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fangirlinglikeabus · 2 years

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my hot dr who novelisations takes, season 6 edition

the dominators by ian marter ian marter, bless him, tries so hard to make this interesting. and i’d just like to say for the record that if this book is at all bad, those are largely problems with the original serial, not the book. honestly i think he’s just working with a particularly uninspiring script, and while there are a few weak bits (zoe is momentarily threatened, it cuts away, and then cuts back with ‘fortunately for zoe’ someone else had fallen over, which is a bit rubbish as a way of dealing with threat and i think is on marter; i don’t know why he mentions some of the characters getting into a hair-raising skirmish on the way somewhere if he’s not going to show it) mostly i don’t want to pay attention to what i see as flaws with the source material. there’s some lovely descriptive bits, like the opening of the ship landing. something which i hadn’t realised other novelisations were missing is dialogue tags that actually make reading pages of script content interesting without overdoing it, which i think marter does a good job of. i love the contrast between kully’s utter horror at this strange thing appearing out of nowhere and the mundanity of the police public call box sign and the small scruffy man wandering out. it’s pretty cool that the dominators’ doors are actually disolving walls. marter really makes an effort to have the quarks appear scary - they speak with a ‘crazed falsetto’, and their guns leave pulverised remains. he also includes a pretty grim description of what turn out to be dummies in the museum - and only reveals them as dummies (and not corpses) after one of their heads falls off, thanks ian! minor changes - jamie calls a quark a wee porridge pot instead of tin kettle, zoe as far as i can recall doesn’t wear a t-shirt and slacks on screen and she does here, the doctor makes an atrocious egg-based pun after blowing up the dominators’ ship with the ‘egg bomb’ (nice to know wildly inappropriate jokes didn’t start with 6). for some reason jamie’s surname is spelled ‘maccrimmon.’ i’m assuming that’s an editing error or something. also, is it just me, or does this line come across as faintly homoerotic: ‘kully glanced with grudging admiration at the brawny highlander’s bulging calves as he strained upwards.’ all this to say - i might not recommend this, but that’s because i wouldn’t recommend the dominator’s full stop, and i don’t think that’s ian marter’s fault - he does his best with what he’s given.

the mind robber by peter ling so i really liked this one in a lot of ways because i really felt it played around with the kind of thing you can do in prose that they couldn’t on screen. mainly that’s in small things, like the tardis setting being slightly expanded, zoe seeing her mother in the void, the mirror versions of her and jamie having white hair, more weather effects than could be done in studios, various scenes with floating words - including, delightfully, the karkus coming free with comic book sound effects. episode one is quite different: we open with the doctor in a forest before entering into flashback, the context of the dominators is entirely erased (instead the eruption is them on vesuvius for a scientific expedition), and the ending has the doctor falling off into space rather than as a revolving head. we also get a lot of literary references, even more than the original. zoe briefly changes into alice in wonderland, jamie discovers a room with all the world’s stories that shows him a christmas carol and little women, zoe and the doctor wander through miss havisham’s house. which unfortunately brings me to the minor things that irritated me: the doctor presumes that the mansion is from ‘the pen of a passionate female novelist’ because it must ‘belong to some strange, tortured heroine of romance’ (which is especially baffling as a comment given...charles dickens wasn’t a woman last i checked), and jamie makes a sexist comment re: the expediency of arguing with girls. however, i did largely enjoy it, and we also get some nice detail for jamie of his memories of barn dances and rock climbing with his siblings, so that’s nice. oh, and he calls zoe a ‘poor, ignorant creature’ for being unaware of bagpipes. oh, and because i’m apparently cataloguing this obsessively now, the arbitrary change in jamie’s appearance for this novel is that he has freckles now. plus, while i think there’s at least one eu story that handles the meta element of the land of fiction in prose better, the doctor does get to declare this story’s end for us, which was nice.

the invasion by ian marter ok so right out the gate there’s a lot of really bloody violence in this one, even for the novelisations - a description of a guy being mind-controlled into shooting himself jumps to mind. this is a longer serial so a few scenes are cut - the one i’m most grateful about is the jamie/benton eyerolling over women scene. marter also inserts a few running gags, one about the handheld radio jamie’s given repeatedly switching on (the dr hates this; jamie thinks the tunes are nice), and one where the dr keeps butchering ‘over and out’. the scene where jamie and the doctor are rowing also had some genuinely funny bits. ian marter has once more given the dr a deeply inappropriate pun to close the story on (he replies to the brig’s ‘we’ve got an invasion on our hands’ with ‘it looks like soot to me’ which is especially grim given this soot is implied to be vaughn’s ashes). here’s a few bits i didn’t really like: i could’ve done without the comments on isobel’s legs, the brig calls her and zoe ‘two teenage females’ which is especially weird given i don’t think he does in the original; there’s a line about zoe ‘twirling the boa seductively in the doctor’s face’ which i’m assuming is her joking about because it’s really weird if not. there’s this repeated use of the word sadistic to refer to packer’s intention with zoe and isobel which feels mildly creepy, to say the least. on the other hand, there’s this scene with jamie and the cyberman in a crate together which i thought was really well written; after their escape from the sewer he has a nightmare about a cyberman as well. another noticeable change is that the doctor notices the ‘kilroy was here’ sign and openly wonders who kilroy was (jamie concludes it’s an epitaph after the ‘we get squashed’ conversation). writing this has made me realise there’s a lot of minor changes in here that add up, so while i think marter’s limited in expansion by the amount of content he has to get in (8 parts!) and there are some weird bits that i’m not sure i like (’can we keep her, she’s prettier than a computer’ as a sentiment may be in the original but it’s weird either way, and there’s a part i find absolutely baffling where zoe is irritated by turner’s attentions to isobel so puts her arm around jamie’s waist) it was basically enjoyable, and not, i think, a waste of time. costume notes are that marter’s changed zoe’s outfit again (she’s wearing a trouser suit and only changes into the catsuit at the end) and also only describes jamie as being in a sleeveless waistcoat and kilt, so i’m taking this to mean that he’s not wearing a shirt and is spending this whole novel in sun’s out guns out mode. this is the second marter novelisation where he uses the word bastard - i wonder if he got a 1 use/novelisation allowance or something. finally i think i’ll close it out with this observation: when vaughn asks whom he has the pleasure of speaking to, the doctor replies ‘not whom...who’. ayyy.

the krotons by terrance dicks look, the krotons is at heart a Just Kind Of Okay dr who story marginally elevated by a team tardis with good chemistry. this is a Just Kind Of Okay dr who novelisation which doesn’t really get across some of the comedy (especially zoe and the doctor’s delaying tactics at the end, which are just briefly summarised), explains some of the character (and machine!) motivations while occasionally overexplaining what we could probably already infer, and boosts the budget a bit. there’s a nice line about jamie where he thinks he’s not sure if the doctor’s a magician or a madman but he DOES know he needs jamie to look after him. there’s a really fucking terrible line about one of the gonds, ‘somehow, her outstanding beauty made it hard to believe that she was among the most gifted of her generation of students’. i thought describing jamie as ‘bright enough in his own way’ was a bit patronising, and that ‘the krotons never had any worries about stating the obvious. indeed their whole conversation consisted of a series of such statements’ was a barely veiled jab at the script. mostly it’s just...there, much like the original if i’m being honest. maybe if you’re really desperate to get some character insights into the custodian?

the seeds of death by terrance dicks this is another story i’m very strongly middling on, but it does feel like dicks put in a bit more effort to the novelisation, possibly because he had such a large hand in rewriting the scripts. there’s actually quite a lot about character backstory and interpersonal relationships (osgood and kelly are rivals for promotion, we hear ice leader slaar’s view on both kelly and fewsham, dicks explains why there’s so much empty space on the moonbase). as usual, there’s a bit more violence like bodies imploding from ice warrior guns and the ice warrior getting vaporised from a heat weapon. so if you’re interested in this story already, go for it. HOWEVER i do also have some things i didn’t like to flag. terrance dicks takes the time to tell us that sexism still exists (they solved the fuel crisis but not misogyny?), and he refers to miss kelly both as an ‘icily beautiful young woman’ and ‘an attractive but severe-looking young woman’...sigh. oh, and ‘jamie shook himself like a wet dog’ feels...weird. like it’s animalising a guy who might already get pegged as uncivilised by a privileged english audience. on a lighter note, there are some pretty funny lines - the doctor reacting to being threatened with a gun with indignation as ‘a particularly rotten way to wake up’ made me laugh. i would also like to make an apology, because i’m pretty sure i made the mistake of thinking the doctor’s ‘i’m a genius’ line was from the ice warriors and it’s not, it’s from this. unfortunately i don’t have perfect recall for every dr who episode ever :’(

the space pirates by terrance dicks this was apparently dicks’ last contribution to the original target run and unfortunately. it is not good. now, for the record, i’m not fundamentally opposed to the space pirates, and i think there may even be room to get a genuinely good story out of it! this is not that. it’s really solidified a big complaint i have about a lot of these novelisations, which is that they’re not really approached with the understanding that script and prose are two very different mediums and any story needs more than a rudimentary adaptation when being brought from one to the other, so everything ends up feeling mildly underwhelming because it’s not working with the strengths of the format! like, i suppose i liked a few of the scene setting descriptions, and we get a few background sketches of characters, and we learn why dom chills out so quickly even though he’s been locked up for years, but equally there’s awkward expositionary bits that really should’ve been ironed out in being adapted...and like, look, i think i’m just let down because i feel like madeleine is a potentially really interesting character, her relationship with her father and her motivations what i think could be the core of this story, and the novelisation does nothing to take advantage of its form to delve into that in any meaningful way! also madeleine just has brown hair instead of that weird hat thing, which isn’t really a flaw i just think it’s a bit of a copout. commit to the weirdness!

doctor who and the war games by malcolm hulke given the volume of material he’s covering in 143 pages, hulke does a genuinely good job. there’s some material that’s understandably curtailed, and while that isn’t always a bad thing (shortening the initial encounter with carstairs and lady jennifer isn’t going to hurt anyone, and i’m personally grateful that he cut jamie’s comment about villar being right about women’s inferiority, no matter whether it’s meant to be teasing) i do think the trial stuff suffers a bit from it: we no longer have the ‘while you have been content to observe’ speech and the farewell of jamie and zoe felt shorter. on the other hand, i really felt like hulke took advantage of the freedom of prose in some ways - far more wars are featured than on screen, for one, and there are a lot more named soldiers and scenes from their perspectives. honestly i think that works very well thematically for this story - it actively disproves what the war lords believe, that humans only matter as cannon fodder for them to use. however, this does make it more jarring when we have a black character who’s only ever referred to by an outdated racial term who immediately dies. he’s not the only character to be referred to in that way, there are a few characters called by their nationality, but given 60s who’s paucity of black characters anyway it stood out to me - it’s not that hard to give him a name! also, it’s not a deal breaker but it does frustrate me when only female characters are called attractive by the narrator and that was the case with lady jennifer - and it’s still egregious that she, the only other woman apart from zoe, disappears partway through the story (especially since the narrator outright admits sergeant russell is ‘trying to think of a reason’ to get her out of the picture). on a narrative level i think a minor quibble i have is that the jamie gets shot fakeout doesn’t quite work when we’ve been told before the shooting that it’s a stun gun. overall, though, despite minor quibbles i do think i’d recommend this one, and i think hulke works well with the format. other bits i thought were neat include opening with an epigraph from the chief war lord, actually paying attention to the fact that not everyone speaks english (there’s dialogue in a few languages including german, and the resistance uses translators), lady jennifer asking zoe if she’s a socialist (because zoe thinks that if a woman is in charge there wouldn’t be wars...laughs in post-thatcher britain), the us apparently doesn’t exist any more in zoe’s time! there are more people explicitly killed on the page than on screen, and the ending is slightly different, concluding not with the doctor’s regeneration but the people who sentenced him lamenting the necessity of banishment: ‘he would have brightened the place up no end.’ finally, babe wake up new mccrimmon variation just dropped: macrimon. did they not have anyone checking these things??

#doctor who #classic who #second doctor #jamie mccrimmon #zoe heriot #two #laura reads dw books #target marathon #oh my GOD this one took me ages....busy semester i guess #anyway. tis done. end of an era etc etc.

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slut4sway · 1 year

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Anywherebound / chapter X : be my vice

Baby, you got something in your nose Sniffing that K, did you feel the hole? Hope you find peace for yourself New boyfriend ain't gon' fill the void

Do you even really like this track? Take away the drugs, would you feel the noise? More and more you try to run away You fucking yourself, do you feel the toy?

❄️•••••••••••••••••••⚓️

tw : drug use

•••••••••••••••••••

6/5/23

1:27 pm

A faint knock at the door jolts Jamie back to reality. Here he is at it again, left alone with his thoughts for maybe a little too long and he finds himself spreading out a baggie of coke on his marble countertop, propped up by his elbows on the island as he took a quick glance at the door; and being the hothead he is, he inhales the entire messy line that stretched halfway across. His nose traveled around slightly out of place as he tried to get up all he needed in his nasal cavity.

He could hear Mason at the door, questioning something he couldn't properly make out as he tripped up the ledge to the front door. He had only just done a line, how could it have hit him like a bus so quick?

It didn't. Not yet, at least.

It was all the revelry going on. Everywhere. The stress, his head, the moment, Mason's mere existence, and the ear-splitting silence he broke with his faulty steps.

Jamie twisted the doorknob, and slightly pulled it open as Mason scanned him with his... his eyes. The ones he knew all too well. His dusty brown tinted curls were overgrown, forming a thin curtain over his eyes. Mason's gaze was soft, but Jamie could still feel the thick and heavy honey dripping from those pools of golden brown. His lips were pursed like he wanted to say something but was in such a state of confusion and shock he couldn't form the words.

''James..''

Jamie perked up, his eyelashes fluttering as he leaned on the doorway slightly tipping forward into Mason's space like he was drawn by a magnet.

''Wh- what?''

''Did you uh.. are you on anything?'' Mason was still nice to him, but there was something else between them that made their hearts ache and long for something. Sure, he was a fucking wreck but at least he wouldn't leave him to die like Trevor did. Not like that fucker who made him fall for him by pushing him. His presence made Jamie fall for him. Why did he have to be so goddamn loveable? He ate him alive because he fucking let him. The boy he loved the most left him skin and bones.

Mason was here now. Jamie was here, now. In the present. He wasn't sobbing on the ground, right where Trevor left him.

Something flits across Mason's eyes. Maybe it was the coke talking. Behind him, as he still stood on his porch, the sky is a quilt of fluffy clouds. Noticing the world made him float away even more. The closer he gets to it, the faster he slips away. If only Mason would touch him, smile, speak, or just anything. Maybe his hallucinations made him speak his mind out loud, but not like he'd ever know. Mason brought up a soft hand, swiping away the leftover powder from his nose before he pulls him into a hug. He smelled like the bittersweetness of coffee and whiskey with undertones of sandalwood. He smells like home.

Jamie could feel a fire inside Mason which wasn't burning, but warming. He feels like home.

''Everyone can be helped. Trust me on that. I've got you.'' Mason's kind, considerate words just let Jamie melt into him further. Some tears escaped his faintly bloodshot eyes, then followed by the waterworks. Whine after whine, sob after sob, ''if he loved me where is he now'' after ''if he loved me where is he now''s. When he gets overwhelmed, it all hits him at once. It's like a hurricane picking up every terrible thing he's done, the people he's ruined and left broken, every slash with a razor, every single thing down to the minute details.

Mctavish just let him fall apart onto him, as he gently lifted his legs from underneath him and rotated him in a comfortable position.

''Right here. Let it all out. Always gonna be here.'' Oh, Mason. Oh, Mason. If only he knew what he was getting himself into.

He closed the door with his foot and made slow, steady strides to the couch. Jamie was heavy, but he'd deal. He let himself sink into the cushions, with the boy still sobbing in his arms with his own wrapped around his neck.

Mason loved the damage, and Jamie was overflowing with it.

Jamie's cheek bloomed red before he began unexpectedly sucking on Mason's collarbone. He could tell he enjoyed it for a second. For fucks sake, he was pressed up against the guy and could feel everything going on from his belt buckle to six inches down his left thigh. He's no stranger to fucking up, and he know he shouldn't have done what he did when Mason pulled his head away.

''Jim, what the fuck was that?'' Mason cried, confusion and hurt in his face.

''Mmh. Nothing. Just'm.. let me keep working'' Jamie slurred. Anyone would have thought he was drunk, but no, it was just the coke talking.

''Aren't you still with Trevor, and like... I do want you, just not wanting to be a rebound of you, feel me?'' Mason tried to sever contact, but Jamie was all over him.

''Not a rebound. Promise you, baby.'' Even in this state of mind, Jamie thought of everything that could set Mason off. Experimenting when he's not supposed to be taught him a lot. He's never slept with Mason or any of his friends besides Trevor, but he knew the type of person Mctavish was. Lucky guess, perhaps.

Jamie slid a hand up his shirt, as the tears dried on his cheeks. Things were escalating, and they were climbing fast.

''Damn it, why do you have to be so..'' The curlyhead's voice dripped like honey, and Jamie was lapping up every last drop.

''I know. I know I am.'' Jamie's cocky affirmations went straight Mason's dick, as it gave a meaningless twitch underneath his sweats.

Jamie wasted no time hooking his fingers underneath Mason's waistband and tugging it down to his ankles. He was already rocking half a chub but it didn't stop Jamie from taking all of him into his mouth. He could already feel him growing, as his tip poked at the back of Jamie's throat.

Mason suppressed noises of pure bliss as Jamie started to work his tongue around every vein up to his tip, taking ample time just suckling at his tip before he bottomed out again. Mason watched and interlaced his fingers in Jamie's jet-black hair, where it still moved in unison with his head bobbing.

Jamie could have swore his jaw locked. He made eye contact with Mason and that really sent him over the edge. He could feel his thighs tensing around his head, and his back arching from pleasure. Jamie then quickly pulled off, breaking a thread of saliva connecting their bodies. When he quickly broke stimulation, Mason gave a pitiful whine.

''I was so.. close.'' He panted, watching hazily as Jamie struggled to pull his flannel pajama pants off, followed by his overside t-shirt. Jamie then worked Mason's own shirt off, as well as slipping Mason's sweats off his ankles.

Everything moved so incredibly quick. One second Jamie was lining himself up and the next he was taking Mason inch by inch until he had all of him. Being unprepared made it hurt, but it hurt so good.

Maybe that's why Mason loves the damage and Jamie loves the hurt.

It wasn't long before Mason stopped trying to keep quiet. He let out almost every vulgar, desperate sound imaginable. Letting his hands explore Jamie's body made it harder to hold out. Jamie breathed heavily, with his nose buried in Mason's jaw. Small sweat droplets from both of their slick faces mixed together, making the quick chaste kiss taste salty and grossly warm; despite what they were doing.

''Right- right there babe, so close'' Jamie whispered into his ear as he nipped at Mason's earlobe.

They both couldn't hold it any longer.

Their bodies released all tension, including some moans unintentionally held back they both climaxed and spilled out, all unraveling for each other.

''I don't think you, or even me knows how wrong that was'' Coming down from his high brought Mason back to reality. He just fucked his best friend.

No. Way. Absolutely. Not. This couldn't be real.

But it was all real. So tangible and right in front of him, trying to catch a breath while he was coming down from his climax, and his high from the coke he snorted earlier.

''You know I never do anything right''

Jamie devilishly smiled against his cheek with his false grandeur.

•

He couldn't ever pinpoint when, where, and why Jamie fell for the next best option after Trevor but he scrapes it up to just rebounding and it will hopefully pass.

Trevor promised something he could no longer remember. But he knew it was long since broken.

Mason is just another one of Jamie's many vices.

#Spotify #jamie drysdale #mason mctavish #anywherebound #mens hockey rpf

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the-supernova-system · 2 years

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I have met our Host twice.

The first time, he mostly just introduced himself and left.

The second time, he stabbed me, with what was clearly what I like to call a Slaughter Knife™️

#jamie floats in the void of space!

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apollon-and-jamie-ig · 2 years

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I have officially heard the wonderful "Season 1 Tim Don't Stop Me Now Sing-a-Long" and I am VERY happy about it!

#jamie floats in the void of space!

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leobashi · 4 years

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Haunted house and ghost haunted au crossover?

Okay this is big brain because these two are some of my favorite AUs I’ve made! And spirit stuff?? It’s almost perfect timing too because @suitcasesquid recently updated the Haunted House story here too! It’s a choose your own adventure type of story so go comment what Jackie should do next!!

I’d imagine GH Chase scouted this place out because someone in chat suggested it and it has a very strange history. After just a little bit of research, Chase is convinced that it is haunted.

There were three specific owners who played a part in the strange history. Any other owners couldn’t last a week before moving out. These three owners were normal before they had moved into the house. During their months living there, each one had been reported to have developed strange behavior and after their death, every one of which was apparent suicide, it was confirmed that they had killed people in that very house. The original owner was a suspected witch and many people have theorized that he might’ve been the one to summon some otherworldly being to the house. What’s even weirder is that the house already looks old and dilapidated despite the latest owner only passing about a year or two ago.

It was also reported a few months ago that a boy had gone missing here. He meant to explore the place with some friends and he was assumed to have arrived a little earlier than the others, but although his car, phone and bag were found on the grounds, the boy himself was missing.

It’s 8:14 pm when Chase tells Henrik, Jackie, and chat this inside the house as they start the investigation and live stream at dusk. Chase had four cameras set up beside his own that he carried around with him. One was in the living room where two owners committed suicide, one in the basement where the other owner committed suicide, one in the attic where the rituals supposedly took place, and one outside with a full view of the front of the house.

But soon their flashlights flicker. They light up again and it seemed to have been a strange coincidence. Well, it would’ve been if it wasn’t in a supposedly haunted house. Suddenly, Chase’s camera battery drains to zero. He’s confused and scared, but does his best to replace it with his spare. He knows he charged it, but it was drained as well. His live stream was cut off. He checks his phone, but it’s dead and won’t turn on. So are Henrik’s and Jackie’s

Anti tells them that time and space is being warped. He can feel it. But he doesn’t know what‘s being changed. Henrik pulls up his sleeve to read his analog watch. 8:24 pm

They decide to go to the car to get more batteries and recharge, but the door doesn’t budge. It’s a few minutes more when the sun sets completely outside and they are plunged into darkness with only their flashlights to guide their way. They try to pry the boards off of the windows. They don’t budge or break either. They are stuck in the house.

They go to check the other cameras around the house. Their batteries have been drained as well. They don’t know about the one outside. They have no way of contacting anyone outside the house.

Chase starts to panic. He never thought that he would die to a demon. He’s considered it of course, he’s been on many investigations in many sketchy places, why wouldn’t he consider it? But he’s never truly believed he would die to a demon one day. He starts hyperventilating, but Jackie helps him get a grip on himself. It’s best if they all stay calm.

One by one, they meet the spirits as well.

It’s 8:48 pm on Henrik’s watch when they meet the first spirit. It looks like Chase. The only difference was that the spirit had blood and tears running down its face and a gaping bullet wound on the side of its head. When the spirit looks up, Chase looks it in the eye. Unlike Chase’s own eyes, the spirit's irises are completely black and unreflecting. They were swirling pools of darkness. Not a drop of light shined through. “What are you doing here?” it asked in a distorted, but all too familiar voice. “What do you want?” It took a step forward and the three of them took five steps back. It’s face started to morph from sadness to anger. “What do you want from me?!”

The spirit lunged at them. They all backed up against each other and Chase who was at the forefront threw his arms up in cowering defense. It phased through them and disappeared.

They meet the second spirit around 9:30 pm. It looked like Henrik. Just like the first, its eyes were a dark void. Unlike Henrik, the spirit was covered in lacerations and a wide, terrible grin. It didn’t lunge at them, it took slow careful steps right up to Henrik. “Do you have an appointment?” it asked and tilted its head. Henrik stares it in the eyes and hated how similar they were right down to the height, the voice, the accent, and the walk. “Oh how I would love to cut you up and see what you hold inside!” Suddenly, it pulled a scalpel out of nowhere. Startled, Henrik stumbles back, but the spirit disappears right before their eyes.

The third spirit they met at 10:45 pm. It looked like Jamie. They ran into him suddenly when they returned to the living room and its body hung from the balcony. Its body was unmoving, but its dark eyes follow them across the room. The dripping of its blood from its hands was the only sound they heard as they passed it in scared silence. When they turn back, it’s gone.

Henrik is confused because spirits usually appear to him like regular people, not constantly phasing in and out of reality. They can’t do that since that can only attach to stuff, not hide in object like demons who posses or infest things. Jackie and Anti are also wary. They’ve never seen this before.

They make their way to one of the front windows in an attempt to escape again. Jackie brings out his staff and starts to pry at the boards. Henrik and Anti keep watch as suddenly, they start to hear glass shattering. Chase does his best to keep the flashlights on as they start to flicker. They hear a low hum, but they can’t discern from where it’s coming from. All they know it that it’s getting louder. Chase screams at Jackie to hurry and drops the blinking flashlights in favor of helping him get the boards off. Anti’s form starts to solidify and his face starts to warp. He floats down closer to the ground and holds his arms out around Henrik, ready to defend if need be.

As the humming got louder, they start to realize that it was no hum, it was a giggle, a laugh. It got louder and closer along with whatever was making the sound. The darkness around them starts to seep in from outside, closer and closer to them, until a board breaks under one of Jackie’s strike and light seeps through.

He starts to rip at the boards around it and suddenly, they come off easy. The rest of the boards are kicked off and Chase is the first one out the window. Jackie lets Henrik go before him and then he jumps after them. They scramble to their feet and away from the house.

As soon as they had passed the window sill, the laughter cut out and all they heard was the wind. They were breathing heavy as they looked up and at the sky. The sun was still out, just about to set. Chase’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and his phone says it’s 8:18 pm. Henrik checks his watch and it says 11 pm.

Chase had gotten several notifications from the chat who were still watching the stream from the camera that was left outside. The other cameras had cut out for them, but according to the notifications, they just turned back on again. Chase looks back at the house. He was curious about his other cameras, but he wasn’t about to just waltz back in there.

Henrik had already made his way to the car and was leaning heavily against it. He made up his mind. He wasn’t going back in there. Anti was staring into the house through the window they had escaped through. He could’ve sworn he saw something just as they left. A pair of glowing green eyes in the darkness before it conglomerated into a single silhouette. It looked like a person with a cape on.

Jackie had backed away from the house, but he glanced back, looking for the spirits. There was no hint of them anywhere, no movement in the windows, no creaking of the boards, no spirits detectable at all. Suddenly, something moves in his peripherals. He turns his head on high alert and for a moment, he sees himself, a younger version, reaching out to him with a desperate look on his face and mouth wide open in a silent scream. The apparition is gone as soon as it had appeared.

They leave. Chase grabbed the camera outside the house, but left the others there. None of them were wiling to step back into that house in the dark. Chase and Jackie decide to come back for them tomorrow noon. When Chase reviews the footage, there really was just a few minutes between the time when they stepped into the house and the time when they jump out the window. It had felt like hours to them. It was hours, Henrik’s watch had proved it. And although there was nothing in the footage, Chase’s fans had gotten screen recordings and screen shots of something in the window left behind when they stumbled out. It looked like two glowing eyes of a dark silhouette before it disappeared.

#ask #anon #au crossover #haunted house au #ghost hunted au #tw #trigger warning #death #killing #suicide #hanging #injury #idk #i spent way too long writing this #but i love these two AUs

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lonelyanthem · 4 years

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Daily Prompt #18

Please, let me know if I should continue this novel. I don’t know if it is going anywhere. It’s only a start but I think of it as a prompt, just in case I decide to actually continue it.

My eyes watered as a smack landed on my face, the loud noise echoing in the air like a clap of thunder. My body turned from the slap, making me fall to the school hallway on my arse.

I didn't look up at my attacker, knowing full well that if I did, then I would get a lot more than a tap to the face.

It seemed that everything that I did made my personal bully hostile. If I even looked in her general direction, she would admit energy that Lucifer Morningstar would be proud of.

She's not the devil, Jamie.

That sure won't stop me from thinking it though.

I smiled at my thoughts slightly but as soon as the muscles moved, I immediately regretted it.

I slowly looked up into the face of Amanda Portly and recoiled in surprise when she grabbed me by my collar.

I didn't miss the rip it made in the fabric.

Another uniform to buy.

I had, strangely enough, become apathetic to whatever Amanda wanted to do to me. Not because I enjoyed being slapped and man-handled by the slut but because it wouldn't get me anywhere except for feeling sorry for myself.

I let her do whatever the hell she wanted until she got sick and tired of it and let me go on my merry little way.

It didn't mean that I was completely indifferent to the abuse made by my classmate. Sometimes, I would have a good cry in the bathroom to make up for it.

And what a good cry it is.

I sighed and waited for Amanda to back hand me again and watched as her minions laughed at me behind their master.

Did any of these girls have a conscious?

Did they get off on my pain?

I shook my head again and my heart leaped in my chest when I heard a shout.

"What the hell is going on here?"

My saviour was a Professor— the Biology Professor to be exact.

Amanda's sickly sweet voice floated amongst everyone and I couldn't help the shiver of disgust that formed in my stomach at the sound. "Oh, well I was helping Jamie up. She had an unfortunate accident."

"Well, get a move on now. You'll miss class," said the Professor, "Miss... Brooks, is it?"

The Professor approached me and Amanda released her hold on my arm— that she had quickly maneuvered to— when she had heard the Professor's voice.

"Yes, Professor." My voice came out as more of a whisper than anything else.

"Where did you get that red mark on your cheek?" asked the Professor.

I looked up at Amanda and the glare that I received promised even more pain if I told the Professor what had happened.

"I fell on my face, sir," I said.

The Professor gave me an exasperated look and shook his head.

"To class, the lot of you," said the Professor finally.

You don't have to tell me twice.

I brushed myself off, not once looking in Amanda's direction and made my way to class.

The entire class found Amanda glaring daggers into my skull.

It seemed that her favourite thing was trying to make me uncomfortable. Sometimes I think she has a crush on me.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, it evaporated like smoke.

Amanda Portly wasn't capable of feeling anything, let alone the feelings of forming a crush.

It wasn't even 40 minutes later that the class ended and I could feel someone following behind me as I exited the classroom.

Two guesses who that could be.

I tried to stay where there were a lot of people because Amanda wasn't as aggressive when she had an audience. The exception for her lovely minions.

It didn't work out as I planned though as a hand slammed down onto my shoulder and I was pushed inside a broom closet.

"Let's see how you hold up while being locked in here."

What?

But as soon as what she said had fully registered in my mind, I began to panic.

This was a low blow if I ever saw one. Amanda knew very well what such small spaces did to me. It wasn't as bad when the door remained open, but closed as well as locked? Just thinking about it made me hyperventilate.

"Come on, Amanda... please, this is just cruel. You know that I can't deal with small spaces." I began to lose hope as Amanda made for the door. I followed behind her frantically, trying to get past her but she pushed me down to the floor, the broom handle falling on top of me.

"Have fun," said the she-devil as she closed the door.

"Amanda... this isn't funny, Amanda!" My heart rate picked up and I banged on the door for someone to help me but nobody came. I slid down the door, hopeless and with no idea of what to do.

That was when I began to cry, salty tears hit the atmosphere as I rocked back and forth on the floor.

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happe—

My internal panic was abruptly cut off when a noise pierced my ears. It was loud but as soon as I adjusted to it, I began to hear singing.

Am I losing my mind now?

I squinted my eyes as a bright luminous light entered the small space and my mouth went agape as I watched it slowly open until the light settled.

What was left made me nearly panic again.

Why the hell is there a freakin' portal in here?

I stopped, my mouth clacking closed as I peered into the void. My curiosity getting the better of me as I got closer and closer until I reluctantly pushed my head through the unusual phenomenon.

Maybe I'm imagining this.

Yes, that must be it.

There is no way my head is sticking through a magical portal where I can see a forest.

Yeah, no way...

There were a few beats of silence before I flung back through the very real portal and stuck myself to the broom closet door, screaming at the top of my lungs.

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whovianfeminism · 7 years

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Whovian Feminism Reviews “Oxygen”

After Star Wars and Star Trek, one of the first space movies I watched as a kid was Apollo 13. It was unlike any of the movies I’d seen before. Space wasn’t a grand place filled with spaceships the size of palaces and doors that went “shuck-shuck.” Space was a dark, cramped place that was probably trying to kill you. Life in space wasn’t a given -- it was a fragile, tenuous existence where every bit of survivable space had to be fought for. Jamie Mathieson’s “Oxygen” brought me right back to that feeling I got the first time I watched Apollo 13, when I realized that the only thing scarier than the monsters lurking in space was the endless, indifferent void you’d have to cross to find them.

Space hasn’t been scary in Doctor Who in a long, long time. The limitations and dangers of life in space are more likely to be hand-waved away so we can move on to other dangers. We’ve also had a lot of cute scenes of incredulous companions leaning out of the TARDIS into the vacuum of space, like Amy floating around in her night gown. Those moments aren’t bad -- they’re actually some of my favorite scenes -- but you do forget after awhile that space is meant to be dangerous.

Mathieson brings the terror back to space. The Frankenstein-esque spacesuit zombies border on ridiculous for a moment, but Pearl Mackie’s horrified reaction absolutely sells them. I believed they were frightening because she seemed genuinely terrified. And Mathieson is able to create real, lasting consequences when things go wrong. The Doctor is blinded after walking with insufficient protection through the vacuum of space, and no magic cure from the TARDIS is able to restore his sight. I’m curious to see how long the Doctor will remain blind, and how they intend to address it moving forward.

“Oxygen” may reflect Apollo 13′s terror and wonder at space travel, but the political message is much closer to Alien. On this space station, you live and die by capitalism’s whim. Human life is only valued for its ability to provide value to the corporation. And once their efficiency declines and they are no longer profitable, they are expendable. Human life has no value outside of profit.

The political messaging could be a bit on-the-nose (I admit I giggled when the Doctor said they were fighting “the suits”) but it was an interesting critique of the dehumanization and impersonalization of capitalism. Never once do we see a human involved in the decision to kill the crew. An algorithm determines that the station has become unprofitable, a line of code is sent to the suits to have them kill their operators, and the suits’ onboard AI hunts down and exterminates the remaining survivors. A human probably created and approved that system long ago, but the humans whose lives are determined by it have no recourse or appeal if it decides they are expendable. It’s maximum corporate efficiency. No pesky morals or emotions can intervene to spare an unprofitable workforce at the last moment due to sentiment.

But they didn’t count on an interfering Time Lord.

The Doctor has another opportunity to give a grand speech about his and his companion’s unique role in the universe to help those in need, but it rings a little more hollow this time around. The Doctor didn’t end up in the middle of this crisis by accident -- he sought out a distress call. And he’s not doing this solely out of the goodness of the heart. He’s bored. He’s an adrenaline junkie seeking his next fix.

And Nardole is not having any of it. This is the first episode where it starts to feel like he might actually have a purpose for being on the TARDIS. His continuous shading of the Doctor’s cockiness and dereliction of duty added a bit of levity throughout the episode, and we even got a reference to fluid links! But the humor dries up by the end of the episode when Nardole starkly lays out everything the Doctor’s actions put at risk. Matt Lucas can play the buffoon very well, but Nardole is at his most effective when he’s playing the jester -- mixing insightful and sharp commentary in with his humor.

There was only one sour note for me in this episode, and that was the subplot with Ellie and Ivan. Ellie’s speech about wanting to have a child with Ivan was a sweet, humanizing touch at the beginning of the episode to remind you about the lives these workers want to have outside of their jobs. And then she is immediately killed. At the end of the episode, her corpse hands over her oxygen pack to help keep Ivan alive so we can watch him be sad about it.

Look, I know I must sound like a broken record on this. And I know this is a relatively small, not particularly compelling example of fridging. But I’m going to keep pointing it out every single time it happens because it’s a lazy plot trope that does a disservice to female characters and fans. Plenty of people die in Doctor Who, but I want the women’s deaths to be about them and their lives and their pain, not about the men surrounding them!

#Doctor Who #Oxygen #Series 10 #Feminism #Reviews #Whovian Feminism

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thexxplace · 7 years

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As The xx gear up to tour their new album, I See You, Oliver Sim reflects on a new version of himself

It was during The xx’s residency at New York’s Park Avenue Armory in March 2014 that Oliver Sim found out what stardom really looks like. “Those shows were crazy,” he says of their 25 performances at the former military headquarters on the Upper East Side. “The response we got, the people who came, the whole experience was mind-blowing.” Each night - at an event more like an art installation than a gig - the band performed encircled by an audience of just 40 people, who watched them play in complete silence. On the last night, A-list attendees included Jay Z, Beyoncè, Björk, Anohni and filmmakers Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach. “Throughout the show I was facing (co-vocalist) Romy, and Madonna was standing directly behind her,” he says, reliving the moment. “Every time my gaze went up an inch, I was staring straight at her. It was surreal.”

Recognition and the sense of worth it brings is a central theme of The xx’s stunning new album, I See You. Recorded in Texas, New York, Los Angeles and Reykjavik as well as London, it sees this extravagantly talented South London trio - Sim, co-vocalist/guitarist Romy Madley-Croft and programmer Jamie Smith - fully embracing their role as global players. “We wanted songs we could sing out,” says Sim, acknowledging the gaivanising effect Smith’s solo success with the rave-centric In Colour as Jamie xx had on the band. “We feel a lot more confident now. We want people to connect with the music and with us as people.”

While its predecessors - 2009′s xx and 2012′s Coexist - only contained arrangements the band could reproduce live, I See You is full of sonic surprises. From brassy opener Dangerous and the Hall & Oates sampling On Hold to the spooked space-gospel of Test Me, it nods to club culture while maintaining their trademark emotional intensity. As we’ll discover, however, for pop’s premier wallflowers learning to look the world in the eye hasn’t been easy.

London Fields, 3 January 2017, and the sky is the colour of flooded ashtray. It’s the first day back at work after the holidays, and a chance to catch up on the events of the last fortnight. Like the rest of the music community, Sim is still reeling from the death of George Michael on Christmas Day. For The xx, the star’s music holds a special significance. When Sim and Madley-Croft started making music as naïve 14-year-olds at the music-focused Elliott School in Putney, an early staple of their set was a cover of Wham’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. “I’m a huge fan, we did it because that song is fun,” he says. “It was easier in the beginning to take ourselves not too seriously.” You sense that Michael must have loved The xx. With its minimalist beats and murmured vocals, their debut ushered in a new kind of suburban soul music: intimate, yet desolate. Sultry and seductive, the intertwining voices of Sim and Madley-Croft made the listener feel as though they were eavesdropping on private conversations as they quarrelled, confessed and made up. Yet the simmering sexual tension was illusory - both, like Michael, are gay.

Winner of the Mercury Prize and one of only three gold-certified debuts by a British band in the last decade - along with Mumford & Sons, and One Direction - The xx’s stripped-bare sound quickly became a byword for understated cool. Sampled by Rihanna for Drunk on Love, covered by Shakira and an atmospheric staple of TV (CSI, Grey’s Anatomy, Gossip Girl), their ability to express complex emotions in a simple way was summed up by Kanye West after one of the armory shows. “He told us that our music reminded him of Steve Jobs, who’d taken something as big as the computer and put it into a cell phone,” says Sim with a grin. “Was he right? It’s not really for me to say, is it?”

Oliver Sim, 26, has the languid delivery of a late-night radio DJ and the dashing good looks of a 40s matinèe idol. Scrupulously polite, he exudes a warmth rarely found in pop stars. He’s also immaculately dressed. Today his 6ft 2in frame comes swathed in black turtleneck, trousers and boots, all by Ann Demeulemeester, giving the impression that he’s arrived off the catwalk rather than from his East London flat, ten minutes away. He modelled for Dior Homme last year, and is passionate about the relationship between fashion and music. “I think they can feed into each other so much,” he says, citing the example of gender-fluid Venezuelan producer Arca as someone willing to push the sartorial boundaries. “One of my favourite movies is Depeche Mode 101. Seeing these English musicians walking around small-town America in fetish gear - it’s such a bold image.”

A teenage fan of James Dean - “I liked the Hollywood rumours about him; the love affairs with men, that he was a masochist” - Sim’s firs pop-star crush was Chris Isaak. “I remember seeing the video for Wicked Game and thinking, ‘Now that is a cool man,’“ he recalls. “I had the same feeling when I saw Josh Homme. They made me excited, made me think, ‘That’s how I want to be.’“

Equally inspired by the look of 90s R’n’B artists The fugees, D’Angelo and En Vogue - “I’ve never seen wearing black as a goth thing, to me it’s chic” - his own signature look is central to The xx’s carefully cultivated image. “The xx do simple things very well,” explains Imogen Snell, creative consultant at label Young Turks. “They’re consistent and there’s a wonderful confidence to that. Oliver personally has a wide appeal. He’s confident, charming and beautiful, but also has a wonderful gentle sensitivity - as well as being incredibly down to earth and kind.” If Sim appears to have been born with impeccable taste, blame his parents. Raised in a council flat in South London by his mum (a social worker) and father (a charity administrator), he was encouraged to express himself from an early age. His dad - a fan of Talking Heads - brought him his first bass, while his mum took him to his first gig, The White Stripes at Brixton Academy.

Friends with Madley-Croft since nursery school - their parents were close - it was natural for the pair to play music together. Both cripplingly shy, they would initially exchange song ideas by email, with no ambition, at least on Sim’s part, to take it any further. “I left school thinking I wanted to be a nomad,” he says, almost wistfully. “Free-floating. Of course things didn’t work out like that.”

Signed by record label XL at 17, The xx were internationally famous while still teenagers. “We had no idea what was going on. We were thrown into it,” he says, recalling a rabbit-in-the-headlights showcase at New York’s CMJ in October 2009, reviewed by Pitchfork with the words: “Their live presence is not exactly dynamic.”

“We were promoting the album and we just didn’t have the answers,” he remembers. “Where does the simplicity come from? Where does the space come from? The truth was that those things happened through mistakes, who we are as people, and our own limitations.”

When The xx’s global touring commitments finally came to a close in 2014, Sim suddenly found himself at a loose end. “It was the most anti-climactic feeling,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “We’d been on the road for so long with a tour manager looking after us and telling us where to go and suddenly I didn’t have that.” With Madley-Croft temporarily relocating to Los Angeles and Smith promoting In Colour worldwide, Sim filled the void by plunging headlong into the capital’s nightlife. “I wanted to celebrate being back in London - get a bit of life in me,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “I wouldn’t change it, but it wasn’t necessarily successful. I learned that I need something: not a routine, but a structure. Being idle is not my friend. I did a lot of regrettable things...” This self-destructive side of his personality reveals itself on I See You. “Am I too needy, am I too eager?” he sings in Say Something Loving, while the spectral Replica hints at an uncomfortable reconciliation. “Twenty-five and you’re just like me,” he sighs. “Is it in my nature to be stuck on repeat?”

While he doesn’t go into details, it took private interventions from his band mates to make him seek help. He’s been off alcohol for a year. “I’m in the programme,” he says, referring to the 12-steps of the AA. “I go to meetings. It’s fine. But I’m still figuring out how to celebrate.”

Spending an hour with the sparky, energised Sim, it’s clear sobriety suits him. He enthuses about Duncan Macmillan’s 2016 play about addictive urges, People, Places and Things and cites Trumbo - about blacklisted Hollywood screenwriter Dalton Trumbo - as the last film he saw; his New Year’s resolution, he says, is to “read more”. Being clean has also brought some unexpected bonuses. When The xx played across Europe in December, it was the first time he’d played live without having had a drink. “Booze took away a lot of nerves but it also dampened the highs,” he explains. “I’m not sure if it’s a spiritual thing, but when I’m up there it’s really intense. The connection with the audience is the strongest thrill there is.”

It’s time to go but there’s one last thing. Rather than play arenas in support of I See You, Sim explains they’re deliberately playing smaller, more intimate venues, including a record-breaking seven-night run at Brixton Academy. For Sim these shows will have a special significance. “I can still remember staring Jack White in the face,” he says, recalling the thrill of seeing The White Stripes there at 14. “Those are the nights you don’t forget. The album title is a message to the fans, saying that we can definitely spot them when we’re on stage.”

For Oliver Sim - songwriter, musician, model, A-list magnet and all-round pop visionary - it’s all about recognition. He says goodbye, offers a firm handshake, and strides away down the corridor. He’s got people to see.

(Interviewed by Paul Moody. Photos by Alasdair McLellan)

#oliver sim #the xx #another man

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reading-through-the-night · 7 years

Text

If Music Be The Food Of Love

I’ve never written anything before, so be gentle with me! But I was thinking about Outlander and the little things that make up our lives everyday that Claire (or myself) would miss when she fell through the stones. For me, I think the thing I would miss most is music. :) I think this little moment takes place just before Jamie and Claire leave Lallybroch in Dragonfly in Amber to go visit Lord Lovat. Read, enjoy, give me some feedback!

@bonnie-wee-swordsman, @writtenthroughtime, @lenny9987, @gotham-ruaidh, @takemeawaytocamelot, @westerhos, @dingbatland would love if you would read! If you like it, reblog? :)

The bright lights blinded Claire to all but the first rows of onlooking audience members. She stood tall and took a deep, calming breath. The conductor raised his arms, and as one they began. She felt herself dissolve into the choir, as though they shared one mind for the space of the song. She could feel the deep, rumbling tones of the bass line, accompanied by the light, fluttering notes from the soprano section. And in the center of the intonations, she found the place where she belonged, where she fit perfectly.

The harmony line danced around the melody, jumping to meet it and then darting away. She knew this song well, had sung it a hundred times in rehearsal. While she sang, she lost herself in the rolling waves of music. She couldn’t tell where her voice ended and the rest of the choir began. As the song swelled into a crescendo around her, she felt whole. She could feel the song gently caress her, wrap it’s arms around her as though it were a physical being, holding her tight and safe.

She awoke with the strains of the song just outside of her conscious hearing. If she concentrated she could almost feel the perfect locking in of the last chord. A chord that was not only pleasing to the ear, but somehow made the heart feel whole. The dancing lines of melody and harmony, dipping and weaving together in a constant exchange. An expression of emotion so much stronger than mere words or actions. But now she couldn’t recall the flowing melody that flitted around the edges of her brain. She couldn’t share the simple song that was pulsing through her veins. The knowledge of that nearly crushed her. Left her lonelier for her own time than she had been in a long, long time.

Why hadn’t she paid attention more to the small details that comprised her life before? How could she have taken for granted the simplicity of written music? She could never reproduce the notes and chords of the compositions she longed to hear, that had not even been written yet. And even if she could somehow replicate those songs, how would she play them? She had no piano, no instrument other than her own singular voice. There was a good chance she would never again hear the perfection of a chord that holds your soul and then releases it just as quickly.

She closed her eyes and let the waves of bitter longing wash over her. She would allow herself this small moment of remembrance for her time before coming back to reality. Reaching over, she felt Jamie, warm and strong, lying beside her. She could live with the lost memories of music so long she had him beside her.

Claire’s touch on his arm woke Jamie. He looked over at his wife, a sleepy smile on his face. He reached over, caressing her face with his large, callous hands.

“What are ye thinkin’ about, mo nighean donn? Ye have that far off look in yer eyes. Where are ye?” Claire looked down, not wanting to meeting his eyes. She sat up in their bed, stretching the sleepiness from her limbs.

“It was just a dream, from before. It’s nothing important.” Sitting up with her, Jamie stroked her back. She leaned into his touch, wanting the comfort of something familiar and solid.

“Sassenach, every thought ye have is important to me.” He turned to hold her chin in his hands, forcing her eyes to look at him. “Please, tell me what’s causing that troublin’ look in yer eyes. Let me help ye.”

Claire looked deep into her husband’s slanted blue eyes. Telling him would not bring back the music she dreamt of. And even if it did, Jamie could not hear the music she wanted to share with him so much. He could understand the fact that there was music playing, but he couldn’t make sense of the sounds. The only music Jamie could hear at all was the rhythmic beating of a drum. But still, Jamie understood the words and meaning of the music, even if he could not make sense of the scales that were being played.

Jamie’s hand moved from her cheek down to hold her hand between his, comfort flowing from his touch. Her eyes followed the motion, looking at her hand in his.

“It’s silly really. Just a dream.” She paused, wondering if that was enough of an explanation. Jamie held her gaze, waiting for her to continue. Claire took a deep breath, going on.

“I was dreaming about music. I was on stage, singing with the choral group I was a part of, back in my time. We were performing a song we had sung a million times in rehearsal, a song that I loved. The dream was so real, I could feel the music, could feel the resonance in my chest. It was perfect. I woke up, and I couldn’t remember how the song went. I’m thinking about it now, and I still can’t recall it.” She was getting worked up, and a single tear slid down her cheek as she said “And I can’t ask anyone to help me think of it, because the song hasn’t been written yet here in this time. And even if I could figure out the name of the song, how could I replicate it? I’m just me, how could I replicate harmony?”

She kept her gaze down, feeling silly that she was so emotional about something that was so selfish. What could music do to help stop Bonnie Prince Charlie and the disaster that would be Culloden? Jamie brought one hand up to wipe away the tears that now spilled freely from her eyes.

“Sassenach, I’d no idea -” Claire gently pulled her hand away from him, struggling to untangle herself from the sheets as she rose from the bed. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, feeling selfish about wanting something that was so clearly not a necessity. They were here in Lallybroch, getting ready to march with the soldiers, and all she could think about was wanting to hear a song.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I am crying over something so simple.” She walked out of their room quickly, going outside to feel the crisp morning air on her skin and to avoid any more questions.

Jamie watched her go. He ached to fill that void for her. She had given up so much for him, and never once complained. Claire truly was an amazing woman. He wanted to give her a fraction of what she had given him: love, support, and comfort. He would give her anything, as he had vowed those years ago at their wedding ceremony. Yet music...the one thing he could not physically bring to her himself. He cursed the day he had been struck in the head, knocking the ability to hear and understand music out of his head.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He may not be able to recreate the sounds she remembered, but he could give her something else. He dressed quickly in his plaid, pulled on his boots, and raced to the stables to get a horse. As he rode, he made a list in his head of the houses he needed to visit, hoping everything would fall into place by evening.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claire stayed outside most of the day, keeping her distance from the other residence of Lallybroch. She didn’t want her melancholy mood to rub off onto anyone else. She worked in the garden, collecting herbs and plants that she would need to treat the ailments of the soldiers as they traveled. As she worked, she hummed a simple children’s song to herself. It bothered her that she couldn’t hum the song from her dream. Why was she still thinking about music and songs in a time like this?

Looking up, Claire saw Jamie striding towards her. The setting sun cast his hair in a shade of deep auburn, with tinges of gold and copper sprinkled throughout. Claire smiled as arrived at her side and held his hand out for her.

“Ye’ve been working mighty hard out here today Sassenach. It’s time for supper, no?”

“I suppose you’re right. I am rather hungry.”

Leading her towards the house on his arm, Jamie seemed to have an excited energy about him. Usually, he was calm and collected, especially here at his home in Lallybroch. Claire wondered what he could have been up to all day. Maybe he had been working on plans to move his men to Lord Lovat’s land with Murtaugh.

As they rounded the final turn from the garden to Lallybroch, Claire came to a complete stop. Standing on the steps of the house were a dozen men in formation, all dressed in full Highland Scots regalia. Each man held a bagpipe in his arms waiting to play. Leading her forward, Jamie gave the men a signal, and they began to play.

(Play song here and continue reading for the full effect!)

Claire felt as though she were floating forward towards to music, the familiar tune of Amazing Grace pulling her closer. As she got close enough to see the faces of the men, she noticed she recognized them. These were the men Jamie would be traveling with to Lord Lovat’s lands. As her gaze drifted to the men on the end, she was surprised to see Murtaugh standing with the men, bagpipe in hand, playing with all the gusto he could muster.

She didn’t realize she was crying until Jamie handed her his handkerchief, wrapping his arms around her from behind and settling his head in the crook of her neck and slowly rocking her back and forth. Claire closed her eyes, letting the song become burned into her memory. When the song finally came to an end, she applauded loudly, and went up to each of the men to thank them.

As the men began to walk back towards their homes, Jamie shook each of their hands in thanks. As Murtaugh passed her, Claire gave him the warmest embrace she had ever given the man. She never imaged that Murtaugh could play the bagpipes, let alone play them so well. When all the men had all left, Claire turned to Jamie, embracing him as tightly as she could.

“Jamie, I can’t believe you put this together for me.” She said into his chest.

“Sassenach,” he said, pulling away to look down into her eyes. “Yer heart is my heart. Whatever it is ye want, if it is in my power to give it to ye, I’ll see it done.” He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Now, shall we see about that supper?”

She smiled, placed her hand in his arm, and together they walked into the house.

P.S. - I know the song not historically accurate and wouldn’t technically be written until 1779, but it felt right here. :)

#Outlander #my original #jamie x claire #music #dragonfly in amber #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fanfic #fanfic #my first fanfic

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