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bunny-yan · 1 month

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so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?

He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting. TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI

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You’d gotten your hopes up.

It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage, you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king.

He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king.

Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.

Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it.

The king’s marriage.

When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.

The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.

You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.

But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like.

Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face.

You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom.

“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had.

He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”

You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour.

He said nothing.

You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap.

This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof.

“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like.

“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”

The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter.

Hopefully, he didn’t take offense.

You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these.

“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession.

You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass.

You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.

Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry.

It was little things at first.

Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you.

He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right?

Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you.

“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you.

You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were.

Hope.

A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then.

If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak.

“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”

His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water.

You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements.

“How arrogant,” you said simply.

He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could.

“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”

You wanted to laugh.

Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly.

It was hard to hear coming from the culprit.

“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”

Dread pinched your stomach.

“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out.

“Your Highness-”

“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”

You felt nauseous.

“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.”

This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”

“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment.

Not that he really cared in the first place.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yan!idris #yandere king

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shrimparts-blog1890 · 4 months

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I will not elaborate ✨️

#darling charming #dappling #darlapple #ever after high fanart #ever after high #idecided to redesign her outfit a little #send me asks #ask me anything #y all can send in requests too i might draw them 😉#this is a small portion of what i have in mind 🫣🍎

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zipora666 · 3 months

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Sorry @cloudy-dreams..but I had to... (I had this in my head for 2 months and I’m surprised you didn’t do it yet-)

...I just..had to...

(plus I never thought I’ll do some funny art but I did! :D silly wally is a puppet they can’t shower ig? So he was confused 🤷‍♂️)

Plus still try to choose what new eye style for wally lol

#my art #welcome home #fanart #art #welcome home au #wally darling #fan art #wally darling x y/n #borrower wally au #ask #Tom and jerry meme

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chez-cinnamon · 4 months

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So I was talking to some friends on Discord and we were discussing how some movies had cartoon characters with this white guy driving car scene.

I'm just stuck thinking about Fionn and the Welcome Home cast crammed into a car having this same exact moment and it's cracking me up xD

It definitely starts out that way LMAO

#welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home oc #real world au #chezzy ocs fionn #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #howdy pillar #sally starlet #poppy partridge #FINALLY got round to drawing out this ask #I'm sorry it's an old ask but I had to get round to it eventually!!!!!#I need to get to all my asks anyways....#I miss these idiots so much the found family ever <3

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darling-zorua · 1 year

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<<<000>>>

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clownsuu · 11 months

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Just a casual night smhhh

#Been posting too much serious stuff I need some more g o o f #Welcome home #welcome home mob au #welcome home howdy #welcome home wally #welcome home frank #welcome home barnaby #welcome Home julie #howdy pillar #wally darling #Frank frankly #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #wallypillar #howdydarling #I was messing around with mob howdy Ai earlier and I asked what his full name was and he said “Howdy Darling”#mob Wally and howdy married confirmed??? 🤨🥄🥄

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nonomives · 1 year

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Sorry ive been dead for a while. Heres a lil comic (???) to help distract you from my absence

So... ykno how all of the other neighbors use past tense in their bios except Wally and Home?

Well I had this little thought that when there's not much else to do, Wally would often stand outside Home and wait for his friends. Just there, waiting for them to come around dragging him into whatever silly schemes they have for the day. His own little way of reminiscing about the old times. Or maybe even hoping theyre not completely gone. A habit that gives him something to do at the moment. Something that keeps him grounded while his mind unfurls on itself from the loneliness

Also hot take: Home isn't evil, just really overprotective of Wally since they only got each other left now

#also to the one guy that asked me to draw wally with their hair down under the rain #here ya go lol #i kinda rushed a bit at the end but ykno--#eh--#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #welcome home wally #wally darling #digital art #eeart #my art

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starleska · 1 year

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If you're still taking writing requests, could you do possessive Wally headcanons?

*cracks knuckles* oh anon, i most certainly can 😈 yandere!Wally fans (me too 😳), this one's for you! (this is less headcanons and more a oneshot... kinda wanna write the whole thing 🙈)

content warnings for possessive behaviour, manipulation, threats, arson, entrapment and kidnapping!

Possessive/Yandere!Wally Darling x Reader headcanons

👁 it all started so well. Wally was a Darling both in name and behaviour, and you fell hard and fast. such an attentive sweetheart, from the moment you moved into the neighbourhood it was as if he were always at your side. anywhere else, you may have been unnerved, but Wally's simple warmth and easy smile dispelled all of your doubts. while you tried to spread your time equally between your kind new neighbours, you somehow always found yourself in Wally's presence, talking to him for hours.

👁 in time, you found yourself becoming bolder. you start returning Wally's curious glances, and soon allow your eyes to linger a touch longer than they should. curiously (and with a little bit of a thrill), you notice that Wally seems incapable of breaking eye contact - no matter how long you stare, he'll always stare right back, unperturbed.

👁 one day, you find yourself closer to Wally than usual. you're half-pressed against one another on your sofa, Wally's cheek nestled in the crook of your shoulder. he's drawing something in his sketchbook: an indistinct, wobbly shape that you can't make heads or tails of. while Wally's right hand scribbles furiously with his pencil, the fingers of his unoccupied left hand spill at your side, reflexively clenching every now and again with the automatic motions of his drawing.

👁 the closeness imbues you with a newfound confidence. you take a breath, steady yourself...and reach across, brushing your fingers lightly across Wally's own. Wally's eyes snap towards you. for a moment, his pupils blow so wide you think they might just swallow you.

👁 the next day, your house catches fire. such an incident is unheard of in this neighbourhood, and all your neighbours are horrified for you. however, Wally is strangely calm. "I'm sorry you lost so much," he says, still smiling. "Would you like to live with me?"

👁 you're shaken - but accept Wally's offer. the shock of the fire takes a few days to wear off, but nothing could be more unsettling than living in close quarters with Wally Darling. existing within the living, breathing (creaking? squeaking) walls of his Home has an atypical effect on the puppet. Wally's voice is lower, and he moves with more purpose, as if he and Home are one and the same: symbiotic entities which exist in tandem with one another.

👁 to add to your creeping sense of dread, Wally flips the script on your personal space. now he is the one letting his fingers slip easily around your waist, and fixing you with uncomfortable, impossible-to-ignore stares. you try to laugh off his behaviour, questioning him openly if he enjoys having you as a guest so much. for once, Wally doesn't smile when he replies, "I love you living with me."

👁 it isn't until a week has passed that you learn all the doors are locked, and Wally never gave you a key. you try wrestling with the door handle, but it doesn't budge. then you try the windows, but they're sealed shut. 'I'm not trapped!' you think to yourself. 'Wally is just being a good neighbour - he wants to keep me safe.' but that still doesn't stop you from panicking, scouring the house for the heaviest thing you can find and trying to smash the window. the glass does not break. Home suddenly groans with the sound of a thousand old floorboards and overloaded pipes - a dreadful, ear-rending noise - causing the glass in the window to triple in height and thickness right before your eyes.

👁 terrified, you scramble backwards to run out of the kitchen - only to run smack into Wally. you collapse to the floor and gaze up at Wally, standing in the doorway with his hands tucked behind his back, that cat's smile of his holds some private amusement.

👁 "did you try to leave Home?" Wally asks. "Silly, silly." he takes a step towards you, and then another - slow and loping steps, his cute puppet form now moving in a way equal parts unnatural and sinister. he crouches next to you, those eyes now whirlpools of void which obscure all but the slight white rim of his scleras. "Try again," Wally whispers. "I'd like that very much."

#hoo BOY i think i received this ask blacked out and then woke up with a book 🙈🙈🙈#this kinda stuff is my favourite so i hope you guys enjoy it too 😉#wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home arg #starleskasks #starleskawrites #tw: manipulation #tw: threats #tw: arson #tw: possessive behaviour #tw: entrapment #tw: kidnapping #wally darling x you

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kandavers · 10 months

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I can’t believe i haven’t Thought of this sooner Haha! (I’m Extremely Normal about Forearms)

He got So Embarrassed!!!

I enjoy drawing Them so much!! I enjoy drawing Flustered Wally a lot too!!! They are So in Love

#kandaversart #kandoodles #welcome home #ask #wally darling #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanart #comicdavers #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #wh wally #wally darling x yn #wally darling x y/n #yn #y/n #party coffin

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bunny-yan · 3 months

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Yandere Duke x Spouse!GN!Reader

TW: mentions rape, mentions violence, language, confinement —

“You’ve changed.”

It was surprising to hear something other than the sound of cutlery hitting the glass plates you used for meals considering the weeks of silence that filled the dining hall before.

Finishing the bite of steak, juices running from the meat, you dabbed at your mouth before responding without a glance up.

“How do you mean, my Lord?”

Your knife worked easily, cutting away the next portion to feast upon. The chef had decided on something heavier since you were trying to put on weight now that the seasons were changing. There would rarely be a need to travel beyond the mansion’s expansive garden now that you were due to experience a freeze. Parties would be halted for the weather to ensure everyone’s safety, the lord of the territory even going so far as to fine anyone found guilty of hosting due to the coming danger. It stifled things, but the mansion was large enough to keep one busy and hidden if need be.

“For starters, the way you address me.”

A small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes appeared on your face as you finally deigned to look into the stern expression on your husband’s face. It hadn’t changed much, but the years you’d spent observing him allowed you to see that this went beyond a cold exterior. No, he was feeling bothered.

You remembered when the lack of expression used to bother you. You felt as if you lived on eggshells trying to guess your husband’s mood since he never made it clear how he felt about things he considered tedious, but little gestures, a quirk of the lips, gaze drifting off to the side, they were all things you learned to be closer to him. To truly understand the man beneath. You often were proud of your devotion when it helped in your desire to get to know him.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, feigning innocence as you stabbed the next piece of steak. “I’m simply offering the Duke, the respect you have earned through the hardships you’ve faced in acquiring your position.”

There was a twitch in his brow with slightly downturned lips.

Distaste.

You didn’t think much of it as you placed the steak in your mouth, making a mental note to give compliments to the chef. He remembered how you liked yours cooked and it was simply divine.

You felt giddy From his continued silence knowing he couldn’t disagree with you. There wasn’t an issue. As you said, you were acting with the highest respect. What problem could be found there?

“You used to call me by my name.”

You had to stop the surprise that threatened to ruin your unbothered facade at the open confession. He’d usually flounder for something else to say or change the subject. You didn’t expect such a straightforward answer.

Your response was delayed by another bite and after continuing to avoid eye contact. Assuming that you wouldn’t respond he cleared his throat before continuing.

“You spend more time in the garden.”

Shaking your head, the easy smile was once again plastered to your face as you said, “I wanted to get a chance to see the flowers before the snow comes. There will be little to see then.”

Pursed lips.

He had more to say, but some things he felt damaged his pride to admit.

“You’ve also gotten lazy,” he said, voice taking an accusing tone. “You spend more time in bed in the mornings rather than seeing to your tasks.”

You could’ve gotten upset, but instead, a small laugh escaped from your lips.

“My Lord, the time allotted to spend on work for the duchy has not changed. I assure you that everything is being handled according to schedule.”

Again, his lips pursed. With a twitch of his eye, it was a telling sign that he was beginning to get angry.

There was only so much one could say without truly admitting what was wrong. Did he mention the time you spent in the garden because they were usually trips you took in his company? You couldn’t understand why he’d get so upset. The duration of your walk about the garden, you spoke and he offered little response if any. From the way he resisted the idea, making it out as if you were being a nuisance for forcing him to take breaks in the middle of his work, you couldn’t imagine why it was something he’d get so upset about being excluded from. As for your apparent laziness, coming home from morning meetings with the king, you suppose he found it odd that you no longer waited patiently at the door to greet him when he came back. Considering he barely glanced in your direction, it was again something that shouldn’t have caused him to make a fuss.

“Are you trying to tell me that this perceived distance is simply a figment of my imagination?”

He never was one to beat around the bush for long.

“Distance?” you began, again deciding to play innocent. “I’m right next to you, aren’t I, my Lord?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, voice tight as he stabbed a finger into the table. “You aren’t the same. You don’t-” treat me the same, you supposed he would’ve said had he not cut himself off. But he couldn’t mention the way the two of you used to lie in bed together. Talking of nothing when you got bored and decided instead to exist in his company. How could he say that he missed the way your hand would trail from his hair to the nape of his neck, making him feel closer to you with every graze of your skin against his? How was he supposed to reveal that it unnerved him when he didn’t see you every odd hour, having to now make excuses to leave his office since your impromptu hourly visits stopped? The anxious feelings would vanish when he caught sight of you, reassuring himself that nothing was wrong, but it quickly returned the longer he didn’t receive the same attentiveness that he was used to. You no longer sat in his lap to distract him from work or make offers for the two of you to get drunk beyond remembrance after he finished his tasks for the day. Your hands no longer reached for his when you went to bathe. Granted it wasn’t often that you would invite him, but even the weekly requests for his time and affection had stopped. You could sense the frustration building up and so you decided to drop the act in favor of finally talking about the elephant that drove a wedge between the two of you.

“No, I suppose my behavior is not the same, but please tell me, Duke. Do you think this supposed change happened before or after His Majesty visited?”

His body went rigid and his eyes locked on yours, cold and unyielding.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, lighting resentment in you as you struggled to keep your composure.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, my Lord.”

Sighing as he pushed a hand through his hair, he leveled your stare with his own as he began softly, “You have to understand that there are certain proclivities that the King has. The partners he brings in to gentle certain urges are customary.”

“And since when was it considered customary for one of those partners to be your spouse?”

You didn’t know how much longer you could contain the rage burning deep inside you as he continued to look at you as if you said nothing worthy of his concern. It took weeks for him to even acknowledge it and that was after you withdrew the affection that he had grown used to. Had grown to miss considering he rarely brought up anything unless it was of immediate detriment to the state of the duchy.

“Do you have nothing to say?” you asked, voice rising as you lost the control you struggled desperately to maintain.

The memory haunted you. It followed you no matter where you went, no matter what room you fled to. You couldn’t sleep at night without waking in sheer terror and panic that he would be standing at the edge of your bed. Watching you silently like a predator with eyes that felt too familiar for your liking. You couldn’t feel safe, could no longer feel comfortable in what you had called your home. Not when a shadow persistently followed you from room to room. It grew larger as the sun went down and sometimes you struggled to breathe in a room without a light banishing the darkness that threatened to consume you.

“I understand that event has upset you-”

“Upset me‽” you seethed, cutlery slamming down on the table and making it shake.

“But that is no excuse for neglecting your matrimonial duty.”

You scoffed.

“Duty? You speak of duty. And what of yours when you allowed your brother to fuck me?”

You felt yourself explode when he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Watch your tone.”

“How could you allow something like that to happen‽ In our home!” Getting to your feet, you fought the wave of dizziness that threatened to overtake you as you pierced him with a glare.

“I don’t wish to speak of this,” he said, setting his fork down with downturned lips. “Especially when you cannot control yourself enough to have a civil conversation.”

It was just like him to ask you to be civil while discussing something as appalling as what he refused to acknowledge.

He wanted a civil conversation? Fine.

Placing your palms on the table to give yourself a chance to expel the overflowing anger, you pinned him with a glare that held more than contempt, more than rage. You didn’t want to admit what you felt, but the longer you looked at the man you’d once felt proud to call your husband, cracks began to form at the edges of your furious exterior.

“Did you or did you not give your brother permission to have sex with me?”

“You don’t give the King permission. You heed his requests.”

Slamming your hands on the table, you didn’t care that the tactics to calm yourself down hadn’t worked. “Stop arguing semantics with me and answer the fucking question! Did you or did you not let your brother have sex with me?”

“I did.”

Stunned, you almost bit your tongue to keep from lashing out as he finally admitted what had been weighing down on you for so long. It killed you to go about your day as if you hadn’t been subjected to such cruel abandonment. What was worse is that he looked at you as if nothing had changed, as if life could continue, passing off that night, that moment, the single most terrifying happening of your existence, as a normal occurrence. It made you want to scream.

“And do you not see an issue with this?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek this time. Blood quickly poured into your mouth, but you couldn’t acknowledge it or the pain. Your mind wallowed in your husband’s sangfroid demeanor.

You knew he wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, that he often had trouble expressing his emotions, but you could’ve never imagined that he would be so… so uncaring. Especially after all this time. Especially after the lengths that you had gone to to understand him.

You didn’t know who this cold stranger was.

Only a stranger could turn a blind eye to their spouse being taken advantage of. Their spouse of eighteen years. To allow something that could only be described as the single, most humiliating experience of your life.

If you fought or denied him, you’d put your family's name, honor, and lives on the line. The King had been happy to remind you in punctuated grunts, body slick with sweat as he… as he…

You felt yourself get nauseous.

There was plenty you didn’t have to remember considering you closed your eyes to try and block out what had happened, but blocking one sense only heightened the others. You could still hear his harsh moans scratching across your ears and feel the stubble on his face from when he buried his head in your neck. Smell, taste his breath when-

“I’m going back,” you said suddenly, not knowing whether you spoke to your husband or yourself. Lifting yourself from the table, you tried to hold yourself with trembling legs that threatened to buckle if you didn’t focus on putting strength into them. “My father won’t be happy, but my mother will convince him. I’ll even ask him to consider not asking for you to return the dowry.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Sit down.”

You couldn’t be here. Not if you were going to forget. Not wake up and experience that awful moment each time you opened your eyes in that bed. Going back to your house at your age would forever be a shame on your name. Others would whisper and assume that the Duke no longer had any interest in the lowly Baron’s child, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it hurt your chances to get remarried. You didn’t care if you would never be able to remarry. You couldn’t be here.

Walking towards the entrance hall, you tried to swallow the uneasy feeling as you thought of what you would say to convince your father to take you back.

The sound of a chair screeching across the floor made you flinch, but you could do nothing as a firm hand closed around your forearm before you were dragged forward.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, feeling pain when you tried to pull away from his tightening grip. Stumbling after him up the stairs, you felt panic grip you.

The duke had never been a violent man. You’d known of his strength, of his experience and success in battle. You knew he was strong from glimpses of training you watched him engage in, but he wasn’t violent.

He would never-

Being shoved into a room, you fell without him holding you up and your eyes were incredulous as you looked up into his.

It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that he was angry.

Brows furrowed heavily, the door handle groaned in his fist.

“From the minute your father walked you down the aisle and handed you to me, you became mine to do with as I please. Your behavior is unacceptable. You will remain in this room until it changes.”

He slammed the door closed without another word, leaving you reeling in shock as the sound of the door locking echoed throughout the room.

The duke was never one to treat you with such little respect.

He never put his hands on you, only treating you with the utmost care.

He was hard to read, but he’d never- He wasn’t capable of something like this.

He would never-

He was… a stranger.

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