his voice cut through the darkness. It shook just slightly as the Gaelic punctuated his question, two fingers tapping against his thigh.

My brown haired lass.

She remembered the first time he’d called her that. He promised one day he’d tell her what it meant. Instead, she’d found them in an old, nondescript and dusty book on his shelf... or perhaps the words found her. She reveled in knowing what it meant as he’d whisper it in darkness, tender and soft.

“Y-yes, quite,” she started as pulled herself back to the present. Letting a deep sigh encompass her, she met his eye. “Did I wake you?”

“Ach no, I just dinna...” he started as twitching fingers ran through his hair. “ I just… dinna sleep well wi’out ye with me.”

“Oh.” she said quietly, letting a small smile play at her lips as heat rose in her chest. “I wanted to show you something.”

One eyebrow quirked and with it came a breathtaking grin framed by fiery red hair and electric blue eyes. “I seem to recall ye said once that they let anyone play.”

JAMIE

“Och! You don’t need to ruin the moment,” she said with exasperation.

“Wai- what?” His ears perked at the noise. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to find the words. “Was that...Did ye just-”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she countered, “Wot?”

“Tis nothing,” he started, recovering from his stumble. “That was just a decidedly Scottish sound there…”

“I most certainly did not,” her voice stuttered on the last word, her eyebrows creasing as he watched her question her own words.

Thank the laird for small miracles and glass faces.

“Are ye sure yer a Sassenach aft-after all?” A laugh rumbled from his chest as he moved toward her, “Ye do a fine version of a salty auld Highlander indeed.”

“Well,” her lips parted in a conciliatory smile and her eyes glowed. “I seem to have learned from the best.”

A breeze filled the space between them and he caught her slight frame shiver.

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” he asked, drawing out the last word for emphasis. She was an outlander, a most rare and precious gift.

“I’m alright,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, but there was no conviction behind her voice.

“Dinna be stubborn lass, I can hear yer teeth rattle from here.” He countered with an attempt at a wink. In truth, it was an excuse, any excuse to move closer to her.

Her face softened and she sighed, nodding as she bit down on her lower lip. His eyes darted to her mouth, tracing every curve and line. His tongue reflexively darted out and licked his lips, aching to taste her breath against his skin. Balling his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch her face, his fingers dug into crumpled up fabric- the tartan soft and warm in his hand.

The tactile sensation brought him from his thoughts, and he held it out to her as he closed the space between them. His lips curled as he cocked his head, “After all… Ye canna bring dishonor on the Fraser colors, Sassenach.”

“Oh mon dieu, first the Fréselière and now your clan’s colors and creed?” Her eyes were alight with humor as she turned to fully face him, his guitar shifting in her lap. She inhaled sharply, her eyes intent and glowing, “My hands seem to be full at the moment... might you help?”

He stood still, surprised for a moment but swallowed hard and gathered up the material in both hands. Timidly, he wrapped his arms around her, her hair tickling his nose as he leaned in close.

Pressing against him softly, her voice was low and heavy as she said, “Thank you.”

Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, he set himself on the seat next to her- close but not quite touching. “Ach, so ye had something to play then, aye?”

“Well it’s just the start of something, I think,” she mumbled.

The familiar chords echoed between them as she hummed the melody. Had he played that for her before? He didn't think he had?

CLAIRE

She pulled her eyes from her fingers as they pressed into the cords to find his gaze heavy on her. She hummed for a few beats and then with eyes closed she exhaled with contentment.

“Clear blue….” she breathed, waiting for the next chord progression to continue with a disjointed “world of whiskey.” The strings vibrated against her fingertips before she whispered the lines that had repeated over and over in her mind, “Nothing is lost… Please stay.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. His hands were clasped together tightly, fingernails dug slightly into ruddy, sunkissed skin.

“I wasn’t sure.. I mean, it’s-” she was suddenly shy, embarrassed. It was absurd to try to explain, the words just… were to her.

His face was frozen and his lower lip quivered. With a low, shaky voice he asked, “Where did ye find those words?”

“They just…” she started. Without thinking she continued, the words tumbling out of her, “They just came to me. I think it was a dream. I was drowning, and then I saw... light. Wings. And then a voice asking me to stay.”

“Mo Chridhe,” his voice was almost a whisper, each word quiet but strong. “That was me.”

She struggled to understand the pain in his voice. “You?”

Fragmented time flashed through her mind. Her father, the heron’s wings. The tattoo. The flutter of wings in her ears as she lay in that bed. Through it all, the words, those words- they cut through the noise.

It was him.

JAMIE

He watched her, waiting. The realization flashed across her face.

Her voice was almost a whisper, but her eyes were a smoldering amber. Her voice was sure, true. “It was you.”

She remembered.

The weeks lost to the accident and the uncertainty of what was to come when she couldn’t remember- the truths they had shared… it was still there. A weight lifted from his chest and he exhaled for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Whatever it was between them, that awful night hadn’t stolen it from them. As she had lain, still and broken, in that hospital bed amidst a rhythmic beeping of machines and hushed voices in the hallway, he had sung to her.

And she had heard him.

“It was me,” he said simply, wanting to repeat those words over and over again. Inching close, eyes trained on her, he let the echo of a smile pull at his lip. “I had trouble finishing the line.”

The whisky in her eyes burned as her chest heaved with effort. The gravity of the moment threatened to crumble her facade, and she struggled to keep her tone light, “Yes, you did.”

The confirmation sent a shock wave through him. “So, Sassenach…” he let his voice fade as he contemplated. His voice hung between them, both unsure of how to speak.

CLAIRE

His voice was low, his irises almost black. “How does it end then?”

The silence throbbed between them like a heartbeat. The weight of his question lingered. Seemingly innocent on the surface, the deeper meaning reverberating between them.

With a small smile, her fingers touched the strings. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders.

“Your face is my heart and the love of you…” she paused, wanting the words to ring true. Her hand twitched and curled to find the strings without difficulty as she finished, “My soul.”

The chord hung between them, the vibration echoing against her skin. Without looking away, she gently set the guitar down as the note dissipated and scattered into the air. The wind whipped between them, the familiar scent of linen, sandalwood and him struck her as she watched him, waiting.

“I thought I’d lost ye,” his voice was gravely as it tumbled out of him, carrying the weight of the last several weeks. His eyes were focused on a point in the distance. When he pulled his gaze to her, she saw a pool of tears threatening to brim over. Speaking the truths he’d hidden even from himself, his voice broke as he said, “First wi’ the accident and then ye lost sae many memories of… us. I just couldna bear it- losing ye, losing us.”

“Jamie…” her chest constricted as she watched his face contort and relive that night.

JAMIE

“I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out ye. I was born-” He felt the desperation in his voice, but he couldn’t stop it. She had to know. Had to understand. She needed to feel the love that nearly burst out of his chest, and the agony he’d kept at bay these last long few weeks. He pushed his fingers through his curls as the words spilled out in fragments, “I was- I c-cannae explain it I just… just…. Christ!”

All the words he needed to say came crashing down in his mind and he couldn’t form a single thought to sort them out. He stood helplessly, two digits thrumming against his leg.

Her tone was low as she peeked through furrowed brows and dark lashes, “... I was born for you?”

“Aye,” His eyes darted to her face, the air ripped from his lungs. “How did ye know?”

“Jamie…” her voice was small but warm. “I’ve whispered those same words.. I’ve known that every day since I met you.”

“Claire,” his voice coiled around her name, reveling in the sound. His fingers twitched again as he raised his hand to her face, cupping the smooth porcelain of her cheek.

CLAIRE

Feeling the dam break, she leaned into his touch. “Bha mi gad ionndrainn.”

His hand sunk into her hair, pulling her to him. Grasping his forearms, she pressed her forehead to his. “I’ve missed you, too.”

His breath was heated against her cheek, a faint scent of whisky lingered between them. Her fingers slowly lifted to trace the line of his jaw, the stubble coarse against her skin. They settled just below his jawline, feeling his pulse quicken against her fingertips. Tentatively, she lifted his face to meet hers, and it was breathtaking. Dark flecks interrupted the turbulent blue in his eyes, and they trained on hers with a weight that ignited a fire in her chest.

“I would like-” he started, his voice raspy and raw. His skin was almost vibrating with need. “-Very much to kiss you. May I?”

An ache pulled deep in her belly as she struggled to focus on the words- the anticipation filling her senses. Struggling to focus, she blinked hard and smiled, “You may.”

His fingers intertwined in her hair as he leaned in, soft yet firm. With a final sigh, she closed her eyes and tilted her chin to meet his. His lips were warm and full, quickly molding to hers. With two more movements her tongue was tracing his lip and as she felt them part, she pushed against him with arms snaking around his neck.

Tongues pulsed and kneaded against each other as her hands found his hair as his arms circled around her waist. His fingers urgently sought her skin, pressing into the flesh at the small of her back as she arched into him. The aching need of the past weeks melted away with every movement and every ragged breath between them.

JAMIE

Every thought scattered. There was nothing but her. She filled every sense. The lavender of her shampoo, the velvety touch of her skin against his fingertips as he pulled her closer, the sound of her exhale as she reignited their kiss. He needed her now.

For all the time and distance and tentative silence that had grown between them, speaking was now unnecessary.

He needed to show her the way he loved her. Struggling for composure, one hand snaked up into her hair and he pulled back his lips and held her in place.

Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed and beautiful. Her eyes were a fiery gold and glistened with a thin film of tears.

Sorcha.

Sassenach.

Claire.

She was his, he was hers. Shattered apart, a beautiful mosaic of both pain and triumph together. They fought for this. They earned this.

Her breath was shaky but her voice was calm, “Will you have me?”

The gold specks in her eyes burned like embers as she held his gaze. His skin pulsed with electricity as her fingers lifted the tartan to cover his shoulders. Leaning forward and gently lowering her to the ground, he felt the soft warmth of her body beneath her and he knew he was home. She was home to him.

“Yes,” he whispered as the heat in his chest reverberated out into his fingertips.

He would have had her, any part of her, in any way he could- even the quiet, timid moments of the past few weeks where he had scarcely dared to touch her. But here, now, he saw that each crack and fracture she had endured had only healed stronger. Made more beautiful by the very lines of black etched into her skin, the flap of a heron’s wing flashed before his eyes before fading into the vision of her face.

He pressed against her as he lowered his face to hers. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

Now and forever.

#STAY fic #outlander #outlander fic #fan fic #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #holy shit i did it

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mirdaniaa · 3 years ago

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remember in outlander when jamie married laouurreighe and had to pay her alimony when claire came back and he was like oh i know where to get the money, from the BURIED TREASURE i found on SELKIE ISLAND when i was IN PRISON and then young ian swims across the bay to get the treasure but RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT some slavers land on the island to take the treasure and they take young ian to the caribbean where he becomes the sex slave and planned sacrifice of geilis so she can use his blood and the treasure to travel through time and jamie and claire have to travel across the world to rescue young ian and they kill geilis and it’s revealed that she’s a skeleton claire examined in the 1960s and claire knows this because she’s a psychic for approximately 5 seconds

this show sounds so fake but somehow it’s real

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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago

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Something in the Rain - “Situations”

A/N: WHAT?! BACK TO BACK UPDATES?! Yes, you're not dreaming, it is happening and even I, am surprising myself. I'd like to thank you all for the support even though I haven't written in a while. I've never received much more heartfelt messages and comments. With much encouragement, this next chapter wrote itself quickly. :) I hope you like it. As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground

XXXXX

“Are we on for lunch next Friday?” she asked, three blocks away from her home.

“Actually, I’ll be going on a two week business trip to London.” Jamie answered. “I need to look at our office down there, catch up with our staff and clients”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mention it earlier. But my schedule is going to be cramped.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s work!” Claire bumped his arm with her elbow. “Message me when you’re back and settled and let’s catch up then.” she followed, hoping to keep communication lines open in line with what seems to be a long break.

“I will.” Jamie noted that offer. “How about you? How is your week looking?”

“Uhm, between my rounds, surgeries, and department duties” Claire counted with her fingers for emphasis. “My days are pretty much full. Lunch, late evenings and the weekends are generally my free times.” The answer also serves as an indirect information Claire hoped Jamie would figure out about how unpredictable her time and availability is.

A brief silence and then Claire asked the question that was on her mind since the afternoon. “Erm, why didn’t you tell me you were popular?”

“What?” Jamie chuckled. “What is the world are ye talking about?”

“It has come to my attention that you, Jamie Fraser, apparently, is one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors.” Claire said and Jamie groaned.

“Ugh, how’d you find out?”

“Geilis mentioned it earlier. Apparently, there are magazine pictures that I should see. She’s showing me her copy on Monday.” she added, earning another joking sigh. “I wondered why it never came up and/or why you didn’t tell me?”

“One, I thought you, at least, knew. I mean, it was in a national magazine. Second, it’s not the first thing I share with the people I meet. How would you feel if I said, ‘Hi, I’m Jamie Fraser, did you see my photo on Tatler?” he saw her tilt her head and stick her tongue in feign disgust. “Exactly.”

“I guess that’s a valid point. Still - I guess, I’d rather knew about myself first or you.”

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. It just comes with working at a local, historic business, keeps us afloat, ye know. I’ll warn ye ahead of time of any write-ups about me out there.”

“What’d ye call me?” Claire stopped walking.

“Hmmm?”

“You called me a Sassenach?” she raised her eyebrow.

“Aish, it’s not as bad as ye think it means. It just means Englishwoman, an outlander, not from Scotland.” Claire didn’t look convinced, forcing Jamie to explain further. “It was my first thought about ye when you slipped under my umbrella. I guess it kinda stuck and is what I’ve been calling ye in my head.”

“Mhmm, alright.” She shook her head and smiled. “This is me”

Jamie looked at the Georgian building and took note of the place and surroundings. “I guess, I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“I’ll see you in two weeks” Claire waited briefly if Jamie had anything else to say or do but when he didn’t move, it was her cue to leave. “Bye, then.”

“Bye.” Jamie watched Claire enter her home and when she was safely in, he walked back to his car, berating himself if he missed a big opportunity.

Claire reached the emergency room and immediately asked for a patient in the nurse’s station. “Tammas Baxter?”

“Bed 4” She quickly went to where the nurse pointed and opened the curtain to find a pale, sickly, boy, a frightened grandma, and a fidgety young lady.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Claire Beauchamp and I’ll be checking on Tammas today. Are you his family and what seems to be the problem?” She asked the ladies on the other side of the bed as she examined his physical state.

“Yes, we are. I’m Mrs. Fitz, his grandma and this is Laoghaire, his cousin. He came home from school this afternoon and just started vomiting and developing a head and stomachache.”

Claire leaned down and smelled Tammas, having a hunch already on what the boy might be going though but she needed to confirm. “Tammas, my name is Claire. I know you’re in pain right now but I need you to tell me something so we know what medicine to give you, okay?” The boy nodded weakly.

“Did you eat this?” Claire shared a photo on her phone and despite his frailty, everyone saw the panic in his eyes looking from Claire to his grandma. Claire looked at the old lady as she soothed rather than scold her grandson, telling her he was in no trouble and just needed to tell the truth. With that, the boy turned to Claire and gave a nod to confirm her suspicions.

“Thank you, good lad.” Claire patted the boy and proceeded to order her treatment to the nurses. “Get blood and urine samples, hang an IV and start to give him a dose of anti-poisoning”

After getting a clear from the nurses, Claire invited his guardians outside to explain his situation better. “Hi, Mrs. Fitz, was it?” the older lady confirmed and she proceeded to explain the situation. “Tammas ingested a plant called Lily of the Valley. It is incredibly poisonous and you made the right decision to bring him in immediately. We caught it at the right time and we’ll treat him with fluids and medicine and we’ll observe him in the next couple of days until his situation improves. He’ll be just fine.”

Mrs. Fitz sighed in relief and then hugged Claire which she returned. As a pediatric surgeon, she’s already used to these moments but it always warms her heart when it happens. Mrs. Fitz then asked her niece to check on admitting Tammas and left. They checked on Tammas again, the boy now asleep after being medicated.

“I’ll check up on him before my shift ends. I’ll ask the nurses to page me if anything changes on his condition.” Claire said, signing his chart and placing it back on the caddy.

“Thank ye, Doctor.”

“Please call me Claire”

“Ye know, it was my nephew who told me to go straight to the ER and look for Dr. Beauchamp. He didn’t mention, though, that Dr. Beauchamp was a pretty lady.”

A blush threatened to creep Claire’s cheek but she kept her composure. “Jamie called ahead as well, told me that you were coming. I was free and was able to come down to the ER. I’m happy to help”

“And how did ye know it was poisoning right away?”

“I dabble in medicinal herbs sometimes. The plant has a distinct smell that I picked up while I was examining him. Jamie also had a hunch and told me about a tradition with the boys about eating the plant as a right of passage. Between those two, it kinda showed itself.”

“I see. And how long have ye known Jamie?” Mrs. Fitz found the opening and she took it.

“Not too long.” Claire smiled and answered honestly. Just then, Laoghaire returned with documents for them to sign and she excused herself out.

As Mrs. Fitz finished the paperwork, her thoughts flitted back to Claire. When she asked about Jamie, she somewhat expected the lass to immediately gush all over him as what she’d experienced with his previous affairs.

But what she found, instead, in their short conversation thus far, was a genuineness that was incredibly refreshing to see. She didn’t know the extent of their relationship, yet, but for whatever’s worth, she knew Jamie found a good one.

---

“You were right, it was poisoning. Yep, no - he’ll be fine now, Jamie. We’re treating him and should be able to go home in a few days.” Claire put the phone on speaker as she signed documents in her office. It’s been a week and a half since they last saw each other and due to the nature of their jobs, they’ve texted sporadically, just catching up or checking in, here and there. But, today, the emergency forced them to communicate more directly and urgently to which each of them welcomed.

Jamie was on the other line, wanting to hear the update himself. “I told the lad not to do it and he still did. Mrs. Fitz might not have a thing to say anymore to him but I might have”

“Like you were not a ten year old that broke the rules before.” she gruffed.

“Still, my da told on me.”

“Jamie, I’m sure Tammas would have plenty to hear about it by the time you come back.”

She heard a sigh on the other end and she knew she’d saved the lad against more scolding from his family. “Yer right. I’ll just settle for a really, really stern look and not give him his presents”

He can hear her roll her eyes and moved to change the subject. “Who accompanied Mrs. Fitz, Sassenach?”

Claire smiled, still not use to the name but truthfully, she liked it because it came from him. “A granddaughter, I think her name was Laoghaire.”

“I see.” he said plainly and Claire caught on.

“Anything you’d like to share?” she pressed but instead the call ended and rang again, this time a video call.

Claire was surprised but took a quick look at her mirror and accepted the call.

“Yes?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how are ye”

“You called after I mentioned Laoghaire. That is suspicious.”

“There’s nothing to tell other than, she might have a wee crush on me, Sassenach.”

“A wee crush. That explains the weird look she gave me earlier today.”

“What weird look?”

“Like she was sizing me up or something. Didn’t last long, though, Mrs. Fitz had her do all the errands earlier.

It was Jamie’s turn to make a face and shrug. “Don’t let her get to ye, Claire. I’m no interested in her”

“Oh yeah? Why so?” she quipped back.

“For starters, she isna my type and…”

Claire cut him off, “Alright, alright, no need to say more” a laugh bubbling as Jamie looked so serious on her screen. “Anything else, you need to say, Mr. Fraser? Some of us have to work here.”

She saw Jamie scratch the back of his head, turn red, and hear the shuffling of his feet. “Erm, Claire, would you be free this Saturday evening?”

She looked at her calendar, “My schedule is free so far”

“May I have the pleasure to take you to dinner then?”

“Are you asking me out, James Fraser?” Claire asked, eyeing him adorably. She was not at all surprised that their lunches would eventually become dinners. It was only a matter of time. If they we’re not interested in each other, they had stopped meeting a long time ago.

“Aye.” Jamie replied, anticipating her answer.

“Pick me up at my place around 7:00?”

“It’s a date, then.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #something in the rain #SITR #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #mia writes #TB writes #I cant believe how quickly this next story came #honestly a miracle #thanks to all your encouragement really #it was incredibly heartwarming #i hope you enjoy this one

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