#i will take hammer and //fix// the canon

[edorazzi]

I finished Season 2 of Loki this month!

I'm so happy he and Mobius fixed the sacred timeline, got hitched at a fully beige wedding, and moved into that nice neighbourhood to raise two kids while Mobius runs the jetski emporium and Loki terrorises the rich suburban moms. Exactly as it should have been! 💖

[pollyannawog]

Hear me out. Beastars but it’s super queer (thx @moodlesmain)

[howldean]

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[thecreaturecodex]

Rokurokubi

"Yokai and Kami" © ArtStation user "Mamslick", accessed at his gallery here

[I didn't much care for the Pathfinder 1e version of the rokurokubi. Not that it's a bad monster; it's a fun take on the rokurokubi as a hag. But it's not a good representation of the actual folkloric entity. The rokurokubi is one of many yokai that seem to exist as a way of entertaining male anxieties about women, particularly in the context of a society as patriarchal as Edo period Japan. So many yokai look like beautiful women... but then they getcha! And a lot of them getcha because you deserved it. These yokai start as humans, and then form from the abused, the neglected and the downtrodden. These people don't have a real voice in society, but turning into a monster lets them act out. Sound familiar?

Which is why, even though the Paizo's 2e rokurokubi has acceptable art, I'm not using it. Because it's a man, and rokurokubi are women in the stories nine times out of ten. Plus, I'm posting this for Monster Girl Summer.]

Rokurokubi CR 3 CN Monstrous Humanoid This woman is beautiful, but clearly monstrous, as she has a neck that is twice the length of the rest of her body.

A rokurokubi is a cursed creature that represents the adage “turnabout is fair play”. The misdeeds of a person, particularly a wealthy, egotistical and stingy one, can cause their child, lover or other person close to them to become a rokurokubi. This especially occurs if the person to become a rokurokubi is abused, as it empowers them to strike back at their tormentor. Rather than sleep, the newly formed yokai begins to play pranks in the night, anything from drinking all the lamp oil to startling people by peering around corners to inflicting bloody wounds. They prefer to ruin lives and reputations rather than kill, at least initially. Most rokurokubi end up quite enjoying their new state, and move around in society after having dealt with their initial oppressor.

Many rokurokubi live their lives as uninhibited and hedonistic people most of the time, revealing their monstrosity in order to get something they want or to lash out at someone who is rude to them. Their necks can be as short as that of an ordinary (albeit willowy) person, or as long as a constrictor serpent's whole body. Their teeth are sharp and inflict bloody wounds, and they are experts at scaring people. Perhaps the strangest ability of a rokurokubi is its ability to drink oil and heal from it. Even alchemical bombs can be swallowed safely, if the rokurokubi manages to catch them in their teeth.

Rokurokubi can form from any type of humanoid, although most of them are human. In patriarchal societies, women more frequently turn into rokurokubi than men, but any sex and gender is possible. They have the lifespan ordinary to members of their original species. A few rokurokubi reject this, making pacts with shadowy powers for immortality—these are the universally sinister rokurobabas.

Rokurokubi           CR 3 XP 800 CN Medium monstrous humanoid Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +8 Defense AC 15, touch 14, flat-footed 11 (+4 Dex, +1 natural) hp 25 (3d10+9) Fort +4, Ref +8, Will +7 Immune sleep Defensive Abilities drink oil Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee bite +6 (1d4+3 plus bleed), 2 claws +6 (1d3+3) Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with bite) Special Attacks bleed (1d4), threatening lunge Statistics Str 16, Dex 19, Con 16, Int 15, Wis 16, Cha 19 Base Atk +3; CMB +6; CMD 20 Feats Combat Reflexes (B), Deceitful, Persuasive Skills Bluff +9, Diplomacy +9, Disguise +9, Intimidate +12, Knowledge (local) +4, Perception +8, Stealth +9 Languages Common, Senzar, one cultural language SQ adjust neck Ecology Environment urban Organization solitary or circle (2-5) Treasure standard Special Abilities Adjust Neck (Ex) As a move action, a rokurokubi can dramatically change the length of its neck. If it reels its neck in, it loses its reach with its bite attack, but gains a +8 racial bonus to Disguise checks to appear as its original species. If it extends its neck, it gains an additional 10 feet of reach with its bite attack, and can ignore cover when making a bite attack. Drink Oil (Su) As an immediate action, a rokurokubi can attempt to catch a thrown flask of oil, alchemist’s fire or alchemical bomb in its mouth. It makes a Reflex save with a +2 racial bonus against a DC equal to the attack roll made with the flask. If it succeeds, it takes no damage and instead heals 1 hit point per die of damage that would ordinarily be dealt. Threatening Lunge (Ex) If a rokurokubi extends its neck and makes a bite attack in the same turn, it can make an Intimidate check to demoralize the opponent it bites as a free action with a +2 racial bonus.

[secondratefiction]

Solicitous

Sometimes help and safety come from the most unexpected places...

[CH 1: Tech & OC, wc - 643 w/ author's note at the end]

Eriadu

Roughly 200 standard feet. That is how far the average person could fall, into water, and reasonably survive. Always the over achiever, Tech would later estimate he’d fallen approximately 230 standard feet. And survived. If that’s what you could call it.

He’d hit the water with such a force that it stunned him and he’d sank quite a bit below the surface before he’d slammed back to himself and tried to kick his way back upwards. Everything hurt, muscles and joints screamed at him for every movement, but the burning need for oxygen in his lungs won out. Tech broke the surface, yanking his helmet off and gasping for air as he tried to float for a few moments.

He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to get to the shore, but he was completely exhausted, in pain to the point it was hard to focus, and barely managed to pull himself out of the water. He struggled to crawl his way up the bank before he collapsed face first into the sand…

Tech was disorientated when he woke up, even more so than he was expecting to be. He was laying flat on his back on a hard surface, he assumed to be a table. He had to blink several times to get his eyes to focus before being able to take in the fact he was inside a ship. A small ship’s infirmary.

Had he been captured? Abducted?

He still had his goggles and he was unrestrained on the table… so if he was , he was unsure who would have taken him. With a groan and a grunt of pain, Tech managed to roll himself over and sit upright taking quick stock of himself-

He was still sore, surely bruised over most of his body, He could still move though so it was unlikely anything else was broken. The clone hissed as he slowly eased himself off the table and back onto his feet. He needed to find his gear and find out where he was.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The voice from behind him and the lights of the infirmary suddenly coming on made him flinch. Tech, still bracing himself on the table, turned around to look at the woman in the doorway. From her general appearance and facial markings, he would venture to say she was Kiffar… though that was about all he could gather about her at the moment.

“Back on the table, Goggles.” She demanded, coming around and pushing him back against the table, “You are nowhere near ready to be up and moving.”

“What…”Tech struggled for a moment trying to wrap his head around everything, “Who are you?”

“My name is Nori Das.” She said, pushing him to sit on the table again, “You’re on my ship.”

He frowned, but let her help him lift his legs and lay back across the table again, “Why?”

“Perfectly honest?” She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, “I was looking for someone else, and found you passed out on the beach. Fortunately for you, my karking conscience wouldn’t let me just leave you there… So here we are.”

Tech sat quietly, watching her warily as she prepared a hypo of something and coming back over to him. He was hesitant, but there was also something about her that made him feel like he could trust her, “... Who were you originally looking for?”

The Kiffar woman hesitated, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “... a friend…”

She gave him the injection as gently as she could and seemed to compose herself, “So… you got a name, Goggles? Or is that actually what your brothers call you?”

“Tech… My name is Tech.”

“Tech.” She nodded, stepping back from him a bit, “Well, welcome aboard the Solicitous, Tech.”

-*-*-*-

A.N. - This is the first part of an idea that I've been kicking around for a while. I have a vague idea for a couple more snippets and I've had Nori and her friend in developments for a very long time - if anyone is actually interested in hearing more of this please let me know

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

in other news: i am having entirely too much fun with this

[rabid-roach]

sometimes you write things and are just... Wow, I Wrote A Thing

[banyanas]

i fear the fe16 brainworms are returning

[midnight-in-paris9]

Thats it.

I’m rewriting the Teen Wolf Movie.

[borealtwilight]

why yes, i don’t ascribe to every aspect of halo canon. why do you ask?

and no, i don’t just refer to game canon ( see: halo 5, halo infinite ), but canon that comes from the novels or other tie-in media ( such as the lore books )

[sidecharactersdomatter]

I sure know where I stand on the spectrum

sometimes i say things on twitter and then make a little graph about it

[thecreaturecodex]

If I Ran the Zoo: Bestiary 1 Humanoids

Pathfinder 1e did a much better job keeping its monsters on an even level of balance between products than its progenitor, D&D 3.x, did. But even so, there was some room for improvement. One of the most notable gaps, I feel, is the power level of classic D&D humanoids compared to other monsters of their CR. The power discrepancy between a gnoll and an orc is a well known example, where the orc has a lower CR on paper but is a much nastier combatant. But compare across the same CR and you’ll notice similar patterns. Look at a boggard, a bugbear and a morlocks, for example, and it’s pretty clear that the bugbear is rather less powerful than its supposed peers. I suspect that’s for reasons of backwards compatibility.

I don’t care about backwards compatibility.

So here’s how I would alter and augment some of the classic D&D humanoids to be more in tune with their Pathfinder flavor text, and to be more challenging to your players. Many of these are just adjusting mental ability scores upwards, but there’s a few more complicated changes in store as well.

Bugbear

Boo! (Ex) A bugbear can make an Intimidate check to demoralize a single target as a move action. If it takes a standard action instead, it gains a +2 bonus.

Tools of the Trade (Ex) Bugbears count saps, light hammers, warhammers and earthbreakers as simple weapons, and treat one exotic weapon of their choice as a martial weapon for the purposes of proficiency (bolas, garrotes and lassos are popular choices).

Drow

Fueled by Spite (Su) As a standard action once per day, a drow can grant itself temporary hit points equal to their Hit Dice plus Charisma modifier (minimum 1 temporary hit point). These hit points last for 1 hour, or until expended.

(Yes, I know that PF2e is writing the drow out as part of them continuing to cut ties with D&D. I have my own ideas of how to handle that).

Giants

Greatclubs are simple weapons, so any giant with Martial Weapon Proficiency (greatclub) can trade it for a different feat. A suggested feat for hill giants is Dazzling Display or Toughness, and a suggested feat for stone giants is Combat Reflexes or Improved Initiative. Fire giants gain weapon familiarity with greatswords and longswords, treating them as simple weapons. Suggested replacements for Martial Weapon Proficiency for a fire giant include Greater Sunder, Greater Overrun, or Improved Critical (greatsword). Frost giants gain weapon familiarity with battleaxes and greataxes, treating them as simple weapons. Suggested replacements for Martial Weapon Proficiency for a frost giant include Improved Initiative, Iron Will, or Vital Strike.

Gnolls

Bite Attack: All gnolls have a bite attack as a primary natural weapon that deals 1d4 points of damage. The Snapping Bite feat still exists; it increases the bite damage to 1d6, and allows the gnoll to make bite attacks while wielding weapons at a -2 penalty, as if it had the Multiattack feat.

Weapon Familiarity (Ex) Gnolls treat flails and heavy flails as if they were simple weapons, and nunchaku and flindbars as martial weapons.

In addition, there are two subraces of gnolls, the Carrion Crewe and the Packmasters. Carrion Crewe gnolls tend to be chaotic evil in alignment, whereas Packmaster gnolls tend to be neutral. Each has an additional unique ability modifier, and its own racial ability.

Carrion Crewe Gnolls: +2 Con

Plague Born (Ex) Carrion Crewe gnolls gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against disease, ingested poisons, and becoming nauseated or sickened.

Packmaster Gnolls: +2 Wis

Hopeful (Ex) Packmaster gnolls gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against fear effects and emotion effects such as despair, grief or boredom. They do not gain this bonus against rage effects, or other types of emotion effects, such as an unnatural lust or overwhelming presence spell (GM’s discretion).

Goblin

-2 Str, +4 Dex, -2 Wis: Goblins are fast, but physically weak and prone to foolishness

Hobgoblin

Spurn Elf-Magic (Ex) Hobgoblins gain a +2 racial bonus to all saving throws against arcane spells.

Kobold

-4 Str, +2 Dex, +2 Cha: Kobolds are physically very weak, but have agile muscles and strong personalities

Ogre

+10 Str, -2 Dex, +4 Con, -4 Int. Ogres do not have a penalty to Charisma, as they are very good at jug playing, dancing, and terrifying their victims.

Orc

+4 Str, -2 Int, -2 Cha. Orcs are in tune with their senses and surroundings, even if they do tend to fight first and think later.

Troll

+10 Str, +4 Dex, +12 Con, -2 Int, +2 Wis, -2 Cha. Golarion’s trolls are not as stupid as their cohorts in other versions of reality. They are stubborn, and have the keen senses of a predator.

Vegepygmy

A vegepygmy is as it appears in Pathfinder Bestiary 1, but is a CR 1/3 creature. Their endonym is a succession of short popping sounds. If you dislike the word “pygmy” in the name (which is fair, and I’ve had people discuss in my notes before), consider calling them “russetoids” or “stemons” (named after the brown slime mold genus Stemonitis)

[marieadeledracherambles]

Buying Hope: Intro

A couple months ago, Tapas recommended to me the webtoon Yongsa High: Dungeon Raiders, which is an infinite flow/dungeon raider story about a school for adventurers. Yoo Jaryong is a smuggler/poacher paying for his retired adventurer dad's medical bills. On one of these missions, he runs into a student of Yongsa High, Jin Saerom, who hires him to get into YH and be part of her party. (She's a Rich Girl.) Jaryong needs the money, so he accepts. Season 1 is about his getting ready for the transfer exam and meeting his dad's old colleagues... the ones who didn't betray him and leave him penniless, anyway.

I figured I'd give it a shot, since I'm a fan of BNHA and My S-Class Hunters.

And I fell in love.

Yongsa High (also known as Warrior High: Dungeon Raid Department, if you like me got hooked and couldn't wait for the official translation any longer) is SO GOOD. The characters are likeable and/or have motivations beyond the needs of the plot. The world is interesting. The plot is layered. I sped through all the free episodes, then spent two days looking for the unofficial translation. After I'd finished it, I went looking for fanworks on AO3 and found...

nada.

There are no works for this comic on AO3 and five posts about it on Tumblr, even once you use the more well-known name for it.

I decided then to write fic for it. And I already had an angle.

There are two things that really bother me and keep the comic from being perfect: the fact that there are very few female characters at all, and the fact that the overarching plot being set up is "dragons wanted to rule the world, got beat back, so they started infiltrating society to destroy it." The first is typical of genres aimed at young men, but still not okay. The second skims way too close to "lizard people are controlling/destroying society," which for those who don't know is an antisemitic conspiracy theory meant to make people target Jews for existing.

The first thing I'm taking the hammer to is the dragon conspiracy theory. In Buying Hope, there are two villains! The first antagonist, which is the canon Big Bads, is instead of being dragons in human guise a group of anarchists who got their abilities from equipment and magic. They want to take down society because it's corrupt. The second is the dragon who poisoned Jaryong's dad and sent him to the hospital in the first place. The dragon believes that if he bides his time until humans lower their guard, he'll be able to take over.

The second change I'm making is that Jin Saerom Is More Than A Sexy Wallet. (Upon rereading, that was a slightly unfair appellation. She does stuff! Plot relevant stuff, even! She just also is a font of cash money who stands in a corner and looks upset while her upperclassmen/cousin's friends harass her and Jaryong.) The title comes from Saerom's belief that money gets her almost everything she wants, and how she's simultaneously proven right and disillusioned. Buying hope isn't usually possible, unless your dad runs an incredibly profitable company.

Jin Saerom is probably my favorite character because she has depth. She wants to be an adventurer, but she's not very talented. She works hard until her cousin shows up, at which point she turns into a shrinking violet. And yet another YH guy describes her as "never lowering her head," and she's still persevering despite some pretty intense social ostracization. She's slightly naive and tosses money around like it's nothing, but also she genuinely wants to be helpful, it's not a flex. I want to braid her hair and educate her on class disparity. So, naturally, she's the main character of Buying Hope.

There's also hefty amounts of teenage chaos, because there's five teenagers in this friend group and they're all outcasts/really weird. So when Saerom and co aren't terrorizing the large-scale antagonists or whatever poor dungeon their teachers unleashed them on this week, they're terrorizing the school bullies.

And a mecha-Toothless battle mobility aid.

This is gonna be FUN.

[marmotsomsierost]

Stårgåte SG-1: Window of Opportunity

You get such delights as

And

And too many others which are best discovered by watching.

Thank you to @sleepnoises for making the original poll & for giving us the idea to to this :)

Sorry if we couldn’t get your favorite on here, we were limited to only 12 options (11 if you don’t include the “other” option).

[untitledgoosegay]

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis

[thought--bubble]

To Punish My Darling

Canon Aemond (Dark) X (Maid Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 3,375

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Based off THIS request

Warnings: Child labor, Arranged Marriage, Execution, Dub-con, Smut. (Oral male receiving)

"It is a privilege to work at the red keep" Your mother had said to you as she fixed a bonnet on your head.

At the age of 10 you did not see it this way but alas you were the oldest of your siblings and your parents did not have much money, it was your turn to start helping the family, so you would join your mother in being a chambermaid at the red keep.

"I have been working up there for years and haven't had any trouble. You will simply take your work and keep your head down." This is how you came to work at the red keep. Your first assignment had been collecting the washing.

At the age of ten you were not trusted to do much else other than scuttle about the castle collecting clothes for washing and then once washed bringing them back to their rightful owner. This was an easy job and the first few days you completed the task without so much as a hiccup. But today, your third day, you were to pick up the washing of the Prince Aemond Targaryen.

The problem? He had recently received a grievous injury, which left him recovering in his chambers.

"He will be in there; you will need to knock and await a clear order to enter. is that understood?" The head maid Alandra had warned you. You nodded your head furiously in understanding and skipped through the corridors making your way to his chambers. When you arrived you simply rapped upon the door as you had done with all the others putting your ear to the door to await a response.

"Enter!" You hear a voice muffled, from the door and distance. You open the door and enter the chamber looking for the basket for washing.

" I said do not enter!" The angry voice of a young boy came hurtling at you as you freeze in terror. You avert your eyes "M-m-my Prince my apologies, I thought I- I- I heard-" He cuts you off abruptly "Thought what? that you could just enter my chambers when I advised you not to! Come to see, did you? Come to see the horror?" As he says this, he keeps his head turned from you.

"N-no I am here to pick up the washing! I swear!" Your entire body shakes, you have clearly made a grave mistake and upset a Targaryen Prince and even at this youthful age you understand the repercussions that could result from an incident like this.

"Take it and go" he says quietly, still turned away from you. "Do not come back in here.” You bow your head quickly grabbing the basket of laundry and run from his chambers. You quickly drop the laundry off to the woman doing the washing and run to find your mother.

Your mother, most distressed to hear this news, tells Alandra who simply states that all they can do at this point is wait to see if anything comes of it.

3 more days pass and you continue your work waiting for the hammer to fall but it never comes. After a month or two you had all but forgotten the incident, the only lingering reminder being your refusal to return to the chambers of Prince Aemond.

That is until he is released from his recovery, eyepatch firmly in place. Now it is much more difficult to avoid him, this becomes especially apparent when you accidentally stumble onto his hidden reading spot which happens to also be the place you like to eat your midday meal.

"Oh, my apologies my Prince" You bow your head and back up desperate to get out of there as quickly as possible. "What's that?" He gestures toward the oranges in your hand.

"O-oranges my Prince" You back up one more step itching to remove yourself from his presence. "Give me one" he holds his hand out to you; you timidly step forward until you are just close enough to place the oranges in his outstretched hand.

"I said one" He leaves his hand outstretched waiting for you to remove one of the oranges. With a quivering hand you reach down and lift one of the oranges. Once you have it you grip it tightly and take a step back preparing to drop into a curtsy. "Stay" he doesn't lift his head when he makes this command, he simply starts to peel his orange.

You stand rooted in place.

"Well sit. I Cannot have you standing over me like some sort of ogre" he gestures to the empty space to his left. You quietly and slowly lower yourself to the ground and the two of you quietly eat your oranges not exchanging a word.

This one chance meeting develops into a regular meeting tucked away in the back of the garden. The silent meetings change over time into brief conversations which further change into much longer and much deeper conversations.

Before you even understood how impossible this situation is you had become besotted with the prince. You found yourself rushing to your meeting spot and laughing with him until your sides hurt.

Your feelings only got stronger as you saw him grow from a boy to a man. lithe, assertive face and lone purple eye that you still see every night when you lay down to sleep.

The little fantasy you had built up in your head all comes crashing down when your mother announces the son of the local butcher has expressed interest in you.

"I am not interested in him!" You scream. "My heart belongs to another!"

"Do you think I am a fool?" Your mother seethes. "Do you think I do not see the doe eyes you make toward the prince?" You look up at your mother, eyes welling with tears.

"I ... I love him mother." Your mother runs her hands down her face. "He is a Prince of the realm! You are but a maid!" she pulls you in for a hug "Darling it is impossible. You are so bright, my pride, you have to know this."

You cry into your mother's shoulder. You know it is impossible. You have known this all along, but you were happy being able to pretend that maybe, just maybe you could have what your heart most desired.

You lament the thought of marrying another and putting that fantasy to rest. Ending that dream in its entirety.

"He will be a butcher. That is a comfortable life for you. I cannot imagine we could find a better match" She strokes your cheeks fondly. "All I wish for you, my beauty, is a life easier than mine, and with this match, you will get that" her eyes convey a silent plea as she looks at you.

"I understand mother. This is a smart match." You nod your head as you fight back your tears. As much as this hurts, you know she is right. Life as a butcher's wife would be one of moderate comfort, while the life of a Princess would never be yours to have.

Over the coming weeks you are introduced to the young man your parents have decided to be your husband. Alden is a nice boy. He is decent looking and overly sweet. You were pleased to see that he wasn't quite as plump as his mother or have as little hair as his father.

You move about your daily duties in the castle the way you always have. You have not told Aemond of the match set for you by your parents. You knew he would not care but, you had a lingering feeling of discomfort over breaching the topic with him. You did, however, want to tell him before you were wed. Your husband-to-be had decided that he did not want his wife to be a maid at the castle. You would work in the butcher shop like the rest of his family. So, with a heavy heart just two days before your planned marriage you sit down in the garden next to Aemond, two oranges in hand.

He lifts his head from his book. "You're late. I was thinking I may have to go fetch my own orange today. "

"My apologies, I have a few tasks I have been training some of the new girls on" You squeeze your orange in the palm of your hand digging your nails into the course skin.

He raises an eyebrow. "I don't want a different chamber maid; you do things just as I like."

"As will they, I will make sure of it. My.... My time working here has ended. I am to join my husband’s family at their shop in town"

You avoid his gaze as you speak just watching the orange in your hand as you squeeze it tighter and tighter your fingernails buried in the outer layer.

"I did not know that you had been wed." He closes the book he was reading placing it in his lap.

"Look at me" he nearly barks.

The tone shocks you out of your daze "I-I-I-I am not, not yet. I am to be wed in two days."

The playful look he had worn when you arrived has vanished and been replaced with a steely cold look. "To whom?" his voice is quiet but controlled.

You look at him with a dumfounded expression. You were not expecting a reaction like this from him. You really did not expect a reaction at all, let alone one so passionate.

"I asked you a question, I expect that you answer it." His one eye is locked on you, and he taps his finger against the cover of his book.

"Alden. He is the son of the local butcher" You look down at the ground and lower your voice "It is a smart match."

"Hmmmm.... Seems so"

The rest of your midday meeting passed in silence, Aemond's jaw clenched his orange resting upon his book.

Eventually, you bid him farewell and continued with the training of your replacement maids before heading home for the night.

You wake up the next morning preparing for your last day working in the red keep. You will be married the next day, and your new life will start. Your meetings with Aemond, will be just memories of a young girl. Plenty of fodder for dreams and nothing more.

Leaving your home, which normally was no special affair, led you directly into a scene of chaos. People all around you chattering about the execution of a thief, a thief who dared to steal from the icy cold Prince Aemond.

A general sense of dread fills your body as you follow the large crowd into the courtyard. Aemond and a few of the guards stood around a man on his knees his head down.

"Stealing from the crown is an offence punishable by death" Aemond states loudly his voice quieting the crowd. He twirls a large sapphire between his fingers.

"You have stolen something very precious to me."

"M-m-my Prince, I do not know how that came into my home!" The man you now recognize as Alden pleads.

You gasp covering your mouth. Why would Alden steal from the prince? He is hardly at the keep. Only ever there to help his father deliver meats, when would he have had time to steal from Aemond?

"It was found not only in your home but on your person" Aemond's voice is loud, crisp, clear, and cold as ice.

Your mother walks up beside you and takes your hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. You look over at her bewildered and frightened, but her gaze is set toward the horrifying display before you.

"Let this be a lesson to all" His one cold eye scans the crowd until it lands on your mother.

"For those who wish to steal from me.... this is the fate that awaits you" his eye stays locked on your mother as the executioner behind him raises an axe over a quivering and crying Alden. Your stomach is cold, as if full of ice as you look at the man you thought was your friend. His eye set on your mother making sure she understands his silent threat.

You hear the sound of the axe come down and quickly lower your head, focusing your thoughts instead on your mothers’ shoes. Her feet are so dainty.

The crowd starts to disperse, and your mother tugs your hand bringing you toward the keep.

"No! I am not going in there!" You try to yank your hand away from your mother, but she pulls it back to her quickly.

"There is no choice in this, I think that much is clear" She snaps at you keeping her voice low. "We go back to work and continue on."

You nod your head; words do not come to you, but you continue with a kind of mechanical movement. One foot in front of the other. You complete your tasks in much the same way. The only deviation being that you decided to skip your midday meal.

Only 2 hours after your usual meeting time you were summoned to Aemond's chambers. He never summons you. He always knew when to expect you to turn over his linens, collect his clothing for washing. He never needed to summon you.

You approach his door as if you are the one being led to the axe. It could not be a coincidence that yesterday you told Aemond you were to marry Alden and today Alden is publicly executed.... could it?

You lightly knock on his door and await his usual call for you to enter; instead, the door flies open. You flinch back slightly at the sudden movement looking off to the side.

"Come in" He stands to the side giving you space to enter.

"You requested my presence my Prince?" you try to keep your voice low, and eyes angled so you are looking just behind him, hoping beyond all hope that he cannot see how absolutely terrified you are.

"Look at me" he stands directly before you, so close you can feel the heat springing from his body. You slowly raise your head and look up at him through your lashes.

"You are to stay working here, at the red keep as my personal chamber maid."

"Yes, my Prince" You slightly nod your head.

"You missed midday meal, I waited for an orange that never came" he places his hands behind his back and leans forward ever closer, bridging the already miniscule gap that lay between you.

"I found myself without an appetite."

"That may be so, but I was famished...." he clicks his tongue. "Still am"

He grabs you by your chin tightly. "You could not have possibly thought I would have let him have you" He growls up against the side of your face. "There are many things that I deserve that are given to others, but I would not lose my darling to a butcher" his voice is filled with disgust.

"This is not possible, you can not marry me I am a maid!" you look at him eyes pleading as he starts to chuckle.

"I know that, I do not plan to marry you."

You look at him questioningly "Then what-"

" I plan to keep you as my own." he lightly traces his finger down your cheek.

your face falls.

"Now, it brings me no pleasure to punish my darling, but you have left me no choice" He moves in close dragging his nose along the side of your face inhaling your scent. "You will be an obedient servant for me? Won't you?"

"Yes, my prince" an unfamiliar feeling of fear mixed with anticipation creeps up your spine as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him.

"Now.... I will give you a set of instructions and you will follow each one with immediacy and accuracy." as you go to respond he interrupts "Do not speak unless I ask you to". You nod just to let him know you understood his instruction.

"Good.... now remove everything" You look at him your face conveying a look of confusion.

"Everything that you are wearing" He tilts his head to the side, again putting his arms behind his back, a small smirk on his face.

You slowly start to unlace your dress, hands nervously shaking.

"Quickly now. I have somewhere to be." You take a deep breath in and just as before your movements become mechanical. Taking your clothes off as you would at home before washing. As you pull each piece of clothing off you fold it and place it in a pile by your feet. Once you are fully undressed you look back to Aemond awaiting his next order.

He walks up close to you. "Now me"

Your trembling fingers slowly start to unclasp the buckles on his doublet. He chuckles and clicks his tongue "Quickly".

Your fingers move along his buckles and laces like a musician playing an instrument, quick and precise. Once he is as bare as you are, nothing left on but his eye patch. He motions you over to the bed, as you move to get on it his voice echoes through the room.

"No" he stops you and pulls you back toward the edge of the bed.

"Kneel here" you get down on your knees facing the edge of the frame as he sits before you.

"As I told you, I have someplace to be" He wraps his hand around your chin, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. "My pretty little darling" He starts to pump himself to full hardness, while gripping your chin tighter, the nail of his thumb digging into the sensitive skin of your lip.

He hits your chin with the hardened tip of his cock and chuckles.

"You look even prettier like this." He slides the tip of his cock against your plush lips.

"open", you open your mouth looking up at him through your lashes. "That's good" he slides the tip into your mouth as you settle yourself down between his legs. He grabs the braid tied up on the back of your head and grips it tight slowly lowering your head. As he pushes you further and further down his shaft you start to sputter

"Shhhhh darling" He coos gently as he strokes the side of your face. He holds your head in place as you get used to the sensation, breathing through your nose.

He continues to push your head down until your nose is buried in his groin and you are gagging, tears flowing from your eyes, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth. He sighs and chuckles, before grabbing your braid and holding your head in place as he pulls you slightly back. You struggle to take in a gulp of air before he is back inside your mouth, his hips thrusting feverishly as he uses your mouth as if it were not attached to an actual human.

The sounds of his sighs and pants, along with your gagging and slurping fill the room as the heat and tingling between your thighs grows almost unbearable. He stands from the bed still gripping your hair tightly shoving his cock further into your mouth battering the back of your throat as he increases his pace.

You attempt to look up at him, but your eyes can only see the blurry shape of the man above you.

Just as your head begins to feel light, like you could just float away, he stiffens in your mouth and presses himself all the way to the back of your throat and holds you there. You fight the urge to pull away as you feel him empty himself directly down your throat as he lets out a choked groan.

When he finally pulls himself out of your mouth and walks back toward his clothes you sit back on your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes and gasping for air.

"Turns out I lied" he says coolly.

You look over at him still panting heavily, face red, chin covered in drool.

"I did find pleasure in that."

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