#outlander feedback

[zepskies]

Omggg thank you so much for shouting out Baby in this series!! I was imagining Black Beauty for her lol.

And Dean's little moment with Mato was so fun to write -- he makes a good "father-in-law." 🤣

I also love how unconditionally they seem to love one another. I miss the times when loving was this simple. I know it came with a lot of patriarchy and all that - I don't mean that. But more like the acceptance that came so smoothly.

Aww I'm so glad you commented on this. For as much complicated drama as Mila and Dean have around them, when it's just the two of them, it really is a simple kind of love. 🥹💗

I'll be honest, given how many people have choosen over Dean, this line below had me obssessed—

Ahh right?? Her love is strong, and she's not backing down on choosing Dean -- as many times as he chooses her. 💞

I'm so glad you're enjoying this little sequel series so far. Thank you so much for reviewing this chapter. I really appreciate it, friend!! 🥰

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi. 

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile. 

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes. 

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.    

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman. 

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more. 

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse. 

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.” 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.” 

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence. 

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.  

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening. 

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment. 

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.   

“You okay?” he asks. 

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm. 

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart. 

“You will never be alone,” she promises. 

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.   

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight. 

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him. 

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.  

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him. 

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms. 

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.  

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him. 

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt. 

“I choose him over you,” she says. 

Then, she slips back inside.     

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds. 

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now. 

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.” 

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones. 

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.” 

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.  

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say. 

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though. 

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once. 

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks. 

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother. 

“I will think on it,” he says. 

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life. 

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut. 

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers. 

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek. 

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring. 

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name. 

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip. 

Read Part 2 now on Patreon! (Coming next Friday)

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Outlander Masterlist

The Honorable Choice Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1)

(Going back to the regular Dean tag list, plus those who said they'd like to be tagged on this series!)

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla

[samsheughan]

approving all the lovely comments on ao3 yall really making me feel seen and loved coming out of fic writing retirement i love you guys so much

[christiwhitson]

Just a snippet of what might be the first chapter of my next Outlander fic (after Brave New World). But I want to gauge interest before committing to this plot bunny, since I write one fic at a time. So if you like it, please comment and say so!

——————

Title TBD:

This was a mistake. I knew it with the first breath of Highland air, while the sound of my apparition still reverberated off the standing stones.

In less than a second, my blood was humming with energy, and magic pulsed through the circle in visible waves of silver and white, as though my mere presence had ignited a firestorm. It ebbed and flowed in a dizzying pattern of currents and eddies, pushing and pulling at my body like an angry sea.

I could neither take a step nor stand completely still, and I attempted to brace myself against the nearest stone—standing alone in the very center.

That was a mistake too.

—————

As the haze of unconsciousness receded, it was the pain that reached me first, urging me to open my eyes and find the source of it. I had fallen at some point, for the earth was at my back and the trees danced in the wind overhead. Wincing, I took stock of my body and struggled to sit up. The solid presence of a wand in my hand was an immense relief, and the pain was already leaving me, making it easier to focus on my surroundings.

The hurricane of magic that had sprung to life only moments before had vanished, and that in itself was bewildering. I’d heard of chaotic magic being unpredictable near some ley lines, particularly in places where they converged—places like Craigh na Dun. But I’d never read anything about it being so volatile. A magical backlash strong enough to knock me out was the last thing I’d been expecting on this mission.

I rose unsteadily to my feet and resisted the compulsion to touch the stone again, instead moving several paces away. I lifted my wand to perform a quick scan of the environment, and the results were even more baffling. It was as though nothing had happened. The magic levels were low enough to be classified as dormant, which made absolutely no sense. Whatever magical phenomenon I had walked into, it seemed the show was over.

I huffed in exasperation and scowled at the tallest stone. Whoever had set the apparition coordinates to land me almost in the center of the circle was a bloody idiot, and I was already looking forward to giving them a good rollicking. We were Unspeakables, for Merlin’s sake, and that sort of miscalculation was a rookie move.

Concerned that I might have somehow drawn the wrong sort of attention to myself, I surveyed the area for any indication that someone else might have witnessed the incident. The last thing I needed right then was to run into a muggle. They were at war just as we were, and they were likely to be highly suspicious of me—an oddly dressed woman who’d simply popped into existence atop a faerie hill. It was just the sort of folktale the Scots would turn into some parody of actual magic.

Not that encountering an unfamiliar wizard was an altogether safe bet either. Grindelwald’s war seemed to have reached boiling point, and the Department had been researching possible options for ritual magic to strengthen Britain’s defenses, utilizing particular ley lines. The nexus of lines at Craigh na Dun had been assigned to me.

Fortunately, it seemed I was alone. I glanced upward in search of the sun, but the Highland sky was as clouded as ever. I cast a quick tempus and frowned at the results. I couldn’t possibly have been unconscious for ten hours. Modifying the spell slightly to check the date, I produced a wispy set of numbers beneath the ghostly clock face that hovered in the air and nearly dropped my wand in shock.

May 2, 1743.

[cajon-desastre]

Celebrating Outlander's 10th Anniversary with a special interview ft. Matthew B. Roberts and Maril Davis - Enjoy!

Season One

Hello Sassenachs of Reddit!

We hope you’ve been enjoying our celebrations in honor of the ten year anniversary of Outlander! This subreddit has been such a phenomenal resource and community for Outlander fans that we wanted to do something special for you all. So this week during the production of Season 8 we pulled both Matthew B. Roberts and Maril Davis from their busy schedules to do a quick Q&A about their early days on the show. The resulting answers are transcribed below for a bit of bonus reading material. -XO, Bestie

Let’s talk about the premiere episode, “Sassenach,” which is turning 10 years old. When you look back, what do you remember that fans might not know?

Maril Davis: Well, I don't know if this is a fun fact, but our first shot of that episode was Claire in the scene where she comes out after treating the soldiers and the war is over and she drinks the champagne. That was literally our first scene that we shot from that episode. We took a picture of the clapboard and all kinda looked around and felt like, oh, this is the start of something special. I didn't know it was gonna be this special. I didn’t know it would be this many years. That was my first memory of it.

Caitríona Balfe on her first day on set.

The day the magic began!

Matthew B. Roberts: Going back to the first episode, everybody was new. In a weird way, we were all Sassenachs. We had this group from Los Angeles that came over here and even though everybody spoke English, it was like being in a whole new world. And then we had a cast that was new to a big, American television show - certainly Caitríona and Sam. So, there were a lot of newbies, so to speak. I know a lot of people had worked in the industry for a long time but it just felt like we all stepped through the stones in that first episode. The first day was a little weird because it was not in Scotland, it was in “France,” because we did Claire being a nurse in France for our first day. And I believe we even did a little side unit of Claire learning how to smoke with Uncle Lamb. So, we were all over the place but it was really exciting. I remember the group of us being so excited to hear the word “action” and get going, you know? 

Do you remember the first time you ever watched the finished episode either in edit or among fans at the first premiere?

Maril Davis: I remember the first two episodes because they were kind of like a pair… watching those and just being so excited because, as a fan of the books, seeing that come to life was very special. I knew so immediately that we cast this series so well. I knew in that moment, “Wow, this is gonna work!” I remember having that feeling in the edit.

Matthew B. Roberts: I don't remember the day but it's like this: we've all watched premieres. We've all watched pilots. But when you watch something and you go, “Wow. We have a show…” I remember the feeling of watching it. “Wow. This is something I have not seen.” You congratulate yourself but you never know if you’re ever gonna get a back 9 or if you're ever going to get a second season. You're always hanging on a thread. We didn't know. And it wasn't broadcast television, so you still didn't know. I don't think we were quite done when we started airing. So we got some feedback and we were living in the days of social media really gearing up so that instantaneous feedback was something new. I'll tell you, that was weird! ... I didn't really get it until around the end of the second season how impactful the show had been to a lot of people. We put it out there but the fans bring the characters into their homes each week. They fell in love with them, they fell in love with the show, and they wanted more. And I know how I felt when I would watch my favorite shows and they would go on hiatus and you're like, “Oh god, please come back!” You wanna spend more time with these people that are now your friends and family that you care for.

As for the fan events… we had a really big premiere in LA for Season 5. So many people came up to me and said how much it meant to them. They didn't say it was good. They didn't say they liked the show. They said how much it meant to them. And that to me is different than, “I like the show.” That means a lot to me. 

The Season 5 Premiere in Los Angeles.

The story goes that Matt gave Maril the books around 2011/2012 because she was looking for a new project with Ronald D. Moore. Matt, how did you come upon the books?

Matthew B. Roberts: In one of my first jobs in the industry, a long time ago, I was a reader where you read scripts and books and do coverage on them. The production company I was working for handed me these books and they wanted to make TV movies out of them. I read the books and I liked them but I passed on them. I said, “They're just too big, there's too much in them. There's no way you could do it.” … I just couldn't imagine Outlander, any one of the books to tell you the truth, in an hour and forty minutes. You’d lose so much. So, I passed. And I literally made the note, “But it would make a great television show.” … Then Maril was outside my office one day talking to another friend of ours… she was looking for something epic. I just so happened to have the books on my shelf still. I kinda carried them along, they were too big, so I kept them in my office. I brought them out to her and I said, “Here, read these.” And she read them and fell in love with them. As the quote goes, the rest is history!

What stood out about the books that let you know this would be a fantastic TV show? 

Matthew B. Roberts: The shows that I loved and really bonded with had love stories that endured and it could be different kinds of love stories. There are friends. It could be husband and wife. It could be boyfriend girlfriend. Girlfriend girlfriend. Boyfriend boyfriend. It didn't matter, they were love stories. And when you start reading Outlander and you get into it, you start to realize, “Wow, this is an epic story!” When you start getting into over the course of time, you go, “Oh, it could be very episodic too. It's not only episodic, but it's serialized.” You can kind of come into it at a different time because there's time travel. If you started Outlander in Season 3, Season 3 kind of stands up on its own and then you go backwards and you go, “Oh, that's how they got there.” Oddly enough, when they handed me the books, I just took the top book off and read it and it just happened to be Dragonfly in Amber. I didn't read Outlander first. They didn't tell me there was an order. So I just read Dragonfly in Amber and it held up perfectly fine. Then I went back and read Outlander, and I was like, “Oh, that's how all that happened” but it still held up perfectly fine. You could tell Outlander in 50 different ways–pick a spot, start there and go backwards and forwards. As a storyteller, in television terms, you realize there's so much material here but there's also so much emotion over the course of this journey. And isn't that what we hear stories for? It's to be afraid, or to fall in love, or to fantasize, or to travel somewhere you can't go. Well, Outlander does all that.

Was there anything about the first season of the show that you fought for—for example, casting, certain lines or plot points, characters, etc.—and are proud to have in the show? 

Matthew B. Roberts: You know, that first writer's room was fun. It was fun to bring all the ideas and favorite parts because everybody had different things that they really liked about the book. And, to tell you the truth, that's how it works. You bond with certain parts of the story. I think the one thing that we felt very strongly about was can we tell this book the way it's meant to be told in the sense that Claire's narrative and inner journey is very big in these books. We had to go with the conceit, be bold and go, “We're just gonna do voice over.” It’s something that we don't keep up with all the time now because Claire has people to talk to. It's one of the reasons why, not only did we love the Murtagh character, but Murtagh gave Claire and Jamie someone to talk to when you're trying to get out of the head. We always say you can't film a thought and because so much of Claire's emotional journey is in her internal dialogue and monologues, we had to figure out how to get that out. We just dove into the conceit. But we learned our lesson in the first season. We had probably too many and they were too long, so we'd have to pause shooting and the actors would have to just stand around because we knew 45 seconds of voice over would come and we went, we can't do that anymore. So, we had to struggle and figure out, alright, what's the best way of doing this? Let's just play the action and see where it fits. So rather than make room for it, we kind of calibrated it in the timings.

Maril Davis: You could say I fought for Caitríona but I wasn't the only one. I remember we were about three weeks away from filming. We had potential other choices and we could have easily made the call to pick one of the other actresses for the role because production was really on us. It's very unusual to start in 2-3 weeks on a shoot this big and not have an actress. And Costume needed a Claire. I just remember saying to Ron in our office, if we don't get these two right, if we don't get the right Jamie and Claire, if they don't have the right chemistry, we're never going to succeed. So, I felt very strongly that we had to wait for the right person. And literally the next day, Toni Graphia sent me an email saying I found this woman named Caitríona. We got so many casting tapes. She was in an area we hadn't seen, maybe overlooked, or maybe that hadn't been presented to us for some reason. We all watched her and instantly knew and flew her out to Los Angeles. It went very fast from there.

What has been the most difficult thing about adapting Outlander for the screen?

Matthew B. Roberts: The challenge is to take what is meant for a book, that medium, and bring it to life. We simply cannot do certain scenes the way they're written just from a sheer time and budget standpoint. And you know it as soon as you read it, you go “God, I wish we could do this.” And you know you can't. We can't get this many people, or they can't build this many costumes in this amount of time. So, we pick the moments. … Oddly enough in Season 3, the Battle of Culloden technically isn't in the book. We find Jamie after. On the first pass, Culloden was really big and we realized we couldn’t film it, not the way it was written, so we had to figure out a way of bringing all that emotion to the screen but still have the feeling of a battle. That's what I think we've done really well. I think the group has done such a magnificent job because we don't need to show all the battles, we need to show the emotion and why it matters to Jamie and Claire. Once we went, “It's not about the fighting and the blowing up... It's about who we care about in these battles, focus on them,” then we brought down the scale a little bit and filmed what was important. 

Sam Heughan filming the Battle of Culloden (Episode 301).

Maril Davis: I think a lot of seasons have been challenging. I actually think this last season has been the most challenging. Every season has its challenge but some seasons just work out so well. I’m incredibly proud of Season 7. We didn't know if we were ending with Season 7 so we took two books and had so much material to choose from. The first season was also very easy because it was so easy to follow the books. … Season 8 has been challenging not only because we're ending before the books (so that is its own challenge) but it's also the last season. There's a lot of pressure. I feel like this book is a set up for the next book and its finale. So it's been challenging to try to go out on a season when you don't have the ending at hand.

Maril Davis and the crew on the set of Season 8 (from her Instagram @nightmaril)

Looking back at when you first started production, what were the main challenges or surprises of shooting Season 1 in Scotland?

Maril Davis: When we first started here, we were told that everyone shoots 11 day fortnights. So, for the first 3 months, we were in 11 day fortnights. For Americans who don't know, we shot the full week through Saturday and only had Sunday off, basically. It was very difficult and I think we were all dragging. Then we found out they do 11 day fortnights in the UK but usually on very short runs, shows that are 4 or 5 episodes long. About 3 months in, we went back to a more traditional 5 days a week and that was a huge relief. It was also very challenging in the beginning with the weather in very remote areas. But I honestly look back on those days and those are some of my happiest memories. I think we felt like we were all in it together and doing something really special. Even though it was tough, I really cherish those first seasons.

Sam Heughan and Caitríona Balfe during the filming of Season 1.

Matthew B. Roberts: It’s been a pretty amazing transformation, I'd say. When we started out, the studios that we have now manufactured parts for cell phones or something. It was just hollowed out empty warehouses and we transformed it over a decade. Now, it's essentially a working studio. We have construction. We have a mill. We have costume warehouses. We have prop warehouses. We can fabricate almost anything there. We also now have seven stages. We started off with two. And they weren't soundproofed! When it rained really hard we had to yell “cut” and we had to open up the doors to get the smoke out because we used real candles. Now we have extractors. It's soundproofed. It's a modern studio. We've really come a long way! Also with the crews. The first year, we brought crews up from different parts of the UK and once Outlander became established, so many of the Scots who had had to leave home to work came back and they got to go to their homes and families every night. They could work on a show that they were proud of, or I think they're proud of.  

Our cast of characters have become so iconic! Do you have any favorite memories from seeing any of the cast embody their characters for the first time? 

Matthew B. Roberts: We started in the writers’ room a year before we started filming. We had lived with these characters for a long time. I'd read all the books up to that point multiple times before we even started. So, I was fighting what I'd already imagined. And then you have people stepping on the stage and you go, “Is that Jamie Fraser? Is that Claire Fraser?” … You get something that you didn't expect and that you didn't even know you wanted. I didn't know I wanted Murtagh to live on but after seeing Duncan play him, I did. And that just happened over and over and over. I mean, think about what Lauren Lyle did with Marsali. She brought her to life and then you just keep writing to that. You dig those stories out of the books and go, “Let’s tell those stories.” That happened over and over again. Jamie and Claire were always going to be the through line. The more Caitríona and Sam embodied them and brought their own take to the characters, we found that current in the river. You go, “Let's take that path because that's the way they're taking the characters and those are the stories you want to tell.” So you mine those out of the book.

Maril Davis: Caitríona and Sam, obviously… seeing them together for the first time in Los Angeles. They met for the first time at Sony Studios. They have a very small screening room that's outside one of the office buildings and that's where they first met the first time. We all just were like, “Oh, this is really going to work. That was amazing.” Also, we cast Sam first, so Sam was able to read with some of our other cast besides Caitríona. I was in London once with him and got to see him read with Graham McTavish for the first time. It was really exciting seeing their chemistry. It came down to Graham and another actor, and their chemistry really popped on the screen. What was also interesting about that casting session is that we had Sam read with Laura Donnelly. At the time, she was a potential Claire contender. As soon as we saw her we all were like, this is our Jenny. She was fabulous, so she could’ve easily done any part, but just seeing them together and realizing “we have Jamie's sister” was also really special

What has been the most surprising thing that has happened to you, or to your careers, because of Outlander?  

Matthew B. Roberts: I don't know if I can answer “surprising.” I can answer that Outlander's given me a lot. I've gone from Producer to Showrunner and it's given me the ability to do a lot more in my career than I might have imagined ten years ago. It's given me a new family in Scotland that I didn't know that I could have. I've built lifetime friendships. We talk a lot about Outlander being a family. We've established this place, this studio, and so much of our crew that's worked from the very first episode are still here. Some have gone out, but they come back. I think it's because we built a really caring family. That's why we've had so many babies born. If Outlander ever comes back in ten years, we have a full crew just ready to go!

Maril Davis: I was talking to Diana Gabaldon the other day because we can see the light at the end of the tunnel, although that's not an appropriate way to describe this ending because light at the end of the tunnel means you're almost done and you're pleased about it. It's such a bittersweet ending. We're all incredibly sad. It's been a tough season because of the emotions of it all. But I was just thanking her because I truly feel like I'm not sure I'll have this experience again on another show. I have other shows, and I will have other shows, but I feel like this was, in a weird way, my first, along with a lot of other people's first—Sam, Caitríona, Toni, Matt… so many of us. This was the thing that really launched us all and we did it together. The TV industry has changed and now there's so much more saturation that this is just a very special one. When you're involved with something like this and you get a crew, cast, and writers you love… we all realized how special this was. That's one of the reasons it's hard to leave it, because it feels like such a defining moment for everyone's career at the same time and you don't often get that in this industry. You certainly don't often get 10 years of making a show.

After all these years, is there anything that you haven’t been asked about Outlander that you’d like to talk about?

Matthew B. Roberts: We get asked a lot, you know, what are funny moments or what are your favorite moments? I don't have favorites. I think that every episode is supposed to do the thing it's supposed to do and if you take one away, then you can't get to the next one… So many of us care about this show and I mean deeply care about it. We put our hearts and souls into this show for 10 years, 12 years for some of us that started on day one, and we want to see it all the way through. Is it important that people like it? Of course. But I think it's more important that it means something to them.

Maril Davis: Oh my god. What question have I never been asked? I will say, when you're not an actor, you get asked the questions that are a little more dry. You don't get the fun things, like, who cracks up the most in the writers' room? Actually, I'm not sure anyone totally cracks up. I don't know if that would be me. But we don't get asked the fun questions. We get asked: What's the tone of this season? Can you describe this season in 10 words?

Okay Maril, here’s one fun question to close us out then… obviously, the costumes on Outlander have been amazing. If you could steal any of them, which would you steal?

Maril Davis: Claire, in the first season, had this amazing riding coat with fur trim that she then gave to Brianna and that Brianna wore. I love that. And, I mean, the Dior suit. It feels like you gotta go with that.

The riding coat and the "Dior Suit."

Reddit

[starlightlacrimosazpsff]

꧁cσηsтεℓℓαтιση gεηεsιs꧂

​

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭, 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓫��𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓿𝓮.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓳𝓸𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓼, 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓾𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓮.

The idea || The follow up ideas

🄿🄻🄰🅈🄻🄸🅂🅃 || 🄿🄻🄰🅈🄻🄸🅂🅃

⚜ ⓅⓇⒺⒻⒶⒸⒺ ⚜

》 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄: ❝𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬❞

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 || The Outlanders

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈: ❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬❞

𝐂𝟏 || The Legend of a Creator

𝐂𝟐 || The Seven Sovereigns

𝐂𝟑 || Blessing of Seven

𝐂𝟒 || Into the Lunar Palace

𝐂𝟓 || King of the Dragons

𝐂𝟔 || Dynasty of Mythos

𝐂𝟕 || A Timeless Dragon

𝐂𝟖 || The Unexpected Guest

𝐂𝟗 || Four Decades of War

𝐂𝟏𝟎 || Memoirs of Seven

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: ❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈: ❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲❞

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕: ❝𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐬❞

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕: ❝𝐈𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲❞

》 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟎: ❝𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬❞

》 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐒, 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃, & 𝐏𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐒

》 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒: ❝𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤❞

》 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒: ❝𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐆𝐨𝐝❞

》 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄: ❝𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬❞

》 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄: ❝𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰❞

©ɪɴᴛᴏᴛʜᴇɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴᴡᴏʀʟᴅ || ©ꜱᴛᴀʀʟɪɢʜᴛᴀɴᴏɴ • Do not copy, repost, translate, or take heavy inspiration from my content without explicit permission. Please report any plagiarized copy posted by accounts that are not my indicated socials across other writing platforms. Some general feedback and constructive criticism are encouraged, and interactions are always appreciated. Reblogs and Comments also help. Thank you all for reading.

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

17: Chanson Triste

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Warnings: death, cemetery, angst

a/n: I'm back!!!! God, you guys have no idea how much I missed Violet and Lando, I was so excited while writing this chapter. I hope everyone is doing amazing, having good days. I came from a really really needed break and from a trip I was so excited to make, and with a lot of ideas for this story. But here you have some bad news... I can see the end of this story! Is not close yet, some things have to happen, but that means too that THE chapter is coming :)

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I knew I was going to be in the mouth of everyone. Dating him, a well known driver in Europe that drives for the second most famous team of the world, would mean that my social media would be full of notifications, of people sending requests of following, of attempts of messages. I knew that once we landed back in London, people would recognize us and follow us. 

But I have to love the present. I have to keep being who I am, I can't show a weakness because they would be attacking it immediately. If I want to be with Lando, I have to fight against the odds to make them see that I don't care what people say about me.

“I don't want to leave tomorrow…” I sighed, laying on the bed and looking through the window, observing the pyramids.

“Me neither” I heard him sigh, laying on his side and kissing my arm. “Maybe we can stay some more days…”

“You know we can't” I sighed looking at him, smiling weakly. “My worry is growing and I need to see Eloise. I'm really worried, she's not answering my texts or calls…”

“Did you call her parents too?” he smiled weakly, rubbing my back softly. 

“They decline my calls…” I whisper, sadly. “I just… What if she's really mad at me because I chose to stay with you instead of talking with her? I mean, I did explain to her why I did that, what happened… But she didn't answer, just left me on read”

“It will be okay, love” Lando sighed, kissing my shoulder. “You want me to go with you? So we can talk with her and explain to her…”

“I don't know, I think I want to do it alone” I smiled weakly. “We have to talk, many things have happened since last time I saw her and I just want to have some time alone with her”

“I understand” he nodded, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his chest. 

“You are the best” I smiled, kissing his lips softly, cupping his jaw with my hand. “You know, I think we broke the internet some days ago”

“Oh, yeah. I know” he laughed, making me smile when I felt his chest move with his laugh. “My manager texted me saying that people just went crazy, kinda”

“I just… I don't want to be like those girlfriends that are models and influencers” I said. “I mean, they are perfect. Every time I talked with some of them I felt like an outlander, kinda. They just dressed with important brands like Gucci, Dior, Tommy Hilfiger… and the most expensive clothing I have is a dress I bought for a gala in the museum, and it's nothing compared to what they wore”

“I know you are not like them, Violet” he said, kissing my head. “And that's what I love about you. You are natural, careless. You are like a breath of fresh air for me, really. You keep my feet in the ground”

“That's cute” I smile looking up at him. “I just… I guess I want to be worth it? Yesterday I read some of the comments of the posts and they kept repeating that finally there's a girlfriend that is not famous. Like, I'm normal, I guess. Not an influencer, not an athlete, not a model”

“And that's perfect, really” he smiled. 

“But that made them think that I want you for your money” I smiled weakly. “I mean, if they say that, I can just take a screenshot of my bank account and show the money I have. But that's not what I was saying…”

“I just imagined you posting on Instagram that screenshot with a caption like… I'm not poor, I have a job. Go mind your own business” he interrupted me laughing, making me laugh too. 

“You and I both know that I'm capable of doing that” I laugh. “But what I was saying! Why are they so determined to say that every girlfriend is with their partner just because of money and fame? Why can't they think that it is because of something else, like love?”

“Because… I don't know” he sighed, brushing my hair with his fingers. “I guess they want drama, gossip. They think that a love story is not dramatic or important for a driver. They just want to make and believe their own narrative and take things out of context”

“That kinda sucks” I whisper.

“It does, yeah…” he sighed. “But I don't care about what they think. I only care that after every race I'll have someone waiting for me. I made many mistakes before, like letting them get in my mind and make me push away people that cared for me. I won't make the same mistake again, I will fight for us”

“I love you, Lando” I smiled, hugging him tight. 

“Tomorrow I will take you to a place before we leave” he said. “So I want you to take that white dress you bought the other day at the market”

“Are you going to propose?” I laughed. “Isn't that a little soon? I don't know, wait for next year maybe. We have been dating for a week!”

“No, silly!” he laughed. “But I'll keep that in mind”

“Idiot” I laughed softly.

He just held me, both of us watching the pyramids before falling asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, after I woke up I grabbed my phone, checking if I had any answer from Eloise. But like the last few days, I didn't have messages from her.

“I'm sure she's fine, Violet” I heard Landon whisper, kissing my shoulder. 

“It's just… I feel something is wrong. We never have been this long without talking. I just want her to send me whatever…” I whispered.

I heard Lando sigh and wrapping his arms around me tightly, making me take a deep breath and close my eyes, getting comfortable in his arms.

The next morning he woke me up, peppering soft kisses all over my shoulders and neck, rubbing his hand over my back in soft circles. His smile was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes, making me answer him the same way.

“Good morning, beautiful” he whispered, making me chuckle softly and hide my face on his bare chest, pressing a soft kiss on his skin. “Ready to do one last visit?”

“Mhm” I nodded, wrapping my arm around him. 

We just got up and while the room service came with our breakfast, we put out clothes back in the suitcases, making sure they were ready and sent to the reception so we don't have to come back before leaving. 

I looked at the white dress, smiling. I have no idea what he wants to do, where are we going now. But somehow I was excited about it, I was excited because I saw him excited about being in this place. I'm excited because he was so interested in things I like. He looked at me with a smile while he nodded, paying attention to everything I explained to him. And it made me fall even more for him, if that was possible.

“You ready?” he smiled, watching how I tied my hair on a braid after hanging my bag on my shoulder. “Let's go”

I laugh softly, walking out with him and going to the main door of the hotel. A van was waiting for us, ready to take us to the place he planned to go. He held my hand all the time, rubbing soft circles on my knuckles.

“Where are we going?” I asked him, resting my head on his shoulder.

“You'll see” he whispered. “Just be patient, we are close”

I laugh softly and nod, looking out of the window and enjoying the land that surrounded us. After a few minutes, the car stopped.

“Let's go” he smiled, opening the door and getting out of the car before me.

I smiled at him, holding his hand as he helped me get out of the van. I looked around surprised, recognizing this place.

“No you didn't” I laughed softly.

“Oh yeah” he smirked, hiding my hand tightly and walking with me. “You know what this temple means?”

“It's Hathor’s temple” I nodded, looking around and smiling. “Egyptian goddess of the sky, music, joy, dance and love”

“And you told me that she was associated with Isis, right?” he said, wrapping his arm around me. “The goddess of the loyalty and the maternal love”

“Mhm” I nodded.

“Well, I want to make a promise, in front of her” he said, holding my hand and stopping right in front of one of the many statues of the goddess.

“Lando” I laughed softly, watching how he grabbed something from the pocket of his jeans, making me swallow the lump and laugh nervously. 

“I want to promise you that I will treat you how you deserve to be treated. I promise that I will never hurt you or touch you when you don't want to. I promise that I will never make you cry. I promise that I will be only thinking about you, when I wake up, during the day and at night. I promise to cherish you and make you happy and fight whoever dares to make you feel sad”

“Lando…” I smiled softly, feeling my eyes getting wet when I saw him open his hand, showing me a silver ring with two small rocks placed next to the other.

“This is my promise. I'll give you this ring to seal my promise of loving you forever. You owe my heart since the day I first saw you” he said while he put the ring on my ring finger. “This ring has our birthstones, together. Because I really think that we were born to be together, that you are my soulmate, Violet. And now that I found you I will never let you go. I won't leave you”

His words sank in my heart, filling my chest with a warm flame he only knows how to turn on. His touch is delicate, how he holds my hand while I admire the beautiful ring with both stones, topaz and and tanzanite, together.

“Idiot, you are going to make me cry and you just promised me that you won't make me do it” I laughed softly, wiping the little tears of joy that were running down my cheeks. 

“Come here” he laughed, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close to him, heart by heart.

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landonorris 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

mclaren it was so nice having you during the testings and the launch with us!

violetsinclair you won't get rid of me easily 

Driving through the road that takes me to my childhood village was bittersweet. The first year I was away for my studies I was excited to come back and finally be on my childhood bed with my family again, but as years went by, that feeling started to disappear and it turned more into an obligation rather than something I used to do for pleasure.

Once my life was in order after coming back from the trip with Lando and both of us got used to living around the other, I took some days off from work and forced myself to grab my car and drive home. 

The past few days I tried to call Eloise again, as well as her family. But again, none of them answered. She only has her parents, her family is not as big as mine with grandparents that are still alive, uncles and aunts and cousins. That's why she always loved to spend time at my house during holidays, because she had more people around besides her parents.

As I drove past the signal that indicated the main entry of the village, I saw a few flowers on the ground, as well as marks of rubber of the tires that lead to the side of the road. And watching that made me feel shivers running down my spine.

When I parked my car in front of my house I looked at the house next to it, to her house. The light of her room is turned off, even the curtains are closed. Her car is not parked next to the garage.

If she's not here, then where?

I sigh, walking towards the main door of her house and pressing the doorbell, sighing when I noticed the lights were turned off.

“Hello? Eloise, I want to talk!”

Seconds later the door opened, and my smile dropped when I found her mother looking at me. I was surprised to find her wearing dark clothes, always used to see her wearing bright and neutral colors. Her gaze is not even the same, and the smile she always drew when I came to their house is no longer there.

“What are you doing here?” she frowned, her voice sounding rougher than I expected. “You are not welcomed here anymore”

“What? But… Jane, I want to talk with Eloise… I-”

“Leave this house now! You already did enough. How dare you come back here after everything you did to her? Are you insane?!”

“But… I just…”

“I don't want to see you” she groaned, closing the door on my face.

What did just happen?

I frowned, trying to call again, but I was  answered with silence. I sighed, giving up and walked to my house, opening the door and closing it behind me.

“Lottie, is that you?”

I smiled weakly and sighed when I recognized the voice of my grandma, so I walked towards the living room. She was there, on her chair next to the fireplace and whatever she was knitting. The moment she saw me I could see her face light up, smiling softly and leaving both needles on her lap and opening her arms, inviting me to a hug.

“I'm home, nana” I whispered, kneeling to be at her height and hugging her. “Did Eloise come by? It's been a while since I talked with her…”

“Oh, little Lottie…” she whispered. “You came late, my girl”

“Late? Why?” I frowned, pulling away from the hug and looking at her. 

“She's no longer here” she smiled weakly.

“What? Then where? She lives here”

Eloise's dream since she was little was to be the owner of the restaurant we always visited when we were little. Everytime we got out of school, we went to that place to have a chocolate milkshake while we did our homework. It was our place, sitting on the fourth table that is next to the door, facing the window and with views to the park. 

In that restaurant, during summer, she worked there to make money. She was a waitress, a cashier, and she cleaned the place. But what she loved the most was the moments she worked in the kitchen. She discovered her passion for cooking in the stoves of that restaurant and it helped her decide that she wanted to be a professional chef.

When we moved to London, we lived together during the first years of our studies. She went to the cooking academy while I went to the university. And when she finished her years of formation, she started working on restaurants until she gained a name, a reputation.

Her dream was always going back to our village and make that restaurant a place tourists would go to experience the gastronomy of our country. She always wanted to be a reference in the kitchen.

“Maybe she's in the restaurant” I frowned, getting up and looking around. 

Maybe that's why her car is not parked. Because she stayed longer in the restaurant, as usual.

“No, Violet”

I took a deep breath when I heard my cousin's voice behind me. Maya, the oldest one, already married and with a kid. 

“Come on, will someone tell me what is going on? Why did Jane say that I'm no longer welcomed? I'm so lost! Where is Eloise?”

“Let me take you somewhere” she smiled weakly, grabbing the keys of her car.

I frown and look at my grandma, watching how she nodded with a sad smile on her lips. Somehow, what is happening it's not good, I could tell because of the shivers that were running all over my body.

I followed Maya, getting inside her car and watching out of the window, hoping she would take me to the restaurant where I thought Eloise would be working. But when she turned to the left, going to the road that goes to the church and next to it to the cemetery, I heart skipped a beat. 

No, right? This can't be happening.

“Where are we going?” I frowned, feeling how my hands started to get sweaty, feeling how my heart was beating in my throat making me feel nauseous.

Maya didn't say anything, she only looked at me with a sad smile while she parked the car. She got out and waited for me to follow her, something that took me around a minute. But she waited for me, she stood in front of the car with her hands inside of the pockets of her black coat.

“Come on” she sighed, biting her lip and walking.

Every step I made sounded louder in my ears and it increased the anxiety I was feeling. That anxiety started to become panic and fear. 

“Here” Maya sighed, standing in front of a gravestone.

I didn't want to read what it said. I didn't want to know who was buried there. It was recent, the smell of flowers was still recent and I could see that the marble was still shining.

“No” I mumbled, feeling how I was choking with a scream. “No, no. It can't be. No. You are joking, right? This is a cruel joke. Eloise is working in the restaurant and she just wanted to play around, making me pay for something I don't even know I've done. Please, Maya…”

“I’m sorry” she mumbled. “It happened some weeks ago… But Harry came and said that you two stopped being friends and something about you betraying her”

“No!” I exclaimed, looking at her and letting my tears fall. “None of that! Why would I betray her? Just because I chose myself first? Harry is the problem! He manipulated me so many times!”

“May I remind you that you couldn't stop saying that you loved him?” she said, and somehow that made me flinch. “That he saved you from being raped? That he was always next to you and that you felt so bad and jealous because you wanted to be in Eloise's shoes?”

“That was before I knew the truth…”

“So what? Now that you are having a love story worthy of a fairy tale with that driver you think that you can forget about your family and friends?!”

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. Maybe she's right… Maybe I was too focused on Lando and I stopped caring for my family… No. Lando has nothing to do with this. He showed me how it is to be loved, he showed me how it is to be loved by a family.

“I tried” I whisper. “I tried to call her, to talk to her. Lando told them to leave the trip because of things that happened between him and Harry. And Eloise wasn't the best friend during those days either. But I never stopped texting her and calling her. She was the one that ghosted me…”

“Look, I'm sorry, okay?” she sighed. “Eloise was a good girl, she didn't deserve this ending”

I swallowed thickly and looked at the flowers. I smiled sadly. There are roses on it, her favorite flower. 

“Can you leave me alone?” I whisper.

I heard her walk away without saying anything, and when I felt I was alone, I let out a sob. 

How on Earth could this happen? When? Why? Why her? Why did no one tell me? My own family forgot to tell me that my childhood best friend is dead. Those tyre’s marked at the entry of the village and the flowers… It happened that way? 

I felt incredibly nauseous and the need to throw up was real, making me run to a tree and bow, emptying my stomach. I tried to breathe, but the tears and the burn on my throat made it impossible.

“Just… why?” I cried, looking back at the grave. “Why? It's not fair! I didn't betray you. Did you feel like that? I chose myself first, for the first time, Eloise. I chose love first… Why did you never answer my calls and texts? It wasn't my fault Harry blackmailed Lando, it wasn't my fault at all… And still you believed him. If there was one who was betrayed, that was me”

I wanted to blame her. But… Is she the one to blame? She loved Harry, she followed him. Of course she did. I would do the same. 

“It's not fair at all, Eli” I mumble. “What am I supposed to do now? I just… God. Who am I supposed to talk with about my problems? About my life? Life is unfair, why the hell did you have to leave this way? Who am I going to tell that Lando and I are dating? That he promised me he's going to marry me? Who am I going to ask to be my maid of honor? What the hell am I supposed to do without you, Eloise?”

It hurts so bad. It hurt realizing that she's not here anymore. It hurt so bad realizing that she won't be next to me anymore, that she won't make her dreams come true.

“I'm nothing without you…”

It hurts. But what hurts the most is that for the first time I experienced what is it to lose someone you love, someone that was important for you. 

“I just… I'll miss you, Eli, so much. I already do”

I took a deep breath and just let the tears fall while I fixed the flowers on her grave, tracing with my fingers the letters of it.

“In loving memory of Eloise Taylor. Born on the 23 of October of 1999” I whisper, feeling a knot on my throat as I traced the next words of it. “Dead… The 27 of December of 2023”

-

I felt empty, so empty.

When I returned to London,instead of going back home, I went somewhere else.

The park where Eloise and I went to spend our afternoons together was close to the first apartment I ever lived in, with her. It was on the other side of London, in a small neighborhood. I sat on a bench, right next to a streetlight, and hugged myself. 

I didn't notice how long I stayed there until I looked at my phone, reading the notifications of messages and missed calls.

Lando🧡: how are things going? Did you talk with her?

Lando🧡: text me once you are coming back home, okay? I'll make something for dinner

Lando🧡: Babe?

Lando🧡: is everything okay? I'm worried

Lando🧡: Baby, please answer. Where are you? It's late and it's getting dark

Lando🧡 missed calls (3)

I took a deep breath and smiled weakly, pressing the call button and placing the phone on my phone.

“Violet? Thank God!”

“Lando…”

“Where are you? Are you still in your village? You are staying with Eloise? Did you talk?”

“Lando, she…”

“God, I was so worried” he sighed, relieved.

“She's dead”

“What? What did you say?”

“Eloise” I mumble, sniffling softly. “Eloise is dead… she's no longer here. She… she died”

Silence. He was quiet. I could hear his breathing, how it got stuck on his throat. 

“Where are you”

“I… I need to be alone” I whisper.

“Violet please…”

I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath, telling him the address of where I am. He didn't end the call, he stayed on it, making me hear everything he did, how he walked out of the apartment, how he went to his car and turned the engine on. 

“There you are” he sighed, ending the call and sitting next to me.

I felt his arms wrapping me and pulling me to his chest, holding me tight.

“How did it happen?” he mumbled, brushing my hair with his fingers.

“She… she crashed” I whisper. “She was going home and the road was frozen…”

“Oh…” 

“What am I going to do without her?” I whisper “I… I feel like someone took something away from me, a part of my heart. A-and she left thinking that I betrayed her… she left and no one told me because Harry said…”

“Harry knew?” Lando frowned. “And he didn't tell you?”

“N-no…” I mumble, looking up at him. “He told her parents that we argued… That's why they didn't call me”

Lando took a deep breath and kissed my forehead. He held my hand and kissed it.  

“This just made me realize how scared I am to lose you” I said looking at him.

“You won't lose me” he said, cupping my cheek and resting his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. “You won't lose me, ever. I made a promise, remember? I promised that I will never let you go, that I will never leave you”

“What am I supposed to do, Lando?” I whisper. “I lost Eloise because of a car… How am I supposed to feel knowing that you work in one? I just…”

“You will never lose me” he repeated, squeezing my hand. “I'll make sure of that. I'll start every race and finish it to be next to you. You are my checkered flag. I'll race as much as I have to just to get out of the car and hold you”

“Just… never leave me” I whisper. “Never, okay?”

“Never” he nodded. “You have my heart, I can't live without it. Just keep it safe with you and everything will be alright”

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[sgiandubh]

Ugh, your recent anons, we get it, Cait is the best actress on television and Sam's the worst actor. But for the record anon, Money Monster with all the Oscar winners you could shake a stick at was not good and she was forgettable in it, Ford vs. Ferrari she was in it for 10 minutes and was almost an afterthought. Belfast obviously was the part that, while not making her a household name was a breakthrough role for her. I think Sam picked crappy movies, I think he took a lot of things because he was concerned that he wouldn't work again and it was offered and fit the schedule. Although, I liked TCND. I do like how he has said recently that he has said no to a lot of things and he understands that the next thing he picks after Outlander is really important. For you and these hateful anons (for different reasons) perhaps that breakthrough is out there for him and people can stop doubting his ability or maybe he'll stop acting and they can find something else to complain about.

Dear Decent Anon,

Thank you for a balanced feedback in this insane inbox, at last!

I am confident the breakthrough is out there for both of them, but very skeptical about haters' ability to stop hating. By now, those women need their daily fix, no matter what 🙄

Whatever he might choose to do, he will probably do it well. He's a man with a plan - always was.

I have nothing else to add to your common sense rant. You're always welcome on this page, Anon, I like the way you think!

[writingquestionsanswered]

hi!! i'm currently writing a story which revolves majorly around time travel, specifically to the past. however i'm facing a problem of not being able to describe it properly, i don't exactly know how to write about it. do you have any tips that could help me? thank you!

Trouble Describing Time Travel

I'm making a leap here in assuming that when you say "I'm having trouble describing it," the "it" in question is time travel. If you meant something else, please feel free to resubmit with clarification. :)

Time travel--in terms of traveling back to the past or forward to the future--is a fictional concept that has appeared in storytelling for centuries. It has been depicted a million different ways... some characters travel through time in a "time machine," like in The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, Hot Tub Time Machine, Back to the Future, Doctor Who, and Timeless. Some people travel backward or forward in time by stepping through some sort of time portal, such as in the Terminator universe, Outlander, Mirai, and Kate & Leopold.) Some people travel via a special device like a clock or a pendant. In Somewhere in Time, the main character used self-hypnosis to travel to the past. In Octavia Butler's Kindred, the main character is pulled through time every time something particular happens in the time she's linked to.

My first point is that how you describe time travel depends first on the method you use... are they using a time machine? A time portal? A time travel device? Something else?

My second point is that how you specifically portray and describe time travel through that method is entirely up to you. Since time machines, time portals, time devices, and other methods of time travel aren't real, there's no right or wrong in how you portray them or describe them. It's entirely fictional. As long as you make it make sense in your story, that's all that matters.

Your job as a writer is to use your imagination to envision the circumstances you want to illustrate. You may look to other stories for inspiration and ideas. You might even find that inspiration in real life. Either way, the functionality of time travel in your story, and how you specifically describe how it looks and feels to the characters, is entirely up to you as the writer! Have fun with it! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[janeturenne]

I hate doing self-promotion but I like writing even more so here we are again!

I (and @medlockmadness!) have written a novel about our historical OCs. It includes, in no particular order, the following: - forbidden longings - copious literary allusions - secret moonlit assignations - dashing Scots - respectable Victorian ladies who nevertheless refuse to accept being used by shitty dudes and insist on fighting for their own happiness If any of that sounds like fun to you, or if you've enjoyed my writing in the past, please take a look! It's free and your views and feedback would really help me out. It's fully written, and new chapters are posting every Tuesday and Friday. Thank you!

[ringio]

The Leper King

Chapter 3 - Stained Silk ⚜️👑💖

Author's foreword: English is not my native language, so my humble skills were not sufficient to translate this fanfic and share it with a wider audience. However, the current accessibility of AI has somewhat simplified the task and solved the problem. Of course, I made minor adjustments to the AI-generated version to enhance a natural, organic flow. Hopefully, the result is not much worse than the original. I decided to start with the 3rd chapter because it is one of the most sensual and touching parts of the story, allowing readers to grasp the general mood and main intrigue without any spoilers. If it receives a positive feedback, I will continue with the translation.

Main characters: Baudouin (Baldwin IV), the young leper king-knight of Jerusalem in the late 11th century. I chose to spell his name as French (Baudouin) as it seems more accurate according to history. Elin is a foreign healer and herbalist of royal (tsar) origin, a young, educated, and beautiful girl.

*****

The alluring aromas of various meat and vegetable dishes, pastries, and spices wafted through the air. The rapid footsteps of the staff, the clinking of dishes, the rustling of clothing, and other sounds of fussy activity were continuously heard from the hall. Harmonious, pleasant music created a festive mood. Something magical and surreal was hidden in all this commotion. Despite the busy preparations, the atmosphere in the castle was more cozy and welcoming, rather than solemn.

"It's just a meeting of local feudal lords," said one of the court ladies helping Elin with her attire. "No foreigners this time. Usually, we have more visitors. Probably the king is not feeling well and doesn't want outlanders gossiping about his illness, so he has reduced the number of guests."

"Our king is in much better shape than some of the current foreign rulers, both physically and intellectually," objected Elin to her assistant. "I'm sure he has no reason to limit the reception of guests. I think the format of today's event simply doesn't involve the arrival of foreigners."

Sensing the obvious disappointment in Elin's tone, the court lady quickly changed the subject to women's trinkets, offering some amazing jewelry sets. The girl chose small dangling earrings with chrysolite, which perfectly matched her magnificent dress made of light silk embroidered with silver threads. Loose curls were held back with an elegant tiara entwined with fragrant jasmine branches. The festive decoration emphasized Elin's natural beauty and at the same time created the image of a mythical fairy.

The healer was able to see her king only in the evening, when the arriving guests had gathered in the hall around a long table. Baudouin looked stunning. Nothing about him revealed a serious illness. Even the mask and gloves, designed to hide the wounds inflicted by the disease, seemed like a successful addition to his masculine, knightly appearance. His calm gait and open demeanor only enhanced the overall favorable impression. It's no wonder that the monarch completely captivated the audience's attention, and even the most delicious food and drinks could barely distract the guests from His Majesty.

Approaching Elin, the young man reached out his hand to escort her to the table. Politely bowing, the beauty touched his palm and followed him. But suddenly, feeling a sharp jerk downwards, the girl saw that Baudouin fell to one knee, his mask fell off and rolled on the floor, exposing his disfigured face. Holding the king by the elbow and shielding him with her long flowing hair, Elin fearfully called out to the knights.

"Everything is fine, my dear. I just stumbled on the uneven flooring. I'm much more accustomed to being in the saddle than parading here on Persian carpets," he hastened to reassure the beauty.

Several strong men rushed to help their patron. The guests gasped in amazement and began to whisper. Within a couple of seconds, nothing prevented them from admiring the monarch again. It seemed that Baudouin was not at all embarrassed by the awkward incident. As usual, he radiated charismatic confidence and composure.

It was the first time Elin had seen the real face of the king. The girl knew that Baudouin was not ashamed of his flaws and could easily do without a mask among his close associates, who were accustomed to his illness. However, the fact that the young king appeared in such a vulnerable state in front of a wide audience was quite pitiful. Leprosy had not yet destroyed his natural attractiveness. Nevertheless, the lesions on his skin turned out to be more significant than the healer had expected, and this especially upset her. Elin guessed that the cause of the fall was not a fold or any unevenness on the carpet, but his injured feet.

On the same night, right after the revel, she persuaded the king to allow her to thoroughly examine him. As usual, Baudouin resisted and tried to find a reason to evade.

"How can I heal you if I don't see the whole picture?!" the girl exclaimed, pacing the room and actively gesticulating. "It's just ridiculous! A doctor must have access to their patient to observe even the slightest changes in their condition."

The healer was so engrossed in her own monologue that she even forgot about the presence of the monarch for a while.

"Elin," the young man decisively interrupted her and took off his ceremonial mantle, and then his tunic...

The beauty froze. Inside her, it felt as if everything had shrunk, and she dared not say a word anymore. Biting her lip, the healer quietly approached Baudouin. Suspicions were confirmed: the king had suffered enough physically, and therefore some movements were difficult for him.

Concentrating on studying the lesions, the girl gently touched some areas of his skin. Baudouin caught every movement, trying to guess whether this sight disgusted her. At some point, the young man stopped the girl, pressing her palm to his chest. He looked at Elin in confusion. Understanding Baudouin's discomfort, the beauty gently kissed his injured hand and then continued her work. This sweet and sincere gesture immediately brought inner relief to the king.

Upon returning to her room, Elin discovered that her wonderful dress had been quite stained due to the procedures she had performed. Burying her face in the blood-stained fabric, the beauty burst into tears. "A treasure in my hands... so strong and yet so fragile. No, I won't give up. We will definitely defeat this disease!" she decided.

The original text was translated using ChatGPT. Images:  Book cover character: the movie 'Kingdom of Heaven'   Photo of the carpet: unsplash.com

Video trailer:

[black-arcana]

Xandria announce new EP “Universal Tales” for November 22, 2024

German symphonic metal icons Xandria are about to chart new paths with their epic upcoming nine-track EP, “Universal Tales”, out on November 22, 2024 via Napalm Records! This EP follows the success of their latest top 10 charting album (German charts), “The Wonders Still Awaiting” (2023), which introduced an impressive new line up featuring the fantastic Ambre Vourvahis, who stuns audiences with her vocal talent that blends elements of rock grit, operatic highs and even growls.

This fresh sounding masterpiece highlights Xandria’s reinvention by elevating their trademarks to a new level, setting the bar for modern symphonic metal while presenting four brand new majestic songs that showcase the band’s refined versatility and impressive intensity.

Today, Xandria unveils the new offering of the upcoming EP, “No Time to Live Forever”, together with a visually stunning official music video. Driving drums and fast-paced riffs underscore the dramatic lyrics of the apparent loss of reason in the world and the rise of chaos, while the five-piece aligns with their signature sound of impressive orchestral interludes and the majestic operatic highs of vocalist Ambre.

You already know ‘Universal’ from our upcoming EP, and after receiving such overwhelmingly positive feedback from you, it is now time for ‘No Time To Live Forever’. If you loved the bombastic choirs and operatic vocals in ‘Universal’, you are in for a treat with this one… prepare for a ride!Xandria

Each of the songs highlight a different facet of Xandria’s musical range, alongside a new recording and beautifully re-arranged version of the title track from their recent album, “The Wonders Still Awaiting”. From bombastic film score atmospheres, choir-and-orchestra-driven anthems to real Celtic atmospheres and instruments like fiddle and whistles, the songs blend both classic and modern metal influences. “Universal Tales” offers a wealth of discoveries, while singer Ambre Vourhavis explores new heights and depths in her voice, making her even stronger than on the last album.

The former standalone single “Universal”, alongside an official music video, is a statement in support of a free, open, and diverse society, standing against authoritarianism and religious fundamentalism. It is dedicated to Jina Mahsa Amini and all those fighting for freedom. “Live the Tale” focuses on the apparent loss of reason in the world, showcasing that despite dark clouds, humankind could head in a positive direction as there is so much yet undiscovered and so much potential in mankind to live the tale of its imagination. On “200 Years”, Xandria fully embraces their Celtic roots like never before and explores the realms of the well-known book and TV series “Outlander”. Accented by renowned violinist Ally Storch (Subway To Sally), mesmerizing violin merges with resolute drums and with the blockbuster-like atmosphere, immediately transporting fans to distant realms, fighting for a free and fair world.

The “Universal Tales” EP concludes with orchestral versions of the four new tracks and will be released just before the band embarks on worldwide tours with genre peers Sirenia and Delain in the fall of 2024 and spring of 2025. While Marco Heubaum once again oversaw the recordings as the producer, Jacob Hansen (Volbeat, Arch Enemy, Evergrey) handled the mixing and mastering.

This EP is a big ‘Thank you!!’ to all our fans who welcomed us back in such an amazing and heartwarming way last year. The energy and connection we felt during our live shows with you inspired us to quickly write new songs, and we couldn’t wait to share them with you. Each of the new songs shows a different side of us, so there’s a lot to discover on this EP – and we can’t wait to play these new songs live for you! We’ll see you all at our shows in Europe this November and in North America next March!Xandria

Pre-Order Your Copy of “Universal Tales” NOW:

“Universal Tales” tracklisting: 1. No Time To Live Forever 2. Universal 3. 200 Years (feat. Ally Storch) 4. Live The Tale 5. The Wonders Still Awaiting (Acoustic Film Score Version) 6. No Time To Live Forever (Orchestral Version) 7. Universal (Orchestral Version) 8. 200 Years (Orchestral Version / feat. Ally Storch) 9. Live The Tale (Orchestral Version)   “Universal Tales” will be available in the following formats: 1LP Gatefold BLACK 1CD Digipak + 2CD Mediabook (incl. 2CD Mediabook “The Wonders Still Awaiting”) – (Napalm Records Mailorder exclusive) 1CD Digipak  Digital Album

Xandria Live 2024/25 Double Headliner Tour w/ Sirenia 19.11.24 PL – Warsaw / Hydrozagadka 20.11.24 CZ – Prague / Storm 21.11.24 AT – Vienna / Viper Room 23.11.24 IT – Milan / Legend Club 24.11.24 CH – Pratteln / Z7 25.11.24 DE – Berlin / Cassiopeia 26.11.24 DE – Munich / Backstage Club 27.11.24 DE – Essen / Turock 28.11.24 BE – Kortrijk / DVG Club 29.11.24 DE – Hamburg / Headcrash 30.11.24 NL – Uden / De Pul   North American Tour 2025 Xandria as special guest for Delain w/ Edge Of Paradise 07.03.25 US – Phoenix, AZ / The Nile 08.03.25 US – Los Angeles, CA / Whisky a Go Go 09.03.25 US – Sacramento, CA / Goldfield Trading Post 10.03.25 US – Portland, OR / The Bossanova Ballroom 11.03.25 US – Seattle, WA / El Corazon 13.03.25 US – Salt Lake City, UT / Metro Music Hall 14.03.25 US – Denver, CO / The Oriental Theater 15.03.25 US – Lawrence, KS / Bottleneck 16.03.25 US – Joliet, IL / The Forge 17.03.25 US – Detroit, MI / The Token Lounge 19.03.25 US – Columbus, OH / The King of Clubs 20.03.25 CA – Toronto, ON / Axis 21.03.25 CA – Montreal, QC / Fairmount Theatre 22.03.25 US – Cambridge, MA / Middle East 23.03.25 US – New York, NY / The Gramercy Theatre 24.03.25 US – Baltimore, MD / Soundstage 26.03.25 US – Atlanta, GA / Masquerade (Hell) 28.03.25 US – Dallas, TX / Granada Theater 29.03.25 US – Austin, TX / Come and Take It Live   Xandria are: Ambre Vourvahis – Vocals Marco Heubaum – Guitar Robert Klawonn – Guitar Tim Schwarz – Bass Dimitrios Gatsios – Drums

[monikafilefan]

20 Questions for Fanfic Writers

Tagged by @slippinmickeys <3

1. How many works do you have on A03?

75 (maybe one day I’ll reach 100?)

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

589,435

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Basically just txf fandom but I have dabbled in GoT, The Fall, and Sex Ed.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Five Years and a Lifetime

Only One Choice

All Eyes Lead to the Truth co-written

Together

Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance

5. Do you respond to comments?

I absolutely do, just not every one of them. Unfortunately A03 counts author responses as comments and that bugs me, but I wholly appreciate any and all feedback!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh damn. Probably a chapter in my prompts collection called That Night in 2014 when Scully left, and one called Bone Deep set post Tithonus are angsty enough. I love writing angst, but prefer to leave my fic on less of a dreary note.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ha it turns out I write a lot of fic with happier endings, but I guess Brother Bill ended very happily considering it was during the cancer arc. There’s plenty more I could’ve chosen though.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what?

Yes, I mix it up. Lots of soft, sensual sex, but also some downright dirty smut too. Depends on the tone of the story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I wrote one where Mulder and Scully go see Jean Milburn from Sex Education and have a therapy session. Coming Undone. It’s ridiculous and funny and was way too fun to write haha!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of but I hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes but I can’t remember which one 🫣

13. Have you ever co-written before?

YES many times and I love it. I’ve written with several amazing writers @cultureisdarkbeer @admiralty-xfd @fridaysat9 @gaycrouton @slippinmickeys one several different fics.

14. What’s your all time fave ship?

MSR ofc! I do also love Jamie/Claire and Stella/Reed.

15. What WIP you want to finish?

I have this Unruhe fic that isn’t even that long but I cannot seem to fucking finish it for the life of me. I will eventually though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Details? Creating a scene and capturing the characters as close to THEM as I possibly can comes easier to me than other things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably dialogue and writing longer novel length fics.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I want to dive into the Outlander fandom very badly but I’m too scared to try Gaelic/accents and be happy with the outcome. Maybe one day.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

X-Files! I was just a wee 15yr old on my dialup desktop trying to write a post FTF fic on the original XF storyboards. I never did finish it past the second chapter.

20. Fave fics you’ve written?

I have a few I really love, but I am kind of hard on myself as a writer. I enjoy writing but can’t seem to reread my own stuff and come away beaming about it. The ones off the top of my head I’m proud and have not mentioned above of are A Life to Remember - an AU were Mulder and Scully are doctors and meet under interesting circumstances. Lots of UST, angst and family fluff as they flashback to their past on how they met.The Things They Say in the Dark is another one I love. It has angst, lots of hurt/comfort (not to mention Scully washing Mulder’s hair post Amor Fati) and serious yearning! Honestly love these two so feel free to check them out if you haven’t, I’d be blessed if you loved them too!

Tagging @today-in-fic and anyone else who wants to join in. This was fun!

[arielchelby]

Fic Authors Self Rec

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💕💗

Thanks for the tag @girlwithakiwi!

The Princess and the Bastard

This one will always be my favorite. It started out as me just forcing Jon and Dany to meet earlier so I could write smut and then a plot developed. I wonder what would happen if they did this! It's been on hiatus for a while but I will finish this one 😊

Burn and Consume

This was my first venture into enemies to lovers/arranged marriage and I loved it. The smut was full of feels, had to be different every time and was the main plot line lol Writing the developing romance between them and the character development was my favorite.

Under the Same Stars

I love all my fic, but I could really geek out about this one. I really enjoyed the first season of Outlander and writing Dany falling back in time to Westeros has been a blast. I get to mix canon and modern dialogue, and I get to write romantic and angsty feels 💕

Lure Me to Hell

This one is a collab with @moondancer71 and it is so much fun! I definitely have a soft spot for writing a darker Jon and a softer (slightly) Dany. The character dynamics in this one give us a chance to write more humor and I love weaving in the magical parts. Also, apparently I have a blast writing famous ASOIAF ghosts terrorizing them in Castle Black lol

In Another Life

Writing this really helped me work through the feels of season 8, and I've gotten a lot of feedback over the years since I wrote it that it helped a lot of other people work through that too. So this one always holds a special place in my heart ❤️

Tagging @alwaysdaenerys @littledancer9 @rhaegarblackfire @ashleyfanfic @leesielex and anyone else who wants to join of course!

[thegmscreen]

Asking this as an anon but how do you suggest handling a dm that's railroading both you and the party because of his religion?

He practices neo-paganism (the Norse one) and he was bullying the person in our party who was playing as an artificer because "This god doesn't like technology" and then tried force my character who is an outlander to become a noble girl after trying to for my character to marry an npc before he got yelled at by the other players about the marrying thing.

Some advice would be greatly appreciated...

Howdy Anon! Apologies taking this long to get to your reply but yeah we at the Gm screen have a few thoughts on the matter.

While personal perspectives and beliefs are an important source for someone to pull from when creating campaigns for a game to be functional there needs to be compromise between Players and Gm. It’s been our experience that the best games are when the Gm and players are a team working together to create a story where everyone is having fun and it sounds like your Gm is making you and possibly the other players uncomfortable.

Our advice would to be talk to the other players and approach the Gm about the railroading and get their reaction. If that conversation doesn’t inspire confidence based on your Gm’s reaction to feedback then we would highly recommend finding another group. Tabletop is an amazing hobby but it shouldn’t make anyone feel uncomfortable or be a one man show. Bad Tabletop is worse than no Tabletop after all.

[lord-jen-grey]

What factors inspired you to write like this ? PS: I love your work !! x

Thank you so much! It's very kind of you to say. I didn't study to be a writer in school, so my path in this direction was a bit circuitous.

A number of factors inspired me (and continue to inspire me). In regards to the Outlander stories I've written, the source material (books and show) were extremely inspirational, and I wanted to spend more time in that world with the characters I fell in love with. No other book or show comes close for me.

Another inspiration comes from my previous fandom. There is a crack ship on General Hospital (yes, I was raised a soap girl) that never played out on screen, but there are 3 writers who wrote for that ship (Lolexis) who were absolutely brilliant. EllenSmithee, Lionel, and Lsquared. Ellen knocked my socks off the first time I read her work, and I have never recovered. I reread her story (30 days) at least once a year. It has the best character development (and SEX) of anything I have ever read...ever! My writing can't live up to hers, and I don't even try, but I've learned so much from her about things like how to use sex as more than sex (it's plot too!), how to sit with an intense emotion in a scene, and the basics of nicely flowing sentence/paragraph structures (I'm constantly learning more about this). From Lionel, I learned how to lean into certain tropes, how to use plot to drive the story forward, and the beauty of simplicity.

Other inspirations come from media I consume. Listening to the likes of Pixar storytellers and Phoebe Waller Bridge discuss how they craft a story have had HUGE impacts on me. Without them, Journey would never have turned into what it is now. Another author, She-who-must-not-be-named, taught me how to unfold a mystery. And then there is Diana. She employs storytelling strategies that are utterly brilliant, and they've strongly influenced the way I write.

For years, I've studied philosophy and various other academic fields related to human behavior, and ventured into deep, emotional places with a variety of people. It's had a massive influence on how I craft a character and their journey.

More recently, I've been working with a professional editor who has helped me identify and clean up some of my bad habits, and she has helped with shining a light on missed emotional beats and plot holes. She's incredible. My beta, Lis, has done this for me a millions times over as well.

The biggest influence on my writing has been to just write. I've written more than 2 millions words in the last 6-7 years, and I experimented with perspectives, tropes, character development strategies, outlines, etc. Rereading my own work helps me recognize areas for growth and already established strengths.

Feedback from readers has been invaluable and a HUGE motivator.

I hope this answers your question. Sorry it took so long. I wanted to ensure I took the time to think it through and give a decent response.

[trevlad]

Invisible Club 29

04.09.2024

Intro 00:00 Silentwave–TAMATEBAKO 01:19 Actress–Pluto ( a 2 ) 07:35 gribbles–And Where Did You Come From 10:14 Mike Dickinson–Feedback 14:14 Pulselovers–Cleeve Hill 18:32 Veryan–Cross Hands 21:13 iNFO–Resolute 25:28 Fabio Borgazzi–Marcia Stonata 3 31:36 Gravité–Elation 33:05 Einseinseins–Graf Zahl 36:38 Neil Cowley Trio–Garden of Love 38:59 Site Nonsite–Moss Garden 42:18 The NRG–Megadog 47:29 Hverheij–In the Outland 54:36 Beefus B–Little Funk Hammer Stuttered as a Child 57:00 Onepointwo–Throbbing Motor Lifeforms 59:30 Outro 1:03:07