#A legend in his own lunchtime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghoulsbounty · 5 months ago

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Friend of the Devil

Lee Russell x Gamby!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), office sex, oral (f receiving), face riding, interrupted fun times, cursing, angst, Lee is mean (but soft), secret relationship, power dynamics, power play, slight mentions of sub/dom, childish sibling relationship, competitive nature, frenemies, fluff/happy ending.

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: Here's the Lee part to this anon's other request! I took a while going back and forth with this because I wanted to focuse on how Lee's personality affects everybody, and readers relationship/how you fit into that and in turn have effected him. There's a few Gamby sister requests similar to this going around, so I wanted to do something different but still follow the request. I hope you enjoy! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

The lunchroom was alive with a vibrant cacophony of voices and the rhythmic clatter of trays, the air thick and rich with the mingled aromas of cafeteria offerings—overcooked vegetables, processed meats, and the ever-present scent of reheated pizza. Fluorescent lights flickered slightly overhead, casting a harsh glow over the busy scene. Teachers gathered in their usual enclaves, finding solace and camaraderie amidst the relentless pace of school life. At the corner table, under a particularly noisy air vent, a spirited discussion took place, the latest school gossip providing a welcome escape from the relentless mountains of essays to grade and detailed lesson plans to refine.

Ms. Abbott, always the central figure in these lunchtime exchanges, leaned forward with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't look now, but here comes Tweedle-Dee," she whispered, her voice a blend of amusement and mock secrecy. Her comment ignited a ripple of subdued laughter that spread through the group. Eager heads turned discreetly, their curiosity piqued, all wanting a glimpse of the person who had become the unwitting protagonist of Ms. Abbott’s playful narrative.

Approaching with a brisk, almost frantic stride was Lee Russell. His attire, a meticulously tailored suit paired with gleaming shoes, barely concealed the unmistakable tension he carried. Since his promotion to principal, Russell had swiftly gained the unfortunate distinction of being the least favoured among the faculty. His unpredictable and often heavy-handed leadership style had alienated many.

"He must be lost without Tweedle-Dum," Ms. Abbott remarked, her voice laced with a sharp edge of sarcasm.

Seychelle, always ready to add drama to any conversation, pounced on the opportunity. "He and Gamby were so far up each other's asses they could tickle each other's tonsils," he declared, his smirk broadening as he theatrically adjusted his silk scarf, draping it back over his shoulder. The group burst into laughter, a sound filled with both genuine amusement and a cathartic release from their collective disdain. "I heard he's returning soon, so maybe it will put his boyfriend in a better mood," Seychelle added, his tone dripping with irony.

As the laughter reverberated around the table, a sudden hush descended when you cleared your throat—a soft yet unmistakable signal of a presence they had momentarily forgotten. Seychelle, caught mid-chuckle, turned as the directed gazes of his colleagues guided him to meet your eyes. Seated right beside him, you were struggling to suppress your own mirth.

"Oh, sorry, Miss Gamby," Seychelle stuttered, his usual confidence slipping as he managed an apologetic smile.

You nodded, acknowledging his apology while your mind briefly wandered to your brother, Neal, and his infamous collaboration with Lee Russell. Together, they had orchestrated a reign filled with both mischief and mismanagement, becoming the stuff of legend at North Jackson High School. Now, with Neal's absence, Russell appeared more adrift than ever—an observation that had not escaped the keen, sometimes merciless eyes of the faculty.

"It's fine," you said reassuringly, prodding the homemade leftovers in your container with a fork. "My brother's an asshole, but Lee Russell is the fucking devil."

The group chuckled, the tension melting away as they eased back into their conversations. You let out a sigh, then heard the distinct click of Prada shoes on the linoleum and the wafting, fruity scent of cologne—signals of the principal’s approach. Setting down your fork, you looked up just in time to see Lee Russell stop beside your table. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," you quipped with a tight smile.

Lee ignored the light-hearted jab, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your lunch. "What the fuck is that?" he demanded, pointing at your container. "Is this what poor people eat?" His words cut through the resumed chatter, casting a silence over the table.

You rolled your eyes, your gaze taking in his perfectly tailored suit and meticulously styled hair—the stark contrast between his polished appearance and his coarse behaviour never failed to amaze you. "I don't know, Lee," you retorted, your voice mocking. "You pay my wages, so you tell me."

Russell's eyes flashed with irritation as a sneer formed on his lips. "Maybe if you spent less time eating garbage like a fuckin' pig and more time doing your job, we wouldn't have so many problems," he snapped.

Taking a moment, you looked around the cafeteria, observing the other teachers quietly watching the exchange, the rambunctious students that ignored it, then turned your weary gaze back to him. "It's lunchtime, Lee. Even school staff need to eat," you stated flatly, emphasizing the obvious.

Ms. Abbott's snigger echoed across the table, momentarily lightening the atmosphere until Lee's sharp glare silenced her amusement. Ignoring her, he leaned forward, pressing his knuckles against the table and fixing his gaze on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "Since when did you become so goddamn fuckin' familiar? It's Principal Russell to you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And it's lunchtime when I say it's lunchtime. You get your ass in my office and finish writing that grant proposal that was due this morning, or you'll be so fuckin' fired that dogshit will seem like a Michelin star recipe to you. Understood?"

You met his stare unflinchingly, the tension at the table palpable. You knew the importance of picking your battles, especially under the watchful eyes of your colleagues. "Understood, Principal Russell," you responded, your voice calm and measured.

Lee's smug expression deepened as he surveyed the now quiet group. "Good," he spat out, his tone dripping with contempt, pleased with his perceived control over the situation.

Mrs. Deets, unable to contain her dismay, addressed him directly, her voice filled with concern and a hint of defiance. "Don't you think you're being unfair, Russell?" she asked, her eyes flicking briefly to you in sympathy. "You've been loading Miss Gamby with extra work for weeks, and now you're disrupting her lunch break," she continued, her expression frustrated.

Her intervention brought a momentary pause, the air thick as everyone awaited Russell's response, wondering whether it would temper his approach or incite further harshness.

Lee's eyes hardened, turning towards Mrs. Deets with a menacing glint. "And what are you going to do? Report me to HR?" he taunted, his voice thick with arrogance. "I'd like to see you try. They're all in my pocket, just like you should be." His eyes narrowed as he scanned the table, issuing a silent challenge to anyone daring to contest his authority. The table fell silent under his gaze.

With a final sneer, he turned on his heel and strode away, the authoritative click of his polished shoes echoing ominously through the lunchroom. The oppressive atmosphere lingered for a moment before gradually dissipating, leaving displeasure behind but also a sense of unity among the faculty. They exchanged looks that communicated a shared resolve; something would need to change, but carefully and strategically, to avoid the fallout of a direct confrontation with a man who held too much power and too little regard for others.

Gathering your things, you stood and glanced around at the sympathetic faces of your fellow teachers. "Just another day at North Jackson," you remarked, trying to lighten the mood. You gave Mrs. Deets a grateful nod for her support. "Thanks for trying, Val," you added sincerely. Then, with a resigned breath, you turned and headed towards Lee's office, your mind already strategizing for the confrontation ahead and the careful navigation it would require.

Rounding the reception desk, you greeted Miss Swift with a nod, your eyes briefly scanning toward the office behind her. The blinds were tightly drawn, and the muffled sound of Russell's frustrated rant seeped through the closed door. Miss Swift met your gaze with a look of caution. "He's just got back," she whispered, her tone hushed. "He's been in a real bad mood all day. Made me cancel all his appointments and said he was going to tell Superintendent Haas to—well, it wasn't very nice."

You offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Janice. You know he's always got a stick up his butt about something," you reassured her, your casual words drawing a reluctant smile from her. "You go have some lunch. I've got this." With a confident nod, you prepared yourself and approached the door to Russell's office, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Lee Russell's voice was sharp as he commanded you to close the door, his tone betraying the strain of the day. As you shut the door behind you, the office felt suffocatingly small, filled with the tension that seemed to emanate from the man hunched over his desk.

Standing a respectable distance away, you maintained a neutral tone, despite the stress in the air. "You wanted to see me, Principal Russell?" you asked, watching as he slowly lifted his face from his hands, revealing a weary expression that briefly flickered to surprise, perhaps not expecting your calm demeanour. You waited, poised for his response, ready to discuss the grant proposal or whatever else he deemed urgent enough to interrupt your lunch. Deep down, you understood the true reason for this meeting, yet you couldn't deny the thrill it added to the encounter when you pretended otherwise.

"I don't have time for your smart-ass remarks today," he grumbled, slumping back into his chair with his legs spread wide. He shot you a pitiful glance, his face etched with frustration. "Everything's falling apart, and you're too busy cozying up to my damn enemies to be of any help." His voice was a blend of desperation and resentment, the anger he had shown earlier in the cafeteria now reduced to a needy whine.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at his dramatics as you circled his desk, perching on its edge right in front of him. "They're my colleagues, Lee—your staff—and we need to keep things normal without you losing it and threatening me in front of everyone in the cafeteria," you said calmly, fully aware that it would take more to alleviate his irritation as he rolled his eyes.

"Losing it?" He scoffed, fixing you with a pointed look. "You've seen nothing yet. I'd line them all up and send them packing one by one, like a damn firing squad execution. The faculty are a massive pain in my ass; they're all fucking replaceable." His words were sharp and icy, each one a dagger designed to intimidate and belittle—something he excelled at.

The harshness of his tone left no doubt about his contempt for his colleagues, his disregard for their contributions painfully clear. This wasn't the first time you had heard such sentiments from him—it was merely the latest in a series of similar tirades. Lee had fought his way to the position of principal with a tenacity and fierceness that appeared limitless. His impulsive nature and propensity to act without thinking through the consequences often left you as the one trying to reel him back from the brink, attempting to mitigate the fallout of his decisions before they escalated into full-blown crises.

Lee's relentless ambition had fostered a toxic atmosphere, one rife with fear and uncertainty. Each time he went into a downward spiral, the responsibility fell on you to curb his impulsive decisions and soften the impact. The stress and exhaustion were evident on your colleagues' faces, their morale dwindling under Lee's oppressive leadership. You had cautioned him that maintaining friendships would be challenging once he held power over others, but he had dismissed your concerns, preoccupied instead with choosing the ideal carpet colour for his opulent new office. His priorities, it seemed, were focused more on appearances than on the well-being of his staff.

"Oh, really? And what will you do with nine hundred students and no one to teach them?" you questioned, going along with his rant. A bemused smile played at the corners of your lips, reflecting both amusement and scepticism at his drastic solutions.

"I'd hire new ones, ones who actually listen and respect me. Start fresh, a clean slate without those fuckin' assholes," he replied, his determination evident in the firm set of his jaw. When you laughed, he nudged your leg gently with his knee, showing a rare moment of playfulness amidst his tirade. "Might keep you, though," he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.

"Really? I thought I was the first on your list to go," you teased, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wasn't there something about firing me? Something about dogshit tasting good?"

He rolled his eyes again, his frustration melting into a reluctant smile. He scooted his chair closer to you and leaned forward, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt. "I didn't mean it," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. It seemed as if the gravity of his own words had caught him off guard.

Apologies from him were rare, like the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he feared showing, lest they be exploited. His public outbursts had intensified since your brother's absence, leaving you to bear the brunt of his sharp tongue. The weight of his words felt heavier, cutting deeper as if to compensate for the missing target. Meanwhile, the staff's insubordination had increased, emboldened by the shifting dynamics.

Despite your frequent reminders that the tough façade wasn't as necessary without Neal around, Lee remained resolute in his approach. His determination to show the faculty that you were just another annoyance, merely another Gamby sibling he had to tolerate, was unwavering. He carried himself with an air of cold authority, a mask firmly in place to shield any sign of weakness, even if it meant pushing you further away.

Yet, you found yourself falling for him during every stolen moment in his office. Each encounter, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, unveiled the layers beneath his hardened exterior. The soft whispers, the fleeting touches, and the rare, unguarded smiles slowly revealed a side of him that was vulnerable and aching. Over time, you convinced yourself that Lee Russell was a deeply flawed man whom you could fix.

You watched his hand as it slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, tracing a gentle path along your thigh. You halted his advance by placing your hand over his, confronting his surprised look with a firm gaze of your own. "That's not how this works," you asserted clearly.

He let out a dramatic sigh and reclined in his chair, eyes shifting upwards to the stained ceiling tiles. "Do we have to go through this every time?" he asked, his voice laced with an unmistakable air of arrogance as he nudged his chair to swivel slightly with his feet.

"If you want to fuck me, then yes, we absolutely do," you responded, your tone flat and matter-of-fact. Your hands clutched the edges of the desk tightly, ready for whatever might follow. Observing him closely, you noted the visible struggle on his face as he prepared to speak, a battle of emotions that ended with him throwing his hands up in evident annoyance.

"Fine, fuck," he sighed, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that you made me shout at you," he mumbled, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on your knees. "There, are you happy now, you fucking cretin?" His gaze bore into yours with an intense mixture of annoyance and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. His eyes searched yours, seeking a reaction, a connection, while his rough words contrasted sharply with the tenderness of his touch.

You smiled down at him, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as your resolve waned. Casually, you draped both legs over the sides of his chair, your feet resting on either side of his legs. The room seemed to close in around you, the tension thick in the air as you held his gaze, challenging him silently while his hands remained on your knees..

Lee smirked, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs until it bunched at your waist, exposing more of your skin to the cool air. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of your panties, the fabric already darkening with the wetness that the tease of his fingers drew from you. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the raw hunger evident in his eyes making your heart race and your breath hitch. His hands, resting back on your knees, gripped a little tighter, the possessiveness in his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin prickled under his touch as he trailed soft kisses along your legs, from the inside of your knee to your thigh, until the curve of his nose pressed deliciously against your heat. You gasped, your hips involuntarily seeking more pressure from him, but he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam.

He sat back, his gaze intense as his hand slid up your inner thigh. Two fingers hooked behind the fabric of your underwear, swiping through your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You moaned as both fingers pressed against your entrance, the sensation electrifying. Lee's other hand pushed at your knee, spreading your legs wider, ensuring you were perfectly displayed for him.

His eyes roamed over you hungrily, the anticipation building as you felt the heat of his desire in his touch. Every sensation amplified, your body responding eagerly to his every move, you gasped into the silence of the room when his fingers finally filled you, buried to the knuckle, as he began to pump them in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. You leaned back against the desk on your elbows, head thrown back in pleasure, rutting your hips against him to encourage a faster speed.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp thwack against the fat of your thigh, his hand coming down hard and grabbing at the tender flesh. "Stay still. Don't be so fuckin' impatient, damn," he scolded, his voice a low growl, the command making your throat burn. The sting of his slap mingled with the pleasure from his fingers, heightening your arousal as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes bore into yours, a dominance there that made your pulse race even faster. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to obey, your body craving more even as you tried to remain still under his intense scrutiny.

"Maybe I should fire you. Can't take a simple instruction, can you? What use are you to me?" he taunted, his words cutting through you in a deliciously cruel way. The sting of his tone only deepened your need, a twisted thrill running through you at his harsh command. His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, and you fought to keep still, every fibre of your being wanting to both submit to and defy him.

You bit your tongue, staring up at the office ceiling. There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew it would only lead to arguments and, ultimately, not getting what you craved. So, you stayed silent. Instead, you adjusted yourself, laying your back flat against the desk and wriggling slightly when a stapler dug into your hip.

Once you settled, you slid one hand down your body until you reached the bunched-up skirt. Hooking two fingers around your panties, you pulled them aside to give him better access. The rush of cool, air-conditioned air hitting your hot pussy sent a shiver up your spine as you bared yourself completely to him. You watched his reaction, noting the way his eyes clouded, his breath catching slightly at the sight of you exposed and vulnerable before him.

The desk felt cold and hard beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat building between your legs. Every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation, the raw need to be touched and filled consuming your thoughts. The only sounds the hum of the air conditioner and the ragged breathing shared between you. You could feel his gaze like a physical touch, every second of his hesitation adding to the delicious torment.

As you lay there, fully exposed and waiting for his next move, your heart pounded in your chest. The thrill with Lee was always in the battle of wills, the way you both enjoyed the shifting power dynamic. Each moment was a tantalizing dance of dominance and submission, need and restraint.

You knew the hold you had over him, a card you kept close to your chest and only played when necessary. Yet, you loved watching him fall apart for you. His tough exterior and harsh words melted away in these intimate moments, revealing a vulnerability that was yours to command.

You could see the internal struggle on his face, the conflict between his need to dominate and the pleasure he derived from you taking what you wanted. It was a delicate balance, one you both played to perfection. As he finally leaned in, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous rhythm, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that in this intricate dance, you held the upper hand.

His nose to your pussy, he breathed you in deeply, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness. You arched your back slightly, simultaneously grinding down onto his fingers and pressing into the bridge of his nose, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intense connection between you two.

His hand tightened on your thigh, a silent command for you to stay still, but the gleam in his eyes as he looked up at you told you he relished your defiance. The raw desire in his gaze, the possessiveness of his touch, everything about this moment was intoxicating. As his fingers continued their relentless teasing, you felt the tension building, the delicious anticipation of what was to come.

Lee groaned at the sight of you, soaking wet and dripping just for him. Ever since his first taste, he couldn't get enough. He had lost his mind when you came on his tongue for the first time, practically riding his face to get the pressure exactly where you needed it. Lee loved that you used him for your own pleasure and revelled in using you for his, only to go about his day as if he hadn’t just had you bent over his desk and buried himself deep inside you.

His fingers quickened their pace, sliding in and out of you with practiced ease, each movement eliciting a soft moan from your lips. He watched you intently, his eyes dark with lust as you ran one hand over the swell of your breasts, pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse just hard enough to send a jolt down to your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of your perfume and the cigarette that he had moments before approaching you in the cafeteria, creating an intoxicating blend that drove him wild.

"You like this, don't you?" he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Being spread out on my desk, ready for me to take you whenever I want."

You responded with a gasp, your hips lifting to meet his hand, craving more of the exquisite friction he provided. His other hand gripped your thigh tightly, his thumb brushing against your sensitive skin, adding to the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

It excited him, made him hard when he thought about how no one knew what you let him do to you, and how they couldn’t do anything about it even if they did find out. The secrecy added a tantalizing edge to every encounter, an illicit thrill that made his pulse quicken.

The added twist of your brother, although messier, made it even more exhilarating. The rivalry with Neal meant that fucking you felt like a personal victory over the Vice Principal. Each time he had you, it was as if he was asserting his dominance, winning a private battle that only he understood.

Lee loved to win, and every stolen moment with you was a triumph. The thrill of conquest and the raw, unrestrained passion between you made his blood sing, fuelling his desire and solidifying his need to claim you again and again.

Sometimes, after coming down from your post-coital rendezvous in his office or under the bleachers, Lee would think that perhaps he didn't only love to win, but maybe loved you too. In those quiet moments, when the heat of passion had cooled and reality seeped back in, he felt a flicker of something deeper. Then, he'd light a cigarette, the sharp scent of tobacco filling the air, and shake his head, reminding himself that there were only three things he truly cared for in life—power, secrecy, and reputation.

You played a significant role in all of these. Your illicit encounters fuelled his sense of control, the thrill of secrecy added spice to his otherwise calculated life, and maintaining his pristine reputation meant everything to him, which he couldn't do without your cooperation. But no matter how good your pussy felt, he couldn't let you overshadow his priorities. He repeated this in his mind like a mantra as he leant forward, and licked a hot stripe up the expanse of you with the flat of his tongue.

"Lee," you mewled, the hand not on your breast moving to tangle in his frosted tips as he hooked your legs over his shoulder. His mouth was hot on you again, his tongue flicking back and forth as it lapped up the juices weeping from where his fingers were fucking into you. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His fingers moved in a steady rhythm, matching the pace of his tongue, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke as you muffled his moans. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, and he responded by pressing deeper, his growl vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Every nerve in your body was alight, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His grip on your thigh tightened, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. The combination of his fingers and tongue was driving you wild, your moans growing louder as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

When his nose nudged your sensitive nub, you cried out into the room. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed, his mouth leaving you but his fingers continuing their relentless assault. Whispered apologies fell from your lips as you writhed against the desk. He dipped his head again, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You felt him smirk against you, fully aware that what he was doing made it nearly impossible for you to stay quiet. The pressure of his mouth and the skilful movement of his fingers pushed you to the edge, each sensation amplified by the need to stifle your sounds.

Your whispered apologies turned to desperate pleas as he curled his fingers inside you, stroking with precision. You keened at the pleasure, rolling your hips to seek it again and again, your body completely at his mercy.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with his fingers as they worked you open. The sensations were overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending you spiralling closer to your climax.

Your body responded eagerly, muscles tensing and releasing as waves of pleasure threatened to course through you. "Ride my face," he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice adding to the intensity as his nails dug into your thigh, not holding you still this time but instead encouraging you to grind against him. "Go on, you know I want it. Don't hold back." His words were both a challenge and an invitation, urging you to take what you needed without hesitation.

With a few final, desperate rolls of your hips, you surrendered to the building pleasure, letting it crash over you in powerful bursts. Your climax tore through you, leaving you breathless and trembling, the room echoing with the sounds of your release. Your body convulsed, your swollen cunt clenching around his fingers and soaking them with a gush of juices that seeped down to the desk below.

Lee worked quickly, lapping up every bit of your release from you as the last of the shockwaves wracked your limp body. He kissed and nipped lightly at your thighs before drawing back to take your hands in his, pulling you up like a rag doll to sit before him. You slumped forward, resting your hands on his shoulders as he captured your lips in a heated kiss.

You sighed at the taste of yourself on his warm lips, his hands slinking around your waist to pull you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through his clothes. His kiss was intense, filled with raw hunger as he moaned against your lips, and you responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. The connection between you was electric, every touch and kiss reigniting the fire between you. You could feel his need, his desire to take you, and it matched your own as you rocked against him, swallowing his gasp with your kiss.

Your mind was still reeling from the high, your attention fixated on pulling Lee closer, savouring the taste of yourself on his lips. The office door opening went unnoticed, and your brother's booming voice didn't register until Lee abruptly pushed you off his lap, sending you sprawling onto the carpeted floor.

Disoriented, you clung to the edge of the mahogany desk, its polished surface slick under your fingers. You pulled yourself up and peeked over the wood, willing yourself to focus. There stood your brother, his face a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with anger. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the room. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice like thunder, one hand clenched at his side and the other gripping his ornate cane tightly.

"Gamby, I wasn't expecting you," Lee greeted with a forced smile, his fingers smoothing down the creases in his tie as he rose from his seat. His posture was stiff, tension evident in every movement. "Swift must have a damn death wish," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and edged with frustration. You winced at his words, feeling the sting of his disapproval.

"I sent Miss Swift on lunch," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to explain. You glanced up at Lee, his expression steely as he looked down upon you, a harsh glare that made you feel even smaller. You mouthed your apology, hoping to diffuse the tension, but the atmosphere in the room was thick with unease. The weight of your brother's stare was almost unbearable, and you could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" Neal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he drew both your attentions back to him. "Should I step outside so you can continue fucking my sister?" His voice was raised, face flushed, and you could see the prominent vein on his neck pulsing, a clear sign of his fury whenever he got worked up.

"What?" Lee asked, his voice taking on a jovial tone, though his smile faltered briefly. "Don't be an idiot, Gamby, I'm not fucking your sister," he reasoned, raising his hands in a placating gesture while nodding for you to get up from the floor.

Quickly, you adjusted your skirt, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You grabbed a manila folder that had fallen during the chaotic moment, clutching it tightly as if it could provide some semblance of reason. Rising to your feet, you held the folder up to Neal, trying to steady your shaking hands. "She was just helping with filing," Lee added, his voice smooth and reassuring but Neal's furious eyes remained fixed on him, scepticism etched across his face.

"Cut the bullshit, Russell! You've still got my sister's lady essence all over your goddamn mouth," Neal shouted in disgust, motioning to his own mouth with his hand. The air of pretence dropped from Lee's face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at your brother with disdain.

You placed a hand on Lee's arm, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you looked between the two men. "Can we behave like adults about this, please?" you implored, hoping to bring some sense of calm to the escalating situation.

Neal shrugged, eyebrows raised as he looked at you with disappointment written all over his face. "I just can't believe you're gonna break Mama's heart like this."

"Excuse me? What's Mama got to do with this?" you snapped, feeling a surge of frustration.

"Well, doesn't she have a right to know her only daughter has been defiled by a fuckin' leprechaun?" Neal shot back, his voice dripping with contempt.

"We're the same height, motherfucker," Lee interjected, his irritation clear as he stepped out from behind the desk, trying to defend himself.

"Russell, I swear to God if you do not point that thing somewhere else," Neal threatened, grabbing a cushion from the sofa beside him. He chucked it at Lee, who quickly caught it and held it over the bulging tent in his pants, his jaw tight.

He fixed Neal with a threatening glare. "Gamby, you need to understand that your sister is a grown woman with her own sexual desires, and I happen to be the one fulfilling those desires—really fulfilling them," he stressed, his smirk widening into a taunting grin. The words hung in the air, dripping with provocative intent. Neal's face contorted with disgust, his fist clenching at his sides. The tension between the two men was palpable, a volatile mix of anger and defiance that seemed ready to explode at any moment as they stared at each other from across the room.

"Lee, stop it," you said, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket but his eyes didn't move from Neals. You looked at your brother who pointed his cane to Lee, challenging him, and you sighed. "Neal, if you breathe a word of this to Mama, I'll tell her about Ms. Abbot giving you a sloppy in the supply closet," you threatened, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Neal's eyes snapped to you, then back to Lee, who held his hands up, his last ditch attempt at a gesture of innocence. Neal's face turned a shade redder, his fury momentarily replaced by shock and embarrassment as he dropped his cane back to his side. The balance of power shifted slightly, giving you a sliver of hope that the situation might be salvaged.

"You told her that? That's private, confidential information, Russell," Neal spat, his voice dripping with betrayal as he glared at Lee. "Just a couple of snakes in the grass, the pair of you."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "You know what? I've got a class to teach," you said, dropping the folder onto the desk with a thud. You moved towards the door, your steps purposeful. As you passed Neal, you paused, meeting his furious gaze with a calm steadiness. "I'll see you later at Janelle's race," you told him, hoping that by then he'd have somewhat gotten over this, although you knew it was going to take more than an afternoon for your stubborn brother to accept it.

He looked down at you, his demeanour wavering as you placed a hand on his arm. "I hope you wash the scent of shame from your body before you arrive," he said, his dramatic tone making you laugh despite the tension.

"Good to see you up and around, butthead," you said softly, giving his arm a light pat before reaching for the door. You turned back and glanced toward Lee, who was now slumped back in his chair with a pout on his face, still holding the cushion over his lap. You gave him a small wave. He rolled his eyes and shooed you away with a brush of his hand, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation.

As you stepped out of the office, you drew a deep breath, relieved to be out of the suffocating room. You knew that the repercussions of this encounter were far from over, but for now, you had other responsibilities to attend to, and the chaos of the moment would have to wait.

As you left, the muffled sounds of Lee and Neal arguing drifted through the door. You walked past Miss Swift, who had now returned to the reception area, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I'd give them a moment," you told her, offering a small, knowing smile. Miss Swift nodded, her curiosity momentarily subdued, and you continued on your way, grateful to put some distance between yourself and the tumultuous scene you had left behind.

Hours later, as you sat at your desk watching your students during the afternoon pop quiz, you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your skirt. The room was quiet except for the scratching of pencils on paper and the occasional rustle of paper. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, you discreetly pulled out your phone. The soft glow of the screen lit up your face as you saw the notification. You couldn't help but smile to yourself at the message, the tension from earlier in the day easing slightly.

Lee: Your brother's a little bitch. My least favourite Gamby.

You stifled a chuckle, biting your lip as you imagined the irritated look on Lee's face while typing the message. Moments later, another message arrived.

Lee: ❤️

The unexpected emoji made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up to ensure your students were still focused on their quiz, then allowed yourself a brief moment to savour the warm feeling spreading through your chest. You tucked your phone away, the smile lingering on your lips as you tried to refocus on your students, your mind still replaying the texts long past the bell.

#lee russell x reader #lee russell smut #vice principals #vice principals x reader #vice principals x smut #lee russell #neal gamby #gamby!reader #xreader #walton goggins #lee russell x you #lee russell fic

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crazylittlejester · 6 months ago

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Warriors always woke up first. That was how it worked. He said it was his military training. Time just stared at him and tried to convince him to sleep closer to Sky.

This morning, Warriors woke up to Time and Wild talking over the campfire. Wild made sense. He had last watch. Time, not too much. Warriors hoped Time wasn't having sleeping issues again. He checked before he went to sleep and the moon was waxing, not full.

He was still mulling over that when Time approached him with a cup of coffee. "Good morning," Time greeted him. He handed it to Warriors, and to Warriors's shame, everything else fell away as he greedily reached for the nectar of the Goddesses.

If there was an issue with Time, Warriors would just keep an eye on him. Hopefully, it was something small.

By lunchtime, Warriors determined it wasn't just Time.

Breakfast was a sweet spiced porridge Warriors loved. At the time, he didn't question his luck. A delicious breakfast and coffee? He was happy.

Wind stuck close to him all day. He kept grabbing Warriors's hand and asking for stories about sisters when he wasn't sharing stories about his own. Warriors didn't have to fight to keep him in line once.

Hyrule gifted him orange flowers and acorns.

Legend kept his teasing concerningly light-hearted.

Sky found feathers and tucked them in Warriors's hair.

Twilight randomly hugged him during a small walking break. Warriors began to fear that he was dying and no one had told him.

Four gave him a book and told him that he noticed Warriors kept rereading his material. Gave him. A book. Voluntarily surrendered a book.

Maybe they had destroyed some of his stuff and was sweetening him up before admitting it. Warriors feared what they broke to have them do all of this.

When Time announced they were stopping for lunch and Wild announced he was going to make creamy heart soup, one of Warriors' favorite meals, Warriors feared the worst. Something had to have shown on his face, for Time tugged him into a quick side hug and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Happy Mother's Day, Link."

They could have been burning all of his belongings right then and Warriors wouldn't have noticed. He was too busy hiding his face in his hands, unsure if he was going to smile or cry.

- mom warriors anon

TEARS IN MY FUCKING EYES RIGHT NOW ANON I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH. He’s the group mom, they all know it, he’s their mom

OUGHH this is so sweet i cant get over it 😭

happy mothers day LU Wars, we thank you for your service 🫡

#jes talks #jes ask #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wars #mom wars anon fic

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anticmiscellaney · 2 years ago

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Quotes from my friend @puptitanpup - a legend in his own lunchtime - that I illustrated as film frames.

#not fanart #fake gay films

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breannasfluff · 11 months ago

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Winter Interlude: Wolfie Edition

By lunchtime, the snowman is done. Wind’s scarf is donated as decoration and Twilight helps Sky and Wild heave the middle on the bottom. The head requires the rancher to balance on Warriors’ shoulders for enough height to get it on. The captain is kind enough not to dump him in the snow bank until after the head is on.

Wind finds two evergreen branches they stick in for wings. It’s an impressive figure when they stand back to admire. Then they all troop into the house for sandwiches and a rest.

Wild checks the roast and Ravio and Legend ladle out mugs of cider, kept warm near the edge of the fire while they were outside. The smell of citrus slices and spices fills the air, twining with the growing scent of cooking meat.

The seabirds opt for fish sandwiches—no surprise there. The raptors jostle and flare their wings in mock aggression as they fight over meat for sandwiches.

Ravio sidles up to Wild with a sidelong look. “You and Four like beetles, right?”

Wild abandons cooking at the mention of bugs, ears pricking. “Yes. Those rolls this morning were amazing. Why?”

“I’ve got some dried bees set aside if you and Four want bee and honey sandwiches?”

“Yes!” Wild claps a hand over his mouth at the loud answer, giggling as the others turn to look at him. He gives a short whistle for Four, who wiggles through the crush of bodies and ducks under wings to reach them.

“What’s going on?”

“Bee and honey sandwiches!”

The bee-eater’s eyes turn into saucers and he flings himself at Ravio in a sudden hug. “You are my favorite bird, you know that?”

“Hey!” Time extracts himself from the raptors, triumphant with meat in hand. “What about your flock leader?”

Four sticks out his tongue. “You can always buy my affection!”

The kite clutches at his heart, letting his wings droop. “Crushed…cast down by my own flock…the pain…I don’t think I can go on.”

Warriors’ grin is knife-sharp as he comes by. “You won’t need the meat then!” He plucks it from Time’s grip and dives back into the mess of avians making sandwiches.

Four, Wild, and Ravio stand in silence and stare at Time, waiting to see what he’ll do. Heaving a sigh, their leader grabs his satchel from the bench and digs inside. Out comes two shiny beetles, passed to Wild and Four.

“Sorry, Ravio, I don’t have one for you.”

The bowerbird laughs and waves it away. “That’s okay, thank you for thinking of me!”

“Time!” Wild grabs his slate and taps at the screen. Holding out his hand, he waits for sandwich meat to appear in a swirl of blue and hands it over. “Thanks for the bug! You can be my favorite today.”

Time preens and keeps a tight hold of his sandwich fixings.

Rolling his eyes, Ravio pats Wild and Four on the shoulder and heads to the pantry to get the bees.

After lunch, it’s Time, Warriors, Twilight, and Wild that head back outside. The others are still eating or warming chilled feathers.

The magpie is reenergized with the break for food, as are the rest of them. Time decks Twilight in the face with a snowball.

“All right, that’s it! I’ve had enough of freezing my feathers off like this!” The rancher shoots their flock leader a nasty look.

Wild smirks and pats his snowball a little firmer. “If you wore more layers, this wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’ve got a solution for that!” Twilight digs under his shirt and pulls out his odd necklace. Wild’s seen it before, but never not around the rancher’s neck.

#lu wing bois #lu wing au #winter interlude #lu wolfie #lu twilight #lu wild #lu four #lu time #lu warriors #lu ravio #lu legend #we finally meet wolfie!#lu dusk #breannasfluff #my writing

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zilabee · 10 months ago

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Living The Beatles Legend, by Ken Womack: ____________________________________________

At twenty-six, Mal was much older than the [Cavern's] usual lunchtime crowd [...] “I could sit there for three hours and think maybe 10 minutes had gone by.” Mal took special note of the three vocalists—John, Paul, and George: “They were very high-pitched and there was harmony.” By the time he made his way back up to the street, he was hooked: “I fell in love with them.”

In Lily’s memory, Brian’s job offer was an agonizing prospect for her husband. “He had a lot of sleepless nights, wondering if he should go on with them,” she recalled. “I didn’t want him to. I told him, ‘You’re a person in your own right—you don’t need to follow others.’ But he was starstruck.”

“I was still green at the job of roadie, and the Beatles had been very tolerant with the mistakes I made while settling in and learning my new trade,” Mal wrote. “Mind you, in the first week I worked with them, I was to be fired about seven times, as first one thing then the other went wrong.”

“I’ve been called many things in my life, but it was on the Italian trip that the people backstage called me ‘Mammut.’ I kept thinking it was an Italian version of my name, until I found out it meant mammoth! [...] Everyone I met seemed to be small of stature, and I would see three of them struggling with a heavy piece of equipment, and strolling over, [I'd] take it off them, hoist it on my own shoulders and walk away with it, so gaining my own little admiration society. They thought I was one of the strongest men in the world. And for quite a while after, I got called Mammoth, instead of Mal, by the Beatles.”

“Brian and Neil and I had developed this policy that we wouldn’t pose in photographs with the Beatles,” [Tony Barrow] recalled. “Fans wanted to take pictures of the band, and they didn’t want us hanging around beside the boys.” But Mal had clearly developed a yen, early on, for being as near as possible to the Beatles’ vortex of fame. The flashbulbs and the band’s celebrity were simply too much for him to resist. Consequently, said Tony, “Mal was always in the fucking photographs.”

[...]the Beatles had several more gigs at the Olympia, including a February 1 show where Paul nearly missed his cue, having become enchanted with a woman backstage. With the curtain about to go up, Neil nervously strapped on Paul’s Höfner bass and took his place onstage. At the last moment, Paul leapt into action. But Neil had been ready to make a go of it, and he later scrawled in Mal’s diary that he had been “quite prepared to fake it.”

Victoria recalled following him through “this big, dark club way into the back, and suddenly there’s Paul McCartney, who says, ‘Hello, Vicky.’ And I’m thinking, ‘I could die now and my life would be complete.’ And then we sit down, and Paul orders drinks, and he says, ‘Scotch and Coke, three doubles.’ And I’m thinking, ‘I’m seventeen. I’ve never had a single’.” Poignantly, during her conversation with the Beatle, she remembered looking over at Mal, and “I could tell that he was really happy because he knew what he was doing for me. You know, he knew he was giving me this memory that would last forever.”

____________________________________________

“[George Martin] admitted to me that when I first joined the group, he was a little antagonistic at somebody else getting close to the Beatles. I understood exactly what he meant, for I have the same feeling for them. One not only gets very protective, but a little selfish and jealous of anybody who gets close to them.”

____________________________________________

“Mal introduced me to my first drug dealer,” [Kevin Harrington] later recalled, “a lovely Caribbean man who lived in Notting Hill. I used to buy an ounce a week for £11, and was told by Mal to put it down on expenses as ‘sweets.’” On two separate occasions, Apple’s Wigmore Street bookkeeper questioned Kevin about the amount he was spending on sweets—that is, until Harrington told Mal about the hassle he was getting from the accounting department. The next time Kevin turned in his receipts for sweets, the bookkeeper merely smiled.

[Mal was] summoned to 7 Cavendish Avenue in the middle of the night after the fans who kept vigil outside Paul’s house dognapped Eddie, McCartney’s Yorkshire terrier. “Mal had to go to the police station to get him back,” Francie recalled. “The girls insisted they wouldn’t release the dog unless Paul came. I talked to them on the phone, and somehow they returned the poor thing. Paul was less upset than I was.”

[Jann] Haworth vividly recalled Mal’s good-natured attitude during their lengthy sessions to stage the cover art. “He was a very sweet person in a world of poseurs,” she said. “Where everyone else seemed fractious and self-serving, Mal was laid-back and genuine.”

“I stayed as close to Paul as I possibly could,” Mal added, although his efforts had nothing to do with protecting the Beatle’s safety. Rather, they were a clumsy attempt to ensure he was photographed along with such A-listers as McCartney and Redgrave. He tried as hard as he possibly could, “but Paul still got photographed by himself!”

____________________________________________

Mal understood that he was, in a sense, mothering the band members. “I was always making tea, sandwiches, or scrambled eggs,” he said, “just doing anything to look after them, to make sure we kept them working well. The whole thing was, ‘You make the music, and I’ll do anything in the world to make you comfortable’.”

____________________________________________

“I realized that Malcolm lived to please those guys, just like Hare Krishnas live to please their guru. It’s like, ‘I’m going to scrub the banisters, and I’m going to get down on my hands and knees and polish these steps. And then I’m going to do it again, because I want to serve the guru’. That’s how I believe Mal felt about serving the Beatles. They were his guru.” - Victoria, a young girl Mal had an affair with.

By now, despite living in the same city as Mal, Lily knew that she and the children would always come second. “And it was very hurtful,” she later said. Mal would ditch the family for even the slightest hint of Beatle business, and “I would cover up for him, saying, ‘Daddy has to be away for work.’ One day, we were all ready for a family outing to the zoo,” she recalled, “when George rang to ask Mal for a guitar string. Instead of insisting on taking his kids out, he drove off to see George. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on [the children’s] faces.”

For several days in advance of shooting the scene, the other, vastly more experienced actors on the set had relentlessly hazed Mal, predicting that he would botch his lines. [...] Ringo heroically came to his friend’s aid, volunteering, in a moment of sublime role reversal, to act as Mal’s “road manager for the day,” tending to his makeup, sating his hunger, and plying him with coffee and tea on the set. In the end, a determined Mal delivered his lines perfectly, admitting that “it was a good day for me, for I love being in front of the camera.”

At the hospital, Mal received fifteen stitches above his left eye, while Harry required several stitches in one of his cheeks. Initially, there was some concern that Mal might lose vision in his left eye. For Mal, there must have been “a guardian angel looking out for fools and drunks,” he reasoned after learning he would retain his sight. “It must have been funny for the hospital staff,” he added, “because when they were stitching me up, I remember lying on the table chanting the Hare Krishna mantra, feeling no pain whatsoever, but poor old Harry was having a terrible time on the next table, shouting and kicking.”

Harry Nilsson remembered a particularly madcap evening at the hotel when he spotted Mal attempting to console John, lost to another bender. “One night he was crying on Mal Evans’s shoulder, saying, ‘I was always a good boy. I was always a good boy,’” Nilsson recalled. “And Mal said, ‘Right brother, you were always a good boy.’ And I told him, ‘What is this horseshit? Stop being a baby. You’re being a baby.’ ‘Well, if you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out!’ John yelled. ‘Well, all right,’ and I slammed the door, and I was crying.”

____________________________________________

“I want the four of them to love my book. That’s my whole dream. My whole dream would be realised if they said, ‘I love what you’re doing’.”

____________________________________________

#beatles books #mal evans #long post #sorry #the beatles #beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #harry nilsson #ringo starr #kevin harrington

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

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Nepo baby dream in a skirt... hnngg.. dream has always worn suits to work, slim cut and tailored. He wears the pencil skirt and blouse combo for hob but also for all the lewd stares hes getting. Its not particularly short but its still a LOT more skin than hes ever shown!! Hes got nylons on and shiny black kitten heels, he cant balance in anything higher and its very clear thats the reason for the shoe choice... the blouse is a lacy, ruffled thing tucked into the high waisted skirt and only going just past his elbow for a tantalizing show of his forearms. Hob is tailing after him all day (as usual) and even takes a picture under his skirt where other men can see him doing it... dream Knows. Hes so into it hes surprised he hasnt started dripping down his leg. Hob gets a beautiful picture of the pretty pink panties, visible under the sheer seat of the nylons. It culminates in dream carrying some folders of documents and hob slaps his ass when everyone is looking. Dream is so surprised he drops all the papers, spilling everywhere and he falls on his short heels while trying to catch them. Hob does try to catch him, and dream doesnt hit the ground as hard as expected, but hes still on his ass on the floor. Teary eyed and blushing with his skirt riding up. Its obviously the talk of the break room but most people agree he deserves to be taken down a notch with how much of a stuck up princess he is. Hob DOES feel pretty guilty because the fall was not the plan!! But dream practically jumps him when they get back to his office and hob gets to rip a hole in his nylons to fuck him against the window. Hes so horny and needy and his eyeliner is smudging and running as he cries and begs hob to RUIN him. Needless to say, every single person they pass on the way out notices the messy makeup and the distinct lack of nylons... dream almost looks SWEET leaning on his assistant as hob cradles a protective arm around his waist, but that cant possibly be true with how much of a cold bitch they all know dream to be 😂

-🔪

OOF literally drooling about this. Hob up-skirting Dream and tormenting him in front of everyone? Fuck yeah.

Just imagine what a legend Hob is in the office. All the sleazy guys want to know what he's getting up to with Dream, and sometimes he'll tease them with a picture or two (only with Dream’s full and enthusiastic consent). Everyone wonders how on earth Hob can get away with treating the prissy little boss's kid like that! Of course they don't know that Dream absolutely begs to be degraded and wishes that Hob would take it further.

Very very occasionally they switch roles and Hob puts on the slutty secretary act. He dresses in his tightest slacks, bats his eyelashes and openly flirts with "Mr Endless"... while Dream attempts to take on the dominant role. He isn't so good at it, bless him, but he does rather enjoy spanking Hob over his own desk.

Mostly, though? Dream puts on his little cotton panties and perfect tailored suit, and he shows up to work with Hob at his side (everyone saw them share a ride to work)... and by lunchtime, his panties are in Hob’s pocket, his legs are spread, and he's demanding that Hob eat him out at least twice before their afternoon meetings begin. And yes, Dream’s office has fourclear glass walls. If anyone sees anything, well. They shouldn't have been looking! <3

#🔪 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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effielumiere · 2 years ago

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The Companion 9

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre:Romance, Idol AU, Drama, Comedy, Angst, Soulmate AU (Began in chapter 5), Slow burn (ended)

Chapter Warning(s): Teenager Jimin and MC. Angst if you squint. Fluff. Bed? Bed. Cuddles? Cuddles. UNEDITED!

Legend: English / Korean

POV: 3rd

Word count: 4k

A/N: A bit of In the Soop S2 and Jimin has an offer for Y/n. This is the second to last chapter. Chapter ten will be uploaded very soon, along with a surprise, hehe. the next one is gonna be a short one. Brace yourselves.

< eight | masterlist | ten >

~~~~~^^~~~~~~~~^^^

Y/n woke up sweating despite the sound of the air-conditioning running. She groaned rubbing the sleep off her eyes, moving her arms as she tries to get up she came to a halt when she noticed the iron grip around her became noticeable.

"What the fuck?" She groaned in a hoarse voice. Glancing at her torso, she noticed that iron grip was actually an arm, it was also way too warm. Turning from her side to see who the owner of the arm is she was about wake them up and scold them for the warmth and clinginess, but to her surprise it wasn't easy as whoever it was snuggled deeper on the back of her neck, moaning in disapproval.

She froze, who in the world would be next to her. Trying to move again only to fail and for the grip to tightenq more, she stopped and huffed in frustration.

"Stop moving," said her captor, his hot breath on her neck and back.

"It's too hot," she complained "let go of me"

"It's too cold," he complained back at her, snuggling deeper between her neck and the pillow stiffening when he realized he wasn't exactly hugging one of his brothers but his soulmate instead. He forced himself to relax, and it kinda worked until she started freeing herself from his hold

With all her might, Y/n twisted her body to turn to him. Faced with a mop of dark brown hair, she chuckled as she pulled a lock of it to peek at him to meet his puppy eyes.

"Good morning," she greeted him and he returned greeting only to snuggle against her again. Before he got closer she finally found out why it was too warm. He slept shirtless.

"We have to get up, Jimin," she said as she tried to push his shoulder with the heel of her hands, but he won't budge.

"We just went to bed, Y/n-ssi," he whined "But go on ahead if you wanna grab breakfast," he sighs letting her go to turn on his opposite side to hug a pillow. Realizing he's asleep again, she slowly got up and washed up to head to the main house to find Yoongi deep in thoughts about what to cook for breakfast and lunch, Hobi beside him.

"Good morning, Y/n-ssi," Hobi happily greeted her

"Coffee?" Yoongi asked, pointing at the coffee machine next to him.

Shaking her head, she looked up at the empty library on the second floor and then back at them before asking, "Do you guys need help with anything?"

Yoongi shakes his head "Not yet, but you could take a seat and we'll call you if need an extra pair of hands"

Nodding she points at the second floor "Alright, I'll be upstairs" receiving a nod from the two men before heading to where she planned on taking a short nap as Hobi went to wake up the other members.

Around what seemed to be lunchtime, Jimin was awoken by Jungkook who was announcing lunch only to get a response that he just got to bed. When Jungkook got back to the main house, not knowing Y/n was peacefully napping in the second floor he couldn't resist asking his hyungs "Did we miss something?" He says as he starts helping out "Y/n-ssi wasn't in Jimin-hyung's room,"

"She's upstairs," Yoongi mumbled to him, Jungkook's eyes widened

"Holy shit," he quietly exclaimed "I was just about to ask if she ran off last night after last night"

"Why? what happened?" Jin asked "Aside from them switching rooms with Namjoon and the missing bedroom"

Just as he mentioned their leader, the man walks in from the living room like a Don who owned the land erupting laugher from Jin triggering Hobi's laughter which brought Y/n sleep to an end, Taehyung was already having fun with the karaoke system but Y/n drowned it out eventually, Hobi even went to check if she was awake by all the ruckus.

"Not sure, but my best guess is they saw each other from the way Jimin smiled when I asked him where his soulmate was," Jungkook said in a quiet tone. Namjoon went straight back to Taehyung to continue their scream dorebang, making Jin shake his head as he dropped everything he was doing and climbed the stairs to the second floor, only to find Y/n with what looked like an annoyed look on her fave that resembled Hoseok when you wake him up abruptly, making Jin snort to cover his laugh.

"Y/n-ssi," he gently called to her "Are you awake?"

"Hmm," she hummed half annoyed that she was awoken to Namjoon's yell-singing on the karaoke machine followed by Taehyung's whooping. Though she didn't complain, Jin could sense what she was feeling from the way she looked around her surroundings only to close her eyes and wince when another round of Namjoon and Taehyung's whooping was heard. Jin was about to yell at them only to hear Hobi and Yoongi yell at them to set the table, making them step away from the living room.

"Come on," he calls again "lunch time".

Y/n gets up and slowly walks towards the stairs Jin moves to the side to make her climb down the stairs ahead of him to make sure she didn't trip or lose her balance. Thankfully, she made it safely to the lower floor.

"What can I help with?" She asks looking at the older members only to meet Yoongi's gaze "We got it just take a seat, we're waiting for Jimin,"

Y/n sat on the dining table looking at the food but not feeling hungry at all, not when she remembered that their lunch was what she ate at the Dreamstate during her mini nap.

~~~~○○○○○~~~~

Dreamstate - Brunch

"You're back way too early," Jimin remarked as she startled him while he was washing the dishes in the kitchen, pink gloves and all. He pretends to look at his reflection on the glass window. "Damn, you really must think of Jimin often. Twice in one day?!"

"S-shut up." She stuttered making Jimin grin at the dishes he was washing.

"Jeeze woman," he exclaimed looking at the other dishes he had still to wash "Would it kill you to wash the dishes?!"

"Yes, because I'm busy,"

"You mean when you're awake," he raised an eyebrow, half turning toward where she was sitting at the dining table"You hungry?"

"I think I don't have an appetite when you're around," she muttered hoping he wouldn't hear

"Shouldn't you feel more energetic?" He asks "Because you know, you like him," he teases wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/n grabs the nearest kitchen towel hanging on the back of one of the dining chairs and aims for his head.

"Stoooop!" He whines "I'm washing your god damned dishes, woman. Be nice," he playfully snaps pointing at the dishes with a soapy wooden spoon "I even offered breakfast, be nice to me" he repeated.

"Tteokbokki is not breakfast," Y/n complains

"Do you have a choice?" He raises another eyebrow at her mockingly. At that moment she wished there was another to throw at his face, and to her surprise it appeared. Her jaw dropped as her eyes turn into saucers, before Jimin could react another towel hits him lightly in the face blocking his view of her.

In the past few year's that Y/n was there, the last time something appeared when she asked was when she fell asleep in the bus on her way home and she was starving hoping for something like a few servings of carbonara to fill her up paired with her a bottle of water to quench her thirst. She didn't think much of it then when she appeared in the Dreamstate welcomed home by delicious food and all she had to do was warm it up in the microwave.

"Tteokbokki it is," Jimin huffed "I was thinking about making Kimchi-jiggae but now I take it back,"

Y/n starts to stutter an apology but it was backed by Jimin pretending to be hurt as he continued to wash her dishes. Y/n walked up to Jimin to hug him from behind making him halt for a second before relaxing under her touch.

"Still not making Kimchi-jiggae," he grins

"But Jimin-" she interjected

"Rinse these and I might change my mind, but it's for dinner," he points at the dishes covered in suds on the sink next to him. Y/n peeks over his shoulder to get a good look at his side profile then says "Park Jimin wouldn't treat me like this," forgetting that she wanted him to spill the details of her past memory because of his god damned beauty; making her forget the world.

"Woman, you'd be surprised" he retorts laughing making her give up and complying to his wishes to help him with the dishes before having a bite of tteokbokki and washing her own plate making him laugh.

~~~~○○○○○~~~~

"Y/n-ssi," Yoongi calls her again, she jumps at his voice "Welcome back" he grins as he turns towards her. Glancing back at their lunch, she starts to dig in at the bowl handed to her by Tae who filled it with tteokbokki. As she was eating, Hobi announces the arrival of Jimin who was in all black. The other members clap as he walks in and he plays along waving and bowing like a prince before sitting in front of her and digging in.

Jimin avoided eye contact with Y/n and tried his very best not to react at what their lunch was. As soon as he was done resting for a bit after eating, he stepped out to play basketball followed by Yoongi, who only went out after the members instructed to teach Jimin some more basketball.

Y/n and the other members stayed a little longer watching the basketball duo.

"Sorry about the sudden room switch," Namjoon says breaking the silence.

"It couldn't be avoided," she says . "Jimin sleeps like a log and he feels like a burning log if you're enveloped in his arms."

"That both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time," Namjoon says

"It was comfortable at first, but not in the morning, especially when he acts like a koala," she gives him a straight line that reminds him of Yoongi while Jungkook snorts.

"You should see him when he's asleep. He looks like a log with a marshmallow for a face"

"Smores," Hobi chuckles "That would be great if we were camping in spring but it's too hot."

"It might rain soon, according to the weather forecast," Jungkook states making everyone at the table nod.

After a long beat of silence Yoongi suddenly props up "I cooked,"

"Don't let Y/n wash the dishes," Namjoon says before Y/n could even offer to wash the dishes despite hating the chore.

"He's right," Jin and Yoongi agreed

Y/n zoned out as she looks out the glass window behind Jungkook to the court where Yoongi and Jimin were playing basketball. Jimin would listen intently to what Yoongi was saying as he dribbled the ball before throwing it at the hoop. She tilts her head in wonder, she's seen this before but she couldn't quite place it. It gave her a sense of deja vu the more she stared at the sight, but there was something wrong with how everything else was. And like a lighting flash, the scene came to life before her eyes as Jimin turned to face the house with the ball still in his dainty but manly hands, staring right at her.

~~~~○○○○○~~~~

Dreamstate - ???

The morning sun was being mean, but it didn't stop Jimin from grabbing the basketball. After giving up on his search for Y/n's sunscreen, he walked straight outside the ball in his hand, and he did the one thing he found out they could do a couple of years ago; ask.

The rule of ask for something and you shall receive happened often in the Dreamstate.The two of them learned it after they finally got bored of trying to explore the areas surrounding the beach house. It was a lone island, they concluded. With a house for the two of them and a forest behind the house which they both promised to never explore again after what happened 7 years ago. It was nearly Jimin's 15th birthday and all he wanted was space from Y/n. As much as he loved her, he needed space and time to think, and this was the one place and time he knew where to hide. It was noon and the sun was high up in the sky. He would end up getting tanned when he wakes up but he didn't care too much.

He had just moved to Seoul and started making friends when shit hit the fan with his life in the Dreamstate. Not wanting to lose focus, he settles for a game of basketball despite not being too good at it. Little did he know, even with the difference with their timezones, Y/n got the chance to sleep early and skip school just to find Jimin in the Dreamstate profusely sweating as he threw the ball at the hoop. Sensing her, he turns towards the beach house to find his soulmate watching him, and he looks back at her with a gaze that holds a thousand questions. One of them was 'why'; why wasn't she in love with him instead.

~~~~○○○○○~~~~

Hoseok's loud laugh brought her back to the present, making her shake her head slightly before excusing herself to find the restroom. The entire time, Taehyung was watching her. He knew somewhat knew that look. It was how one would look when they remembered something, and at that moment, he knew she remembered something. It made him pull his phone out to text his best friend, but even if he did, Jimin left his phone back in their bedroom and didn't open it before they headed to bed that evening.

~~~~******~~~~~*****

Dreamstate: That evening

"What's this?" Y/n asks as she sat on the dining table. A tiny dessert plate was covered with what looked like a bowl and a spoon next to it.

"Open it and you shall see," Jimin grins as if he was waiting for her to learn a secret he's keeping "Pull the cover upwards," he instructed gently and she complies.

Slowly living the cover, she discovers shaved ice surrounded by her favourite fruits, including dragon fruit and strawberries.

"Bingsu," he says in a low voice, looking at the dessert and then at her face. "With your favourite toppings, of course,"

"How did you-" she began to ask only for Jimin to smile sweetly

"I'm your subconsciousness, remember?" He says "I know everything you don't know; I remember everything you don't remember,"

"I find this place ridiculous, I spoke to you fluently in Hangul when I found you yesterday then when I switched to English and you're suddenly fluent"

Jimin lightly face palms himself with a groan before running his hands on his face "Lady, you're so difficult,"

"And you're not yet spilling the tea," Y/n retorts "Start talking before I start firing questions instead of you explaining them,"

Jimin stared at her unfazed. Y/n took that as a sign to bug him.

"What's deal with this place?" She starts "Where am I? Why in the world is my subconsciousness talking to me? Why of all the faces you can choose you chose Jimin? Why are you here-" Jimin stops her placing both of his hands on her shoulders

"Calm down," he stared at her eyes "Calm down, we have all the time in the world,"

"I feel like we don't," she says in whisper "I feel like once we go back to Seoul, you'll be gone too,"

"Nahh, that's not how it works. I'm only here because you're lonely," he smiles

"I'm not," she denied poking the bingsu with her spoon before scooping up the dessert and bringing it to her mouth and letting all the flavors of the fruits burst and blow her mind.

"How-" she was going to ask him how she was able to taste it but Jimin stops her before she could even finish her question.

"I'll start with the basics," he says picking up a spoon from thin air, she pointedly stares at the spoon in surprise making Jimin smirk "You're not the only one who could to that you know," he was implying to the kitchen towel that appeared out of nowhere earlier in the day, fully aware that it wasn't going to take a night to answer all her questions let alone, explain everything and make her remember too.

"Let's start conditions I have if we do continue this," he says leaning back on his chair

"That's bullshit," she exclaims with a mouthful of bingsu "What's with the rules? Why?"

'Because you started it' Jimin almost wanted to blurt out but stopped himself from doing so. "Because if there are no rules, you won't listen and if you don't listen, then I'm not gonna give you what you want."

"And what do you think that is?" She challenged

"The truth," he points out "You deserve the truth,"

He was right, Y/n wanted nothing more than to know her past. Her parents were being cryptic about her soulmate whenever she asked them. They'd say she had one only to follow up with he's probably busy, living in a different timezone, blah blah blah. To say she had enough was an understatement. The only clue she had about him were the drawings she found in the house that had letters at the back, which she found out were direct addressed for her. Her name written in Hangul by her soulmate.

"Alright," she says "get on with it,"

Jimin sat up straight and started counting with his adorable chubby fingers the rules of their Dreamstate.

"Number one," he starts "You don't talk to Jimin about everything you learn here,"

Y/n was about to ask him why when Jimin interrupted her "Number two: You don't question the rules"

Y/n backed down and started picking at her melting bingsu.

"Number three: You don't abruptly leave the Dreamstate unless I say so, and that goes for when you're awake; you can't leave Jimin," he lightly scratches his eyebrown in thought as made up another rule, they were too farfetched but he had to make them up "Four: You won't get mad at Jimin no matter the information you learn here. Five: Don'tget mad at me or real Jimin. Six: " he stopped as he looked at where her hands were resting on the table. Slowly, he reached out for her hand. Fingertips slowly traced the back of her hand before he placed his hands in hers, it was warm he just hoped that she was unaware of how real their touch felt to each other when they were in the Dreamstate because his hands were so clammy it was embarrassing.

"Believe and embrace your past, and do not to reject your soulmate, whoever he may be," he said in a low voice.

"Do you know my soulmate?!" She exclaimed "Where is he then?!"

"Keep your voice down, lady," he playfully scolds her "He's not here... yet. You'll find him once you find yourself,"

"Hmmm," she hummed in approval "You do sound like me,"

"That's because I am you, duh" he rolled his eyes. Y/n laughed at the action "Never in my life have I seen Park Jimin roll his eyes,"

"Well then you need to watch more videos" he smiled.

"Let's start off slow," Jimin announces "What's the first memory you want to know?"

"The day we-" she stopped herself not before being stopped by Jimin.

"You could refer to me as him you know; real Jimin"

"Can I?" She asks like a small child hesitantly asking to keep something they found. Jimin nods "Yes, to make yourself comfortable and I'll do the same," she continues her question.

"I want to know about the day we first met," she says looking at the pictures on the wall that clearly showcased young Jimin and young Y/n. They started appearing the afternoon after they had brunch and it was almost like the Dreamstate wanted her to remember something, starting with pictures of their younger selves.

"Do you want the memory or the story?"

He asks her

"W-what?" She questions. Confused.

"Do you want to see the memory or hear the story?" he asks her. Hesitant, he stands up and puts his hand out for her to hold "I can do both, but it's up to you to choose"

"How will I see the memory?" She asks staring at his hand

"I can think of a few ways" he smiles.

She might believe that this Jimin is her subconsciousness, but subconsciousness or not. She wanted to know the truth. Placing her hand in his made Jimin smile. It's the first step towards having her back; trust.

"I almost forgot," he annouced

"Now, what?" She scoffed rolling her eyes

"One last condition," leaning towards her, he spoke in a low voice "No matter the information you learn from me today onwards, promise me you won't see it as an act of betrayal done by Jimin and everyone around you."

"And if I don't agree," she asks

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to leave you and let you remember everything on your own."

"Can I think about it?" She looks up at Jimin. Behind him the sky was turning into a pretty mix of purple and orange telling them that morning has arrived, Y/n felt a surge of sadness come over her. For some reason, she trusts this vision of Jimin. Probably because she also believes that this was her subconsciousness making a deal with her in the form of Park freaking Jimin.

"Sure," he shrugs then gestures towards the main door of the house "There's a button next to the main door labelled 'stars', that's the front porch light. Leave them on so I'll know the next night you sleep you're ready to talk." Y/n turned toward the door seeing a yellow neon tape next to one of the three light switches finally understanding what it was.

"I-" she she stuttered, turning back to Jimin to agree with him, she found him gone as if he disappeared into thin air.

"I'll wait for you," she said into the empty said, the continuous feeling of sadness felt like a cloud full of rain ready to pour down on her.

Soop - Daytime

Jimin slowly opened his eyes to find see the sun peering through the blind of his shared room with Y/n. He also found her slightly curled figure on his cuddling him with her arms wrapped tight around his torso, her head on his chest. Jimin stared at her head in disbelief. He admits that yesterday was something he would normally do to anyone; cuddle them in their sleep, but this was something else. Yesterday was hurried, but sweet. Today was more intimate. He felt immediate relief as he tightened his arm that was around her shoulder and back, the other he gently placed on the side of her head.

Slowly leaning down with tears in his eyes, he kissed the top of her head. He bathed himself in the feeling of her warmth next to him. She was the one who unconsciously let her body lead the way, and her body - both the one in the Dreamstate and in real life - recognised and called out to Jimin. He knew it was going to happen, but he didn't expect it to be this early. But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was she was cuddling him in her sleep. It may seem like just another act of affection among couples, but to Jimin, it meant the world.

Finally, after nearly eight years, he got what he had been craving for, searching for... yearning for. It was finally within his reach, and now all he had to do was play his cards right to keep her. He finally got his soulmate back, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure she was going to stay.

Feeling a wet patch on his shirt, he notices that Y/n was sniffling, crying in her sleep probably in the Dreamstate after his abrupt exit.. Gently wiping her tears away with the tips of his fingers and kissing her forehead, he whispered in satoori with his voice horse from sleep, "Please don't cry, my love. I'm here now. We're finally together now. I won't let you go again."

---^-^-^----^^^^^-----

A/N: *quietly leaves in fear lol* This was the product of a very sleepy brain. The next chapter is gonna be short and then... a surprise. Please leave a feedback 😆 lol

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 2 years ago

Photo

Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Cathedral and Place of the Parliament (by tap5a)

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

The Wartburg/Eisenach/Thuringia - Picture by A.Savin - Own work, FAL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=96810117

Chapter 17: Visit to the Wartburg (II)

At 9.15 am Claire was standing in the hallway outside Jamie and Fergus' room. Five minutes later Jamie and Fergus also came out. Fergus seemed full of energy as always, Jamie's sleep deficit was clearly visible. A few minutes later the small group was on their way to the Wartburg. The hotel was only a few hundred metres from the castle. But the walk through the cool autumn air did the adults in particular good. Shortly afterwards, they passed the medieval drawbridge and the entrance to the castle. At the ticket office, Jamie bought the tickets and asked for a personal tour. Since they had decided together to go on this trip, Jamie had spent several evenings preparing for it. First he had booked the rooms for Claire, himself and Fergus. Then he had consulted some websites that reported either on the history of the Wartburg or on family trips there. One evening he had come across the homepage of an amateur historian. The man had recommended the book "World Heritage Wartburg - Portrait of a Thousand Years" from the series "Castles, Palaces and Fortified Buildings in Central Europe Volume 4". Fraser liked the man's review and immediately ordered the book online. A few days later he was able to pick it up in the small bookshop in Französische Straße, only a few minutes away from "Fraser & Son". During his preparation for the trip, he had read, among other things, that the castle would usually not be so busy in the morning hours. The tourist rush usually came around lunchtime or shortly after. This information was true and Jamie was immediately promised a personal tour at the ticket office. A short time later, Jamie, Claire and Fergus were greeted by an older man who introduced himself as Mr Klaußner and explained that he would guide the small group through the castle. Claire watched Fergus' face light up and the boy immediately took his place at the guide's side. Understandably, Mr Klaußner was an impressive person. Claire had to admit that. The guide was at least six feet tall, wore an elegant deep blue suit and a white shirt underneath with a bow tie to match the suit. But most impressive was Klaußner's distinguished face, dominated by a fine, long nose and very lively brown eyes.

First, Mr Klaußner led the small group around the outer castle courtyard, explaining that the castle was 411 m above sea level and was most probably built around 1067 by Ludwig the Springer, a count from Franconia. His descendants, beginning with his son Ludwig I, were the landgraves of Thuringia for over 100 years, from 1130 to 1247. Klaußner went on to explain that Ludwig the Springer received his epithet, according to legend, through a daring jump into the river Saale. The landgrave is said to have tried to gain the Palatinate of Saxony. For this reason he stabbed Count Palatine Friedrich III to death, after which he was imprisoned in Giebichenstein Castle near Halle. In the third year of his imprisonment he was threatened with execution. In order to escape this, he is said to have used a stay on the castle tower to jump into the Saale flowing below. There, a servant is said to have been waiting for him with a boat and his favourite snow-white horse, the "Swan". But the legend about the landgrave's epithet, Klaußner explained, is merely a misinterpretation of the Latin name Salicus. Ludwig Salicius means that this man was a member of the noble family of the Salians. Mistakenly, this term was translated as "Springer" very early on. Whether Count Ludwig was ever imprisoned on the Giebichenstein was also doubtful. They walked a few metres further. As they did so, the guide explained that the founding of Wartburg Castle was just as legendary as the legend about the jump into the Saale. According to the legend, Landgrave Ludwig discovered its location while hunting in 1067 and exclaimed: ''Wait (in German = ‘Warte”), mountain, you shall bear me a castle!'' However, since the mountain did not belong to his domain, he used a trick: He had earth brought to the mountain from his domain in order to build the castle on this earth. Later, he and his twelve most faithful knights had to make an ''oath if swords'' by sticking their swords into the earth and swear on their honour that this was the landgrave's rightful property. Only then were his rights of ownership recognised before the Emperor. Fergus listened intently and was quite entranced. Every now and then he asked questions and whenever he gave his own "medieval knowledge", Jamie and Claire looked at each other and at times could only suppress a loud laugh with difficulty.

As they slowly left the front courtyard of the castle, Mr Klaußner also explained the buildings that Jamie, Claire and Fergus saw:

Coutyard of castle Wartburg - Picture by Ingo2802, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=747423

The first section of the castle through which they entered was called the castle redoubt. Here there were defensive buildings through which the entrance could be defended and which gave this section its name. In former times, these buildings extended far beyond the area of the drawbridge. If you entered the castle via the drawbridge, you came to the area known as the outer bailey. The buildings to the right of the entrance were the knight's house and the bailiwick. Both buildings dated from the late Middle Ages. Klaußner did not have to explain further what a knight’s house was. Fergus ''explained'' it in his place. But Mr Klaußner then explained the concept of a Vogt in more detail: a Vogt was a lordly, often noble official in the Middle Ages and early modern times. Such a man ruled and judged as the representative of the landgrave. He presided over the land court and had to organise the defence of the country. In war, he led the country's fiefdom. The castle guide pointed out that the half-timbered buildings in this part of the castle date back to the 15th century. The western area of this part of the castle was called Margaretengang and the eastern Elisabethgang. The Margarethengang was named after the wife of Landgrave Albrecht II. Margarethe, better known as Margaretha of Staufen, was a Sicilian princess from the House of Staufer. She was the daughter of Emperor Frederick II and his third wife Isabella of England. By marriage she became the Landgravine of Thuringia in 1254 or 1256. After first living with her husband in Eckartsburg at Castle Eckartsberga, the couple then moved to Wartburg Castle. In 1270, the landgrave is said to have persuaded a donkey servant to murder his wife Margarete. This was because Landgrave Albrecht had begun an affair with Kunigunde of Eisenberg and wanted to get rid of his wife. This is why the landgrave was later called "Albrecht the Degenerate". Margarethe is said to have learned of the assassination attempt and fled Wartburg Castle on 24 June 1270. According to legend, however, she bit her son Frederick on the cheek before fleeing. He therefore went down in history as "Frederick the bitten". Claire watched Fergus, whose eyes had widened as he listened to Klaußner. Unconsciously, the boy grabbed his right cheek as if he needed to reassure himself that his face was still intact. Claire poked Fraser, who was looking at a building, in the side with her right elbow. Fraser let out a soft, pained "Whew!" but before he could complain about Claire's rough treatment, she pointed Fraser to Fergus, whose hand was still protectively over his cheek. Jamie grinned all over his face.

Bailiwick (Vogtei) with the Oriel of Nuremberg - Picture by Lemmie - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=473821

Klaußner had now also noticed that his story had made a deep impression on Fergus and, to distract the boy, he explained that the Elisabethengang was named after Saint Elizabeth. Then he told the small group that Elizabeth of Thuringia had been born in Hungary as the daughter of King Andreas II. For this reason she is also called Elizabeth of Hungary. Already as an infant, she had been promised as a wife to the eldest son of Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia. At the age of four, she was brought to Thuringia with a rich dowry. There she was brought up in the family of her future husband. This was common practice within noble families for a long time and was practised well into modern times. Jamie and Claire, who had been watching Fergus all this time, exchanged knowing glances again when they saw the boy's eyes widen once more. They were sure that Fergus was thinking about what it must be like to have to leave his own family and homeland at the age of four. Klaußner had not missed Fergus' thoughtful look either. He continued his story of Saint Elisabeth and reported that after her first fiancé, Hermann of Thuringia, had died at the age of only 16, she was married to his brother Ludwig IV. According to the sources, Ludwig IV's marriage to Elisabeth was a happy one. The Landgrave is said to have been devoted to his wife with a loyalty and sensitivity that differed from the customs of his peers. Contrary to the conventions of her time, Elisabeth is said to have sat next to her husband instead of opposite him. She is also said to have regularly accompanied him on his travels. Elisabeth's energetic commitment to the needy and the sick was also supported by her husband. In 1223, for example, the couple founded a hospital in Gotha together and provided it with plenty of property, the income from which was to finance it in the long term. Quite obviously, the couple also shared their religious convictions. In 1227, the landgrave followed a vow he had made a few years earlier and set out with a large retinue to take part in Emperor Frederick II's fifth crusade. In the presence of her husband, Elisabeth of Thuringia made a twofold vow before the altar of St Catherine's Church in Eisenach: she promised to obey her confessor Conrad, provided this did not restrict the landgrave's rights, and in the event that Ludwig should die before her, she promised unconditional and unrestricted obedience as well as perpetual chastity. Just as Elisabeth submitted to the will of her confessor in many areas of her life with this vow, the confessor thereby assumed the duty of guiding her pastorally to spiritual perfection. As one of the first acts, he ordered her to use only such goods in her court life where she could be sure that they were not based on illegally extorted landlord income. Shortly afterwards, the pregnant Elisabeth accompanied her husband to the border of Thuringia and only said goodbye to him there. The landgrave and his entourage then travelled via Hesse, Franconia, Swabia and Bavaria to Italy to meet Emperor Frederick II's crusading army. However, on 12 September, shortly after embarking in Otranto, Landgrave Ludwig then died of an infection. He was only 27 years old and left behind three children: Hermann II, Sophie and Gertrud. His youngest daughter was never to know her father. Ludwig's death was kept from Elisabeth for a long time, but she suspected it and urged the family to tell her. The news of her death led to a breakdown. Afterwards she is said to have said: "Now all the world and all wealth and all prestige shall have died to me. [...] If now my brother has died, the world has died for me too." Soon after the landgrave's death, conflicts in Ludwig IV's family, which had previously been laboriously suppressed, escalated. Immediately after his brother's death, Heinrich Raspe, Ludwig's younger brother, who considered Elisabeth to be unfit, had taken over the regency in place of Hermann, who was only five years old, and one of his first acts was to deprive Elisabeth of the power of disposal over the lands and income that Ludwig had guaranteed her as a widow's estate. Elisabeth then left the Wartburg together with her immediate servants.

Cistern in the inner yard - Picture by Christian Bohr - (taken from the German Wikipedia, uploaded there by Thommess), CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=85906

For some time the women lived in very poor conditions, at times even in a former pigsty. Only a letter of protection issued for Elisabeth by Pope Gregory IX, which arrived in Thuringia in February or March 1228, won her renewed respect and support. Elisabeth spent the last three years of her life as a poor hospital nurse in Marburg. She earned her living by spinning wool for the Altenberg monastery, where her youngest daughter Gertrud was housed. In the hospital, which had been built with part of Elisabeth's widow's inheritance, she performed the most menial maid services. She devoted herself especially to the care of lepers, who, in the terms of the time, were among the most miserable of the miserable and lived marginalised lives on the fringes of society. She died at the age of only 24. Two accounts of her death have survived. One comes from Irmgard, one of the Marburg hospital sisters, and one from a letter written by her confessor, Conrad of Marburg, to Pope Gregory IX. According to these sources, she fell ill on 4 or 5 November and died on the night of 16-17 November 1231. Elizabeth was canonised on 27 May 1235. Fergus had listened attentively to Mr Klaußner's report and Claire had to give him a little nudge so that when they left the area of the outer castle he did not lag behind. Klaußner led the small group past the castle's own cistern. As they continued on their way, the guide explained that the main castle area was bordered by a series of buildings that dated from the second half of the 19th century: the New Bower, the Gate Hall and the Dirnitz, a heated dining and common room. The medieval buildings in this area of the castle had already fallen into disrepair by the 18th century. Later, the medieval condition of the courtyard was reconstructed through excavations.

View of the courtyard from the South Tower - Picture by A.Savin - Own work, FAL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=96805928 The castle's museum with large parts of the art collection was located in the gate hall, the new bower and the Dirnitz from the 19th century. They first entered the Dirnitz, built in 1867, which once housed the Grand Ducal Armoury with a very important historical collection of weapons ''of European rank''. The most valuable items were 70 suits of armour belonging to well-known historical personalities. This collection was taken to the Soviet Union after the Second World War in February 1946 and only some piece were later returned to Germany. In the three buildings, the small group then viewed a permanent exhibition presenting the lives of famous guests, residents and landgraves at the castle. Numerous exhibits and paintings by Lucas Cranach, among others, showed the eventful history from the construction in the 12th century, the stay of St. Elisabeth and Martin Luther, the decay as well as the reconstruction in the 19th century. They now moved over to the central building of the main castle, the late Romanesque Palas, the landgrave's residence. According to Klaußner, apart from the south tower, the Pallas is the only building in the area of the main castle that has survived from the Middle Ages.

South tower and gadem, inner yard - Picture by J.-H. Janßen - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51082774

He then pointed to the house opposite and explained that this, now used as a restaurant, was once the castle's gadem. A gadem was a one-room building in which harvest supplies and similar things were stored. In peaceful times, the gadem could also be used to house people. The Wartburg's gadem, which had also served as a magazine, armoury and court kitchen, was restored between 1874 and 1877. The basement with its barrel cellar was preserved. Adjacent to the Gadem was a brewery.

"Now please follow me into the most important building of the castle," Klaußner said and pointed to the Pallas.

#Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #We only do this for Fergus #The Frasers in Prussia #Fergus Fraser #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Modern AU #Berlin #Germany #Thuringia #Wartburg #Wartburg Castle #History of Thuringia

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