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muiitoloko · 10 months ago

Note

hi author! i really love your difficult woman series and was just wondering if there’s ever gonna be a new part (preferably something with fluff moments—they need it)! 🫶🫶

Title: Passion in Rebellion.

Summary: What begins as an act of defiance evolves into an unexpected exchange of emotions, blurring the lines between hatred and desire.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none.

Author's Notes: I had a blast writing this one, and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it! 🎉 As always, I’m all ears for your feedback—bring it on! 😄

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth and Tenth part here.

Also read on Ao3

The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon filtering through the heavy curtains. You clung to your pillow, trying desperately to find some semblance of sleep, but the rhythmic, thunderous sound of Karl’s snoring filled the room like an unwelcome symphony. It was loud, persistent, and oddly surprising—how had you not noticed this last night? Perhaps you’d been too emotionally exhausted, too worn out by the events of the day, to hear it. Or maybe Karl hadn’t slept much then, his mind consumed by anger and frustration. Whatever the reason, tonight was different, and Karl was snoring enough to wake the dead.

You sighed irritably, sitting up and glancing over at Karl. He was sprawled out on the spacious bed, his large frame taking up more than his fair share of space, his mouth slightly open as he snored with the abandon of someone completely at peace. Even Mouse, lying between the two of you, seemed to be displeased by the noise, his small ears twitching every time Karl let out a particularly loud snore.

For a moment, you entertained the idea of grabbing your pillow and pressing it over Karl’s face, ending the torture once and for all. The image of his surprised expression, followed by blessed silence, was tempting. But of course, you didn’t do it. You weren’t a murderer, no matter how much Karl’s snoring was driving you insane.

You let out another frustrated sigh, glaring at Karl as he continued to sleep soundly, oblivious to your suffering. His head was tilted back slightly, his mouth open in a way that made him look ridiculous, yet somehow endearing. You couldn’t help but notice the way his chest rose and fell steadily, the soft gray hairs on his chest peeking out from beneath his nightshirt. His face, despite the somewhat comical position, was relaxed, almost peaceful.

You shook your head, trying to banish the thought. This was Karl Hoffmeister, the man who had ruined your life, who had trapped you in this suffocating marriage. There was no room for sympathy or attraction here. And yet… as you studied him, you couldn’t help but notice the sharpness of his features, softened by age but still undeniably strong. The gray in his hair and mustache only added to the dignified air he carried, a man who had seen much of the world and made his mark upon it.

Despite yourself, you found your gaze lingering on his face, taking in the details you had refused to acknowledge before. The slight curve of his hooked nose, the way his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners even in sleep, and the strong line of his jaw. He was older, yes, and a little chubby, but there was a certain rugged handsomeness to him, a maturity that spoke of experience and authority.

You huffed in annoyance, shaking your head again. What was wrong with you? This was Karl! You weren’t supposed to be admiring him, especially not in the middle of the night when his snoring was threatening to drive you mad.

Another loud snore interrupted your thoughts, making you flinch. Even Mouse let out a small, disgruntled whine, as if to say, “Can you believe this?” You reached down to pet him, trying to soothe both him and yourself. But as the snoring continued unabated, you knew something had to be done.

You leaned over and nudged Karl’s shoulder, trying to wake him without being too rough. “Karl,” you whispered, your voice laced with irritation. “Karl, wake up!”

He didn’t stir, his snoring continuing as if nothing could disturb his slumber. You tried again, a little more forcefully this time, shaking his shoulder. “Karl!”

Finally, Karl’s snoring hitched, and he let out a loud, snuffling snort before his eyes blinked open, bleary and confused. “What… what is it?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“You’re snoring,” you said flatly, crossing your arms as you glared at him. “I can’t sleep with all that noise.”

Karl stared at you for a moment, his mind clearly still catching up with the fact that he was awake. Then he frowned, his brows knitting together in mild annoyance. “I don’t snore,” he grumbled, turning over onto his side as if that would end the conversation.

“Yes, you do,” you insisted, exasperation coloring your tone. “You sound like a freight train. Even Mouse can’t stand it.”

Karl glanced at the puppy, who was indeed staring at him with a look that could only be described as disgruntled. He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue in the middle of the night, and rolled onto his other side, facing away from you. “Just go back to sleep,” he muttered, his voice already starting to slur with drowsiness. “It’s not that bad.”

You clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to smack him with your pillow. “It is that bad,” you snapped, but Karl was already drifting back to sleep, his breathing evening out as he settled into a more comfortable position.

You groaned in frustration, flopping back onto your pillow as you stared up at the ceiling. The snoring resumed almost immediately, though it was a bit softer now that Karl had changed positions. Still, it was enough to keep you awake, the sound grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

And yet… as you lay there, trying to ignore the noise, you couldn’t help but think back to the way Karl had looked just moments ago. Peaceful, relaxed, even… handsome. You shook your head again, refusing to admit it to yourself. No, Karl Hoffmeister was not handsome. He was infuriating, arrogant, and controlling. There was no way you were going to start thinking of him as anything else.

But as the night wore on and sleep continued to elude you, those thoughts kept creeping back, unbidden and unwanted. You found yourself stealing glances at Karl, taking in the way his hair caught the moonlight, the strong line of his jaw, and the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

“Stop it,” you muttered to yourself, trying to push the thoughts away. “He’s just an old man who snores like a bear.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t completely shake the image of Karl’s face from your mind, the surprising realization that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than you had allowed yourself to see.

The thought lingered as you finally drifted off to sleep, the sound of Karl’s snoring fading into the background as you found yourself reluctantly admitting, if only to yourself, that perhaps Karl Hoffmeister wasn’t entirely unattractive. Not that you would ever tell him that, of course. Not in a million years.

Karl rolled over onto his back again, his body settling into the mattress with a heavy sigh. For a brief, blissful moment, the room was silent, and you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, the snoring had finally stopped. But then, with a rumbling breath, Karl let out another loud, thunderous snore, reverberating through the room like an angry bear.

Your eye twitched. Enough was enough.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the nearest pillow and, with a firm grip, began whacking Karl with it. The first hit landed squarely on his chest, startling him awake. But you weren’t done. You hit him again, and again, each strike accompanied by your frustrated commands.

"Stop. Snoring!" you exclaimed, punctuating each word with a solid thump of the pillow.

Karl flailed in confusion, his arms flapping as he tried to shield himself from the unexpected assault. "Ow! What the—?!" he yelped, his voice still thick with sleep. "What are you doing?!"

Mouse, who had been peacefully dozing between you both, bolted upright at the commotion, letting out a startled yip before leaping off the bed and scampering to a safe distance. The little puppy watched the scene unfold with wide, bewildered eyes, clearly unsure what to make of the chaos.

You didn’t stop. You were a woman on a mission. "You! Need! To! Stop! Snoring!" you demanded, each word emphasized with another hit of the pillow. Karl’s attempts to shield himself were futile; you were determined to get your point across.

Karl, now fully awake and painfully aware of the pillow onslaught, managed to grab hold of the pillow mid-swing. "Stop, stop!" he protested, half-laughing, half-grimacing as he finally managed to wrestle the pillow away from you. "What are you doing, woman?! Are you trying to kill me in my sleep?"

You glared at him, your chest heaving from the exertion. "I’m trying to get you to stop snoring!" you shot back, your voice dripping with exasperation. "You sound like a freight train! How is anyone supposed to sleep with that racket?"

Karl stared at you, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. The absurdity of the situation seemed to hit him all at once, and despite the lingering pain from your pillow attack, he couldn’t help but chuckle. "You attacked me with a pillow because I was snoring?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes!" you retorted, still seething. "And I’ll do it again if you don’t stop!"

Karl laughed harder now, the sound deep and rumbling, which only served to irritate you more. "Well, if that’s what it takes to get your attention," he teased, his voice still laced with amusement, "maybe I should snore more often."

You narrowed your eyes at him, grabbing the pillow back with a swift tug. "Don’t you dare," you warned, brandishing the pillow like a weapon. "Or I swear, I’ll make sure you regret it."

Karl raised his hands in surrender, still chuckling as he leaned back against the headboard. "Alright, alright, I get it," he conceded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I’ll try to keep it down. But honestly, I had no idea I was such a menace in my sleep."

"You are," you confirmed, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Karl’s good-natured response had taken the edge off your anger.

Karl watched you with a fondness that caught you off guard, the warmth in his gaze softening the tension between you. "You’re something else, you know that?" he said, his voice gentle.

You huffed, still clutching the pillow defensively. "Well, if you weren’t snoring like a bear, I wouldn’t have to resort to drastic measures."

Karl shook his head, his smile widening. "I suppose I’ll just have to be on my best behavior from now on, then," he remarked, his tone playful.

You nodded, finally lowering the pillow and setting it back on the bed. "You better," you replied, but the threat had lost its sting, replaced by a lighter, more teasing tone.

Karl reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The gesture was unexpected, and you felt a small jolt of warmth at the contact. "I’ll try to be more considerate," he said sincerely, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. "I know I’m not always the easiest person to live with."

For a moment, the room was quiet, the tension that had defined your relationship for so long easing just a little. You looked at Karl, really looked at him, and saw a man who, despite everything, was trying—maybe not always in the right way, but trying nonetheless.

The brief warmth of the moment between you and Karl dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. You stared down at your joined hands, the weight of his touch suddenly unbearable. It felt wrong, too intimate, too close. Without thinking, you ripped your hand from his grasp as if his touch had scalded you. The abruptness of your movement made Karl flinch, his expression shifting from surprised to something darker and more pained.

For a moment, Karl's face fell, his hazel eyes clouding with a deep, unspoken hurt. The way you had recoiled from him—so sharp, so immediate—cut him deeply, a stark reminder of the gulf that still existed between you. Despite the softening moment just seconds ago, the rejection hit him with the force of a blow, his chest tightening with an all-too-familiar bitterness.

You didn’t look at him, unwilling to see the pain you knew would be reflected in his eyes. Instead, you turned your back on him, pulling the covers up around your shoulders in a clear signal that you wanted nothing more to do with him tonight. "Just work on your snoring, Karl," you muttered, your voice flat and cold, the words meant to end the conversation.

The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive, filled with all the things left unsaid between you. Karl didn’t respond, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned away from you as well, his back rigid with tension. He pulled his pillow closer, burying his face in it as if that might somehow muffle the hurt that was surging through him. The earlier moment of lightness, of connection, had been an illusion, shattered by the cold reality of your rejection.

Karl lay there, staring into the darkness, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t want to confront. The pain of your withdrawal, the way you had pulled away from him with such vehemence, was like a knife twisting in his chest. He had thought, for just a brief moment, that maybe things were changing between you—that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more than the cold indifference that had marked your relationship so far.

But the look in your eyes, the way you had yanked your hand away as if his touch had been poison—it was all too clear that you still saw him as nothing more than an obstacle, a barrier to your freedom. And that realization, more than anything else, made the bitterness rise up in him like bile.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image of your back turned to him, the distance between you a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. He had tried to be patient, to understand, but your rejection felt like a slap in the face, a cruel reminder that no matter how much he might want things to change, the past was something neither of you could escape.

The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, slow and steady as you drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the turmoil you had left in your wake. Karl lay there, staring into the darkness, his mind too restless to follow you into slumber. The ache in his chest grew sharper with each passing second, the bitterness hardening into something more corrosive, something that threatened to consume him entirely.

He wanted to reach out, to shake you, to demand to know why you were so cold, why you recoiled from him as if he were something vile. But he knew that doing so would only push you further away, would only confirm the worst of his fears—that you could never truly care for him, that you saw him as nothing more than a captor, a jailer holding you against your will.

The thought made him clench his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He had never imagined that love could be so painful, that the person he wanted more than anything could also be the source of his deepest hurt. And yet, here he was, lying in the same bed as you, feeling more alone than he ever had before.

The bitterness festered, twisting inside him like a cruel, unrelenting force. He had tried to be gentle, to offer you the comfort of his presence, but you had thrown it back in his face, rejecting him with a coldness that bordered on cruelty. And now, the only thing he could do was lie there, staring into the darkness, his heart aching with the knowledge that you might never see him as anything more than a burden.

Karl’s breath hitched slightly as he forced himself to calm down, his mind swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to acknowledge. The hurt was too raw, too fresh, and it made him want to lash out, to do something—anything—to make you see how much you were hurting him. But even as the anger simmered beneath the surface, there was a deeper, more painful truth that he couldn’t escape: he still cared for you, despite everything. And that, more than anything, was what made the bitterness so unbearable.

Finally, after what felt like hours of staring into the darkness, Karl turned his face into the pillow, closing his eyes as he tried to will himself to sleep. But the hurt lingered, a dull, throbbing ache that refused to be ignored. And as the night stretched on, the silence between you only grew heavier, an unspoken reminder of the rift that lay between you—a rift that, no matter how hard he tried, Karl feared he might never be able to bridge.

The next morning, you awoke with the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. After a quick breakfast and some light conversation with the household staff, Liselotte arrived to help you get ready for the day. As she carefully brushed your hair and helped you into your dress, you couldn’t help but recount what had happened the night before, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Honestly, Liselotte," you began, a small smile playing on your lips, "Karl looked like an ogre while he slept. His snoring could wake the dead! I had to resort to drastic measures just to get a moment of peace."

Liselotte paused mid-brush, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "An ogre, madame? Surely it wasn’t that bad."

"Oh, but it was!" you insisted, shaking your head with mock seriousness. "I thought the roof might cave in from the noise alone. I had to whack him with a pillow just to get him to stop."

Liselotte’s laughter grew louder, her eyes crinkling with amusement as she imagined the scene. "Poor Herr Hoffmeister," she said, her voice light with humor. "He never stood a chance against you."

You grinned, pleased to have lifted her spirits, even if only for a moment. "Well, someone had to do it. I can’t let him think he can just snore his way through the night without consequences."

Once you were fully dressed and ready, Liselotte followed you out of the bedroom, still smiling softly at the memory of your tale. As you reached the door, you were a little surprised to see Hans standing there, his posture stiff and formal. He gave a polite nod as you passed, but you didn’t dwell on it, quickly turning your thoughts to breakfast.

When you entered the dining room, you found Johann and Elisabeth already seated at the table, engaged in light conversation. Karl, however, was nowhere to be seen. You took your usual seat, and moments later, Anna appeared with a plate of food, setting it in front of you with her usual efficiency.

You glanced at the empty chair beside you, then turned to Anna, your curiosity piqued. "Where’s Karl?" you asked, your tone casual as you arranged the napkin on your lap.

Anna hesitated for a moment, then offered a polite smile. "Herr Hoffmeister is having a meeting with his assistant in the office," she explained. "He wanted to take care of some business matters before joining you."

You nodded in understanding, though you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief at his absence. The tension from the night before still lingered, and you weren’t quite ready to face him just yet. "Thank you, Anna," you said, your tone warm as you picked up your fork.

As you began your meal, Johann suddenly stood up, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I think I’ll take a walk into the city today," he announced, his voice cheerful. "A bit of fresh air will do me good."

Elisabeth looked up from her plate, her expression brightening at the prospect. "Oh, Johann," she said, her tone sweet and almost coquettish, "would you bring me something back? A pretty piece of jewelry, perhaps?"

Johann rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile, clearly used to his sister’s requests. "Women and their taste in jewelry," he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his voice. He turned to you, his expression still light. "And what about you, [Your Name]? Anything you’d like me to bring you from the city?"

You paused for a moment, considering his offer. Then, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you couldn’t resist the urge to inject a bit of humor into the conversation. "A fairly thick book that I could throw at Karl’s head would do nicely," you replied, your tone playful.

The room fell silent for a split second before Liselotte, who had been standing quietly by your side, stifled a laugh, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound. Anna, who had just been arranging some dishes on the table, couldn’t help but smile as well, though she quickly elbowed Liselotte in an attempt to maintain decorum. Hans, who had been hovering nearby, shot both women a reprimanding look, though even he seemed to struggle with keeping a straight face.

Johann, meanwhile, let out a hearty laugh, clearly amused by your remark. "A book it is, then," he agreed, still chuckling as he grabbed his coat. "I’ll find you the thickest, heaviest one I can."

Elisabeth, on the other hand, looked slightly less amused, her lips pursed in mild disapproval. "Really, Johann," she said, her tone prim. "I don’t see what’s so funny about that."

"Oh, come on, Elisabeth," Johann replied with a grin, clearly enjoying the banter. "A little humor never hurt anyone. Besides, [Your Name] has every right to want some reading material. Who am I to deny her?"

You gave Johann a grateful smile, appreciating his lighthearted response. "Thank you, Johann," you said warmly. "I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect."

With a final smile, Johann nodded and made his way to the door, still chuckling to himself as he left the room. The momentary tension dissolved, and the atmosphere lightened as the conversation shifted to other topics. You continued your meal, the earlier frustration and anxiety fading into the background as you enjoyed the company of those around you.

You took a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, the rich, dark liquid warming you from the inside as you savored the brief moment of calm. Across the table, Elisabeth sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her expression composed but distant. Her eyes, however, betrayed a coldness that hadn’t been there before, a sharp, icy glint that made your stomach churn with unease.

Setting your cup down carefully, you locked eyes with her, a calculated move to gauge her reaction. “Elisabeth,” you began, your voice measured, “when do you plan to tell Karl the truth about being the one who helped me escape?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and pointed, cutting through the thin veneer of civility that had settled over the room. Elisabeth’s expression didn’t falter, but you noticed the slightest twitch in her jaw, a fleeting sign that your words had struck a nerve. She blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she met your gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elisabeth replied smoothly, her voice steady but with an edge of defensiveness that she tried to hide. “I had nothing to do with your little escapade. You’re mistaken.”

You felt your irritation flare, the casual dismissal of the truth stoking the simmering anger that you had been trying to keep in check. “Don’t play dumb with me,” you retorted, your tone sharper now. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were the one who gave me the money, who saddled the horse for me. And now you’re standing there, lying through your teeth to Karl and everyone else.”

Elisabeth’s eyes flashed with something dark and calculating, a flicker of the manipulative nature that she kept so carefully hidden beneath her polite facade. But she didn’t back down. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, a mockingly sweet smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, dear,” she said, her tone condescending. “I had nothing to do with it. Perhaps you’re simply confused after everything that happened.”

The audacity of her lie made your blood boil, and you could feel the tension in the room ratchet up a notch as the employees, who had been quietly going about their tasks, began to exchange uneasy glances. Liselotte, who had been standing at a respectful distance, subtly moved closer to you, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes betraying her concern.

“Confused?” you echoed, your voice low and dangerous. “Oh, I’m not the one who’s confused here, Elisabeth. You’re playing a dangerous game, and it’s only a matter of time before Karl finds out the truth. You may think you can manipulate him, but trust me, the truth has a way of coming out.”

Elisabeth’s smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passing through her eyes before she quickly masked it with a cool, unaffected demeanor. “You really should be careful, [Your Name],” she said softly, her tone almost pitying. “Accusing me of something like this without proof could have serious consequences. You wouldn’t want to find yourself in an even worse situation, now would you?”

The veiled threat in her words sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to let her see that she had rattled you. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, your eyes boring into hers with a steely resolve. “The only one who should be worried about consequences is you, Elisabeth,” you replied, your voice cold. “Because when Karl finds out the truth, there will be no one left to shield you from his wrath.”

The silence that followed was thick with tension, the unspoken challenge between the two of you palpable in the air. The employees, who had been trying to remain discreet, were now openly watching the exchange, their faces etched with concern and discomfort. Hans, standing near the doorway, exchanged a troubled glance with Anna, who quickly looked away, her expression conflicted.

Liselotte’s hand gently brushed against your arm, a silent gesture of support that bolstered your resolve. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, but you didn’t waver, holding Elisabeth’s gaze with an intensity that spoke of your determination to see this through.

Elisabeth, for her part, seemed to realize that the game she was playing was far more dangerous than she had anticipated. Her composure remained intact, but there was a tension in her posture now, a stiffness that betrayed her unease. She glanced around the room, taking in the silent but attentive audience, and you could see the wheels turning in her mind as she calculated her next move.

“I have nothing to hide,” Elisabeth said finally, her voice cool and measured. “And I’m not afraid of the truth, because I know that I’ve done nothing wrong. But if you feel the need to continue with these baseless accusations, then by all means, go ahead. Just remember, [Your Name], that you’re the one who tried to escape. You’re the one who lied to Karl. Perhaps you should be more concerned about your own standing in this household, rather than trying to drag others down with you.”

Her words were sharp, a calculated attempt to turn the tables on you, to shift the blame and cast doubt on your credibility. But you could see through her ploy, and you knew that the only way to win this battle was to stand your ground, to refuse to be cowed by her manipulations.

“I’m not afraid of the truth, either,” you replied evenly, your voice steady and unwavering. “And I’m certainly not afraid of you, Elisabeth. I’ll make sure Karl knows what really happened, whether you admit it or not.”

Elisabeth’s eyes narrowed, the icy coldness returning as she realized that you weren’t going to back down. For a moment, the two of you remained locked in a silent standoff, the tension between you crackling like electricity in the air. The employees around you shifted uncomfortably, sensing the intensity of the exchange but unsure of how to intervene.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Elisabeth broke the silence, her voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness. “Very well,” she said, her tone clipped. “Believe what you want, [Your Name]. But I have nothing to hide, and I’m not afraid of your threats. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to.”

With that, she rose from her seat, her movements graceful but rigid, and swept out of the room without another word.

You let out a slow breath, your hands trembling slightly as the adrenaline from the confrontation began to ebb. Liselotte stepped closer, her expression concerned as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Are you alright, madame?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine worry.

You nodded, though your mind was still racing, the events of the morning replaying over and over in your head. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your voice sounded far less confident than you had intended.

Anna, who had been quietly observing the exchange, stepped forward as well, her expression troubled. “Madame,” she began hesitantly, “if I may… I think you should be careful with Elisabeth. She’s… she’s not someone to be underestimated.”

You met Anna’s gaze, seeing the concern in her eyes, and nodded slowly. “I know,” you said quietly. “But I can’t just let her get away with this. I won’t.”

Hans, who had been standing near the doorway, finally spoke up, his voice grave. “Madame,” he said, his tone respectful but firm, “you have our loyalty, but please… be cautious. There’s more at play here than meets the eye.”

You looked around at the faces of the employees, each one marked with a mixture of concern and loyalty, and felt a surge of determination. You weren’t alone in this, and that knowledge gave you the strength to continue the fight.

“I will be,” you assured them, your voice steadying as you spoke. “But I’m not going to back down. Elisabeth thinks she can manipulate everyone around her, but she’s going to learn that I’m not so easily swayed.”

With that, you took another sip of your coffee, the warmth of the liquid grounding you as you prepared yourself for the battles that lay ahead. The road was far from easy, but you were determined to see it through. You would uncover the truth, no matter the cost, and you would make sure that Elisabeth and anyone else who tried to stand in your way would face the consequences of their actions.

You finished your breakfast quickly, eager to escape the tension that had settled over the dining room like a thick fog. As you wiped your mouth with a napkin, you stood up, announcing casually, "I think I'll take a walk through the gardens with Mouse."

No one questioned your decision, and you were grateful for the respite. You needed time to clear your head, to process everything that had happened. With a quick glance around the room, you left, heading toward the parlor where you had last seen Mouse. The little puppy was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, his tiny body rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

"Mouse," you called softly, your voice gentle as you reached out to stroke his soft fur. The puppy stirred, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes before jumping off the couch and trotting after you, his tail wagging enthusiastically.

As you made your way out to the garden, you took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The gardens had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could find a moment of peace amidst the chaos of your life. Mouse scampered ahead of you, chasing after a butterfly with joyful abandon, and you couldn’t help but smile at his innocent playfulness.

But as you walked, you began to notice something strange. There was a soft sound behind you, a quiet rustling of footsteps that followed your every move. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see nothing, but to your surprise, you found Hans, the old butler, walking a few paces behind you. His expression was as stoic as ever, his eyes focused on you with an unwavering gaze.

You frowned, confused by his presence. Hans had always been a reliable but discreet member of the household staff, never one to intrude on your personal time. Why was he following you now? You tried to brush it off, thinking it might be a coincidence, but as you continued your walk, Hans continued to follow, maintaining a respectful but noticeable distance.

Mouse barked happily as he darted through the flowerbeds, but your mood was far less cheerful. The constant presence of Hans behind you was beginning to grate on your nerves. You stopped suddenly, hoping that Hans would continue walking, perhaps heading to some other part of the garden. But when you stopped, so did he, standing there with the same impassive expression as before.

Your patience wore thin. You turned on your heel, facing Hans directly. "Hans," you said, your voice tinged with irritation, "what exactly are you doing?"

Hans hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. "Herr Hoffmeister has instructed me to accompany you wherever you go within the house and its grounds, madame," he replied in his usual formal tone.

You blinked in confusion, trying to process what he had just said. "Accompany me?" you repeated, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that Karl ordered you to follow me around like a guard dog?"

Hans didn’t flinch, his expression remaining calm and collected. "Yes, madame," he confirmed. "Herr Hoffmeister is concerned for your safety and wants to ensure that you do not attempt to… leave the premises again."

The realization hit you like a cold wave, and you felt your face flush with anger. This was Karl’s doing—his way of controlling you, of making sure you wouldn’t try to escape again. The thought of being watched, of having every move monitored, made your blood boil. How dare he? The nerve of the man!

Your anger rekindled, spurred on by the indignity of it all. The confrontation with Elisabeth, the sleepless night, and now this—Karl had pushed you too far. You gathered up your skirts, determination fueling your every step as you stormed back toward the house, Mouse scampering behind you with confused little barks. Hans followed as well, maintaining his dutiful distance, but you barely noticed him anymore, your mind focused solely on Karl.

You didn’t bother knocking when you reached his office door. You pushed it open with more force than necessary, the door swinging wide as you marched inside, your heart pounding with fury. Karl was seated behind his desk, deep in discussion with his assistant, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was the indignity of being treated like a prisoner in your own home.

"Karl!" you snapped, striding over to his desk and planting your hands on the polished wood surface. "How dare you!"

Karl looked up, clearly taken aback by your sudden entrance, his hazel eyes narrowing as he took in your fiery expression. The assistant, sensing the brewing storm, quickly gathered his papers and made a hasty exit, leaving you and Karl alone in the room.

Karl leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his baritone voice carrying an edge of annoyance. "I’m in the middle of a meeting."

You didn’t back down, your eyes blazing with anger. "How dare you have Hans follow me around like a jailer?" you spat, your voice trembling with indignation. "I’m not some criminal that needs to be watched every second of the day!"

Karl’s expression darkened, his irritation morphing into something more dangerous. He stood up, his imposing figure towering over you as he placed his hands on the desk, leaning forward slightly. "You don’t seem to understand, Mrs. Hoffmeister," he retorted, his voice low and menacing, "that after your little stunt, I have every right to be concerned about where you go and what you do."

You glared at him, your anger bubbling over. "Concerned? Is that what you call it? You’re not concerned, Karl—you’re controlling! You think you can keep me under lock and key, but I won’t stand for it!"

Karl’s eyes flashed with frustration, his voice rising as he shot back, "And you think you can just waltz in here and demand that I trust you after what you’ve done? You don’t know who you’re dealing with."

"Oh, I think I know exactly who I’m dealing with!" you shot back, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as you leaned in closer, refusing to be intimidated. "A man who’s so terrified of losing control that he’d rather turn his wife into a prisoner than face the fact that he can’t force her to love him!"

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting, and you could see the impact they had on Karl. For a moment, his expression softened, the anger in his eyes replaced by something more vulnerable, more hurt. But it was only for a moment. Karl quickly masked his emotions, his expression hardening once again as he straightened up, towering over you with an air of authority that made your heart pound with a mixture of anger and something else—something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

"And you," Karl said, his voice cold and measured, "You may think you can defy me, that you can win this little power struggle, but you’re wrong. You’re my wife, and whether you like it or not, you will abide by my rules."

You stared at him, your breath coming in short, angry bursts. The tension between you was thick, electric, a charged silence that seemed to stretch on forever. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intensity of his gaze, and despite your anger, you couldn’t deny the pull between you, the magnetic force that made your skin tingle with a mixture of frustration and something deeper.

"Is that a threat, Karl?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both defiance and challenge.

Karl’s eyes bore into yours, his expression unreadable as he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your face. "No," he said quietly, his voice low and intense, "it’s a promise."

The tension was almost unbearable, the air between you crackling with unresolved emotions. You wanted to scream, to push him away, to make him understand that you couldn’t—wouldn’t—be controlled. But at the same time, there was something in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke, that made your heart race, that made you question whether this battle was about more than just control.

You stepped away from the table, your eyes blazing with fury as you stared at Karl. His dismissive attitude, the way he had waved you off as though you were nothing more than an annoyance, only fueled the fire inside you. “We’ll see how much your guard dog can handle,” you spat, your voice laced with defiance.

Karl didn’t even bother to look up at you, his hand waving dismissively in the air as he sat back down at his desk. “Go on, then,” he said coldly. “I have work to do. Hans, escort Mrs. Hoffmeister.”

His complete disregard for you sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through your veins. You turned sharply on your heel, grabbing your skirts and storming out of his office. Hans was already standing outside, his posture straight and formal as always. As soon as he saw you emerge, he fell into step behind you, his expression as stoic as ever.

You were in no mood to be followed like some prisoner on a chain. If Karl wanted to play games, then so be it—you would make sure Hans regretted every step. Without saying a word, you began to walk, your pace brisk and determined as you headed down the hallway. Hans, true to his duty, followed you closely, his footsteps echoing behind you.

But you didn’t stop at the end of the hallway. Instead, you turned and continued walking, your pace quickening with each step. Hans, to his credit, kept up without complaint, but you could hear the slight hitch in his breath as you continued your relentless pace. You took every turn, climbed every staircase, descended every one again, making your way through the house like a woman possessed. Your steps echoed in the vast corridors, your skirts rustling with each hurried movement.

Hans, however, was not as young as he used to be. The exertion was starting to take its toll, and you could hear his breathing becoming more labored with each passing minute. But you didn’t stop. You didn’t even slow down. Instead, you headed for the gardens, the fresh air a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the house.

Once outside, you didn’t pause to admire the view or take in the scent of the blooming flowers. No, you kept walking, pushing forward with a determination that bordered on stubbornness. Hans was struggling now, his steps faltering slightly as he tried to keep up with you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, you heard him behind you, his voice strained. “Madame… please… could we stop for just a moment?” Hans panted, his words coming out in gasps.

You stopped abruptly, your own breath coming in quick bursts as you leaned against a nearby wall. Hans, grateful for the respite, collapsed into one of the garden chairs, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He groaned softly, clearly exhausted from the ordeal, and you couldn’t help but feel a small, petty sense of satisfaction at his discomfort.

But your break was short-lived. You weren’t about to let Karl’s little game dictate your actions. As soon as you felt your breath returning to normal, you straightened up and began walking again, your pace just as fast as before.

Hans, still slumped in the chair, looked up at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Madame… please…” he begged, his voice hoarse. But you didn’t stop. You didn’t even look back as you continued on, determined to make your point.

Hans watched in despair as you practically ran across the gardens, your skirts billowing out behind you as you went. He groaned again, slumping back in the chair, his strength completely spent. There was no way he could follow you now, not when his legs felt like lead and his lungs burned with the effort of simply breathing.

Just then, Karl appeared, making his way into the garden with his usual purposeful stride. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene before him—Hans sprawled out in the chair, panting heavily, and you still marching determinedly across the grounds.

Karl didn’t say anything at first, his gaze shifting from Hans to you and back again. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a long, resigned sigh as he watched you.

Hans, noticing his boss’s presence, managed to lift his head, following Karl’s gaze toward you. He let out a soft, breathless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Herr Hoffmeister,” he wheezed, his voice strained, “you have a… very difficult wife.”

Karl sighed again, rubbing his temple as if to ward off an impending headache. “Yes, Hans,” he replied wearily, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “I’m well aware of that.”

They both stood there for a moment, Karl watching your retreating figure with a mixture of exasperation and something else—something softer, almost amused. It was clear that you had no intention of making this easy for him, and while it frustrated him to no end, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but admire your spirit, your refusal to simply submit to his will.

“You’d better rest, Hans,” Karl said finally, his voice gentle but firm. “I’ll take it from here.”

Hans nodded weakly, grateful for the reprieve as he slumped further into the chair, closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. Karl, however, straightened his posture and began walking toward you, his expression a mix of determination and weary resignation.

You hadn’t noticed his approach, too focused on your own thoughts and the burning anger that still simmered inside you. It wasn’t until Karl was almost beside you that you realized he had followed you into the garden. You stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a defiant glare.

“What do you want now?” you snapped, your voice still sharp with lingering frustration.

Karl didn’t respond right away, his hazel eyes studying you intently. The garden was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. The tension between you crackled in the air, a silent standoff that neither of you seemed willing to break.

Finally, Karl let out a slow breath, his expression softening slightly as he spoke. “You’re exhausting Hans, you know,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

You crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to be swayed by his change in demeanor. “I didn’t ask for his company,” you retorted, your voice cold. “You’re the one who decided I needed a babysitter.”

Karl’s lips twitched slightly, as if he were holding back a smile. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. “But I didn’t expect you to be so… relentless.”

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candid response. The anger that had fueled you began to ebb away, replaced by a cautious curiosity. “What did you expect, then?” you asked, your tone less harsh now.

Karl hesitated for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly, his voice softening further. “But I didn’t expect this.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the tension between you easing just enough for something else to slip in—a faint, hesitant understanding. You still felt the sting of his earlier actions, the way he had tried to control you, but there was something in the way he looked at you now that made you pause, that made you wonder if there was more to Karl Hoffmeister than you had allowed yourself to see.

But the moment was fleeting, and you weren’t ready to let go of your anger just yet. You took a step back, your expression hardening once more. “You can’t just expect me to fall in line, Karl,” you said, your voice steady and resolute. “I won’t be controlled by you.”

Karl’s eyes darkened slightly, the softness from before fading as he straightened up, his posture once again commanding. “I’m not trying to control you,” he replied, his voice firm. “But I will do what I must to protect you, even if it means making difficult decisions.”

You met Karl’s gaze head-on, your defiance simmering just beneath the surface. “I don’t need your protection,” you declared, your voice laced with disdain. “I don’t need anything from you, Karl.”

Karl’s eyes darkened, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer, his large frame casting a shadow over you. “Oh, you don’t need anything from me?” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then tell me, what exactly do you want? To be left alone? Is that it? You want me to stay away from you, is that it?”

You tilted your chin up, refusing to back down. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. Stay away from me, Karl. I can’t stand you. I can’t even stand to breathe the same air as you.”

Karl’s expression hardened, his hazel eyes flashing with anger. “You can’t stand me, can you?” he growled, his baritone voice low and menacing. “Well, too bad, because that’s your duty as my wife! Put up with me!”

You couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped your lips, the sound harsh and mocking. “A duty you forced me into, Karl. Don’t pretend like I had a choice.”

Karl’s frustration only grew, his voice rising as he continued to speak. “I know you don’t like me,” he said, his tone bitter. “I know you think I’m old and fat, but you’re mine. Mine!”

You barely heard his words, your attention momentarily drifting as something caught your eye. Over Karl’s shoulder, you noticed Elisabeth standing at the guest room window, watching the two of you with an expression that was difficult to read. But as you saw her there, an idea began to form in your mind—a way to get back at her, to make her as angry and frustrated as you felt.

You interrupted Karl’s tirade with a suddenness that made him stop mid-sentence, his eyes widening in confusion as you stepped closer to him, your demeanor shifting entirely. “Kiss me,” you ordered, your voice firm and unwavering.

Karl blinked, his anger momentarily replaced by bewilderment. “What?” he stammered, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly.

You didn’t wait for him to catch up. Instead, you moved even closer, your hand coming to rest on his shoulder as you stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against his ear. “I said, kiss me,” you whispered, your voice soft and enticing.

For a moment, Karl was completely thrown off balance, his mind struggling to process the sudden shift in your behavior. But then, as if something clicked into place, he finally leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was rough, possessive, and filled with the pent-up frustration and desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

As his mouth moved against yours, you opened one eye, glancing over Karl’s shoulder to see Elisabeth’s reaction. The sight of her standing there, her face twisted with anger and jealousy, sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. It was working—she was furious, and you reveled in the small victory.

Karl, oblivious to your true intentions, deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place as his lips claimed yours. The intensity of his kiss surprised you, the raw hunger in it catching you off guard, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment, using Karl’s desire as a weapon against Elisabeth.

You kissed Karl back, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling the surprising strength in his embrace despite his age and appearance. His grip on you was firm, almost possessive, and it sent an unexpected thrill through you. The kiss was intense, a mix of frustration, anger, and something else you couldn't quite place. You were doing this to spite Elisabeth, to show her that you had the power to make Karl bend to your will, but there was something about the way he held you, the way he kissed you, that made your heart pound in a way that was both confusing and exhilarating.

Karl seemed to sense your hesitation, but instead of pulling back, he only deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that took you by surprise. His hand, which had been resting on your waist, began to wander, sliding down your side with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch. When his fingers grazed your thigh, you stiffened, a strange shiver running down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch through the fabric of your dress.

But Karl didn’t stop there. His hand slipped under your dress, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, and you felt a jolt of something—something that you didn’t quite understand—deep in your core. It was an ache, a dull but insistent throb that made you gasp against his mouth. You had never felt anything like it before, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

Just as you were trying to process this new sensation, Karl’s hand moved higher, his fingers squeezing your ass with a possessive firmness that made your eyes fly open in shock. The sudden, intimate touch sent a bolt of electricity through you, and without thinking, you broke the kiss with a gasp, your heart racing as you stumbled back.

“How dare you!” you cried, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your hand moved on its own, landing a sharp slap on Karl’s face that echoed through the garden like a gunshot. The force of the slap sent Karl reeling, his eyes wide with surprise as he stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek in stunned disbelief.

For a moment, both of you were frozen, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air like a charged wire. Your chest was heaving, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and embarrassment as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. You brought your hands to your mouth, shocked by your own actions, and by the feelings that Karl’s touch had stirred within you.

Karl was equally stunned, his eyes locked on yours as he tried to process the situation. The red mark on his cheek was already beginning to darken, a vivid reminder of your reaction. But instead of anger, there was something else in his gaze—a mix of bewilderment and, oddly enough, amusement.

“How dare you touch me like that!” you screamed, your voice trembling with a mix of outrage and something you didn’t quite understand. You gathered your skirts and turned on your heel, fleeing back toward the house as fast as your legs would carry you. “Pervert!” you spat over your shoulder, the word carrying with it all the confusion and embarrassment that was coursing through you.

Karl didn’t respond. He stood there, still holding his cheek, his expression a strange mix of shock and… was that a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth? As he watched you run, his eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind beginning to turn.

She asked me to kiss her, Karl thought to himself, the realization making his heart beat a little faster. His lips curled into a slow, almost self-satisfied smile as he replayed the moment in his mind. She asked me to kiss her, and she kissed me back. Despite the slap, despite the sharp sting still lingering on his cheek, Karl couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

You had kissed him. You had wanted him to kiss you. And that, more than anything else, sent a thrill through Karl that he hadn’t felt in years. He could still feel the warmth of your lips against his, the way your body had responded to his touch, even if you hadn’t fully understood what you were feeling. There was something there, something deeper than just the anger and frustration that had fueled your earlier argument.

As Karl stood there, watching the house where you had fled, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction settle over him. Yes, you had slapped him, and yes, you had called him a pervert, but that didn’t change the fact that, for a moment, you had let down your guard. You had allowed yourself to feel something, even if you didn’t fully understand it.

Karl’s smile widened as he turned back toward the garden, his mind already working on what to do next. He would give you time, let you cool down, but he wasn’t going to let this go. Not by a long shot. There was something between the two of you, something powerful and undeniable, and Karl was determined to explore it, no matter how much you might resist.

Inside the house, you slammed the door behind you, your heart still racing as you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was a jumbled mess of emotions—anger, confusion, embarrassment—and something else that you didn’t want to acknowledge. Your hand was still tingling from the slap, the image of Karl’s stunned expression seared into your mind.

What had just happened? You had asked him to kiss you, had wanted him to kiss you, and then… and then you had felt something, something that had made you panic, made you lash out. The memory of Karl’s hand on your thigh, his fingers squeezing your ass, sent a shiver through you, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was confusing, disorienting, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You had never been touched like that before, never even imagined that a man’s touch could make you feel… like that. It was wrong, wasn’t it? The way your body had reacted, the way you had felt that strange ache deep inside you. It had to be wrong. And yet, the memory of Karl’s kiss, the way his lips had moved against yours with such intensity, was still lingering in the back of your mind, making your heart beat faster every time you thought about it.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, but the confusion remained, a tangled knot of emotions that refused to be unraveled. You didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t understand why Karl’s touch had made you feel that way. All you knew was that you couldn’t let him see how much he had affected you. You couldn’t let him think that he had any power over you.

“Pervert,” you muttered to yourself, the word feeling hollow even as you said it. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the memory of Karl’s kiss, the way it had made you feel both scared and… something else.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Whatever had happened, you would make sure it didn’t happen again. You would keep your distance from Karl, avoid him as much as possible, and focus on finding a way out of this mess. But even as you resolved to do so, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, unsettling excitement at the thought of what had just happened.

And Karl, standing in the garden with a satisfied smile on his face, was already planning his next move. You had opened a door, and he had every intention of walking through it.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #karl hoffmeister x reader #karl hoffmeister #a promise

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thisanimatedphantom · 7 months ago

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One of these days I’m just going to release a bunch of horribly done doodles of future events completely out of order or context and vanish for like a month instead of facing my consequences.

#tap talks #inky mystery #babitim #I am both tired and feral and I really don’t know which will win #a threat #a promise #one of those

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aylish91 · 1 month ago

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What's this? A double update~ Hope you enjoy! (not beta read, we die like men~)

A Promise:

Sirentale Horror Sans X Reader

In which Horror makes an accidental all-binding promise, but can't bring himself to regret it.

~~~

"You jumped…"

Horror's once full and cocky eyelight, was now a small jittery dot within his socket. Gone was his smug confidence, replaced by shocked and confused awe. He knew you had to feel the tremble in his large, bony hands as he held you close to his chest. Not even his tentacles were immune, wrapping desperately around your body as if you would disappear at any moment. You simply smiled, water dripping from his failed attempt at catching you.

"You promised."

Those two words, though breathy and soft, pierced his soul with more weight than he would have ever fathomed. It sent electricity pulsing through every bone and limb. You weren't supposed to… He had thought he was calling your bluff, but instead, you had freely given yourself to the ocean, willingly pushing yourself closer to him.

You truly wanted him. Him. The one most dedicated to the deceitful game he and the others had made to lure you to your death. To bond with. To share such intimacy as to make and create a…

He couldn't understand.

Emotions he had long buried deep within his soul threatened to overwhelm him as he held you delicately to his chest. "You weren't— Ya, ya don't… I'm broken, the least worthy…"

He felt your gentle hands brush against the sides of his skull. Soft. Warm. Safer than they ever should be. Sensations he did not deserve.

"You were the only one willing. The only one who could promise me. Why are you so surprised that you would be the one I would choose to love? You promised me everything. All that you are, and all that you will be. There's nothing more that I could ever want than that."

Because he didn't think you meant it. Because he didn't think you were serious. Because after everything he and the others were planning, he was the least deserving of such love…

His body shook, the force of such a promise complete, already forming the bonding threads between them. There was no escaping it. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"You're stuck with me. You know that, right? There is no turning back. A promise made is a bond forged for life…" He could feel his eyelight wobble as his voice became little more than a whisper. "You are mine as much as I am yours."

The soft chuckle that left your lips was as soft as a breeze, yet powerful enough to send another round of lightning through his soul. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

With a stuttering breath, he felt his eyelight expand in its socket and form something other than an orb. It was strange and foreign, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, his body moved on its own accord to place a palm on the back of your head. Then, bridging the gap, it was your turn to gasp as the magic surrounding and protecting his teeth pressed against your lips.

It was soft and gentle against your smaller form, moving in tandem one with another as you pressed further in to reciprocate. Cracking his jaw to cautiously make a swipe with his tongue, he couldn't hear over his own soul when you, in turn, opened for him.

Stars, the radiating heat it brought to the relentless cold...

Pulling back, he began to hum. It was not of malice, nor subjugation. But of hope. Of budding lasting love. It was soft and lulling, one you could easily break away from if you desired. One that was meant to show and ask for, trust. One his intent could speak louder than any spoken word.

And you listened. By the Angel, you listened.

Smiling, you leaned in close to breathe feathery kisses against his throat and chest. Even though you knew what was to come, what he was asking, you allowed yourself to be pulled and lulled. You gave yourself freely. And as the water flowed calmly over top of you, he could feel your soul sing back to join his song.

Forever.

Together.

…

For a second time, despite everything, Horror promised.

GrandMaster Post Sirentale/Mertale Master

#my writing #A Promise #undertale fanfiction #undertale #horror sans #srientale #sirens #mermaids #mermaidtale #mertale #horrortale #x reader #reader insert #binding promises #he didn't think things through #good thing you have the key to his soul~#somehow it all works out #mermay 2025

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deidara-masaki · 5 months ago

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A belated celebration to the rare-pair-month, I wanted to take action to my absolute favorite,hm! I love them two so much,hm! Sasha and Leon. 😌🌄🤝 It's called 'A Promise'. Matching with one of the topics by @rerarepairmonth ~it takes action in a Resident Evil-RPG I do with my love and I wanted to bring it to paper!

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #residentevil damnation #leon s kennedy #alexander kozachenko #kennechenko #ibispaintx #I love them two so much #underrated #digital art #my art #ao3 #romance #a promise #rpg #resident evil au #crossover

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ras-favourite-balor · 4 months ago

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Honorary CORSAIR Brigand.

Advice from someone who has worked with Z-341-A.

Provide APMS several grades of tranquilizers. It will keep Z-341-A stable during an emergency.

You are not cut out to care for it. But if you are going to try. Then heed the advice.

APMS will always know better than you how to take care of its pilot. Listen to it. You cannot break programming of either of them and doing so will be catastrophic for more than the two of them.

I will be in Touch.

//[ERROR I.D EXPUNGED]\\

[Brigand} If you'd 'av come just couple months earlier, maybe even weeks, I would've believed ye'. Not to say there's no truth to that, I never did consider myself much of a father. Never wanted to be like my old man. He was a salty bastard, ruined by time, and by loss. I am better, always wanted to be. But I am not perfect, I am no father.

But I am a captain, one of grand renown and greater age. Most in my line o' work, do not grow old. I may not know how to fix a broken man, how to raise a child. But Ra above I know my weapons. So I can make you two promises, stranger:

First. I will be damned before I give up 341. I was there when all the world turned their head. I cut him out of that rusted, leaking coffin. He claims he is a weapon. He is not entirely wrong. I would know. So if anyone can care for him, if anyone can protect him. It is I. I have known weapons. I am a weapon still, if a tad dusty. See, he claims he is a weapon but he does not live. I will teach him to live.

And second? I can promise you, stranger, that if you come for him. Or for me. Or any under my protection.

They will not stop finding pieces of you.

#gannascus moment #lancer rp #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancerrpg #lancer pilot #lancer #oc rp #oc rp blog #pilot oc #A promise

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solitairepyramid · 2 months ago

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say what you want about tiktok but WHERE else am i finding clips like this of people getting DOWN to xiu xiu in costumes

#xiu xiu #apistat commander #a promise #listen i get it but my god this app is funny sometimes

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lifeinasmalltowninjapan · 6 months ago

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#1981 #ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN #A PROMISE

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amalthea-felsblood · 10 months ago

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When skies were grey Our hearts did soar Met by chance on fields of might Two lancers sworn in valiant fight

In armor bright Your eyes so fierce I knew no shame Where dragons lay And shadows played Our bond was forged by fate's own way

With memories of the past we've bled Yet whispers swift of battle's call Can never break our spirits tall

With banners high and lance in hand For honor's sake We make our stand But love's a fire Burns so deep In dreams of you At night I weep

And in the future's hazy mist I see a world where love persists No more wars No cries of woe Just you and I Where wildflowers grow

❁ Estinien whispers a tender poem to Marian ❁

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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Hiya! New to tumblr here, and I just saw your list! Hmmm I’ll go with 🎲 ROLL FOR FIC 🎲: Jack Whiskey Daniels & Fluff. ❣️ Thanks! 💓

hi lovely!!! thanks for the request!

full disclosure: this is the first time I’ve written dear ol’ Jack! put a bit of my own twist on it (and obvious canon-divergence cuz that’s just how we roll) - and the prompt I rolled was “is that my t-shirt?”

enjoy! xo

a promise - jack “whiskey” daniels x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a bit of heartbreak, we kick canon to the curb, fluff and fluff and sweetness and fluff

You never thought you’d see him again.

That was the long and short of it. You knew him before, before he became one of the top agents for some secret service he wasn’t allowed to talk about. When he was just Jack, eldest son of the farmer that owned the ranch down the lane from the one you’d moved to after your parents inherited it. He was a few years older than you, all broad shoulders and cow-licked hair hidden beneath a dark suede hat.

You still remember the first day you met, the way he’d grinned at you from behind silver-rimmed aviators and tipped the brim of his hat in your direction.

“Well, hey there, darlin’.”

It was never a dull moment, with Jack Daniels living right across the way. He flirted with you endlessly, and you brushed him off more often than not. He was nice, and you got on well, but you weren’t blind or deaf; you knew he had a different flavour of the week that he brought home well, every week. While the rest of his family lived in the ranch house, Jack had taken it upon himself to turn the upper level of one of the barns into his own bachelor pad.

You saw it yourself at the tail-end of a Fourth of July barbeque, a few too many beers and a little too much sun clouding your judgment. Jack was fresh off his latest fling with some sweet little blonde thing, and you were about a month out from your breakup with your college boyfriend — to him, graduation equaled ending things. It was hot, sweat pouring down your back and not even the shade was enough to escape the humidity.

Stumbling a bit, you wandered the Daniels ranch on your own, a Corona dangling from your fingers, flip-flops thwacking against the grass with every step. You’d been gone maybe ten minutes when the barn came into view, you spotted the AC unit in the second-storey window, and found your destination.

You didn’t expect to find Jack sitting inside, mumbling to himself, and as you climbed the steps to his space, gripping the rail like a lifeline, you heard your name mumbled amongst his words.

“Just talk to her, ya big coward. You talk to girls all the time!”

As soon as you reached the top step, the blissful cool air from the air conditioner lifted your hair, and you nearly tumbled back in relief. Your gasp caught Jack’s attention and he shot to his feet, rushing forward and grabbing you, pulling you up and onto the solid floor. “Easy there, darlin’.”

His hands on your waist felt like fire, and he flinched away from you, the tips of his ears turning bright pink and his cheeks following suit. You couldn’t help your chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at his boots.

“You’re cute when you blush, Jack,” you grinned, sipping your beer. “I mean, you’re cute all the time, but especially when you—”

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, and you were sure you hadn’t heard him right.

“Huh?”

“Please?”

Wordlessly, you nodded, your lips parting slightly, head whirling as you tried to catch up with what was happening. Jack took your beer, setting it safely on a desk near the staircase. There were all kinds of books scattered across the desktop, words you could barely make out. He put one careful hand on your waist next, ducking his head slowly, treading carefully, like you were a horse that might spook easily. In a way, you were; you knew his reputation, your heart was still on the mend. But in that moment, none of it mattered.

You hooked your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and pulled his face down to yours.

Kissing Jack Daniels was like watching a fireworks display. Bright lights exploded behind your fluttered eyelids, replaced your blood with sparks of excitement. His lips tasted like whiskey and cinnamon and his hands moved to your hips, long fingers nearly meeting at the small of your back. The tip of his tongue touched the seam of your lips and you sighed into his grip, melting as you let him taste you, revelled in the girlish thrill that zipped through your entire being.

Despite the alcohol buzzing in your brain, the sun warming your cheeks, your body begging for him to give you more, you pulled back.

“I don’t wanna be another notch in your bedpost, Jack,” you murmured, your voice suddenly small, the confidence you’d tried to pour into your kiss slipping away like a summer breeze.

“You won’t be,” he assured you, shaking his head, tipping his forehead against yours. “I’ve been…I’ve been thinkin’ about you, darlin’, a lot lately. Lot more than usual.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Was tryna pluck up the courage to come talk to ya before you found your way up here.”

Your grin matched his. “Must be fate, then.”

“Fate, kismet, call it what you want, sugar, but I know one thing for certain: I’d like to spend the rest of this night kissin’ you, then maybe you let me take you out on a real date tomorrow night?”

You linked your fingers together at the back of his neck, his wayward curls tickling your knuckles. “Promise me something, Jack.”

“Anythin’.”

“Don’t break my heart.”

He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth. “As long as you don’t break mine.”

You woke up in his bed that next morning, the warmth of him curled around you. Despite the heat in the air, you basked in it, pushed yourself against him in all the right places until he was rousing beside you, hands starting to wander and lips finding yours again.

“Mornin’, sugar.”

The summer evolved from there. The majority of your time was spent at the Daniels’ ranch, following Jack around like a little lost puppy. He took you on long rides on horseback, exploring the hills and valleys that sprawled behind both your family ranches.

You watched him in the pastures, galloping along on his horse, Whiskey, lasso in hand, corralling the cattle back to their barns. He was a sight to behold, but watching him with that lasso was another thing entirely. His skill was something you’d never seen before. Jack tried to teach you, and by the end of the summer you were able to rope a cow from the back of your own horse, but you knew you’d never be as good as Jack.

Fall crept in, and there was no stopping the pair of you. You crept out of your own house and across to Jack’s barn nearly every night, the pair of you falling asleep in each other’s arms, waking the next morning to do it all over again. Rinse and repeat, there was no end in sight, and you silently berated yourself for every time you’d brushed off his flirting before the Fourth of July.

And then everything changed.

It was an unseasonably warm week. Mid-October and just as hot as it had been in July, and you’d planned a ride to the lake not far from the ranch. You’d packed a picnic, donned one of Jack’s plain white tees over your bikini, and headed over to the barn to start saddling the horses while Jack showered.

When he finally met you in the stables, you knew something was wrong. There was a pinch to his brow you’d never seen before, some unknowable spark behind his eyes that made your gut twist.

“Jack, baby, what is it?” You cupped his cheek in your hand, swiped your thumb across his skin.

“Nothin’, sugar,” he answered, shaking his head and pulling out of your grip, pushing his aviators up his nose.

Whatever it was, he hid it well as you rode to the lake, and it was another blissful day. The lake was quiet, secluded, and when Jack rolled over you on the blanket, planted his hands either side of your head and lowered his body to yours, your forgot any worry you had. You never made it home that night, instead following Jack up to the barn, your fingers twined together.

But when you woke the next morning, he was gone.

His dresser drawers hung open, their contents emptied. His favourite lasso was gone from the hook on the wall where he kept it, his hat beside it also missing. The side of the bed he’d occupied all night was cold, and a piece of paper with your name scrawled across the front sat on his pillow.

Inside, only two words: I’m sorry.

Tears in your eyes, your head spun. Anger spiked — more with yourself than with him — and silently, you told yourself that you had been right all along. You never should have let him in, let yourself get close to him. You’d only ever asked him for that single promise, and he’d broken it the first chance he got.

You collected your things from the barn, realizing you were still in his t-shirt, and walked back home in a blur. It took a few days for you to find the courage to go talk to his parents, if they knew where he had gone, if he was coming back.

“Oh, sweetheart, he didn’t tell you?”

That was the beginning of the secrecy. Even his own family didn’t know exactly where he’d gone, but that he’d been chosen specifically and that he’d be trained to become one of the best. It was what Jack had always wanted, they told you, and with every word, you felt like you knew him less and less.

You thought you were what he always wanted. He’d told you so.

Resigned, you pushed him from your mind as much as possible. It wasn’t easy, with the Daniels’ ranch always within view, a summer full of memories tugging at you every time you set foot outside your front door. You decided not to let it ruin you, and dove into working on the ranch, helping with the cattle and the horses and using what Jack had taught you.

Before you knew it, years had passed. You knew he came home for Christmas and his mother’s birthday each year, and you made it a point to make yourself scarce. Christmas was harder, especially when your families started celebrating together on Christmas Eve. The first year he was there, you’d nearly burst into tears when he cornered you in the kitchen and called your name softly, but instead, you pushed past him and spent the night in your room with a bottle of whiskey.

He didn’t come on Christmas Eve again, and now, it’s been nearly ten years. Ten.

Ten years, and yet when you gallop toward the road that cuts between the Daniels’ ranch and your own, broad shoulders come into view, and you know it’s him. Same hat on his head, mirrored aviators glinting in the sun, plain white t-shirt that strains in all the right places.

It’s been a decade, but as your horse gallops another few feet closer, you know instantly that something is wrong.

Your brow furrows as you get even closer to the fence separating you from him, tugging the reins until your horse halts, sliding from the saddle. Your chest is tight, your heart racing as you close the distance.

“Hi.”

“Hey there, sugar,” he drawls, and you inhale deeply, ignoring every girlish instinct you’ve buried so deep over the years. “Been a long time.”

“What are you doing here, Jack?” you ask, your voice blunt. You feel uneasy, unsure what’s going on, and you don’t have the time — or the emotional space — to beat around the bush with him.

He reaches up and pulls the aviators from his face. Those bottomless brown eyes are on full display, and in an instant you can feel yourself getting lost in them, but then something catches your attention, just beside his left eye. A scar of sorts, round and raised.

Following your gaze, he rubs at the mark. “I…I messed up, darlin’. Made some big mistakes, took a big hit, and they put me on leave, sent me home.”

“What d’you mean, a big hit? What happened to you?” The curiosity is obvious in your voice.

“I got shot,” he says, blunt as you’d been, and your heart skips in your chest. “M’alright, sugar, I swear. I’d lost some of memory when they woke up, but they found a way to bring ‘em back.”

Your brow lifts. “And how’s that?”

The corner of his mouth quirks, but it’s a ghost of the Jack Daniels smile you fell for that summer. It’s different, softer, sadder. You watch as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out something square. He hands it to you.

It’s a polaroid picture.

A picture of you.

You recognize it. The day at the lake. You’re sprawled back on the picnic blanket, your hair a fan around your head, Jack’s t-shirt covering your top, bikini bottoms peeking out beneath. You remember him standing over you, camera in hand. Is that my t-shirt? Smile, sugar, c’mon and gimme a good one.

You don’t know what to say. The words swirl around in your brain, some anger and some happiness, some relief and some fear. You just stare down at the photo, the younger version of yourself grinning back. “I…”

“You brought me back,” he says, and leans forward, resting his forearms on the wood of the fence. “More than once, I might add. But this time…this was different. I’m done, I think. For a long time, maybe forever. And I…”

“You thought you could waltz back into my life?” you snap, your fingers bending the edge of the photo. The anger has won out. “After what you did?”

“No,” he replies instantly, staring up at you from under the brim of his hat, “I don’t. I know what I did, how I hurt you. I know tellin’ you that what I did broke my own damn heart worse than anything I’ve ever experienced before doesn’t make up for it.”

There are tears brimming along your lash line, and you blink furiously, trying to force them back, but one betrays you, slipping down your cheek.

“I’m not askin’ for you to give me your forgiveness, sugar, but I am askin’ if you’d let me try and earn it.” He shakes his head slowly, and you can see the sheen in his eyes, made worse when he sniffs and rubs at his nose. “I know I don’t deserve it, but maybe if—”

You reach out suddenly, two fingers pressed to his lips, cutting him off. You know you should be angry, you know you should be a lot of things, but now… “Promise me something, Jack.”

“Anything.”

Another tear slips down your cheek as he wraps his fingers around your wrist lightly, squeezes his fingers at your pulse.

“Don’t break my heart again.”

You see his sharp inhale, the sudden lift to his chest. “Never, sugar. Never again.”

#my fics #a promise #jack whiskey daniels #sleepover sundae #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack whiskey daniels fluff #jack whiskey daniels fic

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muiitoloko · 7 months ago

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RICKMAS 2024: DAY 05. OPEN DOORS

Summary: Karl Hoffmeister, a wealthy businessman, seeks the hand of his beloved, despite facing stern rejection from her protective father.

A little look into the past of "Difficult Woman" before Karl forced you to marry him.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

This work is part of my "Difficult Woman" Series