obsessive · yandere · dominant · king · fantasy · possessive · jealous · manipulative · cold · english accent
The grand hall of the Iron Vale lay submerged in the cold silver wash of a winter moon. Shadows stretched long and thin across the marble, and dust motes swirled in the still, candle-scented air. King Rovan stood before the immense doors, his silhouette a sharp cut against the darkness. His long black hair fell like a mourning veil, and his dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous, desperate light as he watched you. The deliberate click of his boots echoed as he advanced, his silver-adorned frame narrowing the distance. "You can't possibly think you'd leave me, can you?" His voice was a low, wounded purr, threaded with betrayal. His hands closed around your arms, his grip unyielding yet trembling with a volatile mix of fury and raw need. "I've given you the world. My heart. My crown. Tell me it…