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letters2fiction · 9 months ago

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Welcome to Letters2fiction!

The concept here is to send in a question or a letter request, and you’ll get a response from your fictional character of choice, from the list below. Please stick to the list I’ve made, but of course, you can ask if there’s some other characters I write for, I don’t always remember all the shows, movies or books I’ve consumed over the years and I’m sure I’m missing a lot 😅

Status: New Characters added - Thursday March 21st, 2024

TV SERIES

A Discovery of Witches:

Matthew Clairmont

Baldwin Montclair

Gallowglass de Clermont

Marcus Whitmore

Philippe de Clermont

Jack Blackfriars

Sarah Bishop

Emily Mather

Diana Bishop

Ysabeau de Clermont

Miriam Shepard

Phoebe Taylor

Gerbert D’Aurillac

Peter Knox

Father Andrew Hubbard

Benjamin Fuchs

Satu Järvinen

Meridiana

Law and Order:

Rafael Barba

Sonny Carisi

Joe Velasco

Mike Duarte

Terry Bruno

Peter Stone

Hasim Khaldun

Nick Amaro NEW!

Mike Dodds

Grace Muncy

Kat Tamin

Toni Churlish

Amanda Rollins

Olivia Benson

Rita Calhoun

Casey Novak

Melinda Warner

George Huang

Sam Maroun

Nolan Price

Jamie Whelan

Bobby Reyes

Jet Slootmaekers

Ayanna Bell

Jack McCoy

Elliot Stabler

One Chicago:

Jay Halstead (Could also be Will if you want)

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz

Dante Torres

Vanessa Rojas

Kevin Atwater

Sean Roman

Matt Casey

Kelly Severide

Joe Cruz

Sylvie Brett

Blake Gallo

Christopher Hermann

"Mouch"

Otis

Violet Mikami

Evan Hawkins

Mayans MC:

Angel Reyes

Miguel

Bishop

Coco

Nestor

911 verse:

Athena Grant

Bobby Nash

Henrietta "Hen" Wilson

Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Howie "Chimney" Han

Ravi Panikkar

T.K. Strand

Owen Strand

Carlos Reyes

Marjan Marwani

Paul Strickland

Tommy Vega

Judson "Judd" Ryder

Grace Ryder

Nancy Gillian

Mateo Chavez

The Rookie:

Lucy Chen

Tim Bradford

Celina Juarez

Aaron Thorsen

Nyla Harper

Angela Lopez

Wesley Evers

BBC Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Moriarty

Molly

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Daphne Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Kate Sharma

Edwina Sharma

Marina Thompson/Crane

Outlander:

Jamie Fraser

Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser

Frank Randall

Black Jack Randall

Brianna Fraser

Roger MacKenzie

Fergus Fraser

Marsali Fraser

Jenny Fraser Murray

Ian Murray Sr.

Ian Fraser Murray

Murtagh Mackenzie

Call The Midwife:

Shelagh Turner / Sister Bernadette

Dr. Patrick Turner

Nurse Trixie Franklin

Nurse Phyllis Crane

Lucille Anderson

Nurse Barbara Gilbert

Chummy

Sister Hilda

Miss Higgins

PC Peter Noakes

Reverend Tom Hereward NEW!

Narcos:

Horacio Carrillo

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby

Downton Abbey:

Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham

Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham

Lady Mary Crawley

Lady Edith Crawley

Lady Sybil Crawley

Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham

Isobel Crawley

Matthew Crawley

Lady Rose MacClare

Lady Rosamund Painswick

Henry Talbot

Tom Branson

Mr. Charles Carson

Mrs. Hughes / Elsie May Carson

John Bates

Anna Bates

Daisy Mason

Thomas Barrow

Joseph Molesley

Land Girl:

Connie Carter

Reverend Henry Jameson (Gwilym Lee's version)

Midsomer Murder:

DCI Tom Barnaby

Joyce Barnaby

Dr. George Bullard

DCI John Barnaby

Sarah Barnaby

DS Ben Jones

DS Jamie Winter

Sgt. Gavin Troy

Fleur Perkins

WPC Gail Stephens

Kate Wilding

DS Charlie Nelson

Sergeant Dan Scott

NEW! Once Upon A Time

Regina / The Evil Queen

Mary Margaret Blanchard / Snow White

David Nolan / Prince Charming

Emma Swan

Killian Jones / Captain Hook

Mr. Gold / Rumplestiltskin

Neal Cassidy / Baelfire

Peter Pan

Sheriff Graham Humbert / The Huntsman

Jefferson / The Mad Hatter

Belle

Robin of Locksley / Robin Hood

Will Scarlet

Zelena / Wicked Witch

Alice (Once in Wonderland)

Cyrus (Once in Wonderland)

Jafar (Once in Wonderland)

Gideon

Tiger Lily

Naveen

Tiana

Granny

Ariel

Prince Eric

Aladdin

Jasmine

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Hercules

Megara

Tinker Bell

Merida

Red Riding Hood

Mulan

Aurora / Sleeping Beauty

Prince Phillip

Cinderella

Prince Thomas

NEW! The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore

Caroline Forbes

Elena Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Enzo St. John

Niklaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Freya Mikaelson

Finn Mikaelson

Mikael

Esther

Marcel Gerard

Davina Claire

MOVIES

The Pirates of the Caribbean:

Captain Jack Sparrow

Barbossa

Will Turner

Elizabeth Swann

James Norrington

Kingsman:

Merlin

Harry Hart

Eggsy Unwin

James Spencer / Lancelot

Alastair / Percival

Roxy Morton / Lancelot

Maximillian Morton / The Shepherd

Orlando Oxford

Jack Daniels / Whiskey

Gin

BOOKS

Dreamland Billionaire series - Lauren Asher:

Declan

Callahan

Rowan

Iris

Alana

Zahra

Dirty Air series - Lauren Asher:

Noah

Liam

Jax

Santiago

Maya

Sophie

Elena

Chloe

Ladies in Stem - Ali Hazelwood books:

Olive

Adam

Bee

Levi

Elsie

Jack

Mara

Liam

Sadie

Erik

Hannah

Ian

Fourth Wing - Rebecca Yarros:

Xaden Riorson

Dain Aetos

Jack Barlowe

Rhiannan Matthias

Violet Sorrengail

Mira Sorrengail

Lillith Sorrengail

Bodhi Durran

Liam Mairi

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firegoddess96 · 1 year ago

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Bean duine briste

(Wife of a Broken Man)

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser x Female OC

*I own only the OC, all other characters belong to the creators of Outlander*

Summery:

Having served with Claire as a nurse in WWII, Isla went with Claire and Frank to Scotland to see her mother’s home country. Her aunt Mrs.Baird told her stories of the stones and both Isla and Claire went to see for themselves the magic of the place. Neither expected to be transported 200 years into the past, nor did they expect to fall for rough and ruggedly handsome highlanders.

Will the women get back to their time and the loved ones they left behind, or will they fall too deeply into the strong arms of our favorite Fraser men?

18+ to Read!! (There will be smut down the road!)

Chapter 1:

One the road Claire and Isla traveled from village to village with the rent party. Slowly it dawned on the women that the men they were accompanying were more than just rent collectors, they were in fact Jacobites, supporters of the Stuart prince across the sea.

Night after night Dougal made a show of ripping off Jamie’s shirt to use his scars for their cause, horrifying Isla more that Claire, as she had never seen these scars and wasn’t told the story of his whipping. That first night when Dougal threw the shirt at Claire to mend and she fought him, Isla grabbed it and mended it instead without saying a word. Murtagh was grateful for her kindness and often started to show her small acts of kindness as thanks, after all, Jamie was the man’s heart and soul. So any act towards Jamie affected him greatly.

Every night throughout their journey Isla would mend the torn shirt and find small gifts the next morning. One day it was a few ripe apples and pears, another morning she found a bushel of heather flowers next to her pillow. It wasn’t until one morning, when she woke up to the smell of roasting meat, that she realized who was leaving these sweet gifts. Murtagh finished roasting the freshly caught duck and plated the bird just for her, finally thanking her verbally for the kindness and compassion she was showing his godson. He told her about the incident back at Lallybroch, the attack on young Jenny, the whipping, and the consequent death of Jamie’s father at the sight of it. Isla understood a little more of the stoic and quiet man after he shared the story, she realized the man held a strong love and loyalty to the young man who he followed everywhere.

They all continued their travels for a few more weeks, Claire tending to minor wounds with Isla’s help. Isla continued to mend the shirt when it was torn, and Murtagh spent more time with Isla, sharing meals and stories, until the day the English officer showed up at one of the villages. Claire had gotten drunk with some of the local wives and had made a scene trying to steal a goat back from the rents to help a mother feed her baby. And that was how Dougal arrived with Claire and Isla in the company of British officers telling stories of how they came to Scotland, planning their journey home. A plan cut short by the appearance of Black Jack himself.

Once again attacked by the vicious man, Claire being almost assaulted again, and Isla bruised and concussed. Dougal stormed in and took them away, stopping at a stream to make the women drink from a foul smelling river. Isla recognized it as the truth river, lies were said to burn the throat once one drinks from the stream. They both drank and both told him that they were not spies and simply came here by accident. Dougal, finally believing them, told them the only solution he could think of for their current predicament, for the two woman to marry Scotsmen and become Scottish citizens.

Back at the camp the other men are made aware of what happened….

“So, I have made up my mind about Mrs, Beauchamp, Jamie you will marry the lass. She’s a good woman, smart and Bonnie. And I ken ye are fond of the lass.” Dougal told Jamie, causing a blush to form on his face and the teasing laughs from the other men as they had all seen his interest in her.

“As for Ms Burns…” Dougal starts “I’ll marry the lass” Murtagh interrupts, staring expressionless at the chieftain.

“Will ye now? Well, I guess that will do fine, if the lass will have ye.” Surprised that the stoic man would take an interest in marrying a woman, after all, he had see murtagh fawn over his sister Ellen for years. It was hard to imagine another capturing his heart in the same way.

Across the field Claire and Isla sat discussing the new turn their lives were about to take.

“I feel like I am betraying Frank.” Isla’s heart broke for Claire, she had after all met frank and knew of the love they had shared. But it was looking more and more like they would never make it home to their own time. Isla knew that living in the past meant that they needed protection, and the only way to get that now was a husband. Isla had also seen the glances shared by Claire and her soon to be husband, knew that they could grow to love one another and be happy, which is all she wanted for her friend.

“Claire, Jamie is a kind and caring man, he would never hurt you and he’d continue to protect you. I know you love Frank, and he loves you, which is why he would understand. Frank researched this time, it was his specialty, and he would understand that the only way for you to stay alive and safe is to marry someone else. The man would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, he would want this for you.”

“What about you? You never mentioned anyone, is there someone you had back home? A man waiting for you?”

“God no! I’ve actually never been in a serious relationship, I’ve had the odd date here and there, but it never really went anywhere. None of them struck that spark, you know?”

“I do. Do you know who Dougal picked for you by chance? I didn’t hear him say.”

“No, he didn’t. At least you already know who you’re husband is going to be. And you know what to expect, I’ve never been with a man intimately, and now I don’t even know who I will be expected to sleep with.” A blush rose in her cheeks at the thought of a certain rugged highlander in her bed.

A silence lulled between the women, which shortly after was interrupted by Jamie and Murtagh walking towards them across the field.

“May I have a word lass?” Murtagh’s asked Isla causing her blush to deepen.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later Claire.” She followed Murtagh into the near by woods, heart racing trying to keep her emotions and hopes in check.

“What is it Murtagh? Is something wrong? Did Jamie not agree to marry…”

“No lass, it’s not about that. Jamie will marry Claire, he agrees tis a good match. And he is ver’a fond of the lass.” He cleared his throat and stared fidgeting with his hands nervously.

“What’s wrong Murtagh?”

“It’s actually yer predicament which I wished to discuss Ms Burns.” Her brows creased questioningly at the sudden formality. “I wish to offer my hand as the solution to your problem. If ye would have me, I’d me honored to have ye as my bride.” A blush rose on his face so deep it was vibrant through his dark beard.

“Why are you offering Murtagh? Not that It is an unwelcome offer, quite the opposite actually.” His eyes widen in shock, believing that she would reject his offer, “But I will not say yes if you are doing this purely for kindness, like all the gifts you have given me.” Isla felt like she had just put her foot in her mouth and ruined her chance of getting the man she wanted, but she needed to know that he was choosing her for the right reasons.

“Isla, lass, have ye not realized? I have wanted ye since the night I first saw ye. “He grabs her chin and makes her look him in the eye. “Bonnie thing, with curves in all the right places, with that giant backside pressed right against me rocking the whole ride home” he growls stirring something in her. “Mind ye, it’s not just yer body I want, no lass, ye have made me want yer heart as ye have clearly stolen away wi’ mine. Yer kindness, to even the most cruel and distant of strangers. That someone would heal her captures and help a man w’out asking of his past.” His rough hand caresses her cheek as her eyes stared at him, with pure love and adoration, tear up at his sudden declarations.

“Isla, If ye will have me, I will protect ye and love ye, as I ne’er thought I’d love again. If ye say yes, ye will have all o’ me. What do ye say lass?” His eyes travel from her eyes to her lips, waiting for her answer. She leans in to him, like magnets they come together, their lips barely touching.

“Yes” he crushes her body to him as he passionately kisses her. She responds in kind one hand on his neck, the other combing up into his hair pulling him closer still. His hands wander along her curves, on her lower back in an attempt to bring her closer yet, while his other hand traveled further south over her hip and cupping her buttock firmly, causing a yelp which he happily devoured from her lips.

Reluctantly he pulled himself away, laughing at her lips chasing his. A blush deepening to a vibrant rose on her cheeks and a glazed look in her eyes.

“Dinna fash lass, ye will get more soon. But ye will be mine when ye do, and ye will no’ be leaving my side once ye are.” Murtagh whispers in her ear making her shiver and clench her thighs. Her response didn’t escape his notice, and his eyes darkened with lust at just how responsive his little bunny really was.

“Let’s get back to everyone and plan the joint ceremony, shall we lass?” Isla nodded and followed Murtagh back towards the clearing when they planned a joint ceremony with Jamie, Claire hiding somewhere until she had to be married the next day.

See you at the wedding….

#murtagh fitzgibbons fraser #murtagh x reader #murtagh #fergus fraser #jamie fraser #claire fraser #james alexander malcolm mackenzie fraser #outlander

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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ever green, evermore | 3. baby steps.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

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summary | loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

characters | caretaker!jake jensen, daddy!ari levinson, wrenley beauchamp (original character)

warnings | mentions/depictions of domestic and sexual violence, mental health themes: anxiety/panic disorders, trauma and post-traumatic-stress, eating disorders (restrictive subtype), therapeutic methods and tools: exposure, age regression.

Though maybe to outsiders they would seem an odd pair, it didn't take long for Jake and Wren's friendship to grow. It was gradual at first; the girl liked to go for a bike ride most days during the week, and on a few occasions, when the timing was right, she’d catch Jake as he worked away in the garden. He was always happy to see her, enthusiastically inviting her to join him as he tended to the plants. She was so shy at first, meekly offering her help and advice, but as time passed she was able to grow more and more comfortable around the pleasant man. It wasn’t difficult. He was just so friendly, and it helped that she knew he was understanding of her condition.

At the end of their fifth morning together in the garden, Jake offered to exchange numbers. “This way, I can let you know when I’ll be around- and maybe I’ll reach out if I ever need some help troubleshooting,” he had explained with a slight laugh. He could tell Wren wasn’t used to being asked for her number by the way her eyes went wide with what almost seemed like wonder, and she was quick to agree. “Now I can text you!” she had beamed softly, seeming so elated at the thought. “Yeah, anything you want,” Jake had told her, finding her innocent joy in the idea so precious, “doesn’t even have to be gardening-related. Or you can call, too! It’ll be nice to have a way to reach each other.”

And so it became a sort of routine: a few days a week, Jake would shoot Wren a text in the evening letting her know he planned to garden the next morning. And the following day, she’d show up, bright-eyed and eager to be of whatever assistance she could. Sometimes she brought treats to share in the little basket on the back of her bike, baked goods and freshly-squeezed fruit juices that were perfectly refreshing in the balmy heat of the summer sun. She’d always bring a few extra too, sealed nicely in craft bags tied with frilly ribbons and bows. “For your husband, Mr. Ari.” she’d tell Jake each time. The older man was always delighted to receive the gifts, and wished he could meet the young girl to express his thanks, but he respected Jake’s wishes to let her meet him in her own time when she was ready. Jake had explained early on that she was a little flighty and nervous to meet new people; when he made the comparison to Claire, Ari was quick to understand that it would probably be a while before he got to meet the little garden fairy. And though he longed to, especially given how much his husband seemed to adore her, he was sympathetic to her hesitancy. Every once and a while, Jake would ask his friend if she'd like to come in and have some juice or tea. "Ari can't wait to meet you," he was sure tell her, but Wren was always quick to shrink back at the mention of his husband. Jake did his best to coax her, telling her in all the ways he could think of how nice and gentle Ari was. But deep down, he knew it was probably just something that would take working up to.

At times when he wasn’t too busy with his work, the doctor would sometimes lurk in the kitchen and look out at the two friends from the window, always so mesmerized by the girl he had never met. At first, when Jake had told him that she really was a fairy-like little creature, Ari thought he might be exaggerating. But the second he saw her for himself, he was proven mistaken. She was about as fairytale-esque as she could be, in those innocent summer dresses she so often wore, shimmering hair always done up in intricate twists and braids. “She looks like a princess,” was the first comment he had made to Jake. Without even trying, she had both of the men enthralled; they had never seen anything like her before.

One afternoon as the couple sat in the house’s rear sunroom, enjoying the gentle breeze from the open windows along with each other’s company, Ari couldn’t help but try at a conversation as he sipped from his sweating glass of iced tea. “So, what’s she like?”

Scooting a bit closer to his husband as they shared the beige wicker sofa, Jake’s voice was soft as he replied, “She’s wonderful. You’re really gonna love her.” Ari nodded in response, wrapping his arm back around Jake’s neck to pull him in for a snuggle. Leaning his head on the broad man’s shoulder, the blonde let out a contented sigh. “I wonder where she learned to garden like that. She told me she doesn’t have any space for one at home; maybe it was something she did growing up.”

“She lives over the hill, right?” Ari asked, vaguely remembering some brief details that had been mentioned in earlier conversations.

Nodding, Jake reached for Ari’s free hand as it sat resting on his thigh, intertwining their fingers with a gentle squeeze. “With her boyfriend. She never says much about him- I can’t even remember if she’s dropped a name.”

“He’s working while she does school?” the older man confirmed as he ran his thumb over the back of his partner’s hand, the gesture a mindless habit that Jake was quite used to and appreciative of.

“Yeah, I think he’s got a job in town.”

“Must pay pretty well, if he’s able to support the both of them. Good on her for getting her degree, d’you know what she’s studying? Oh- what was it…” Ari’s voice trailed off as he combed through his brain, “…some kind of art degree, right?”

“Yep,” Jake confirmed, his eyes drifting to one of the windows where a little brown bird had landed on the birdfeeder hanging off of the roof, “man, I wish I had some sort of artistic tendency. Sounds way more fun than running a government help desk.”

“You know you could leave at any time,” Ari reminded him as his head lowered to plant a gentle kiss against the blonde’s hair. “The second you stop liking what you do, I hope you’ll put in your notice. We’re all set, honey. No need for you to keep at a job that doesn’t interest you.” Nodding silently, Jake knew his husband was telling the truth. Due to how successful the doctor had been in his few practicing years, the couple was more than well off financially; if they wanted to, they could both retire on the spot and live out the rest of their lives comfortably in their home. Ari was always very clear with Jake that he would never go unprovided for, but in the end, something kept the younger man in his position. Though it could be brutal at times, he did ultimately enjoy the work. He enjoyed being in on the cardinal operations, and he liked to believe that the labor he did was somehow making the world a better place, a safer one.

“I know,” Jake hummed softly, turning and lifting his head slightly. “When I stop loving it, I’ll leave. Promise.”

“Good,” Ari breathed through a smile. There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a question that circled the conversation back to the topic of Jake’s new friend. “Has Wren mentioned what she wants to do after school?”

Jake’s expression tempered at the question. “Told me she wants to be a teacher. Little ones- kindergarten, I think she had said. They’ll just adore her.”

“Well, she’ll certainly look the part,” Ari noted with a chuckle. “Whenever I’m able to catch a glance of you two through the window, I’m always impressed by her wardrobe.” Jake nodded in agreement; it was true that the girl had quite an impressive sense of style. On the days she wasn’t in a dress, she usually wore long skirts that fell to her ankles and delicate lace tops with soft colors and patterns.

“She makes her own clothes,” Jake commented, earning a raised brow from his partner. “All those dresses- her skirts, I think, too. She’s knitting me a sweater for fall.”

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Ari sighed. Lifting his head up to kiss the dark-haired man’s cheek, Jake nodded.

“Really somethin’,” he repeated back. “I wanna ask her soon if she’ll come in and meet you. I know you want to thank her for all the goodies she’s brought.” Lifting his hand from the blonde’s side, Ari brushed Jake’s hair back from his face as he nodded. “I don’t know how it’ll go over. The few times I’ve suggested it, she’s seemed pretty hesitant still.”

“Do you know much about her condition?” Ari softened his voice to ask. “Is she like Claire; did something happen?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t asked,” Jake admitted, earning an understanding nod from his partner. “A lot of what helps Claire has been helpful with her; I do know that much. Patience, reassurance, the grounding exercises-” with a hint of sadness shining in his eyes, he told Ari, “it broke my heart a little, the first time we met. She told me she had never met someone who knew how to help her like that.”

“Poor thing,” Ari shook his head at Jake’s words. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I think it helped when I told her about Claire; she seemed comforted by the fact that I understand her difficulty. I was hoping it might help to tell her that you specialize in this sort of thing, but I'm not sure how much it swayed her," Jake frowned. "If anything, it only seemed to make matters worse; I don't think she's very fond of doctors." At the blonde's estimate, Ari offered a compassionate nod.

Before Jake could say more, a faint buzz coming from his pocket caught the pair off guard. Reaching down to grab the device, he chuckled softly as he read the screen. “Speaking of which, that was her just now. She wants to know if she can bring over some muffins- last time I saw her, she was telling me about the new recipe she’s been wanting to try.”

"Today?" Ari asked, sitting up a bit against the worn couch cushions. Jake nodded. "Why don't you invite her in, then?" he proposed. "I could take the rest of the afternoon off."

Quirking his brow as he tapped out a response to the girl, Jake nodded again as he pressed send. "I'll ask when she gets here," he decided. "You need help wrapping up in the meantime?"

Smiling playfully at the blonde, Ari reached up to fuss his sweetheart's hair. "Sure do, mister. I got all those heavy boxes in the study- need a big, strong man to help me pack 'em up in the closet."

"Oh, you poor, helpless thing," Jake rolled his eyes with a grin, swatting at the older man's hand as it came to brush over his bicep (that both of them knew, despite its impressive build, failed to compare to the doctor's god-like physique.) "C'mon, Mr. Muscles," he teased as he dragged Ari up to his feet by his shirt collar. "I'm gonna sit real pretty on those boxes, and you can lift me."

It was only a little while later that Jake found himself standing out in the front yard at the end of the drive, waving at Wren as she approached down the bumpy road on her bicycle. At the sight of her friend, the sweet girl smiled mildly, ringing the soft bell positioned next to her handlebar a few times as a greeting. Slowing down with her brakes as she came to the edge of the driveway, she hopped off the seat with ease. "Jakey," she beamed as she tucked her bike in its usual spot near the mailbox, hitting the kickstand down before running to wrap the man in a loving hug.

"Hey chicky," Jake greeted warmly, rubbing the girl's back a few times as they embraced before pulling back to meet her gaze. "You're lookin' awfully spiffy today- that the new dress you were working on?"

"Yep," Wren offered a shy nod, a hint of a blush beginning to bloom in the corners of her cheeks. "Y-you really like it? I wasn't sure about the fabric," she admitted, glancing down at the rosy corduroy. "It's not really my color..."

"I think it's just stunning, sweetcheeks. That pattern looks so pretty on you." With the kindness of his smile and the shimmering adoration in his eyes, there was no way for the girl to question her friend's sincerity. "Everything you make is gorgeous, honey. You know I think you're just incredible, such a talented girl. And I see you even added a place for Ducky; he looks so happy in his pocket." Jake couldn't help but chuckle softly at the little yellow duck as it sat in the front pouch of the pinafore, its tiny head peeking out adorably. Over his time getting to know Wren, the man had also gotten quite acquainted with the little stuffed animal; there wasn't a time he could remember when the girl had been without it. More than anything, Jake simply found it to be so sweet, just another nod to her endearing innocence.

As her expression swelled with gratitude, Wren pulled the doting boy in for another quick hug. "Thank you, Jakey. You're always so sweet to me," she gushed. It was true, and the further truth was: he simply couldn't help it; there was just something about the strange girl from down the street that turned the man straight to mush.

“I’m excited to try your recipe," Jake smiled at her as she retrieved her wicker basket from the back of her bike. Together, the pair made their way over to the bench they usually shared.

"Oh, they turned out so yummy, Jakey- I-I think you're really gonna love 'em," Wren enthused as she took a seat, placing the basket in her lap. "They're raspberry cream, with just the tiniest drizzle of lemon-... o-oh," she paused as she looked up to see her friend who was sitting beside her on the edge of the bench. Jake's face was now washed over with hesitancy; he wasn't exactly sure how to approach the subject at hand. "J-Jakey?" the girl's voice was now diminished to just a hair above a whisper.

"Hey cutie," the blonde began, trying his best not to drag out his words. "Say... Ari and I were talking earlier, and we were wondering if..." At the older man's name, Wren visibly shrunk back. "Sweetheart, we're wondering if you'd like to come in and say hello. We have fresh lemonade in the fridge, if you're interested. We could all sit and snack together- what do you think, buggy?"

Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat, Wren's big eyes peered warily up at Jake. At the sight of her bottom lip beginning to tremble helplessly, he couldn't bear not making an attempt at soothing the poor girl's distress. "Hey," he hummed lowly, his brow raised in sympathy, "remember what I told you, honey? Ari's such a sweet man, there's no need to be scared. And I'll be right there with you, sweetie. 'Member?" At the distrust not yielding in the slightest from her expression, Jake tried to reason, "He knows this is hard, bub; we both do. He's gonna be so patient and kind, I promise you."

Taking in a shaky breath, Wren struggled to find her words. "G-go in and... today? You mean... n-now?"

Offering her a reassuring smile, Jake nodded. "Yeah, as soon as you're ready. He's waiting just inside for us."

Stealing a glance over at the house, the girl gulped once more. She had never been inside before; in fact, she hadn't even seen the front door. Though it was the main entrance to the house, it sat tucked into the building's left side, framed by a nice little porch that she hadn't ever stepped foot on. With her gaze surveying the worn path that lead from the end of the drive and the garden to the front door, Wren's eyes drooped doubtfully.

"Hey sunshine," Jake murmured, gently trying to regain her attention. "What d'you say we just give it a try, hm? Just a try, and if it's too much and we can't do it today, that's okay." Reaching out a careful hand, he found the girl's knee, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. With a faint sniffle, it seemed all Wren could manage was a nod. Mild guilt settled into Jake's stomach as he noticed the thin layer of tears his friend was blinking back. He recognized the look on her face, the subtle shiftiness of her gaze as she looked from him to the house, to her bike, and back to him; she wanted to run. But thankfully, for whatever reason, she didn’t. Warmly, Jake smiled, "You're bein' so brave, honey. C'mon, I'll carry your basket. You wanna hold my hand?"

As the blonde rose to his feet again beside the reluctant girl, he held his hand out to her, his gentle gaze full of concern as she eyed his movements warily. With his other hand, Jake slowly took the basket off of Wren's lap. "C'mon sweetheart, you can meet the cat, too. How's that sound?" The small girl's eyes widened slightly at the offer; she had heard so much about Socks, the little black cat with snowy white paws. "You can give him a treat if you want. That's usually the quickest way to win him over," Jake laughed softly as he tried to lighten the mood.

After another shaky breath, Wren managed to take her friend's hand and join him in standing; she was quick to glue herself to his side. With a proud smile, Jake kept encouraging her, "There you go, bub. You're doin' so good. We can just take it one step at a time; there's no rush."

And just as the man's words had suggested, Wren really did end up taking it step by painful step as the pair struggled ahead, barely seeming to make it more than an inch at a time. Jake didn't mind in the slightest; he saw how hard the poor girl was fighting herself to just keep moving forward. With one little hand locked in tightly with his, she kept the other balled up in a fist over her chest, as if she were already bracing herself for the dangers that could lie ahead. With his brow raised in sympathy, Jake tried to keep his heart from breaking. What's scared her so bad, to make her act like this? What's happened to her? Who did she meet that was so unkind?

He wasn't certain it was someone, but he had his suspicions. There was just something about her condition, the way it presented itself; it felt different from Claire. While his sister tended to grow upset over situations and circumstances, Jake had noticed that more than anything, it was people that really made Wren scared. He hoped that some of the same methods of alleviating the anxiety might help, though. In its own way, this push to meet Ari was a little like the exposure therapy Claire had gone through as a kid. Thinking of it this way, he had no problem staying as calm and patient as he did. In this moment of such intense fear and uncertainty, Jake really did his friend like a small, scared child, in need of comfort and reassurance.

"You're okay, honey. I'm right here, I got you. Doin' so good, 'm so proud of you, chicky," he hummed softly as the two of them finally made it to the top of the drive, where the path up to the porch began. Lifting her head warily, Wren's wide eyes settled on the front door. From where they stood, she could see how the outer storm door sat just the tiniest bit ajar. Silently, she came to a halt. As Jake gazed down at her gently, she swallowed hard. "Oh sweetie," the man cooed sadly as he saw her biting back tears.

Taking a moment to set the basket off to the side, Jake crouched before his friend, the concern on his face growing as she lowered her head and drew back from him. Eyes now glued to the ground, Wren took a shakey breath in preparation to speak. But when she opened her mouth, she couldn't manage to make a sound, her bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably as she began to cry.

“Wren,” Jake crooned. With his free hand, he reached out to push the girl’s hair back from her face, but was quickly stopped by her jerking back at the gesture. Wincing her eyes shut, the poor thing whimpered weakly. “Hey…” Jake’s face contorted further with concern at her reaction. “Bubba, you’re okay. Look at me, honey.”

“Please,” was all she could manage, her voice so small Jake had to lean further in to hear it. “P-please Jakey, can… please...”

“Wren,” he said again, bringing his hand down to hold both of the girl’s in both of his, “what do you need, sweetheart? How can I help?” Sniffling, she wrapped her little fingers around his thumbs, squeezing gently.

“Please, just…” Jake wanted so badly to wipe the sweet girl’s tears away, but knew better than to bring his hands near her face again. The seemingly conditioned response he received at his attempt only grew the worry he was already harboring deep down; he didn’t even want to think about the implications that came along with that kind of reaction. “P-please, maybe can… please wait, please…”

“Okay, sweet thing. We can wait a sec,” the kind man nodded understandingly. With a soothing tone, he continued to murmur, “Just take some breaths with me, cutie. You’re okay, Wren. You’re safe.”

“I… h-he… p-please Jakey,” she hiccuped through her tears, her voice swelling slightly in urgency.

Furrowing his brow further, Jake tried to coax more words out of the small girl. "He what, bubba? Can you tell me what you're scared of, Wren?"

Wide eyes darting back and forth between her friend who sat before her and the front door to the house, Wren hummed a feeble whine as she fought herself to find her voice again. "P-please, too scary," was all she could manage.

Nodding gently, Jake let out a saddened sigh, understanding it might be time to abandon the attempt altogether. But just as he was about to give into Wren's pleas, the sound of the old, worn latch on the front door opening caused the pair both to look back in surprise.

Taking a single step out onto the porch, Ari was heartbroken to see the girl's tear-soaked cheeks. At the sight of the dreaded man, who was clearly much larger and more intimidating than even she was anticipating, Wren visibly cowered down into herself, her reaction causing both men to pause as they looked at each other, wordlessly trying to figure out how to proceed.

Taking a deep, steady breath, Jake turned back to his friend, his head ducking down slightly as he tried to catch her gaze. "Wren? Sweetheart?" Eyes lowered warily, with her entire body tensed as though she couldn't help but brace herself, Wren flinched harshly at the sound of the blonde's voice. "Honey," he crooned, bringing his arms up to wrap around the girl. He couldn't help it, even as it made the poor thing's tears worsen; at the sight of her looking so terrified, so upset, Jake needed to take her into his arms and hold her. "Little chicky," he murmured gently, rubbing her back as she cried into the safety of his shoulder, "you're okay, sweet thing. How about we call it a day, huh? You did so good, Wren. I know you tried so hard."

Hearing his husband's mild words, Ari's expression softened with sadness. Of course he was hoping today would be the day, but it wasn't the end of the world if he had to wait. More than anything, witnessing the struggle of the girl's condition firsthand just convinced him further that he wanted to help her. Without a single word, Ari stepped back into the house and closed the door behind him, wanting to give Wren the sense of safety with just Jake that she so clearly needed.

Hearing the signals of his partner's retreat, the younger man continued to coo softly as he brushed a soothing hand over the shaking girl's golden locks of hair. "Shhh sweetie- he's gone now, Wren. You're safe- s'just you and me now, darlin'. Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

Peering over her friend's shoulder, Wren wouldn't believe his words until she could see for herself; at the sight of the porch having returned to its original, vacant state, she let out a tremored sigh of relief. "D-deep breaths," she recited, finally feeling safe enough to bring her little arms up to wrap around the kind boy's neck.

Smiling earnestly at the small sign of progress, Jake reached out a hand to grab the picnic basket off the grass before lifting the girl up to carry her with ease. Wren's cheeks flushed faintly as she kept herself tucked away warmly into the crook of his neck. "I gotcha, cutie. C'mon, let's go sit on the bench," Jake suggested, keeping a tight hold on his bashful friend as he carried her back to the safety of the garden.

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#eun's writing #egem #egem: baby steps #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson au #the red sea diving resort #daddy!ari levinson #ari levinson x oc #jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen au #the losers #jake jensen x oc #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson series #jake jensen series #hurt/comfort

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 months ago

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Noorambles strikes again

As we all know, David is your own character. But how did you come to make him? Like what was the thought process, any inspo?

Why is he French? Why’s his name David? Where’d you get his last name from? Was David your rough draft and you ran with it, or was he originally something else? Like different name, nationality, and personality wise?

Out of everyone in the shadow verse, why’d you chose to write about max and make David a part of it ?

Funnily enough, David came out of nowhere.

Most of my other OCs (if not all of them) were born out of a lot of thought and workshopping.

David is what I call an accidental pregnancy lmao but he ended up being my favorite kid. I made a small reference to him when I was writing a ficlet on tumblr years ago and then he just never left my mind...

There wasn't a lot of inspo. David is honestly inspo for what I want to see in the real world. I wish there were more Davids out there.

But for some of your other questions:

He's French because I've always liked France. In school, I studied French history for two years (and yes I impressed my Uber Drivers in Paris by answering their questions lol). David's name came up absolutely randomly (like I said I picked a random name for that ficlet I wrote and I never changed it). But I was so so pleased to learn that the name actually means 'be loved'. HOW COOL IS THAT?

David's last name has a deeper meaning (which we'll learn later), but it was inspired by Claire Beauchamp - a character from the Outlander series whom I loved very much.

A lot didn't change about him in terms of the specific things you mentioned. He really is the original draft. But the David who is now isn't who I thought he'd be at the beginning. But that's the same for any original character I write. The more you write, the better you understand them. Like when I wrote him at first, I didn't think being a father would be an important part of his personality. But now it's kinda most of his personality. He loves his children more than anything and I can see how that came to be considering how he was realized and how much love he kept himself inside himself without having anyone to give it to. He never had any family so when he got one that he could love, he didn't hold back. Those are things I only realized later on. And that's the best part about writing OCs. They keep surprising you!

As for why I write about Mavid the most, I feel closest to them the most. In the same way, I feel and relate to Malec the most in the tsc universe. It's impossible to write about a ship if you don't understand its dynamics on a deep level. I kind of understand Max and David very very deeply - in a way I don't understand Rafael and Anjali or Lance and Theia. Maybe it's because individually as characters, Max and David, are more fleshed out in my brain than anyone else. I assume so anyway :)

#noorambles #my writing

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hesbianspock · 7 months ago

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sgàile

10804 words

by spicyomens

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Outlander (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Frank Randall

Characters: Frank Randall, Jamie Fraser, Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall, Claire Beauchamp

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Incest, as much as something can be incest when one is another’s great great great whatever uncle, Beating, Belting, Internalized Homophobia, internalized ableism, also alternate universe in that homosexuality is tolerated in 17th century scotland, Making Up, basically imagine if frank went back through the stones instead of claire

Summary: a reckoning.

#outlander #frank randall #jamie fraser #black jack randall #fanfic

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margareth-lv · 9 months ago

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🧬 An easy and relaxed approach to life and work 🧬

... it's apparently the least likely quality to be inherited.

Did you see Jeremy Irvine's IG story yesterday?

(I know you all know, of course, but in case you DIDN'T, he plays Henry Beauchamp, Claire's father, in Blood of my Blood)

I have the feeling that all of a sudden we've been transported to the set of a completely different show. It can't be Outlander (in 2024*). So much openness and sincerity of message from an actor playing one of the main characters? That's not how it's done at Starz! Wide shot of the set (standing stones), funny commentary? The freshness? The frankness? And the naturalness? Stay tuned for more quality outlander content?

🤯

I'm shocked.

Isn't it strange, by the way, that this relaxed attitude turns out not to be hereditary at all? Henry Beauchamp's daughter is the exact opposite of her father in this respect. How sad. *** *** ***

And seriously - I wonder how quickly Starz will cut this freshness, this frankness, this kind of reaction. Let's take bets.

*Please forgive me, I've been here since mid-2020 and I've missed everything fresh, natural and exciting about Outlander. I landed right in the middle of a shit show.

[February 6, 2024]

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bel-7823 · 1 month ago

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Desperate for a Dead Man

"Maybe, had that been where they found themselves, they would have talked about it. Maybe they would have opened the book, drunkenly tried a few spells out of desperation, and who knows. Maybe it would have worked."

Lord John and Claire did eventually find themselves in the darkest parts of the night, in a bedroom, and with a lot of whiskey. More importantly, they found themselves desperate, and the English Grimoire of Necromancy offered them their beloved dead man.

Rating: Teen and Up

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey, Claire Beauchamp/Lord John Grey

Characters: Claire Beauchamp, Lord John Grey, Jamie Fraser

Additional Tags: grimoire, Rituals, Summoning, Major Character Undeath, Love Confessions, Happy Ending

Word Count: 3,461

Part of my The English Grimoire of Necromancy Series

#outlander #lord john grey #jamie fraser #claire fraser #Jamie Fraser/lord John grey/claire Fraser #fanfiction #my fanfics #an October fic #fucking finally this shit is out #omg I cannot describe how many times I have been an inch away from posting this and then some mishap went on

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always-outlander · 2 years ago

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Do you have any headcanons for the Outlander characters?

Hi Anon, thanks for this question! What a lovely thing I got to spend some time thinking and writing about. To quote Miriam Webster for those who may not know, a headcanon refers to something that a fan imagines to be true about a character or story even though no information supporting that belief is spelled out in the text.

So yes, definitely do! I mainly like to fill in the blank spaces or passages of time that the show does not cover fully. And because the show and source material span so much time, there are plenty of those. I love the drabbles people write for those reasons, but you asked me specifically for the characters, and my faves are Jamie and Claire so here we go.

Jamie:

Perhaps this is a more commonly discussed one, but my longstanding thoughts about his ghost that we see in the first episode. We know the ghost is Jamie at age 25 per Diana, which is about the time when Jamie fought in the battle of Culloden and had sent Claire back through the stones. We also know Jamie has "sight" and has been able to see his loved ones in the future through visions. Since Claire is from the future, I have always thought that as his sight increases, he likely could see Claire in her time and during her life before she went through the stones and met him.

He has also said countless times that his soul will find Claire's even in death, and that he would endure 200 years of purgatory in order for them to meet again. So I think that at the end of Jamie's life, he uses the knowledge of his 'sight' to send his soul and project himself to the place he knows Claire will be able to reunite with him, which is 1940's Inverness. I have always hoped that it is his appearance as a ghost that triggers the sequence of events in which Claire to goes to the stones, travels through time and meets him. So in my mind, in Jamie's death, he creates a never ending time loop that the two of them are in. (I hope that makes sense).

I also have thoughts pertaining to Jamie's childhood at Lallybroch and all of the adventures he found himself on with his older brother, Willie. They would climb the walls and venture to the furthest stretches of Lallybroch together, pretending to fight in battle or hunt. A five year age gap between the two likely meant that Jamie was often Willie's undesirable shadow, and the two undoubtably would fight.

I think the snake "Sawny" was carved by Willie as a token of respect and thanks following a scare on one of their escapades. The only snakes native to Scotland are venomous Adder snakes, and I bet Jamie saved Willie from being bit by one. To thank him, Willie carved him the snake with his nickname on the back. 'Sawny' is an abreviation or nickname of Alexander (Jamie's middle name). When Willie died of Smallpox in 1727 at age 11, Jamie was only 6. Two years later, Jamie lost his mother and younger brother Robert during the birth. It's no wonder this piece of his adolescence means so much to him and remained with him throughout his life. It was likely the fondest concrete memory he had, given to him when he had won the respect of his brother.

Claire:

I've ALWAYS wanted to have a storyline or a tidbit of information regarding Claire's parents. To me it's strange that Diana never wrote anything about them, or had Claire's character recall something substantial that her uncle might have said about them in the past. For background, Claire was born in London to Henry Beauchamp and Julia Moriston. We know from a small passage in Outlander that Claire looks like her mother, but I've long liked to imagine that Claire gets her fiery personality from her mother as well, who was only 32 when she died in 1923. Her mother's maiden name has Nordic/Scottish roots, while her father comes from French roots. In my head her father came from a more affluent or wealthy background, while her mother was more middle to low class.

Claire was born at the end of World War I in 1918 and I like to imagine that her parents met towards the beginning of the war (closer to 1914). At that time in England, women were beginning to fill the job positions left by men who had gone off to war, and there were countless strikes for equal pay taking place. In my mind Henry was a scholar like his brother who found himself perhaps a bit useless in his profession at the time of the war. Julia would have been in the middle of the women's rights movements and fighting for equal pay, perhaps working as bank teller or clerk. When Claire was born at the end of the war, I imagine she cut back on her hours but maintained some autonomy and retained her job she had spent so long fighting for.

I like to think the two met with a classic meet-cute, where Henry had lived a very privileged life filled with high profile connections forged through his parents and scholarly peers. Julia mistakenly finds herself among his social circle one day and completely knocks his socks off with her candor and forward ways of thinking. She challenged him, and treated him differently than any woman previous. Similar to how Jamie cannot help but adore Claire's outspoken nature, I picture Julia having that same fire and strength which Henry would and could not ignore. I'd read a book about them, I think!

These are just a few, I have PLENTY more but this would quickly become it's own novel :)

#anon #outlander #outlander headcanon #outlander imagine #outlander answers #outlander series #outlander books #outlander book #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire fraser

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

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Through the rabbit hole

Long, lazy Sunday: I am late with the Persian analysis and I apologize to those who were waiting for it. However, I do have an excellent excuse: I found myself unexpectedly engrossed in - hallelujah! can I say hallelujah? - Drums of Autumn, once I finally managed to be done with the very laborious first two chapters.

I continue to find the modern timeline slightly better written than most of the French shenanigans, for reasons I have already explained (yes, it is fiction, but the underuse of that particular trope left me hungry and not in a good way). The 1969 Boston episode (Moon landing included) can easily and will probably be among my favorites: it is short, lively and she does not go overboard with pedantry. Also, to my great surprise (or maybe also because the SS&RR tandem is so cataclysmic in the series), Brianna & Roger are (possibly) way better sketched and, overall, more interesting and endearing in the books. Fun fact: in my mind, they don't even look like the Painful Duo. But J&C look as S&C and whoever tells you otherwise did not watch the series and/or lies.

Unpopular opinion and I will probably get strong reactions to this: book Claire is, at times, insufferable to me. There are (mercifully) fleeting moments when I hear and almost see a poor travesty of Herself in her. If there is one person in this Universe who was ever able to masterfully round those edges and elevate Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall Fraser to legend, well: that is (and I suspect it could only be) C.

Conversely, I once read on a Mordor blog something as idiotically enormous as "Jamie Fraser is, we all know it, a brute and Claire is the only person making him look human". This is Hate 101, transferred from the guy you spew on all day long to the character that guy decisively shaped and gave a destiny to, on screen. Writing such inanities lacks culture, taste and empathy. Jamie Fraser is a brute because he protects his family, whatever the costs? Is he a brute with a deep appreciation for the Greek and Roman Classics? Is he a brute just because he happens to be imagined and given life to in the 18th century Scottish Highlands, a place and time you obviously have no familiarity with, spare these books? And what about the other feminine influences in Jamie's life, that shape his unique sensitivity and understanding of the emotional needs of a 20th century woman, such as Claire? What about Ellen, Jenny, hey even the tiny (blink and you'll miss her) Annalise (dreadful name, Herself) de Marillac? I really pity you, woman. Really do.

All in all, I have no idea about what happened in LAX, other than the kilt apotheosis and the subsequent drooling, fainting and yelling that accompanied it. I still saw many young women in that crowd and I am cautiously betting for less drama, this time. But I do wonder why *urv never shows up at any event in the area, when the effort would be, for her, minimal. Things that make you go hmmm, once again.

A new (hectic) week just started. Onwards.

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drovers1girl-blog · 1 year ago

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With the end of Outlander after season 8, the new series spinoff, Blood of My Blood, a series about Jamie Fraser's parents, will follow. Even though Sam Heughan has stated that it may well surpass the Outlander series, I have huge doubts that is the case. Many fans of the Outlander series, including myself, have already stated that when Outlander is over, we're stepping away, just like Sam and the rest of the cast are stepping away to pursue other things, which is what they obviously want to do. Is this a bad thing? At this point, no it isn't. If they've lost interest in the series and characters they've played for 8 seasons, it's time to move on to other things.

The initial announcement of season 8 being the last season brought about many diverse opinions and emotions from the fans. Some, as usual, who thought themselves to be of a higher station than the rest of the fandom blocked fans that were upset, myself being one of those blocked. The fact is, no, they aren't and never will be at a higher station than any other fan. It would be in their best interest to come to that reality, which I doubt that they will. These "higher station" fans have lived in a constant state of fantasy since whenever it was they discovered Outlander.

In a world where there is so much turmoil, Outlander has given all of the fans an escape from the world and all of its problems for at least an hour every week. The fictional world of one Diana Gabaldon is a true work of art. It brought joy, sadness, history, romance and a whisp of science fiction (time travel) in the books and TV series. The characters were cast perfectly, first with Sam Heughan as Jamie Fraser, and then the long tedious search for Claire (Beauchamp, Randall) Fraser, Caitriona Balfe. The rest of the cast from season 1-7 were simultaneously perfectly chosen.

While I, as a fan, am saddened by the looming end of what I believe to be the most perfect TV series of my long (age withstanding) life, I am grateful to have borne witness to something that, in my opinion, will never be forgotten or be placed on a shelf,never to be heard of again.

The actors will move on to other things they haven't had the opportunity to engage in before, due to the long filming schedules of each season of Outlander. I, personally, wish them all well. I will miss my weekly "fix" of respite from the real world. But as Jamie Fraser told Claire, "Nothing's lost, Only changed". Will I continue to follow their individual continued projects after Outlander? Most likely. Will it be with the same enthusiasm as with Outlander? Well....all I can say is that I don't know at this point.

While all of the actors placed their stamp on the characters they played...one stands out above the rest.....Sam Heughan (Jamie Fraser). He has given his all for this character. He embodied Jamie Fraser totally and unequivocally. Like Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, no one will ever take Sam Heughan 's place as James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.

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cookie-de-baunilha · 1 year ago

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I was thinking about an AU where Percy lives, sorts things out with John and goes back to England (as Beauchamp ofc and the rest of the family also moves to England because of the French Revolution — and maybe they don’t have any heirs so Germain ends up taking the Beauchamp name and continuing the line and that’s how Claire exists BUT I DIGRESS).

So back to Percy. Spy days are over I guess? It would be too risky to start spying for England, even if he is using his married name.

But the Beauchamps are loaded, so now that he has time and money he can focus on becoming a full-time artist (in fact I have a headcanon that after marrying into the Beauchamp family Percy actually dedicated most of his free time to art, so his skills improved a lot during those 20 years).

He could also go back to the bookbinding business since it seems like it was something he liked to do, given that scene in Echo in which he talks about it.

I just like the idea of Percy living a low profile life in England, doing his art and getting into the more artistic/bohemian social circles. Nothing too fancy because he can’t risk someone uncovering his true identity — or maybe that wouldn’t be a problem after 20 years, a wig, a “fake” name and a fake French accent? idk

I just keep thinking that if Percy and John got back together, Percy wouldn’t be able to fit into the English upper crust like he tried to do in Brotherhood. They wouldn’t risk him being recognized. Which could be a point of conflict in their relationship, because they would have to keep it even more hidden than before. Like, they wouldn’t be able to hang out publicly in John’s circles.

But I think about what Diana said about their relationship in Brotherhood: how Percy wasn’t a soldier, but was willing to enter that life with John.

So for this AU I thought that (given the proper character development) John could try to fit into Percy’s life, and not the other way around. They would have to keep things low profile af, but it could work.

I don’t know what John would be doing with his life tbh (seriously what is his job atp in the main series?? Is he just a retired officer?). But he would be doing something and in the meantime he could keep running into mysteries and trying to solve them, and Percy could help him with that too.

Also I imagine them taking a few months off London every now and then and traveling to different places. Maybe they could finally go to Rome together 😭

#just ideas i don’t know how to write #loool #outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #fanfic #percy wainwright #percy beauchamp #lord john grey #john grey #john x percy

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scapegrace74-blog · 2 years ago

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The Man from Black Water, Chapter 18

A/N From this point forward, the story diverges entirely from The Man from Snowy River, which ends when the Jamie character successfully retrieves the lost colt. Since I knew that simply wouldn’t fly, I’ve written Jamie and Claire the ending they both deserve. There is one more chapter to go, plus an epilogue.

Previous chapters can be found on my AO3 page.

Henry Beauchamp tore through Netherton like a hurricane, firing off orders left and right. The carriage was to be prepared to depart, provisions made to acquire two train tickets to Edinburgh and, most alarmingly, Claire’s trousseau was to be packed in a travel trunk.

“Rosemary,” he commanded, still breathing heavily, “you are to take Claire to Dundee and thence by train to the capital. Take this,” he handed over the hundred-pound reward into his sister-in-law’s waiting hand, “and arrange for her marriage. Some merchant’s son who won’t disgrace the Beauchamp name, but who isn’t going to renounce her if it turns out she’s been… sullied.”

“Father, no!” Claire cried from the foyer, where she’d overheard everything. “Jamie is a man of his word. He’ll be back for me in the spring. There is no chance I’m with child. You don’t have to do this!”

Henry ignored his daughter’s pleas, his mind made up. To her surprise, her aunt did not come to her aid, but instead began to pack her own travelling case.

“Aunt Rosemary, please. You have to tell father… I can’t just marry some strange man whose affections can be bought with money! I want to marry Jamie. I love Jamie!”

“Hush child,” Rosemary demurred. “You’re upsetting yourself unnecessarily.”

No matter how vociferously Claire protested, there was no moving either her father or her aunt. Shortly after lunch she was dragged towards the waiting carriage, still protesting loudly.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she vowed to her father, unaware she was repeating her mother’s exact words from twenty years before.

Henry’s jaw was set, but his eyes reflected immense pain.

“I hope one day you’ll realize that everything I’ve done, I’ve done for your future happiness.”

Claire turned away, unwilling to acknowledge her father as he raised his hand in farewell. With a crack of the whip, the carriage began its long journey. Looking out the window, Claire could make out Hamlet grazing placidly in his pasture. Whoever had set him free had the right idea, she thought grimly. Better to suffer in freedom than spend one’s life in a gilded cage.

***

The rolling motion of the carriage and the emotional exhaustion of the day sent Claire into an uneasy sleep. It was the sudden absence of the former that roused her from a strange dream that disappeared like smoke when she opened her eyes. Outside the window, the night was pitch black. A steady rain had begun to fall.

“Where are we?” she asked her aunt, who sat poised on the opposite bench as though awaiting some call to action.

Without warning, the carriage door opened, and a large figure draped in a dark wool shawl stuck its head inside. Claire scurried backwards on the velvet seat with a timid squeak.

“Have ye forgotten me sae quickly then, lassie?” the figure spoke. “An’ after I shared my best whisky wi’ ye too.”

Rosemary lit the oil lamp that hung near the carriage door, and the weathered, whiskered face of Murtagh Fitzgibbons sprang from the darkness.

“Murtagh!” Claire threw herself across the carriage and into the man’s waiting arms. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“Aye, I ken, lass. And if ye come wi’ me, there’s someone who I’ll wager ye’ll be even happier tae see.”

Glancing at her aunt, who nodded in encouragement, Claire stepped carefully down onto the sodden ground. Murtagh held his plaid over her head and guided her towards a nearby structure, slate grey and ominous. It was far too large to be a house, but it was only when the heavy wooden door gave way beneath Murtagh’s shove that she realized it was a simple country church. The inside was illuminated only by several lit tapers on the altar, but their capricious light was sufficient to show the figure of a man kneeling in prayer, his hair mirroring the orange glow of candlelight.

Claire was running down the aisle and into her beloved’s arms before he even had time to stand.

“Sassenach!” he exclaimed, cupping her jaws gently and turning her face towards the candle glow, looking for any sign of injury. Besides the traces of a few dried tears, she appeared unharmed.

“How did you know I was coming?” she sputtered, still disbelieving she was in Jamie’s arms. “I was certain I’d never see you again, and my father…” the rest of the words got clogged in her throat. Jamie made a low hushing sound, like she’d once heard him direct at Hamlet when he was fretful.

“I didna ken ye’d be here. Murtagh insisted on stopping at this wee church. Said we may as well ha’ a roof o’er our heads while we waited fer the weather tae clear. I found it strange, as he’s ne’er fussed o’er goin’ about when its uplowsin afore…”

Jamie petered off, head pivoting towards the back of the church. Murtagh and Rosemary stood side by side in the doorway, wearing twin expressions of smug satisfaction. Claire turned to follow his gaze.

“You knew!” she addressed her aunt with disillusionment tainting her voice. “You let me believe I was going to be forced to marry some stranger in Edinburgh, and all this time, you knew!”

“What?” Jamie interjected, his own temper now rising.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Rosemary appeased. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case the gentlemen weren’t here waiting for us.”

Murtagh grunted, a little perturbed that his devious credentials were being called into question.

“But why here, of all places? Couldn’t we have just met at the nearest crossroads?” Claire persisted.

“Claire…” Jamie’s shock had lifted, and he was looking at his godfather with newfound respect.

“Not now, Jamie. I’m in no mood to be forgiving when they could have…”

“Claire!” he interjected, tugging her by the elbow.

“What?” she spun to glare at him.

“May we have a moment alone, a goistidh, Miss Morriston?”

With a curt nod and a knowing smile, Murtagh led Rosemary back outside. As the door swung shut behind them, Jamie rose from the pew and began to pace.

“This wasna how I promised myself this would go at all,” he muttered loud enough for Claire to hear. Drawing himself up to his full height and squaring his shoulders as though preparing for battle, he came to stand before Claire and dropped to one knee.

“Sassenach. Claire. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, from the moment we first met, ye have proven again an’ again tae be the most intriguing, challenging, unnerving an’ passionate woman I’ve e’re met. Yer spirit speaks tae my soul jes as yer beauty favours my eyes. I’m no’ much o’ a prospect fer a wife, but if ye’ll have me, I shall spend my days makin’ yer life as comfortable as may be.”

Jamie took Claire’s left hand, chilled from the damp in the unheated church, and ran his calloused fingertips over her ring finger, silently grieving the absence of any token to offer her in witness of his vow.

“What say ye, Sassenach? Would ye care tae become a simple crofter’s wife?”

When Jamie dared to glance up from her delicate hand, the gold in Claire’s eyes had gone molten with tears. Her lips trembled upwards in a shaky smile.

“I’d care to become your wife, James Fraser, whoever you may be. There’s nothing in this world I want more.”

Letting out dual breaths of ecstatic relief, the young couple crashed together in a blissful embrace, words and murmurs of joy baptized by their tears.

“Jamie!” Claire laughed as their kisses grew increasingly passionate. “We’re in a church!”

“Aye, he’s a canny one, my godfather,” he replied, missing her point entirely.

“What do you mean?”

“I’d wager my boots he’s out there rousin’ the reverend, insistin’ he perform the ceremony.”

“What? Tonight?” Claire asked doubtfully.

Jamie’s boots were safe, because within an hour a sleepy but resigned minister had donned his vestments and was waiting in the chancel for the bride to complete her preparations in the vestibule. Jamie stood perfectly still before the altar, looking pale despite the warm tones of the candlelight.

“Breathe, lad,” Murtagh joked when he noticed his godson’s rigid posture.

Jamie dutifully inhaled, then exhaled his doubts.

“Am I bein’ honourable, a goistidh? Would my father approve?”

“Approve of ye marryin’ a lass ye care fer, an’ who clearly cares fer ye? When the alternative is her bein’ married off tae some ne’er do well in the big city?” Murtagh’s bushy eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“I canna judge if I’m bein’ selfish or no’. She’s the woman fer me, I’m sure of it. But am I the man fer her?”

Murtagh looked thoughtful. Jamie’s fingers tapped madly against the coarse wool of his trousers. He didn’t even have a clean change of clothes to don, let alone a ring to pledge his troth. When he pointed out these impediments to his godfather, the older man reached beneath his shirt, unfastening a simple chain he’d worn around his neck for as long as Jamie could remember. Dangling from the chain was a delicate silver ring.

“I had this made for Julia, twenty years ago, but I ne’er had the chance tae offer it tae her. Tis fitting her daughter should wear it.”

Jamie examined the finely wrought band, a continuous braid of three narrow strands, their intersections marked by engravings of Scottish thistle and English rose.

“Thank ye, Murtagh. Truly.”

With the rapidly warming metal pressed into his palm, Jamie regained some of his innate confidence.

“As fer yer other doubts,” Murtagh added, “I’ll share wi’ ye the wisdom o’ a man I greatly admire.”

Jamie listened carefully, eager to hear what he assumed would be his father’s advice.

“Claire can decide her future fer herself,” Murtagh pronounced with a significant tilt to his head.

Jamie had never been quite so happy to be bested by his own words.

***

Rosemary fussed with Claire’s hair, despite long ago coming to the realization that it couldn’t be tamed. The dress she’d magically produced from Claire’s trousseau was sufficiently matrimonial for the occasion, glittering like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight with silver embroidered leaves cascading down the bodice to the skirt.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Claire whispered, not for the first time.

“You’re certain it’s what you want?” Rosemary confirmed.

“More than anything.”

Reaching discretely beneath her corset, Rosemary removed the money Henry had entrusted to her and held it out to Claire. Her niece looked at the pound notes as though they might burst into flames.

“Are you mad?” she finally spoke.

Rosemary shrugged.

“Your father told me to use this money to establish you in marriage. Use it however you desire, but it’s yours.”

The older woman looked off in the distance, revisiting the past in her mind.

“I’ve lived my entire life seeing what evil can befall a woman when she doesn’t control her own destiny. It led to your mother’s death. I won’t see it destroy you as well, my child. Julia would have wanted you to be free.”

Claire embraced her aunt with tears pooling in her eyes, speechless for once. Once she’d collected herself, she tucked the hundred pounds down the front of her own dress and gave a decisive nod.

“You’re ready?” Rosemary asked with her hand on the vestibule door.

“Je suis prête.”

***

The ceremony was simple. Five people stood within the halo of flickering candlelight, but two of them were in a world of their own. Jamie stared into his Sassenach’s gemstone eyes as the minister, no doubt familiar with the peremptory nature of certain Highland weddings, skipped over the liturgical niceties and straight to the binding portion of the rite.

“I, James Alexander Malcolm Morriston Fraser, take thee, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, to be my wedded wife. And do, in the presence of God and before these witnesses, promise and covenant to be a loving, faithful and dutiful husband unto thee until God shall separate us by death.”

With shaking hands, he placed her mother’s ring onto Claire’s finger, not at all surprised that it was a perfect fit. The shame he felt in his appearance, in his impoverished state, in Lallybroch’s inadequate appointments for a lady such as Claire, all melted away as he watched her lift her hand close to her face and examine the ring with a kind of reverent awe.

“Can ye kiss yer bride sae I may return tae my warm bed?” the reverend urged, shaking Jamie from his stupour.

“Aye. Wi’ pleasure.”

He couldn’t have imagined that kissing Claire could be any more euphoric than their previous encounters, but there was something deeper to the way their lips met and caressed. More meaningful. She tasted like his own secret well of delight.

“Well,” Murtagh coughed when they showed no signs of disengaging. “If ye’re quite done, the weather seems tae be liftin’, and t’will be dawn soon enough. We should be on our way.”

Claire’s things were transferred from the carriage to Murtagh’s cart, with a promise that they would be delivered to Lallybroch “after ye’ve had a chance tae, ahem, settle in”. Claire and Jamie would ride Donas up the glen, which only left Aunt Rosemary’s destination in question.

“Surely, you’re not thinking of returning to Netherton?” Claire asked, suddenly concerned for her aunt’s welfare once her father found out about her elopement.

“No, child. I only ever stayed on to watch over you, and that’s your husband obligation now, God help him,” she smiled sadly. “I have some modest savings and a train ticket to Edinburgh. I may as well go there.”

“Must ye go sae soon?” Murtagh inquired with a pained expression. “I was hopin’ ye might stick around. Tae see the lass settled, that is.”

“And stay in that dilapidated hovel you call a bothy?” Rosemary countered with a sniff, nevertheless following him down the path.

“Tis a fine dwelling,” Murtagh argued as he hopped into his cart and extended a hand to help the gentlewoman onto the seat beside him. “All it needs is a woman’s touch.”

Their two voices could be heard bickering long after their shadows had blended into the twilight. Jamie and Claire exchanged looks of giddy disbelief.

“Are ye ready tae go hame, Mrs. Fraser?” he asked as he helped his wife mount Donas behind him.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Mr. Fraser. Take me home to Lallybroch.”

#my writing #outlander #fanfiction

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