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Amon/Korra, Amorra meets a handsome waterbender

Since Noatak wouldn't be recognized by anyone in Republic City when walking around without a mask AND scar, he does sometimes take walks in its streets as himself.

Korra meets and becomes friends with a handsome, kind waterbender and many things about him remind her of home. He's much, much older than her and feeling attracted to him is more than a little awkward and strange, but she can't help the way she feels. The waterbender appears to feel the same way. Sex happens.

Bonus points if they're hiding it from Tenzin because he really wouldn't be down with his pupil having sex with a man his age.

More bonus points if Noatak is using the relationship to spy on Korra but developing real feelings for her anyway.

MASSIVE bonus points for writing the scene where the water washes away "Amon's" scar and Korra realizes who her lover really is.

That would be Korra meets a handsome waterbender

*facepalm* Nice Freudian slip I got there.

Re: Amon/Korra, Amorra meets a handsome waterbender

Seconding with a fiery passion.

Re: Amon/Korra, Amorra meets a handsome waterbender

I love this prompt

would Noatak have to change his voice though?

..... ON IT.

It may take a minute though.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (1/?)

"So are you going to bother to learn the basics? Or aren't you?"

"I've got the basics. Why don't you teach me something useful?"

"You're still stepping over the line!"

Korra vented fire. "One time! And I fixed that stance, one time out of twenty!"

"One time out of twenty will still get you carded!" Mako ripped the helmet from his head and threw it to the ground.

"Teamwork!" Bolin interjected. He inserted himself between the two of them. Suddenly the gym had become quite tense. "Team thoughts, team feelings. We're a team! I know, let's sing our fight song--Hrrrungh! It's really warm in here! Must be some Fire Ferrets--"

"When Korra wants to train as a team, I'll be ready," Mako said, turning on his heel and marching out of the gym to the men's locker. "We're the Fire Ferrets, not the Fire Ferrets and the Avatar."

He slammed the door on his way. Korra made a frustrated half-scream, and hurled a jet of water at the innocent door. She panted, too angry really to move. Bolin crept up behind her.

"He's starting to warm up to you," Bolin offered, hopefully.

Korra tossed her helmet at the door, too, for good measure.

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Re: Amon/Korra, Amorra meets a handsome waterbender

Oh god this is
really good
i need it like burning.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (26/?)

request from OP to reply to original prompt for reasons of visual comfort, etc. i hope i get all the numbering right ;-; lj you are just a sparkling paragon of web design, aren't you

He held out his arms to his sides in a broad shrug, palms up. "You haven't done anything to change that."

Korra scooted herself off the edge of the table. She was the instigator, the seductress, even, but having never undressed a man with the intent to "do him," she felt a little nervous. She wondered if she looked silly or sexy. She supposed she was about as good at seducing as she was at being the Avatar. She had to stay resolved, or he would read it as uncertainty and probably try to call it off.

She still didn't know where to start. She had no idea what he would like her to do. Korra steadied herself, and thought Get his clothes off first, then worry about that.

It wasn't difficult. He held still for her, and let her strip him to the waist before she became distracted--it was her turn for lust. Shyness struck as she undid his belt. His arousal was obvious now, but she still had no clue how to please him. The novel and the talk overheard from the guardsmen seemed too outlandish to be applicable, and Katara's staid descriptions of insertion, fertilization, and conception were not at all what she wanted to inspire in him.

"Oh," she said.

"What's wrong?"

Korra didn't know if she could continue without putting him off. She scratched her neck, feeling foolish, standing nude in front of him, foundering for words.

"I don't have anything to keep from ... you know." She couldn't quite say it.

He kissed her forehead, lingering there for a brief moment. "I'll worry about that."

She breathed deeply. "Okay."

He held her by the shoulders, forcing her to make eye contact. "Are you--"


It was too humiliating to admit, but she was completely out of her element. Korra looked down between them, putting a hand on his stomach, dragging her fingers lightly downward. She liked other people's bodies. She was an athletic girl, and she appreciated it in men, especially. She wondered what she was intimidated by, why she let it stop her. Her body remembered his hand inside her, it ached with emptiness. It was time to strike.

Korra knelt, dropping down so fast he took a small step back. She grabbed his thighs, the nearest part of him, to keep him where she wanted. She breathed in again. She stuck her fingers into the waist of his pants and pulled resolutely downward.

She was foiled by his wrapping, this time, but the worst, by far, was over. He inhaled, balancing against her shoulders, as her fingers searched for the stupid knot, furiously picking it undone. It was like waterbending. She had to keep going with the flow, once she started.

Any hesitation would end her streak. She remembered how good his tongue felt on her, and so as soon as she could see his cock, she licked it. It was a little longer than her hand, wrist to middle fingertip, hard to the touch, and darker than the rest of him.

He laughed, just once, but Korra's composure was ruined. She burned red, and he seemed to realize her confidence was less than what she pretended. Looking up at him, she thought that he might be feeling a little awkward as well. That was a comforting thought. He cupped her cheek with his hand.

"Korra," he said, appearing to struggle for the right thing to say. She was reminded of the liqueur, where he laughed at her in Yajiu's. Had he been thinking of something like this? "I'm sorry. Please, keep going."

This time he appeared to understand her apprehension. He guided her, his hand placed at the back of her neck, the other tangling in her hair. Korra took him in her mouth.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (27/?)

Korra hadn't expected giving head to be awful, but she never guessed just how much she would like it. She preferred action, she preferred doing things, and she really preferred hearing him. He directed her, wordlessly, to do more complicated things; stroking the parts of it she couldn't fit in her mouth, for instance, or where to use her tongue. She liked getting him excited. His fingers were caught in her hair, he was tense all over.

She tilted her head upwards, to see his face, eyes partway shut, breathing unsteadily. Korra took him out of her mouth, running her fingers down the length. The throbbing was back, in between her legs. There was something in her, filling up with desire, something she needed to prick open and release.

"I really need you, now," she told him, desperately. She rocked against his leg, pressing her breasts against him.

"Do you want a bed?" he asked, hoarsely, squeezing the flesh of her shoulder.

Korra's mind spun, unable to understand him for a moment. She nodded. Where else could it happen? She thought about the table, the wall, the chair. The idea thrilled her. She wanted it everywhere, but guessed that for the very first time, she should be somewhere comfortable.

"Go," he said, pointing through the doorway.

Korra bolted for it. There was no need to run; she wanted what was coming after her, but she was pulsing with energy, with anticipation. She found on the other side of the wall a small area with a low futon-like bed, narrow but broad enough to accommodate at least him. It had been made a long time ago, and she tumbled across it, disrupting the heavy, plain gray blankets and the film of dust across it.

He followed. At some point he had found time to actually remove his boots. Korra felt strangely jubilant. It was right that they should both, finally, be naked. Korra eyed his strong limbs, his shoulders. Her body writhed across the blanket, very nearly out of her control. He was almost too calm in contrast, but his hands were shaking, she knew he wanted her, he thought she was beautiful. She knew he cared about her, she could feel that he didn't want to hurt her, and that was why he was moving so, very, slow--

He knelt, moved between her legs, and entered as she threw her arms around his neck to bring him closer, pulling him in deep. Korra cringed. She refused to whimper, or cry out, but it hurt, it stung. He watched her face carefully. His eyes narrowed, concentrating on something distant from her--she didn't know what. The pain faded in less than a second, like something had moved around in her and made room. Her body, rigid with pain, relaxed. He breathed out.

Korra thrust up, and in, levering herself against his body. She moaned. It felt amazing, after the pain had gone. She knew she would love the feeling of having someone inside her, of having him fill her up, for the rest of her life. He returned to her from whatever mental place he had gone, and grasped her backside with bruising strength. That sort of pain, she realized, was fine, she liked it. He knocked her on her back, taking over the rhythm of it.

She closed her eyes, and let her arms fall over her face, bringing her hips up to meet him. He hit, reliably, a spot within her that made her both numb and flush with warm pins and needles. His hands touched her breasts, rolling them with his palms. Korra breathed hard, aware that all those high, whining noises were hers. She was no longer wholly in control of what her body did.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (28/?)

She fought to sit up, swatting away his hands when he tried to set her on her back. Her ponytail had come undone, and her hair fell around her shoulders in a tangle. She kissed him, his jaw, his mouth, his neck, any part that she encountered.

He lifted Korra up, suddenly, and threw her down. She yelped at the separation, the emptiness, the surprised of falling to her side. But he followed, in her again, this time with her half turned away. She understood what he was doing, now. He held her firmly at the waist, thrusting deep into her.

Korra screamed. He hesitated, perhaps worried, she could feel his touch grow gentle, he was so sweet to her, but she bucked, pressing her face in the blankets and begged, "No, don't stop!"

Her body was on fire. She let him touch her, stroke her sides, kiss her hair, but she needed something almost violent to satisfy her. She couldn't hear herself urging him on over the pounding of blood in her ears.

It wasn't enough. "Let me be on you," she told him. Somehow she was on her knees, upright, forcing him down, overwhelming him.

He grabbed her elbows, pulled her down on top of him. They kissed. She moved to straddle him more effectively, but for a moment he could hold her there, close to him, her body crushed over his.

"You're a force of nature," he said, panting. She kissed him again, combing her hair out of the way with her fingers.

"I'm the Avatar, deal with it," she said, feeling playful, pushing herself up with her hands balanced on his chest. She was exuberant, energetic, eager; he was kind of being an old man about the whole thing. It was his turn to be teased.

Her speed, though, had been lost. She went slow, for a while, letting his hands set the tempo for her as they moved across her. Korra closed her eyes, trying to feel as much as she could, to take as much of his cock as she could, to find the places within her that went white-hot without overloading them, numbing them.

When his hips moved under her again, she took it as a sign that he was ready to really take her. Korra rode him, first upright, then lowering until her torso was aligned along his own again, hard and then harder. She did not know if she was breathing; her vision tunneled, all she could see now was his ear, his neck. She buried her face in his hair.

Somehow, he'd taken back control, she was pulled down as he pushed up. He thrust hard and fast; she cried out again, sensing that this, this was it. She felt fuller and tighter that she had even just a moment ago. She bit his shoulder.

It was like being pushed over a cliff. Korra's body shuddered, he felt so good it started to hurt, over and over. Her mind was gone. It was all she could do to breathe, to keep going.

He thrust into her one last time, lingering. Korra collapsed into his arms, dully noting the sort of tickling sensation inside her. She wanted to lie like this forever, limp, in his embrace. She kissed his jaw, too tired to search for lips. He fell back again, relaxing. Korra listened to his heartbeat slow. They lay still for a few, quiet minutes.

He rolled Korra to the side, off of him. She was empty again, but deeply satisfied. She became aware of the slickness in between her thighs, the sweat on his arms, pooled on her back and in between her breasts, sticking to her hair. She gazed sleepily into his eyes, and smiled, her shyness making a half-hearted return. It was too late for that, she realized, but everything between them had changed. She had changed.

"You mean so, so much to me, Takona," she murmured, curling into him, closing her eyes only for a moment.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (29/?)

Amon rose. The Avatar breathed softly beside him, contentedly drowsing, naked except for the bands she wore on her arms as decoration. He leaned over her, watching for signs of alertness. He brushed away a strand of hair caught in her mouth, his thumb passing over her forehead. She was vulnerable. She was also beautiful.

She did not stir when he touched her. Likely she was dead to the world, at least for a while. He wasn't very surprised, although he knew that at any moment her energy could return. Twenty years ago, he would have already been shaking her awake for more.

As it was, he owed her to make good on his promise; Amon placed his hand on her stomach, drawing it slowly downward until reached her thighs. She shifted, opening her legs slightly to permit what passed through, but she did not waken. He left nothing within. He was cruel enough to her already. He had meant to terrorize her, everything had been designed to paralyze her, immobilize her as an enemy. Coming to know the girl herself, it had become more difficult to think of her that way.

He wondered how to think of her now. Do you want me? Do you like me? She asked those questions so directly. She was either a child, or the most honest woman he'd ever met.

Amon wanted to shatter the Avatar. He bent to kiss Korra goodbye.

She sighed, unaware. He covered her with the blanket, torn free during their love-making. He dressed. The radio was still playing, advertising a new kind of soap. There was no point in sweeping up the broken teacup. He would not return here again, not after this.

It would be such a simple thing to let the rent lapse, to let Takona disappear forever. It only still existed because he hadn't yet been able to let it go. It would be necessary now. It had been useful, in many ways, to become an ordinary man, but that time was ending.

Amon left her a note. Running away, he thought, but that notion had long since lost its power over him. The bitter taste was not so pervasive as it would have been, long ago.

Some hours later, he re-appeared, masked and hooded, in the underground tunnels. Much of Amon's time was consumed by shipments, of weapons, mechs, everything conceivable. He wondered if Korra ever considered how tedious the battle against her and hers really was. A hooded man armed with two lightning rods directed the flow of the trucks, the boxes, the huge numbers of people. Amon disappeared for long stretches sometimes, now; his lieutenant was accustomed to those. The man wrinkled his nose as he approached.

"Sir," he said, saluting to the mask.

"Do you have anything interesting for me?"

"We have a report on Councilman Tarrlok."

He was no longer disturbed by that name. "Yes?"

"Our spies report that he drove north in an unmarked truck. Should we be concerned?"

Amon remembered Korra, vowing to confront Tarrlok over her friends. It must have failed. "Perhaps. Keep an eye on him. We'll want all the council members, when the time comes."

The lieutenant shifted his weight, suspicious of something he didn't quite understand. There was power in being inscrutable, behind a mask. No one questioned his information. When he had ordered a plant, the set-up under the Sato mansion, no one had wondered at his sources. They merely accepted. The lieutenant scowled.

"Is there something wrong?" Amon asked, placidly.

"I don't like it," he replied. Neither would Korra. She would give chase immediately, regardless of consequence.

"Do you have a tail on him?"


"Then he can wait until tonight's shipment has been completed."

Amon turned to leave. There were other checkpoints to inspect. He gestured for the man to follow. He trotted behind him. He sniffed loudly, and said, "Sir?"

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"Sir," the lieutenant said, uncertain. "Is that ... does it smell like jasmine, to you, sir?"

"Does it?" Amon replied, coldly. The lieutenant fell silent.

It was the scent Korra had been wearing, and he had not paid it much heed at the time, except to think it strange that a girl like her would bother with perfume at all. They boarded a tram, without speaking, and descended further underground. Amon supposed that the Avatar probably had worn it for him. He assured himself that she would be fine until he could get there.

WHERE IS PART 33?! (Anonymous) Expand

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (30/?)

Even he couldn't stay awake forever. Amon had spoken with Hiroshi, prepared certain projects, and taken some necessary disciplinary actions. Korra lingered at the back of his mind. Tarrlok appeared ruthless now, but Amon only remembered an eleven-year-old boy. He did not know if Tarrlok would harm her, or merely lock her in his box that he kept up north, for his more virulent opponents. She must know, now, Tarrlok's secret. Would he let her live?

The thought gnawed at him. Amon needed the Avatar, to crush her publicly, to disprove her authority, to destroy her and everything she stood for. It had been easy, before, to think of her the same way he had thought of Aang, a figurehead representing power, the power to withhold.

He often wondered why only Ozai and Yakone, two out of thousands of benders who abused their gifts, had lost their powers. Amon wondered, who will take mine from me?

He slept uneasily, sitting up in the cab of the truck beside the driver. It had been roughly eighteen hours. He worried about Korra, despite himself. Reports had come in confirming her disappearance. Councilman Tenzin was ineffectively searching for her. It would not take him very long to suspect Tarrlok, who fled.

The driver prodded him awake on arrival, and Amon very obviously and carefully thanked the man, who seemed to think that he would be devoured. He was exhausted. He had dreamed of her.

The last of his many worries was, what to do with Korra, when he had her. If she lived. He thought fleetingly of letting her escape. Equally brief, and far more tempting, was the notion of keeping her.

You mean so, so much to me. She had been speaking to Takona, her friend, her confidante, her chosen lover. She had fallen onto Takona's lap, into his bed, spread open her body for him. Amon was a monster from her nightmares.

They would expect him to capture her. Make an example of her.

Even two days ago, it would have been easier. I want you to be my first. He had meant to refuse her, and hadn't been able to. He hadn't wanted to. It was not about deceiving her--she trusted everyone, so utterly that he wanted to shake her, or perhaps himself, for taking advantage of her naivete. It was not about spying on her. She might as well use a radio to announce her movements.

Amon's hands opened and closed into fists. I forgive you. She would hate him if she knew. Undoubtedly.

He had not decided, yet, when they entered the building, awaiting Tarrlok.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (31/?)

She could hear him moving. Korra didn't want to move and destroy her warm glow, but she knew that this was goodbye. She remembered, vaguely, the pressure of his kiss, nothing before that. Then he left. She let him. Heat filled up under her eyelids, seeped through her lashes.

Korra sat up, and wiped her face with the blanket. She sniffed. Her thigh touched a puddle of something; she examined it, a little curious as to what 'seed' actually looked like--had he bended it out of her? It wasn't a full moon, or even close. Contraception was a sanctioned use of bending, Katara had ruled it under healing long ago, but it could still be difficult, even under the best conditions. Korra always blushed when she read those parts of the charter--she wondered if she could learn. It would be awful to ask Katara to teach her, though.

She stood, and found her clothes. As she collected them, she relived the experience: sitting on his lap here, being laid out here. She came alive between her legs again; she wanted him back, she wanted him again. Forget Tarrlok.

Forget Mako. Bolin. Asami. All those non-benders.

Korra bit her lip. She stood, dressed from the waist down, beside Takona's table. Nearby was the smashed teacup. She destroyed things, so heedlessly, to get what she wanted.

The radio sang, "Woke up this morning, not long before dawn--without a warning, I found he was gone. Why would he do it? Why would he ..."

Korra reached over and switched it off before the singer could reach the chorus. She pulled back her hand. A folded piece of newsprint, torn from the paper, was stuck under the radio by a corner. She unfolded it.

She held the note between her breasts. She nearly cried, for real--not just a few stray drops, but outright weeping. She smiled instead, squeezing her eyes shut. Thank you, Takona. When she wound her binding, she hid the scrap of paper in between them.

So armed, she bounded into the street. She wasn't sure how to lock Takona's door, so she merely shut it. Korra ran for Naga, to confront Tarrlok, once and for all. She focused on riling up her ire. In the back of her mind, though, she was still in Takona's arms.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (32/?)

He was a bloodbender. Tarrlok was a bloodbender. She had been captured. If anything good had come of it, she reflected, it was connecting with Aang, it was somehow, magically, realizing the connection. Tarrlok was Yakone's son. That made so much sense. He'd been trying to tell her that--but why?--ever since arriving in Republic City, ever since she had joined his task force, since she had been goaded into challenging Amon.

Revealing her revelation had only irritated Tarrlok. She waited, ready to fight, somehow, against him. How could she fight against a bloodbender? She couldn't airbend. She didn't have the Avatar State.

She heard Tarrlok, surprised, in a bad way. She heard a voice, so familiar, so terrible.

"I am the solution."

Korra's heart raced. He was here he was here he was here. She would not let him terrify her. She breathed, trying to stay calm, alert. She imagined how Takona would deal with this. He would use his wits. Make a plan. Act on it. She kept breathing.

There was a short scuffle upstairs. Amon won. Korra's stomach churned. Tarrlok was a bloodbender. Should that damn him? Should something so intrinsic to him be stolen? No matter how terrible? It had been a good enough solution for Aang, after all. To take someone's bending, to neutralize them, without killing them. The most merciful sort of execution, the execution of the self.

If she was caught, she would be next.

She heard Amon, clearly: "Electrocute the box." Like he wanted her to hear. He wanted her to know what he was willing to do to her.

Korra looked at her arm. How would Takona escape? She looped her wristband over the bars of the box. She dangled, feeling the electricity through the air.

And it worked.

Korra blasted them, tore through them. Amon was not upstairs. No.

She burst outside. He was there. He was there.

He merely watched her. His mask, his stare transfixed her, she could not look away. A second became several thousand years.

She ran.

Korra knew he was behind her. She could feel him, he was something like fire, a presence she could feel as palpably as heat in the snow.

And then he was not there. She could not believe a few paltry tricks had thrown him, and she was possessed by the horrible, awful thought that he had let her go because she was never, had never been out of his reach, he need only extend his hand and she would be ground to dust in his fist.

Her energy, so often like a torrential river, the only aspect of water she'd ever really related herself to, ran out, the river went dry. The source exhausted, choked, gave her dust. She collapsed in the snow. She could survive snow better than most, but even she would die. She would die.

Naga was warm, the warmth of the home. Korra, too far gone to comprehend her surroundings, her actions, let Naga guide her home.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (33/?)

Korra waited for Amon. She scuffed the floor with her boot. "I guess you're a no-show, Amon," she said, her voice echoing, heard and unheard. She was below the statue. She was not. She stood alone in darkness, illuminated by a point of light on the floor which was and was not a lantern.

The lantern extinguished. A hand brushed her face. Her heart stopped.


She returned to life. She threw her arms around him, around his torso, sobbing joyfully into his collar. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Takona stroked her hair, in the dark. They sank to the floor together. He held her. Korra wouldn't let him leave again. She had never felt this way about anyone, not Mako, not anyone. He felt the same. His hand drew a line down her neck, down her back. She rocked against him, awakened in that way.

He moved with her, against her. Korra was alive. She searched his body, looking for what excited him. There was so much she wanted to do, still. She laced her fingers between his, she placed his other hand at her breast, bare, covered only by gooseflesh. Why did he always keep his clothes on? She ground against his leg, wet and aching.

She kissed him. His mouth was hard, as cold and smooth as porcelain.

That was not the sun marked upon his brow. It was the moon, red as blood, always full.

"You tricked me," she cried. She leapt away, scrambled away, skidding across the cold stone, naked.

Amon did not reply.

"How dare you!" she shrieked. Where was Takona? Had Amon somehow gotten to him? Captured him? "How dare you use him to get to me! Leave him out of this, I won't let you touch him!"

He stood, and walked slowly toward her. She could not move. She was paralyzed. Amon knelt beside her, his mask hovering close above her own face.

He said, "I will destroy you, Avatar. I will take anything I want from you."

His hand thrust between her legs. Korra's eyes opened.

She had been saved. Naga had saved her. Everyone seemed so happy to see her. They sobered when she shared her discovery, Tarrlok's heritage. Tenzin speculated that Amon was preparing for his endgame.

It came soon enough. How long had he planned? How much power did he have behind him?

How much would Amon take from her?

Korra was so grateful to her friends, when they elected to stay with her. Tenzin needed to escape, Lin went to protect him. But she had Mako. She looked at him, not knowing how she wanted him anymore. She still did, in a way. Asami, who had proven herself so very much, at such a great cost. Bolin, who would give so much to cheer them. Team Avatar was almost complete.

She reflected on that, entering the pipe into the underground, Mako's arm around her shoulders. She was only missing one person.

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Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (34/?)

Descending into the underground was easy. No wonder Amon had been able to amass an army. There was another city, under the first, like an image reflected in a pool. She and Mako performed reconnaissance. Korra's heart still sometimes beat a little faster when he leaned close, but when she imagined anything more, Mako was replaced by another. She missed Takona. She missed his wisdom, his gentle teasing, his touch.

She leaned against Naga, contemplating her future, the coup, the scratching of paper under her clothes. She took his note out, sometimes, and read it, before she went to sleep.

Mako approached. They spoke. Under each of his words was another meaning. Korra had no idea what Asami thought. She seemed preoccupied, or irritable. Guilt stung at Korra whenever she thought about it.

"You are the most loyal, brave, and selfless person I have ever known," he told her.

Korra smiled, about to reply. Her heart fluttered, affected by his kind words, by his sincerity, by how long she had wanted hear them. Another voice spoke in her head.

You are a brave, honorable girl. Was Mako speaking to Korra? Was he speaking to the Avatar? Don't you think you'd be just as brave, just as good?

She didn't understand her feelings for him, now. She was different, she was changed. She had been compromised, like him. There was someone else. Even now, she couldn't bear to bring up Takona, to have to explain the man who'd altered her so completely.

She bid Mako good night, instead. They both needed sleep.

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Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (35/?)

Hurrrngk we're almost there everyone! Thanks for sticking with me for so long, all your kind words, etc.! Did I once think this would be only ten parts long?

It came down to this. The United Forces had taken severe casualties. In some ways, Korra felt responsible. She had saved Iroh, but there were so many more she had not. She had to take Amon down. If she could have done it before, none of this would have happened. Bolin, Iroh, and Asami would deal with the aircraft base. She would face Amon. She would take everything back.

She had to. She had to fix things. She was the Avatar.

Mako went with her. She was grateful. She steeled herself for the encounter, but it was Tarrlok whom they found instead. They heard his story; they heard Amon's story. Korra felt pity for Tarrlok, at least--she had spent too many days, too many sleepless nights fearing Amon to truly believe he'd ever been a fourteen-year-old boy named Noatak.

A quick discussion with Mako had decided their course: to reveal Amon, to disintegrate his power, although Korra worried it might not be enough. They almost flew to the rally.

Korra challenged him, awkwardly denouncing him from a platform high above. She could not bear the idea of being closer. Her nerve faltered, several times, as he merely let her speak.

He showed his face. Had Tarrlok lied to her? You're innocent, Korra, you just take everyone at their word. He had seemed so sincere.

There was no time. Tenzin, the airbender kids, they were in danger, she had to move. She and Mako freed them. Tenzin blasted Amon away--there were no other airbenders for him to have gained experience. Amon, so adept at dodging and neutralizing the other three elements, failed against air, the only element she could not bend. She had never seen him fall before.

Korra still ran. She still hid. He still found her.

In the end, the loss of her bending did not kill her on the spot, as she thought it would have. She was so tired, as if she had run a thousand miles without rest or water, and then collapsed. But she was ultimately unchanged. The death of her self was quiet. The only difference was that he had won.

She wondered if he would kill her. He could take anything from her. No, she thought, there is one thing he cannot have. Korra did not know if Amon was so terrible as to try. All the same.

Mako saved her. He was so brave. He was so good, so loyal, so kind. He took care of things, when they were his charge. He blasted Amon. He carried her, although he could not carry her far enough.

Amon forced Mako to kneel.

After all he had done for her. After all he had risked. Amon was going to take from him too.

Amon, who had taken her bending, her self, her identity--Amon, who would continue to take, and take, and take from everyone, everyone she had ever known, everyone in the city, everyone in the world.

She lunged, forgetting that she could not firebend. She could not just stand there, and let him take.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (36/?)

She connected.

There was a part of her he had not taken, a part he could not take because she had not even known it was there. Korra, at first overwhelmed by the connection, attacked. She attacked Amon, and he fell.

She threw him from the window. If he hit the ground, he would die on impact; she would have killed a man, something Avatar Aang had never done. Korra rushed to the window in time to see the end of a splash. She was profoundly relieved that he had not smashed on the ground, even now. Her heart beat fast and hard, she had knives in her chest and they stabbed with each pulse. She swallowed hard.

His mask floated to the top.

Someone yelled, "Tyrant!" at her. Korra could only wait. If he drowned, she would have killed a man. Blood would be on her hands.

The roar of water was deafening. The ocean rose up in a whirling column, supporting the figure of a man. Amon's body would not let him die when it could save itself. Korra stared, unsure of what she was seeing. She could not find his scar.

He's so fair, she thought, mesmerized by the twisting pillar of ocean, by Amon's unmasked, unscarred face, for a Water Tribesman.

He looked down at her, and she could not read everything she saw in his expression.

Well, perhaps that say I'm half. My mother was from a village in the Northern Water Tribe. My father was from Republic City.

She had never been able to understand everything that had passed over his features. Sometimes she could guess, but he was so hard to understand.

Be careful. If Amon shows up.

Amon had always understood her. He had always known. He had always known everything. Every move she made. Every step she took. Amon had always known where she would go, what she would do, because she had, she had always--

You don't know anything about my past, anything. Polar bear dogs in the north are no better. I remember seeing them, during hunts with my father. I was a runaway.

He had fed her the clues, one by one, and she was so blind, so naive, so gullible, she had thought nothing--nothing of it--You're innocent, Korra--

He had taken everything from her. He had promised to destroy her, and she had knelt before him, willingly, gladly, and let him do it.

She could not cry, she could not move, she could barely breathe.

Mako launched an attack, because Korra could not, or would not. Amon dropped into the sea. He could not return to land, so he fled. Mako had bested him once, catching him unaware. He would not do so a second time. Amon was a liar, a fraud, perhaps the greatest of them; he was a master waterbender as well, of the same caliber.

Korra had seen proof of both, so many times before.

"Korra, we need to go after him!" Mako said.

Her voice was there. Korra could not find it for several seconds. Finally, she said, "No. Let him go. He's lost. We need to help Tenzin, Lin, the kids."

Mako gritted his teeth. He wanted to argue, but conceded, silently nodding. He followed her into the arena, hovering close, ready to catch her, to care for her, if she fell. He could see she was shattered. She hoped he would never understand why.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (37/?)

They whisked her to the South Pole. Victory was bitter, it tasted of failure. Korra did not want to eat. Mako persuaded the ship cook to make her old favorites, sea-prunes, kelp dumplings, lion-octopus, but she would not eat it, she could not stomach it. She did not want to speak. She turned Tenzin and Pema away. Only Lin seemed to come close to understanding what she desired most: presence, without speech, company, without comfort.

They stood together, that night, on the bow. They exchanged no words. Korra stood with her feet hooked under the rails, wind in her hair, colder and colder as she came home. Between her breasts was the itch of paper, neatly folded, soft with use.

Even Lin would never really know.

Her mother and father embraced her. Korra could not tell them, either. She could not bear to let them know about her mistake.

Everyone she loved surrounded her. They loved her. All of them, loved her, and would do anything for her, and could do nothing.

They entrusted her to Katara. Korra trembled. A waterbender to undo the work of another waterbender. Aang's beloved wife. Korra closed her eyes. Katara shut the door.

Water passed over Korra's eyes.

"He took your bending with bloodbending," she repeated, softly. "You were right about that. I have never seen such work. Korra, can you feel connections with any of the elements?"

She swallowed. "Air." Her voice was small, weak. She gripped the bench beneath her. "Nothing else. It's like a part of me is gone. How could Aang do this? To anyone?"

Katara frowned. "He never did it without great cause."

Korra, who had not wept until now, drew her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. "How could he do this."

"It weighed heavily on him. Even at the end, he did not know if it was right--to take something like that from another person." Katara stopped speaking. Tears welled up in Korra's eyes, and did not fall.

"How could he do this to me?" she whispered, staring into Katara's careworn face, her familiar blue eyes, her old fashioned looping braids.

Korra had once heard that souls would meet again, if they truly touched one another. She had always felt a bond with Katara, an understanding that transcended certain things. Korra did not see her as Aang had seen her. But that understanding was there, all the same.

"Amon was a bad man, Korra. Tenzin has told me--"

"He touched me," Korra said, hopelessly. Her voice cracked. "I let him touch me."

"You were overpowered. Even Aang could not stand against Yakone without the Avatar State--"

Korra's eyes were wet and thick with unfallen tears. Katara had to understand, she had to make her. She had kept her silence. She had maintained her composure, even Tenzin had complimented her. She had been strong enough to hide the truth. If Katara condemned her, she would quietly lay down and never move again. She cast her gaze to the floor, unable to speak and face her at the same time.

"He was inside me," Korra said, crushed smaller and smaller with each word.

Katara, so calm, always, went rigid. Her wrinkled hands became fists. "Korra ... did Amon ... ?" She would not say it aloud. Katara was too wise.

"No," Korra replied, trembling.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (38/?)

Katara, with some difficulty, lowered herself beside Korra on the bench. She put her hand on Korra's back. The touch was so soothing, a comfort she had taken many times before.

"Korra," she said. "How is that possible?"

Korra choked. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears falling fast and silently. Katara touched her shoulder.

"Under the mask," she said, gesturing to her own face. The words came more easily. "He's an ordinary man under the mask. We were friends."

"He deceived you." Katara's voice was icy.

Korra hung her head, suspended in a state of anguish. "Yes."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Korra," Katara told her. "That evil man tricked you."

"He's not evil!" Korra said, surprising herself with the violence of her conviction. "He did terrible things, he lied to me, he took my bending, Lin's, he would have had Tenzin's, Mako's--but he wasn't evil, Katara, I know it--"

She shivered, scraping the tears from her eyes furiously. She was ashamed of defending Amon; she wished she could hate him, freely, or merely pity him, benignly, like Aang would have been able. She had no doubt he would have. Katara waited. She was so patient. Katara breathed in and out, inviting Korra to do the same. After a few moments, she began to speak.

"A long time ago, when Aang and I were young," Katara began. "I knew a young man. He was a charismatic leader. He would have been a great man, capable of wonderful things.

"But something evil had broken him, as a child, it had broken a fine spirit into shards, and fused them together into something ugly and warped. What he believed to be justice was only revenge for the evil done to him. I wanted very much--to help him repair the damage--but I never got the chance."

Korra's eyes were emptying. She wondered if she was running out of tears. "What happened?"

"He died," Katara said, simply. She took Korra's hand and held it tightly.

Korra squeezed hers back. She did not feel better.

"Katara," she whispered. "Amon took my bending. He destroyed me, just like he said he would. But he was so kind to me, so good--the man I thought he was--he came to mean so much to me, I--I even--I hate him so much, Katara, but if he was here, right now--I would--"

I would go to him. She could not say that aloud.

"Korra," Katara said in a grave tone. "Your connection to the elements has been severed. There is nothing I can do."

Korra nodded, unable to speak.

"If you like, I can tell them," she continued. "For now, we should keep your association with Amon a secret. I will not tell a soul."

"Thank you."

Katara embraced her. Korra was exhausted again, as if she had lost her bending a second time. Katara released her, and then slowly returned to the other room to inform the others.

Re: Amon/Korra, Amorra meets a handsome waterbender

This prompt is amazing...


So we're getting to the end

There are a lot of feels happening, and that's my fault, not too sorry about it

But I just want to share this http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6qjmlvYfX1ra27vvo1_1280.jpg

and let you understand some of my feels

because that's never happened before

my feels are shimmering guys

shimmering like the wings of a dragonfly in the dappled sunlight of a beautiful forest glade in summer


you guys are great

back to the story

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Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (39/?)

Korra held her face in her hands. She did not want to look in the eyes of all those people, and see their love, their support, their concern. She heard Katara speak. She would need to emerge at some point. When she did, she broke away immediately. In some terrible way, she had betrayed each of them.

Mako chased after her. He loved her.

Korra remembered, not too long ago, longing to hear those words. Mako was the kind of man she should want. He was brave, handsome, loyal to her; Asami and he must have come to some understanding. She tried to think gracious thoughts toward Asami, who had suffered so very much.

She told him to return to Republic City. Mako loved her, he would not leave her like that, even if she was not the Avatar.

Just as brave? Just as good?

Korra wished she could love Mako, as she wished she could hate Amon: wholly, unreservedly.

She fled.

She found solitude on a cliffside she had once visited frequently, living cooped up in the complex, drudging through studies and lessons. She liked the roar of the ocean. Korra closed her eyes. She could feel, if she searched, the severed ends of her self. She had been shattered.

Fused into something ugly and warped.

Korra wondered if it was an act of evil, done unto her. She wondered if she was now broken. She did not think Amon was truly evil. She did not think Aang was evil, for removing Ozai's bending--it had ended the Hundred Year War.

Had it? Fire Lord Zuko ascended right afterward, barely older than she was now. Zuko had ended the War, he incarcerated his father and ruled in his place. Aang had merely cleared the way for him. He had not taken Ozai's lust for power, for control, for total conquest: merely his firebending.

Taking Yakone's bending had not prevented him from destroying his sons. If Tarrlok was to be believed, taking his bending had not pulled the root of his cruelty and ambition. It had not killed his self, his nature, his capacity for corruption.

She imagined a child prodigy named Noatak, who could bend water, unseen, with his mind, who wanted everyone to be equal, who was forced to be something more. Capable of wonderful things. It was hard give Amon that name--Noatak. Even Takona was more natural to her.

Korra buried her face in her arms. She missed him. She wondered if he had escaped capture. She had not asked.

Just as brave. Just as good.

She was only an airbender now. Was she so changed? What would happen now, now that Amon had taken the only thing she had ever used to define herself?

Was she just as good? What part of Yakone had been the father who had forced his sons to bloodbend each other, and what part the sad old man who had died of grief? What part of Amon had been the man who had listened to her, cared about her, wanted her?

What part of her was the part which made her the Avatar?

Snow crunched behind her. She heard the soft rustle of monk's robes.

"Go away, Tenzin," she said, wearily. She knew that he meant well.

"But you called me here."

She turned.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (40/?)

Aang stood behind her, as tangible as if he were flesh. Behind him seemed to stand the figures of thousands and thousands of people. Roku. Kyoshi. Yangchen.

One day, she would stand before the new Avatar, and guide them. She closed her eyes before Aang, and let him teach her what she had never been able to let herself learn. She wondered what she would choose to say, what lessons she would impart.

His touch was the touch of a spirit's. She felt a strange pressure upon her brow. Over her heart, she felt the gentle uncrinkling of paper.

Korra remembered, incompletely, entering the Avatar State. If she lived longer than Kyoshi, she would not be able to describe it. She returned to herself, to see a figure, fair with black hair, standing behind her.

She caught her breath. It was Mako.

She wanted to love him. She thought she might be able to, if she tried--he was kind to her, too. He would be good to her, too. She kissed him, and found that she could feel something shiver inside her. She was not dead to his touch.

Korra reasoned that could not mourn a man who had never truly existed forever. It would take time, but she was only seventeen, and she had that time. Most people were lucky to meet their perfect match before they died.

They returned together.

Korra/DisguisedAsATotallyNormalGuy!Amon (41/41)

The returning trip to Republic City was not quite joyful. It was more like relief had fallen over everyone, like rain. Korra could see the subtle differences in Lin's speech, her expressions, the way she stood. Tenzin spoke to Korra with traces of reverence, now. She felt much older.

She bid goodbye to Katara, almost unwillingly. It was so hard, to let go of the only person who would ever know the truth.

She sat with her friends, with Tenzin, Lin, Pema, the kids, all around a table laden with food. Pema despaired as Korra and Tenzin fought over the last sea-prune--how could they eat something that smelled like it was rotting?--while Bolin recounted, for the fifth time, Iroh falling from a plane, not once, but twice.

Asami smiled at her, awkwardly. Korra had never had a friend who was a girl, her own age. She smiled back. Mako focused on his rice. That was fine, it was kind of his fault.

She was happy. She had worried she'd never really feel happy again, that Amon had taken that from her, too. Something like sorrow still gripped at her from time to time. Korra helped Asami clear up after the meal, chatting softly about safe things. They had the same favorite singer, the same favorite childhood radio show.

Pema retired early, with the children. Lin talked quietly with Tenzin. Mako worried over Korra, almost wouldn't leave her until Bolin surreptitiously stole his attention with what could only be described as shenanigans. Asami seemed want the same thing she did: solitude. A time to think.

Korra breathed the ocean air, alone at the stern, leaning pensively over the railing. She held an folded piece of paper in her hand, thumbing its softened edges.

She thought of Mako. She needed to let go. She never wanted to.

I know who you are. You're a good man.

He had protested. It made sense now. Korra knew that some of what he had told her had been lies, to make the deception work. But a great deal of it had been true. He had been more honest with her, as Takona, than he had ever been with anyone else as Amon.

I don't want to never see that man again.

She did not know what had happened to him. No one seemed to have any intelligence. He had notoriety as Amon, and had never been caught, not once.

Korra would not cry again, over him. She had to let go. She closed her eyes, and breathed out. She brought the newsprint to her lips. She kissed the smooth surface.

"I still forgive you," she said, to the moon, to the sea, to him, wherever he was. She let the wind take it from her fingers. Her eyes opened just in time to see it fall, open, upon the water.

Her lashes were warm and wet. She heard a pair of voices, coming up from below decks. Korra hastily wiped her eyes with her parka sleeve.

"Korra?" Tenzin called.

"I'm here," she said. She ambled towards him. Lin stood beside him, crossing her arms.

"Korra, I know you've been through a great deal, but I'm going to have to ask you to testify at Tarrlok's trial," he said, scowling. She blinked. Tenzin added, "It's a part of due process. Furthermore, he's our best chance at apprehending Amon."

"Oh," she said, dumbly. "Of course."

"Saikhan is probably making a mess of the interrogation," Lin griped.

"Inquiry, Lin," Tenzin retorted. "Tarrlok is a prisoner, but he has rights as well."


Korra pieced together the words.

"Amon is still out there, somewhere?" she said, tentatively. She tried to sound neutral.

"It's our belief. The United Forces are searching for him, but in many ways," Tenzin said, stroking his beard, "Apprehending a bender as deadly as he is will be the responsibility of the Avatar. Korra, will you be able to ... ?"

Korra's hands became fists. Her heart was beating so loudly; could Lin sense it? Amon was on the run. She could find him. She could help him. She wanted to help him, to repair what had been done to him. She wanted to see him again. To touch him, with her own hands, in this life.

"Yes," she said. She was so hasty. She shouldn't have thrown away his note; it might have helped her, in some way. She was always so impatient.

She bid Tenzin and Lin a good night. It was fine. She remembered what it said.

Despite everything--I want to see you. I would do much--to see you just once more, Korra.

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