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vampi-fixx · 1 year

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day 2, amon: masks

kinktobruary day 2

amon x reader // legend of korra

summary: amon is an enigmatic leader, but someone you would follow till the end of time. it doesn’t bother you that you’ll never see the man behind the mask. really.

tw/cw: 18+ only, minors dni, masks, under the table BJs, not really kinky till the end? more introspective/character study

word count: 1.8K

Amon never takes his mask off.

You’ve grown intimately aware of Amon in one kind of way, in the manners of flesh, in the way bodies can move and fit against each other in different configurations under the moonlight, but he remains as closed off as ever in every other aspect of his life. He remains a man of mystery.

Even now, as you work your hands over his throbbing length, he betrays little beneath the mask. If you weren’t attuned to the unique signs of his arousal—the way his breath catches ever so slightly when you curve your wrist, the narrowing of his dark gaze, the tendency for his fingers to twitch and grasp at something, as if he’s not used to being at someone’s mercy—you wouldn’t be able to tell he was enjoying this. But because you’ve grown used to staring up at those dark eyes and what little of himself he offers during these intimate moments, these are things you can count on. Things that make Amon somewhat less of a figure, and more of a human.

In contrast, you’re bare. He doesn’t ask you to bare yourself to him, but he does ask that you take your mask off. He says it’s so he doesn’t forget your face, but you know Amon. You know his keen eye to detail, his attention to body language. You’re sure that he could recognize you in a crowd.

You wonder if he just wants it to feel less impersonal to him. And maybe part of you hopes that, by letting him see you like this, bared open, he’ll also decide to bare some of himself to you.

Regardless of masks, there is another clear indicator of his arousal—the hard column of flesh in your grasp that throbs at your every expert movement.

He sighs raggedly, and you take it as a sign to lean down and pucker your lips around the head of his cock. There’s not much of a scent to Amon. He smells clean, like soap, with a hint of ruggedness, like pine. When you take him deeper into your mouth, his breath hitches ever so slightly, and he starts making short, quick thrusts into your mouth.

“Now,” he says, and you pull off, substituting your hand for your mouth. Amon is a kind man; when he finishes, he never makes you swallow his release. It dribbles into your fist, and you’re reaching for a tissue.

Then he’s getting up, buckling his pants. All business, no time for loitering. “...Good work,” he says, with the air of a man who is used to giving commands, but there’s a tinge of hesitance, a keen attention to his phrasing, as if he himself is not sure of where the boundaries he’s drawing are.

Nonetheless, as you nod, murmur a thank you to him as he slips out and stands guard so you can get dressed in peace, his hooded eyes imprinted into your thoughts. The image stays with you throughout the day.

—

Amon, you learn, is a man of restraint. Even when he’s hard underneath you, above you, inside of you, he rarely cracks his calm, measured demeanor. And even the cracks you do see are hairline tears in his persona.

The night you started this affair of yours, though, is an entirely different beast. It was a victory for the Equalists, after one of the rallies amassed over a thousand spectators. The movement was growing, your voices gaining more and more traction. Back at the base, there was fanfare, celebrations. You had one too many drinks of Narook’s special mix, and even Amon, amidst the celebrations, decided to indulge in one or two. He caught you in a corridor, and amidst his commendation of the way you’d taken down benders in your last raid, something shifted in the air. At some point, the two of you grinding against each other like teenagers, your mouth nipping at every bit of exposed flesh on his neck... Amon lifted his mask just enough to sloppily press his lips against your neck. You remember the warmth of his lips, like the rice wine warming both your bodies.

While Amon’s goal as leader of the Equalists is to give everyone a fair chance, to level the playing field, in the bedroom, he rarely extends that to you. Amon in the bedroom is a force to be reckoned with, all commands and heated looks, and rough caresses. He has you wrapped around his finger, and all he has to do is glance at you.

He took you on the simple couch in his office, the legs creaking menacingly with every one of his sharp, efficient thrusts. Efficient. That was how he liked to fuck, much like how he led. But throughout the night, it was a mesh of both efficiency and fervor. Fire and ice. Almost as if Amon himself was struggling with these own urges.

And in the end, when he was grunting out your name, his release drying cool on your thigh, he handed you his shirt to clean the mess. It was a small act, and he said nothing to accompany it, but the way he reclined next to you and your breaths moved in tandem said everything you needed to know.

—

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, just a glimpse, his hand hovering over your head. You always feel small under Amon’s grip, under the hands that could take away people’s bending, that are capable of taking on the Avatar herself, but this time even more so. The Lieutenant drones on and on about the next phase of the Equalists’ plan in this impromptu meeting: the takeover of City Hall. Your own hand is wrapped around Amon’s throbbing, stiff flesh under the table as he takes charge and lays out their line of attack.

While the two of you are usually not this risky, you had little time to prepare, since the Lieutenant and his men had burst into the room just as you lowered to the ground. Amon quickly scooted you deeper under the table, and to all extents and purposes, looked nearly unaffected, if it weren’t for the exaggerated stillness to his form.

A lick to the head of his cock has his fingers tangling in your hair, tightening in warning, his gaze discretely roving over to you. And then, when you slip the head between your lips, he leans forward slightly. The meeting drags on, Amon tightening his grip every so often when your sucking gets too exuberant. Papers are shuffled around, voices rise in argument, and then, as the door to his office open and the members of his task force slip out, he slips you onto his desk, his mouth hard and unyielding on yours. You feel the barest hint of stubble against your cheek, and you press harder against him, but then’s parted from you, his mask slipping back over his chin.

The way his hands maneuver your body to a position he likes is as fluid as water. Almost smoother than the way he slips off both your pants, his girth parting you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

Something about trying to fuck in Amon’s office while the Lieutenant and his Equalists hover just outside has you feeling more on edge. Each of his thrusts feel like they split you to your very core, and you eventually have to bite down on his shoulder. He groans at the pain, his hips slapping rougher against yours.

“Hold on, I need to tell Amon something,” you hear, just outside his door. As the sound of footsteps draw closer, the both of you still. The air between you stills as well. Oddly enough, you can feel Amon’s muscles flexing, almost imperceptibly, balls deep as he is inside of you. The doorknob rattles, then there’s a pause. There’s the sound of choking, then a howl of pain from outside. Eventually their voice grows quieter, whether with distance or pain, you can’t tell. But it almost sounds as if they’re being dragged away against their will...

“What was—”

Amon silences you by hilting himself in you once more. Your breath catches, and he starts rolling his hips into you with a frenzy. He fucks you hard and fast, almost invigorated by the thrill of nearly getting caught. When he grasps your thighs, dragging you closer to him as he buries his length into you, you cry out. His next thrusts misses its mark, his dick sliding against your mound before his release splatters in ropes onto your stomach. You’re trembling, adrenaline rushing through your veins as his gloved fingers brush against your clit, rubbing furiously to stimulate your hypersensitive nerves until you also reach your end, your entrance clenching around nothing.

Amon pants into your shoulder, his breaths echoing against the hollow wood of his mask, and for one, measly moment, your fingers twitch with the yearning to take it off. You’ve often fantasized about what he looks like. To your knowledge, he’s never showed anyone outside of the Lieutenant. You could picture him—a strong jawline, piercing, intense eyes… but that urge dissipates as your fingers trail across his mask, towards the top of his mussed hair before smoothing it back.

He stiffens against your touch. There’s a pause as if he’s attempting to comprehend the domestic action. When he addresses you, the ice glazing his usual commands is gone, replaced by the lull of waves right before a typhoon approaches.

“We have a rally in ten.”

“...Of course.”

“I trust you’ll make it there alright?” He pulls away from you, his eyes searching you, looking for something Loyalty, perhaps? Your feelings?

You bare them all to him, as you have nothing left to lose.

“Yes, sir.”

As you’re putting your pants back on, feeling oddly dejected, for whatever reason, he stops you with a clearing of his throat.

“After… After the Equalists manage to bring down Republic City, perhaps we can… celebrate.” He hesitates. “In... other ways as well.”

You smile softly. “Yes, sir, I would like that.”

Amon may not be the most transparent leader, but you would follow him through the shipwreckage of the modern bending world. Perhaps he sees you as little more than an outlet, and you;re fine with that, really. You would take what little he offered you and make the most of it, as you had done with most or your circumstances.

And when it came down to it, maybe the man who was inside you was a man who didn’t even know himself, much less was someone for you to attempt to piece together. Still, in those moments where your bodies stayed connected past the cool of his ardor, and he seemed reluctant to leave… He never seemed more human than then.

#amon x reader #noatak x reader #legend of korra x reader #lok x reader #lok imagine #tati writes #not sfw

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 8 months

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“A Better Future” Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Elf/Noldor |Third Person POV)

Themes: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol use and drinking | Thranduil being a bit of a jerk

Wordcount : 2.2k words

Summary: Y/n settles in Amon Lanc and is offered a chance to serve during a special festival.

A/n: Inspiration for Amon Lanc

Rules and tag form here | Prompts for requests here.

Y/N’s POV

Rise.

Toil.

That was y/n’s lot in the halls of king Oropher. She would rise an hour before dawn, and then set herself to work.

She did not mind her duties—that much she could say. Y/n would awaken and bathe before garbing herself in the livery worn by all those who served. White shift, a green dress, and a neat white apron, all lined with simple gold embroidery. Even the cowl she used to cover her hair was as white as snow, and lined in gold embroidery as well. The food was better than anything she had before, and her tasks, as many as they were, were bearable.

Y/n would spend what little spare time she had during her duties studying the great halls. Slender spires and thick curtain walls, beautiful domed towers and manses rose atop Amon Lanc. A winding pathway led to lush forests and a mighty river beneath it. Magnificent gardens and fountains, and carvings of the Ainur dotted the grounds within. Then there was the palace itself. Y/n had never seen anything grander in her life. She wondered if Doriath was the same before the second kinslaying.

"Take this to the king." A cook came forth holding a tray laden with food. "And make haste. The steward says he is of a mood this morn."

Because of my presence, no doubt. Y/n picked up the tray and walked down many a lofty hall and corridor, threading her way around courtiers and warriors and elves going about their day, not stopping until she had reached the high, white doors to Oropher’s chambers. A warrior standing at attention by the door announced her arrival. Oropher bids her to enter. When the doors swung open, y/n took a deep breath, composed herself, and walked in.

It was not the first time she had seen the inside of the king’s private rooms, but her eyes flew wide all the same when they took in the general splendor. Oropher had been seated at a little table, his son by his side. The king did not even acknowledge her, but the crown prince seemed to follow her every move.

"Good morrow, your grace." Y/n set the tray on the table and gracefully dipped to her knees. Oropher merely hummed and gestured for her to arrange their meal.

Oropher made an impatient sound after picking up a piece of parchment. "This is the first Mereth Nuin Giliath since the sacking of Doriath." He gave it to his son to read. "And already it is turning into quite an affair."

A slow smile worked its way across Thranduil’s face. Y/n dared to raise her eyes and glance at him. The crown prince was his father’s exact in many ways, all high cheek bones and silver-gold hair, and a demeanor of great strength. The similarities, however, ended with their eyes. Oropher’s were a glorious silver, and Thranduil’s were a radiant blue. Flashes of red-hot anger coursed through her when she glimpsed how they had braided their hair, and nearly raised her hand to touch hers. What was left of it, that is. She turned away, her cheeks aflame, when Thranduil shifted in his place and found her looking.

If he was displeased, he did not show it. "We have partaken in feasts far greater than this," the prince was quick to remind his father, "and planned even grander ones besides. We can manage, I am sure."

Oropher sighed and turned to face y/n. "You may leave," he commanded sourly.

Y/n dipped to her knees once more before leaving, her anger ebbing and giving way to curiosity. Mereth nuin giliath, Oropher had said. The feast under the stars. She had only heard wondrous tales of it from those fortunate few who traveled to Doriath, and now, she would get to see one with her own eyes, and perhaps even be chosen to help the others serve at the tables. Giddy with excitement, y/n picked up her pace and rushed to the kitchens. The cooks did not like it when the other servants tarried on the upper floors too long.

This was how her days were spent. Rise, and toil. Rise, and toil. Serve and scrub and wash and clean, and even help the cooks at times. Y/n learned far more than she ever did. For instance, Oropher and his son preferred a light, golden wine when breaking their fast. Thranduil’s steward, Feren, preferred mint tea instead. The king’s general rose earlier than most, and his first task of the day was to wander down to the kitchens, to wheedle one of the cooks into giving him a dish of sweet rolls and pastries. Y/n would keep to the shadows and watch while Angon batted his lashes and simpered at Nitiel. Nitiel would swat him on the shoulder with a clean cloth, then swat his hand away when he tried to snatch a fruit tart. Angon laughed and took one anyway.

The general wanted to marry her, so the others said, but his family disapproved. They thought Nitiel was of too little importance to join a noble family like theirs. Still, Angon persists in his courtship, and the gossips declare that he will wed his lady in such a way that no one will be able to say no. Y/n knew what that meant. She moved deeper into the shadows and walked away as Angon leaned over the table, believing him and Nitiel to be alone. Y/n heard a wistful sigh and a fit of giggles, and then more laughter. She smirked. Angon managed to steal another tart.

The days passed by as if in a dream, and while many of the servants were kind, many of those that lived on the upper floors were not. Y/n heard the harsh whispers and the names.

Kinslayer

Murderer

Y/n was neither of these, but it hurt to hear them all the same. She tried her best to ignore them, but every time she glanced into the small silvered looking glass in her chamber and touched her shorn hair, tears came to her eyes.

Mother used to braid my hair and tell stories, she remembered. Father would pick up a lyre and hum softly while she did so. Such happy times darkened forever by the oath’s taint. Oh, if only father had refused his masters. If only he had said no and walked away.

It was too late now. Her father did not refuse his masters. He did not say no. Y/n pulled out a little bag from her pocket and drew out a worn pin after opening it. It was made for her by her father when she came of age. Her mother had painted it with tiny flowers found only in Valinor. The filigreed silver had acquired a green patina due to age, and the painting had all but faded. Y/n treasures it still. It was the one thing she refused to sell, as it reminded her of happier times. She turned it over her fingers, her heart aching desperately when she remembered she was here, and her parents were waiting for her in the Halls of Mandos.

I will not see them, she thought, not for many and more years. Not until the long years of my life are finally spent and I must answer the Doomsman’s call.

Someone huffed outside her room. "Is something amiss?" Y/n put the pin back into its bag when Nitiel knocked and entered.

"The crown prince wishes to see you," Nitiel replied at once. "His steward is without and waits to escort you to the gardens."

This cannot be good. "Did he say what the prince wants of me?"

"He did not," Nitiel shrugged, adding, "It cannot be anything bad, I think. The king would have dealt with you himself if that were the case."

Y/n hid the bag inside her pocket and straightened her apron. "I will come with you."

She followed Nitiel into the kitchens, dipping to her knees when Feren turned to face her. "Ah," he said, pleased. "There she is. Come with me, my lady. The prince wishes to speak with you."

When he offered his arm, she took it and let him lead her out of the kitchen. Feren talked pleasantly enough about the weather, about the autumn flowers that were blooming in the gardens, and about the feast everyone was talking about.

"Who do you think will attend, my lord?" Y/n mused.

"Feren," He said, not unkindly. "Just about everyone in Greenwood the Great will come. I hear the King of Lórien himself is hoping to attend."

Y/n had only heard tales of Amdír, having gone out of her way to avoid straying into his kingdom’s borders. She pressed Feren to tell her more. Thranduil’s steward was more than happy to oblige and kept up a lively chatter until they were in the gardens.

"I hear there will be contests as well."

"Aye. For anyone who is a warrior. The wagers are quite staggering already."

Y/n pondered this and studied Feren more carefully. The elf had light brown hair and a comely face. He was built like an archer, tall and lean with strong arms. He moved like one too, silently and swiftly.

"Will you partake?" she inquired after a while.

Feren smiled. "I am," he began, "in the archery contests. Although I am uncertain how I will stand against more skilled archers than I."

"You will do well, I am sure," y/n answered, and she was rewarded with another smile.

Thranduil was seated comfortably beneath an emerald canopy. There was no one else with him. His father was nowhere to be seen. The crown prince was garbed in embroidered blue velvet slashed with cloth silver. An ornate, gilded sword hung to his side. A table had been set in front of him and filled with all manner of food and drink. A book was open and left to the side. Y/n wondered what it was.

"Lady y/n, my lord," Feren announced softly.

"Thank you, old friend." Thranduil rose, and Feren bowed. He made his excuses and left y/n with the crown prince.

Thranduil tilted his head curtly. "Lady y/n," he said, gesturing for her to sit by him.

Y/n was amazed. First it was Thranduil’s icy but polite manner of address; now it was his invitation for her to sit with him. She obeyed, not wanting to insult him in any way.

"Your highness," she said, dipping her head and keeping her gaze firmly on her lap.

A thick and uncomfortable silence settled over them. Y/n did not mind. She took the opportunity to look around and admire the flowers in bloom, and the greedy little bees that hovered around them, their tiny legs fat with pollen. Birds sang in the trees, and just beneath their song, she could hear the faint roar of the river.

After what felt like an age, Thranduil poured a cup of wine for her before refreshing his own. "I trust you are content with your new appointment?"

"I am," said she, not daring to even take the proffered drink. It could very well be some sort of test, for all she knew. "And I am most grateful to you and your father for letting me stay here."

Thranduil studied her keenly and declared, with haughty disdain, "One such as you ought to be." He ignored y/n’s quiet gasp and continued. "But I did not ask you here to exchange meaningless pleasantries. I have more valuable things to do with my time. Y/n. I believe I do not have to tell you about Mereth Nuin Giliath?"

"It is all anyone talks about in the kitchens," y/n divulged, a little stung by what he said at the beginning. It made her feel like she was undeserving of help.

"Good." Thranduil leaned into his ornate wooden chair and sipped on his wine, not caring if y/n was drinking her own. He certainly made no attempt to ask her to help herself to the food. "Good. Then I must tell you that we are a few hands short, and my father has decided to let you serve and aid the others during the feast and frolics over the coming days. I trust you can manage this."

Y/n did not show the giddy excitement on her face, thinking it might anger him and make him take back his offer. "I can, your highness."

"Good," Thranduil said, turning towards the wide arching doors leading back to the palace. A warrior who was near walked over when the prince beckoned him. "You will be given livery befitting the occasion. Now you must excuse me. Good day, y/n."

"And you, your highness," y/n said and rose. When she walked by Thranduil, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Should misfortune strike anyone during the festivities and you are suspected," Thranduil warned menacingly, "I will show you no mercy."

The prince’s threat was no idle threat. It was a solemn promise. And his grip hurt. Cold fear and pain flashed in y/n’s eyes. She tried to pull her hand away but found that she could not. Thranduil was far too strong. Unable to do anything else, y/n mewled softly and shuddered, whispering, "You are hurting me."

Thranduil let go, his eyes widening at the bruise that had already begun to form. "I…" the prince began, rising from his seat. Y/n rubbed her wrist and sniffed. She glimpsed at the prince and found something akin to shame in his eyes.

"Forgive me," he entreated, taking a step toward her. "I..."

Y/n took a step back. She wanted to go back to the safety of her chamber and nurse her wrist, and was grateful her sleeves were long enough to hide the bruising. There would be no end to the questions of others if they saw, and y/n did not know how she would tell them if they did.

"No need for apologies, your highness," she mumbled sadly and pulled down her sleeve. The prince made no further effort to come near her after that. "One such as me is underserving of your words. Pray tell the king I will be honored to serve during the festivities."

Thranduil merely nodded, and let her walk away.

Tags: @deadlymistletoe @lemonivall @coopsgirl @tigereyesf @thranduilseyebrows @cupids-got-me @jane0error @asianbutnotjapanese

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #x reader #reader insert #thranduil angst #reader angst #greenwood the great #thranduil imagine #amon lanc #the silm #the silm imagine #💫a world of whimsy writes

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dont-blame-it-on-the-kids · 2 months

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Sometimes I think about what LoK could have been had they known they had more seasons from the start. Amon would have been the perfect over arching series bad guy.

They could have really spent more time with Korra struggling with not being able to air bend. And what that means for her, how her spirit got so troubled she can’t connect to the other avatars.

Season two could have never happened

Instead it could have been about her connecting to her avatar spirit and we could still get the whole origin story but without destroying every Avatar before her because ??? Who thought that was even remotely the right move??

In season three we could have more of Lin’s story maybe even got to see her and Su’s fathers.

We could have seen and explored so much more than the ham fisted endings and showing characters give and grow so much only to be cut off at the knees for the plot to progress somewhere else.

We could have seen Suki and Sokka. We could have seen more of Aang and fuck it even more of the Gaang jr as kids. I don’t think we got to see young Bumi Kya and tenzin other than the photo.

I just wish they had the time to detail out this wonderful world they set up with AtLA

Just Imagine a Legend of Korra where they actually planned things out properly and allowed the seasons to work together instead of trying to make a Grande Finale every season.

#so many things I feel would have changed #they wouldn’t have undercut Lin’s sacrifice #they probably would have allowed Asami to be evil for a season then be good #more backstory and korra connecting to the other avatars plot #a better origin for Lin’s scars.#a better bad guy finale for B4 #imagine Amon still a threat in B3 and B4 #imagine Amon taking out the red lotus because they were getting in his way

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amoneki-ramblings · 4 months

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What if they just wore cute outfits together. That’d be so fun, Amon wears a beanie Kaneki is a coffee bean yk, or they wear cool jackets with pretty patterns or Kaneki just woke up at 1pm and Amon visits him during his lunch break and sees him looking like a little ragdoll

think I accidentally got a little off the prompt but. It's cold so. Them in winter clothes :thumbsup: They are comfy :)

#asks #tokyo ghoul #tg #kaneki ken #amon koutarou #amoneki #amoneki doodles #orz drawing amon is. a Struggle for me can you tell #not feeling too good about these ones (like at all) but i am clicking post and closing my eyes #they're going on a coffee date in the first one i'd imagine #last one is in some point in canonverse amon sees that Eyepatch guy who is.#very evidently ill equipped for winter weather. he is Chilly give him a scarf now #hope you enjoy maybe :thumbsup:

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ishgard · 1 month

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On Ybris Island in the Sea of Clouds, a young miqo'te girl stumbled into some strange ruins, within which she discovered a strange young woman...

Awakening after a long, long sleep, it was almost upon sight of the miqo'te that Aria flew into a berserker-like violence. The ensuing, frenzied battle set off a chain of explosions, causing part of the ancient facility to collapse - and sending both women plummeting from the skies to the world below.

Later she would realize what it was that had made her lash out: fear. That girl was like an abyss that would swallow her whole, she was sure of it.

She would devour her first.

#mine #aria bateleur #i'm still fumbling around a bit how much aria Knows because she doesn't know like #about the sundering precisely - but she does have some knowledge of slightly more complex soul stuff #(she was basically an assistant-of-sorts to amon)#and she has a keen awareness that her and mana are intricately connected and mana is the bigger fish here #nudity #ps its so funny to imagine sunshine mana as 'an abyss'#but yeah

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imagineanime2022 · 8 months

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Tokyo Ghoul - Meeting Someone Like Tanjiro

Ken Kaneki X Reader, Nishiki Nishio X Reader, Haise Sasaki X Reader, Koutarou Amon X Reader, Juuzou Suzuya X Reader, Ayato Kirishima X Reader, Uta X Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello!!! Can I request how would the Tokyo ghoul characters would react to a so/ tanjiro like his backstory and his skill all that.

I'm quite curious what would there be reaction for all the shit she when throu and still act sane (cuz let's be honest all of them needs therapy) and her being a pure soul♥️ and just the biggest sunshine ball of hope that can kill your ass

And you can add anything else to the plot just a so/ that is like tanjiro(I love him🤭♥️👹)

General

Your siblings name - (Y/S/N)

You openly explained the reason that you were there, you told him about you going on a trip, you came back to find your family had been killed by a ghoul and your sister barely alive, you took her to the hospital and they used the ‘only’ matching organs they had.

You wanted to protect your sibling so you trained everyday and even stole a weapon, the CCG, the Quinque resembled a katana and had an affinity for water.

No one knew who you or your sister were only that you aligned with no one at the time that your code names were assigned.

You were named Dragonfly and your sibling named Scorpion.

You became known for your fierce protectiveness of each other and the mercy you showed even the fiercest of enemies.

You learned that your sisters Kagune resembled a scorpion and when he blood touched any enemies it tended to burn them.

You yourself have always had a good nose, you always seemed to be able to tell what people were and how they felt just from their scent alone.

Ken Kaneki

☕ Pre-trauma Kaneki was surprised to find that there were any humans in Anteiku, however finding your sibling attached to your leg he could tell immediately that they were a ghoul and that must have been the reason that you were there. ☕ You had ended up wandering into the Anteiku cafe one day and the boss figured out what had happened to you sibling and offered you both a place to stay. ☕ Kaneki felt that you were the closest that he would get to anyone understanding him and you were understanding as well as quick to explain everything and help him understand. ☕ You were nicer than most and your sibling was a breath of fresh air in the world that he seemed to have been thrust into.

You were the first one to get to Kaneki when he stumbled into The Serpent’s hunting ground, your weapon was drawn in seconds as you took the front line “keep him safe (Y/S/N)!” You ordered as you watched The Serpent circle you, you never let him get behind you as you turned to be facing him. “What does this gain you?” “Just a little fun.” He smirked as he dove forward, you knocked him away with the blunt side of your sword. “Fight me!” “I have no reason to fight you.” You declared as you knocked him away again, it was surprising that you had the strength to fight a Ghoul that had been feeding constantly with no help, Kaneki watched in awe as you kept him at bay while not landing a single damaging blow.

It was later that evening when you were sitting with (Y/S/N) they had just fallen asleep and you seemed to be reading something. “Can I ask you something?” Kaneki asked as he stood in front of you. “Course, take a seat.” You prompted as you gestured to the sofa opposite you. “Earlier with Nishiki, you didn’t hurt him, wouldn’t it have been easier if you had fought him properly?” Kaneki asked. “Probably.” You nodded. “Then why didn’t you?” He asked. “He’s hurting too.” You explained. “What?” He asked. “Every person has something in their life worth living for, it’s why they are still breathing, why they keep going, it could be a person, an idea, a dream, a place, it doesn’t matter what it is to them it’s worth fighting for, should I kill someone for doing the same as me?” You asked. “Well I guess not but wouldn’t they just do the same?” Kaneki asked. “To justify by saying they would do the same, is cowardly and selfish, if you don’t believe that it is the right option don’t do it.” You shrugged “look for a different option, it will present itself.” “And when deadly force is the only option?” Kaneki asked. “There will always be times where it’s deserved but even when death is the kindest option it doesn’t have to be painful.” You explained and you looked at him and smiled. “You will be forced to fight but you will learn with experience. And if you even need help I’ll be here to lead you back.”

Nishiki Nishio

🐍 Nishiki is probably one of the most untrusting Ghouls that you will ever meet, through no fault of his own. 🐍 You were the one that Nishiki didn’t trust, your sibling was the ghoul and honestly given the fact that they were relatively new to the whole thing at the time that you met him he was willing to take them under his wing but he wanted nothing to do with you. 🐍 Obviously they weren’t going to leave you so the offer was never taken but he did tell you about the coffee trick to help you sibling through the day. 🐍 As you started making more of a name for yourselves, he silently rooted for you both, hoping that you would succeed in a place that he had only seen failure.

Nishiki had assumed that you and (Y/S/N) had left the area, he hadn’t seen you in a long time and reports on you had dwindled, he continued as he normally would, it wasn’t like you being there was anything that he worried about, these were his hunting grounds anyway. That is until he stumbles on Kaneki feeding in his ground and attempts to attack and kill him, ultimately leading to a fight that he didn’t know that he couldn’t win. It seemed however that there was someone on his side, that someone was you. Your control with the Qinque had improved since he last saw you, using the water that you manipulated to push away the attacker rather than the blade itself. “Leave Rabbit.” You ordered. “I don’t want to hurt you but your next actions will decide mine.” “He started this fight.” The ghoul known as Rabbit answered. “Maybe but now you're going to walk away.” You ordered as you lifted your katana into a defensive stance, however the Rabbit seemed ready for a fight, she dove forward prompting you to do the same, your Quinque clashed with her Kagune however she was the one who came off injured with the water around you Quinque sharpening to cut into her wings, you saw the flash to your right just before your sibling Kagune clashed with the one that struck at your side, their blood landing on and burning the ghoul causing the Rabbit to fall back to his side. “I’ll give you one last chance to leave.” “Let’s go.” She ordered.

“Why did you help me?” Nishiki asked as you looped his arm over your shoulder and helped him stand. “Why wouldn’t I help you, (Y/S/N) appreciated your help.” You answered as you positioned himself better. “Where do you want me to take you?” “Home is fine.” He answered and you nodded as you started on your way, as he told you which direction to go, by the time that you got there, your sibling was standing at the door with a covered tupperware in their hand. “What is that?” “They’ve brought you a little snack.” You said as he opened the door to the apartment, you helped him in before your sibling placed the tupperware in front of him. “Thank you.” He said softly. “You seem like the kind of person who doesn’t say that very often.” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “How’d you get this?” He asked. “We break into places where there are donor bodies, we take the things that others won’t need.” You explained “I keep some of the small stuff for them to snack on but they’ll have one huge feed every couple of months.” “That works?” He asked. “With the help of the coffee, yeah.” You nodded and looked at your sibling who was standing quietly behind you. “They’re okay?” He asked. “Mmm.” You hummed. “You seem to be doing well.” He finally said. “Yeah, we’re doing well.” You confirmed “just maybe keep yourself out of trouble yeah?” “Yeah, yeah.” He muttered and you smiled before heading out of the door, he didn’t know why you were so nice or even if you were going to extend the kindness again but for now he could be thankful that you extended the help.

Haise Sasaki

💼 Haise was probably the one that was closest to your through process on the other side of the field, most ghouls held some kind of contempt for humans so you guys would often be on the same page. 💼 You were very rarely called in for missions with him, given your position however you did always come by to see him and make sure that he and the rest of his team were okay. 💼 Haise always worried that his team would upset you in some way but you always made sure that they were okay and protected them all. 💼 Even if Haise did think a lot like you, there were some things that he didn’t understand, he knew of your past and he often wondered how that had led the person that you were.

The CCG found you and your sibling about a week after everything happened. They were surprised that you were even still alive, and that they hadn’t killed you yet. They wanted your skills but at first they had no use for your sibling, you refused to work for them unless they came with you and while you didn’t like it, you agreed for them to have some of their blood to test.

You both became the poster children for the CCG’s new Quinx programme, it took a little while for them to find others that were suitable for the same programme but as more half ghouls were added, you were phased out, you and (Y/S/N) only going on mission where you were needed, you two were the best at your job, you got thing done quickly and quietly in most cases.

Haise and his squad had been called to take out a small group of Ghouls that had been hunting and killing in the city, they had managed to track down and kill most of the group however the very last and most powerful ghoul seemed to be posing a problem after taking out half the squad only Haise and Urie remained in fighting condition and that was when you were called in, you appearance was quiet almost unnoticed until you cut the achilles tendons of the ghoul forcing him to a kneeling position “Why would you kill all of those people, they did not deserve any of the pain that you brought on them.” You glared at the ghoul kneeling in front of you. “They were weak, they should have killed us before we killed them.” He sneered. “They couldn’t have, even if they wanted to.” You said through gritted teeth as you crouched in front of him. “You should suffer for what you did to them.” “And you are going to make m-?” He never finished the question, your Quinque severing his head from his shoulders. “There would be no point in that.” You muttered, flicking his blood off of your Quinque. “Are you sure he deserved such a merciful end?” Urie asked as you looked at him. “No one is given a choice in the way that they are born and I don’t know what led him here but I doubt it was good based on the scent of his emotion, the least I can do is give him a peaceful end.” You answered. “His scent?” Haise asked. “Mmm.” You hummed as you looked at the dead ghoul. “He smelled like fear. I doubt that they were doing it for themselves, it seems like they were giving most of what they got to someone else.” “They still killed people.” Urie argued. “So have we.” You answered as you crouched next to the ghoul “find your family and rest easy. Come on, it's time to get out of here, the rest of your team needs medical attention or at the very least something to eat.”

Koutarou Amon

🔍 He could not deny that there had been less investigator deaths when they convinced you to join. 🔍 Amon was confused as to why they ever bothered to keep your sibling around, he could not deny that you were a skilled investigator but he saw no use for keeping a pet ghoul. 🔍 That changed after he was spared by Kaneki though, in fact you were the person that he came to after it had happened. 🔍 You were the only person that he felt comfortable asking, hoping that you weren’t going to judge him for his sudden interest and possible change of heart.

You had been given your own office as to keep you sibling away from all the other investigators, most for their safety, you had full confidence in your sibling but most the time they took an attack from the other investigators with no fight back at all, you demanded a place that was safe for them if you were to continue to work with the CCG.

Amon took a deep breath before knocking on the door “Come in Amon!” You called, when he walked in he saw that you were sitting on a sofa in the office, your sibling laying across the rest with their head resting on your lap. “How can I help you?” “I wanted to ask you something.” He said. “Mm.” You hummed, gesturing to one of the other seats in the room. “How did you know that (Y/S/N) could be saved?” He asked. “On the night that I found them, they were hungry, they did jump on me, but they were crying, they recognised me and they didn’t want to hurt me, that was when the CCG found us, it took a lot to get away from the the first time but it’s never happened again.” You explained “there was a place that helped us to figure out some things that could help with hunger and their better now.” “Better?” He asked. “Well they’ve never hurt anyone here have they?” You asked. “I don't think they’ll ever be the same as before but we can get to a better time where we can live together. Why do you ask?” “I had an encounter with a ghoul on my most recent mission.” He started. “Are you okay?” You asked. “I’m fine, actually he didn’t hurt me, my Quinque was broken but he spared me, he could have killed me but he spared me.” He explained. “And you want to know why?” You asked, he was silent and you looked at him and smiled softly. “I don’t know why he did it but I can only assume like you he was fighting to protect someone else, some of them are just trying to live and the moment that we knock down their doors, living turns to surviving. The next time that you see him you’ll have to ask him.” “Ask him?” He asked. “Can we even talk to them?” “Have you tried?” You asked. “I guess not.” He mumbled. “Not all of them will answer but the ones worth saving, protecting they will.” You said softly running your fingers through your siblings' hair with a small smile on your face.

Juuzou Suzuya

🪡 Juuzou is probably the human that you would have the worst time with considering his view on ghouls and their existence. 🪡 He is very much hit now and asks questions later so you’d find it hard to protect your sibling if you weren’t fighting to kill him. 🪡 He is unlikely to understand anything of the values that you live by and wouldn’t take a second to think about them either, might even mistake you for a ghoul as well. 🪡 You’ve never been one to give in easily and the fact that you kept getting back up was bothering Juuzou to no end.

“(Y/S/N) run!” You yelled, they turned for the exit of alley and you dove into Juuzou’s path to stop him from getting to them, knocking his scythe away and allowing the knife he had thrown to hit your shoulder instead of continuing the path to your siblings head. “Why would you do that?” Juuzou whined “it’s a ghoul, it’ll only end up killing you.” “That’s not true.” You mumbled as you pushed him away, his back hitting the wall as you created some distance, lifting your Quinque, he frowned. “Where did you get that?” He asked. “Stole it, I would do anything to protect them.” You answered as he dove forward swinging the scythe with practised precision, you dodged not once using your Quinque for anything other that blocking a hit you were fast enough to dodge. “I have to get back to them.” You stood steading yourself when you realised that they were not going to be able to convince him that you weren’t here to hurt anyone. You swung your Quinque the water that wrapped around the blade branching out in an attack, Juuzou dodge most of the attacks but a few landed, you lifted the Quinque ready for the finishing blow “I understand that you were only doing your job but would you let me go if I turned away from you now?” “Never.” Juuzou sneered. “As I thought.” You sighed, you pulled back the blade taking in a deep breath. “Stop!” You turned to another CCG officer who was holding your sibling as they kicked and tried to get away, you took the dagger from your shoulder and threw it at the officer. In that second Juuzou kicked your feet out from underneath you using another dagger to stab straight through your hands. The scorpion tail that you had come to know very well made itself known at that moment, easily separating (Y/S/N) from the officer holding her. “Shinohara!” Juuzou yelled as (Y/S/N) took the place in front of you standing with their arm out Kagune at the ready to protect you. You pushed yourself up from your position on the floor, hands still pinned together with the dagger. “Just leave us alone… Please.” You pleaded. “Juuzou it’s time to leave.” The man, Shinohara said. “But-” “Now Juuzou let’s go.” He ordered.

Juuzou met you again later when the CCG took you both in as the first of the Quinx programme “your still alive?” He asked. “No thanks to you.” You said holding your hands to show the scars from your previous encounter. “I’m impressed your pet hasn’t bitten you yet.” He smirked and you glared at me. “They aren’t a pet, they’re my family.” You corrected him. “I don’t understand you.” He murmured as he looked at your sibling who’s Kagune lashed protectively. “I’m more than willing to help you understand if you give us a chance.” You explained. “Well you're here anyway.” He mumbled with a shrug and even if it wasn't an open answer you were looking for it was better than nothing.

Ayato Kirishima

🐇 Ayato understood the need to protect your sibling, he had done a lot to keep his sister safe after all. 🐇 You both did it in different ways but you both wanted the same result, you however seemed to disregard your own health quite a lot if it meant that your sibling was going to be okay. 🐇 Aogiri Tree wanted your sibling but they didn’t want you, they had been trying to split you both up since learning of their existence. 🐇 When all of the other failed they sent Ayato however he didn’t succeed on the first attempt either.

“Who are you?” You asked. “Me? None of your business, no one needs to get hurt if you just give them over.” Ayato jutted his head in the direction of your sibling. “Would you give over your brother or sister if they asked?” You asked. “What does that matter?” He asked. “You wouldn’t would you?” You shook your head “I can tell.” “What the hell are you talking about?” He asked, you saw his centre of mass shift he was getting ready to attack. “You have a sibling don’t you? You’ve kept them away.” You said and he moved forward you blocked his kick with the flat of your arm, slipping back only slightly as you looked at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt them, I just thought that we could be friends, you know, since we share an interest.” You explained. “Friends? You want to be friends with someone who was sent to kill you?” He asked. “You don’t want to kill me though, do you?” You asked. “How can you be so sure of that?” He asked. “I’ve seen your work, I’d be dead by now if you wanted me dead.” You explained as you pushed him away from you. “I’m not letting you get away from me.” Ayato informed you and you looked at him and nodded. “We know.” You said at the same time that your siblings leg came into contact with the side of his face, knocking him out. You sighed as you crouched in front of him lifting him onto the sofa in the abandoned building, you wrote a quick note before grabbing some of you clothes and leaving with your sibling.

Ayato groaned as he woke up rubbing at his temple, his eyes landing on the note on the table:

I really hope we can be friends, come find me if you change your mind.

He had no idea why you thought that you, a human, thought that you could be friends with him, a ghoul but he wouldn’t be entertaining you… Or so he thought.

Hideyoshi Nagachika

🚲 Hide loved you both, he saw you as hope for the future that he wanted, for him and Kaneki, you were how he proved to Kaneki that it could work. 🚲 He found out about you when he was working for the CCG but the challenge was finding you, you were very good at hiding yourself and your sibling when the time called for it. 🚲 When he finally found you he pleaded his case with you and you were fast friends especially after he and your sibling became friends. 🚲 You kept a close eye on him where you could and you were there when he needed someone to help him.

You would have been able to smell the blood even if you didn’t have an exceptional sense of smell, you walked into the old sewer system and found Hide and the boy you assumed was Kaneki, you ignored the Ghoul you could tell that he was already healing, your crouching in front of Hide “you're too kind for this world.” You said softly as you lifted him from the floor. “Kaneki…” He said, you looked back at the Ghoul. “He’s not ready to come back yet.” You said “he’ll come home, I know he will but we have to focus on making sure that you are there when he does.” “He’s okay?” Kaneki asked. “He’s healing, he will be fine, what you have done for him will bring him back I promise.” You said as you turned away from the Ghoul to get Hide to someone that you knew could help him.

You waited for him to wake up, he took a while to come around given the injuries no one was surprised “you're still here?” Hide asked. “I remember you saying we were friends, you make sure that your friends are okay, I can leave if you want me to.” You said. “No, that's not what I meant.” He said “it’s just I don’t expect that I look pretty.” “I thought you were cute before and you still are, but past that it doesn’t matter what your body is, it matters what your soul is.” You explained. “I don’t know what to do next.” He admitted. “Well, we’ll be here until you know and I’ll help you wherever I can.” You promised. “You… You will?” He asked. “You believe in me and (Y/S/N), we believe in you and Kaneki and we’re all going to make a world that we can live in together.” You promised, putting your pinky finger out. “Good plan?” “Yeah.” He said, choking out a laugh and you nodded “good then get some rest, you have healing to do so we can get to work changing the world.”

Uta

🎭 You were the one that found Uta, you needed masks for you and your sibling, with the code names that you were given you knew it was only a matter of time before the CCG came looking for you. 🎭 You entered the shop and asked him about the masks while your sibling looked around the room, you were sure that he knew they were a Ghoul and you weren't. He was watching you carefully. 🎭 He had heard about you by now, so he knew about your family and your unique abilities. 🎭 He was convinced that you gained something from keeping your ghoul sibling around, he wasn’t sure what but couldn’t simply believe that you were together for familial love.

“What do you earn from this?” Uta asked as he looked at you. “Um, the CCG doesn’t see my face.” You answered frowning at the question. “Not the mask, keeping your sibling around.” He jutted his head to your sibling who was looking at one of the masks on the shelf. “Gain?” You asked “nothing, they're my family so I’ll protect them with everything that I have.” “Even though they aren’t human anymore and they could kill because they had a bad day?” He asked. “Anyone could kill me for a bad day, we’ve been living like this for months.” You shrugged “I trust them and they trust me.” “Trust them?” He asked with a smirk as he stepped forward his tall stature crowding you, it only took a second for your siblings Kagune to wrap around your shoulder poised to stab him should he move in a way that concerned them. “They protect you the same way that you protect them?” He asked as he turned his attention to your sibling. “You know all it takes is one wrong move and suddenly you won’t have a sister, you’ll be all on your own with no one.” Uta said and you narrowed your eyes, hand falling the Quinque on your hip and he smirked. “You are interesting. You’ll be the talk of the town soon.” “Are you going to make the masks or not?” You asked, “Of course, come back next week the same day, they’ll be ready.” He promised, you stepped away from him. “Come on.” You put your hand out to your younger sibling and as he watched you.

“You came back…” He smiled as he turned his chair so that he was looking at you. “How much do I owe you?” You asked. “On the house.” He waved you off. “Change of heart?” You asked. “Investment in entertainment.” He answered as he handed you the two masks that he had made. “Entertainment?” You asked. “I don’t believe that what you are trying to do will work.” He answered honestly. “The world is too far gone for that but I want to see you try.” “You want to see me fail.” You grumbled. “How about I give you a job here?” He suggested. “Why would you do that?” You asked. “What other job is going to allow you to bring your ghoul to work?” He asked, you both looked over at your sibling and he waved. “I’m sure I can teach her some things about surviving too, make it easier for both of you.” He suggested. “Fine.” You answered “thank you.” “Why are you thanking me? It’s not like it did this out of the goodness of my heart.” He reminded you. “Well you didn’t have to do it at all, so a thank you is due.” You answered “when do I start?” “How about right now?” He asked.

Request Here!!

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theslowesthnery · 5 months

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Can you imagine tarnished Amon in the lands between? Showing up in Mohgwyn palace and bloodbending in front of Mohg? The chaos it could cause!

mohg would go

"please join my cult"

#elden ring for blacklist #though the moment amon used that on mohg he'd get killed #i can imagine the sensation of being bloodbent being similar to having the shackle used on him so

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firelords-honour · 3 months

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Some of us (including myself) have HCs that before the revolution got going Amon was a vigilante, or is a vigilante in AUs, and I just had a thought: what if the whole mask thing was originally inspired by the infamous legend of the Blue Spirit?

#bro wait #the blue spirit would’ve been remembered as a nonbender #what if the equalists used that legend as one of their symbols #okay #now imagine old man zukos reaction #amon #Zuko #the legend of korra #the blue spirit #atla #tlok

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kaiowut99 · 24 days

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GX Finalized-Subs!111 and 121 (WIP): Drizzling Details - For Clicks

Reprising the edit I worked on here while finalizing my 106 subs, I wanted to go ahead and knock out adding this updated translation edit into 111 and 121 as I get ready to work on 110. This gets used in 111 as Manjoume tries to look Amon up, and in 121 as Amon looks to delete it while on that submarine, and while I did previously translate these in my last run through Season 3, as I'm going with "Garam Conglomerate" and not "Garam Finance," along with the other updates I made in the 106 version, I wanted to update this accordingly for consistency. And still having the Photoshop files handy from my 106 edit, this was a relatively smooth process all told. I also went ahead and made dub versions of these, since of course 4Kids not only removed the text (they amusingly just slapped a card back where his info is lol), but they also cut the one shot of the Garam Conglomerate article Manjoume clicks onto. (I may use it for reasons at some point hehe)

All in all, I think it just took me a day or two to do since I had a relatively calm weekend; final products in gif form below (to keep each gif at 35 frames, I split the second 111 clip into two gifs; sub-intended edit on the left, dub-intended on the right)--and a breakdown under the cut for the interested 🙂 I did choose to leave the HTTP 405 error screens Manjoume gets as-is like I did before, partly the English text already there works well enough (the Japanese message is more "This page cannot be loaded"), partly Manjoume's raging thunder later would make it a bit annoying, lol.

Effectively, for the 111 version, working off the full version of the bio I mocked up before, I first tweaked the bio text up top to color the originally-link-colored text accordingly, then saved that, cropped to what's shown in Manjoume's screen. Then, from there, I worked on the first clip it's used in, first cropping out the top portion of the text (from Amon's name to the "Goa Garam" line) and using the CC Power Pin effect in AfterEffects (also how I apply my card fixes) to pin that cropped image into place as the text expands outward for the first few frames; after that, I used Sony Vegas to keyframe the screen's scrolling for the rest of the shot, masking in the monitor's borders on top for blending.

For the second shot in 111, where we see a close-up of the text as Manjoume clicks into the Garam Conglomerate article, I first wiped the text in Photoshop, then copied over the needed text layers from the full bio, making sure to space the lines at roughly how they were spaced in the full bio. I then copied out the "C" in "CEO" on the second-to-last line to hold it in place, then duplicated the "Garam Conglomerate" line and recolored the copy to a clicked-link purple, recreating a purple outline around it--both the unclicked and clicked versions come into play once I throw them into Vegas, where I then masked in the cursor arrow and hand as Manjoume moves his mouse. For the Garam Conglomerate article, a simple text wipe and translation placement happened in Photoshop, then I took that and threw it into the footage in Vegas.

Finally, for the 121 version, since it uses the full no-link bio, I first recolored the blanking I did to the bio in Photoshop to match its color here, then used the CC Power Pin in AfterEffects to pin it as it expands for a few frames, masking in the edges of the bio box and the new Amon photo this screen uses. After I did that, I just did some positioning checks against the original, and then it was good to go without popping into Vegas.

For applying the dub edit to each instance, since I'd already done the video keyframing work for the sub-intended full bio image, once I adjusted the text layers with the dub references and saved that new dub-intended image, I just needed to copy/paste the keyframes and effects I applied to the sub-intended image in both AE and Vegas, so it was a pretty easy swap, lol.

#GX #yugioh #yugioh gx #ygo #ygo gx #Amon Garam #Adrian Gecko #subbing rambling #my love for this show is like an ojama #[if i had thought about more i could've done an april fools with this dangit]#[imagine Amon booping you instead]

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howhow326 · 10 days

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I wonder how many people will be mad that I made this

#atla #lok #atlaposting #bloodbending #no cuz this is a completely nonlethal technique that instantly restrains your opponents #it ends fights before they even start #if you cannot see the value in that #or worse #discount it entirely as “evil” because its too spoopy for you #...yeah it sounds like a u problem #“but hama yakone tarlock amon-#quick question: when was the last time anyone died from bloodbending?#because I can think of plenty of times people died from firebending #and lightning bending #this is not to say Katara was wrong fron banning it #if I was in her shoes I would have limited the knowledge of it as much as possible #it is as hama said: bloodbending is the ultimate power #but I don't see the harm in like teaching it to an Avatar for peacekeeping's sake #imagine all the fights Korra could have ended with bloodbending in her show

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 9 months

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“A Better Future” Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Elf/Noldor |Third Person POV)

Themes: Angst. Read at your own discretion.

Warnings: Brief mentions of war and injuries | Hair loss as a form of punishment

Wordcount : 2.8k words

Summary: Thranduil brings y/n to Greenwood the Great and Amon Lanc. His father calls for an inquiry.

A/n: I thought of adding the hair loss event written in this post.

Y/n’s plea was partly inspired by Catherine of Aragorn’s speech at the Legatine Court of Blackfriars.

Thranduil’s POV

The days had been hot, the days had been windy, and the days finally grew cold even as they traveled. One season waned while the other waxed, brilliant and glorious as ever. The leaves of Greenwood the Great were turning vivid shades of orange and gold and crimson by the time Thranduil and his retinue rode down familiar paths to Amon Lanc. The crown prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath of sweet-smelling autumn air. The delicate scents of wild geraniums and asters mingled with the duskier scents of fallen leaves and wet bark and fresh moss. The birds sang softly. An owl hooted in the distance. A gentle gust of wind tossed his hair. He sighed in contentment. It was wonderful to be home again.

That sweet feeling slowly disappeared when he looked over his shoulder and his gaze rested on y/n. She kept to herself and rode a little away from the others. Thranduil’s mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. Y/n’s very presence in Amon Lanc would unleash a storm upon his head, and his lord father would be the one to do it.

My father is a forgiving man, Thranduil thought, but I cannot see him forgiving this.

Thranduil did not need to be told the reason. He was there during the second kinslaying. He bore arms and helped his father carve a way out for survivors. His scars lay hidden beneath his robes. The memories from that dark time still haunted his dreams.

And he did not understand why he put himself through such trouble. Oh, the gold itself was never an issue. The final sum was but a drop in the ocean that was now the royal treasury. Thranduil did not understand why he stopped when he heard the gossip and why he rode on to the auction house. He certainly did not understand what compelled him to save her. She was one of the exiles. Her father served under Celegorm. There were dark tales surrounding his deeds, including the part he supposedly played in the seizure of Dior’s children. Thranduil shivered.

Wolves, all of them. And now I bring one of their pups to my Lord Father’s doors.

He looked over his shoulder at y/n again. The masters of the auction house answered his questions as best they could. Y/n had played no part in the slaughter, so they said, and had been forced to wander the land for longer than she could remember. She had no armor and wielded no arms. What little coin she had went to keeping her clothed and fed. She placed herself at the mercy of a man who turned out to be a slaver in the end. Kept perfectly still while that wretched Lady Githa grabbed her and looked her over like she was nothing more than a horse for sale. After having been given food and drink and new garments, she stood to the side, silent and meek, while Thranduil spoke with the masters of the auction house and the final flourish was given to the matter of coin. During their journey, y/n did not speak to any of them the entire time. When they set up camp, she was quiet. When they broke bread, she was quiet. When they sang and laughed and exchanged stories, she was quiet. Oh, she helped, of course, always appearing by Thranduil’s shoulder before he even realized he needed some task carried out. Y/n was quick and did her duties well, but without uttering a sound. She did not even dare look any of them in the eye. If she was grateful to them for what they did, she did not show it.

Thranduil felt his hands turn to fists. Wretched thing, he thought bitterly. Unable to muster a single word of gratitude.

He could not linger on such misgivings. The gates to his father’s halls soon loomed ahead of them. The first autumn rain started to fall, drenching the dark earth and feeding the rivers and streams. The air grew crisp and cool. Thranduil reveled in this as well and threw off his hood so he could feel the fat drops of water plop over his skin. He heard a familiar bellow. His lord father had ridden out to greet them. Oropher sat atop his milky white courser, clad in velvet robes of gold and silver. Thranduil sighed. His father was in a high mood this day, and he was sure to dampen it with his news. He sat up straight and girded himself before racing ahead to meet his king and sire.

Oropher heard his son out on the ride back to his halls. And Oropher bit his tongue until he and his son were safely ensconced within the walls of his council room. And when the doors closed on them Oropher did not hold back, not by any measure. The king was exceedingly wroth, purpling and raging for hours on end. Thranduil acted without his father’s leave and freed the child of a kinslayer. He had promised gold from the royal coffers for this very purpose. Brought her with him to Greenwood, and possibly endangered them all.

"And now we may have to feed and house the lady," Oropher declared after having taken a while to finally compose himself. Attendants walked in carrying trays filled with refreshments. The king waited until they had taken their leave before speaking again. "Since you made yourself responsible for her and she truly has nowhere else to go," he turned to face his son. "Tell me, my son. What even compelled you to save her?"

What indeed. Throughout their journey, Thranduil had reflected on his actions and failed to devise an answer that could satisfy anyone, least of all himself. "I do not know, my lord," he confessed. "All I do know is that I could not simply ride away and abandon her to her fate. You know of Lady Githa, and what her pleasure house is like."

"To be sure," Oropher wrinkled his face in distaste. "That woman is one of the most evil creatures to have ever been birthed by one of the Edain."

He rejoined his son at the council table and took his customary place at the head of it. Oropher steepled his fingers beneath his chin and soon lost himself in deep thought. Thranduil did not utter a word while his father sat as if he had been hewed out of stone. Oropher was reflecting on the choices he had had to make; his son was certain of it.

"I may consider letting her stay," Oropher finally said, "but we need to learn how much she knew of her father’s actions. Send word to my courtiers and have them all meet me in the throne room. I believe an inquiry is in order."

An hour later, Thranduil took his place by his father’s right hand. He watched while members of the court and other elves poured into the cavernous throne room. Guards stood to attention, spears and shields in hand, and clad in gleaming armor chased in green and gold. The lamps burned as brightly as they always did. Y/n was escorted by a small complement of armed warriors. She was made to drop to her knees while the others watched. Y/n bowed her head, silent and respectful. Thranduil heard hushed, excited tones. There had never been an inquiry before. No one had done anything to even justify the need for one.

Many of the elves studied y/n with barely disguised curiosity. Save for the survivors of Doriath, very few had encountered the exiles. Now they were seeing one for the first time in the flesh. The court scribes took their appointed places, parchment and quills and new ink already placed upon their little tables. They would write down every word spoken at the inquiry and preserve the records for the use of others. Once Oropher had been satisfied with the number of witnesses, he called the inquiry to order.

The king leaned forward and began with the usual questions: questions about y/n’s life, her home, and her family. Y/n answered as best as she could. She spoke of their home, about her father, about her mother. Oropher questioned y/n about the sons of Fëanor, and if her father or mother had ever hosted them in their home. Y/n withered under the king’s sharp gaze, but there was nothing she could do but answer.

"Lord Celegorm would sometimes dine with father," y/n replied after a great deal of hesitancy. "Other times, Lord Curufin would join him."

"I see." Oropher frowned. "And were you a party to these gatherings?"

"No… your grace," y/n answered in fits and starts, as if her tongue had tied itself up in knots. "My father… he said he thought I was too young to be privy to such discussions."

"But did you meet either of these lords?"

"Yes. My father… he introduced me to them. And to others in their retinue."

Oropher was curious, as was Thranduil. "Pray tell me why?"

Y/n faltered. A guard thumped the butt of his spear into the ground, forcing her to answer. "My… my father had hopes of my marrying one of Lord Fëanor’s unwed sons… or… or the grandson."

"Your father entertained the notion of you marrying one of them?" Oropher shot back bluntly. "And you would have agreed had any of them asked for your hand?"

Y/n swallowed, and said, "Yes, your grace. Many an… unwed maiden in our clans would have… c-considered it an honor. They were of Lord Fëanor’s b-blood after all."

Thranduil sputtered and would have retorted had his father not given him a look of warning. He composed himself and heard the king say, "An honor? Were you ignorant of the things they did before the second kinslaying?"

"Everyone knew… your grace," y/n replied, her eyes wide with fear. "M-mothers would tell their children tales of Alqualondë and the great crossing. They… they all believed in Lord Fëanor’s cause."

"Do you believe in Lord Fëanor’s cause to retrieve the hallowed jewels no matter what the cost?" Oropher asked in harsh tones. "And do not lie to me. Life in Amon Lanc will go very badly for you if you do."

Y/n did not answer, not for a long while, not until Oropher harrumphed with impatience. "I… I did… at the beginning," she confessed. "The… the silmarils were Lord Fëanor’s by right… after all."

The uproar that followed from the survivors was deafening. Some demanded that y/n be sent away from Amon Lanc. Others demanded that she be thrown into a cell for the remainder of her days. More warriors thumped the butts of their spears against the polished stone floor to bring about some order to the proceedings. The sounds they made were drowned out by the cries of angry elves. Oropher’s face darkened even as he remained silent. Thranduil prickled with anger and decided to put an end to the clamor.

"Enough!" he bellowed. The others turned to face him and his father, having quietened themselves little by little. The scribes all turned as one to face the prince, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I was right," the prince went on. There were soft scratching noises from quills scrawling over thick parchment. "Your lot is nothing but a pack of wolves, forever on the prowl for your next prey. I would even go as far to wager you may be no better than your father and the masters he served."

Y/n flinched back as if she had been slapped. "But… but you saved me from her," she sniffed.

"Yes," Thranduil replied, unmoved by the sorrow in her eyes. Still, he felt strange when she spoke to him directly. It was the first time she had done so since he purchased her freedom. "I confess, however, that I do not know the reason why."

"Tis is a question for another time," Oropher interceded. "Let us carry on with the proceedings for now. Lady y/n, do you have anything to add? Anything you wish to say in your defense?"

Y/n looked around her and shivered. "I do not know… your grace." She wrung her hands and picked at the beds of her nails before turning her gaze to the floor. "I… I only knew what my father and mother told me. As for what… my father did in Doriath… I did not know what he was going to do until after the act. Mother and I only learned of it after he was slain. I… do not ask for much… save for some compassion… for I was born somewhere other than this kingdom, and have neither coin nor friend to my name. I... all I ask is for a safe place to stay… and I will be… well pleased and content with whatever kindness that…that is given to me. But if you do not wish for me to stay here you… you need only say the word, your grace. I will depart… and manage. Somehow."

Oropher sat there with his sharp gray eyes pining her to where she stood. He grew silent again, this time debating his verdict. Later, it was said that the silence that followed was so heavy that it weighed down on everyone present.

"Will you swear to never take up arms against us?" The king spoke slowly.

"Yes," she whispered.

Oropher nodded. "And will you be content with whatever task that is given to you while you remain with us?"

Y/n hesitated, but gave her answer to the king. "Yes. I… I will be content. And g-grateful."

"Grateful?" Thranduil snorted bitterly. "Like the gratitude you showed us after we saved you from that vile place?"

Y/n was startled. She opened her mouth to form a reply, and struggled to find the right words. Thranduil glanced at his father. The king had grown weary. It showed in the shadows beneath his eyes. Oropher sighed softly and signaled for the guards to help her to her feet.

"I have come to a decision, but it is not a decision I make lightly," the king began. "Y/n, you may stay here with us, and you will make yourself useful in the kitchens and serve us."

The relief on her face was palpable.

"But," Oropher raised a hand and continued, clearly not finished with his verdict. "I need to make an example of you, should other followers of the sons of Fëanor turn up at our door. They need to see that our mercy does not come freely. Therefore, I have decided your hair must be shorn. Just above the neck should do."

Y/n lowered her head and trembled. "I accept."

It did not take long to find two ellith willing to carry out the king’s verdict. All those who had gathered in the throne room looked in silence while they came forth, each holding a golden pair of scissors in their hands. One stood by y/n’s right, and the other stood to her left. They turned to face the king. When Oropher gestured, they went straight to work.

Pins were removed. Braids slowly loosened. All anyone heard after that was the crisp, snip snip snip of two pairs of scissors clicking. The elves watched, utterly enthralled by the scene unfolding before their eyes. Lustrous long hair was seen as the ideal when it came to elven beauty, and to have even a little cut as a form of punishment was both debasing and humiliating. And elven hair took so long to grow out. Y/n’s hair would take years to grow back to its former glory, and if it saddened her, she did not show it, not at that moment. Y/n simply stood like a stone statue while thick locks of her hair slowly drifted to the floor and gathered in small clumps.

Snip snip snip. More hair had to be cut. The ellith worked effortlessly until y/n’s hair was just beneath her chin and a small pile had formed around her feet. Y/n did not speak, and she did not raise her voice to curse them. She simply bowed her head and endured the entire time. When they were finally finished, when they put away their scissors and stepped away, she lifted her head. Her lips had been quivering, and her eyes had been filled with unshed tears. Thranduil shifted uncomfortably in his seat after having experienced a sudden pang of conscience. He had called her a wolf, but was she truly one? Or was she simply guilty of being born into the wrong family?

"Find yourself a room in the servants’ quarters," Oropher ordered. "Appropriate clothing will be provided to you, as well as food. You will start your duties on the morrow."

The guards took her to hand and escorted her through the crowd and down a narrow passageway leading to the kitchens and the servants’ rooms. A maid rushed into the hall and swept away the shorn locks of hair. The throne room was beginning to empty. The elves talked about the inquiry and what transpired before they departed for their dwellings. The scribes sanded their parchment before rolling each and every one of them carefully. Once the great hall had been cleared of all the other elves, Oropher leaned over to whisper in his son’s ear.

"Keep a close eye on her," he commanded. "We cannot take any chances."

Thranduil nodded in agreement.

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