Posts tagged what is left to be saved

paring: Makkora(at first); morphs into Amorra(Or Namorra or whatever you guys want to call it)

rating:T (for now – M will pop up in later chapters)

characters: korra, amon(noatok), water tribe folk, katara, tenzin, equalists

genre: tragedy, romance, forgiveness and of course SMUT! (later unfortunately; I have to make plot first)

summary: while taking a break from her duties as the Avatar, Korra returns home with Mako for a much needed vacation – that is until two water tribe children find a man half-dead out in the tundra. that man turns out to be Amon, the only problem? he doesn’t remember who he is.

authors note:  So holy crap - I’m super-mega-awesome sorry for not updating/posting anything for the last while… life caught up to me and dragged me into the abyss and then buried me in paper work for the last few … months. Thank you thou- to anyone and everyone that still been reading and checking out my tumblr. I promise to come back and not disappear again… and if I do to at least warn you. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and just so you know I’m hard at work at the next so that you don’t have to wait so long !  

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] 

Chapter Four – Giving In

For once, Amon slept peacefully. His dreams were void of nightmares, just flashes – images of scenery, an arena, a temple, the ocean, voices overlap making them incoherent – but he can hear children, men and women all talking a once, some are yelling others crying. And then he saw the Goddess again.

She was standing in front of him, anger etched across her face as she raised her foot, he was nowhere near her – so what does she expect to achieve from kicking him at that distance. Then he feels it. The wind is expelled from her foot, hurricane winds ripping through the air and directed towards him. Arms out, he embraced the contact even after it knocked him off his feet and threw him through the air. He felt his back split against the window, shattering the structure and free falling into the water below. And all he could see was her looking down before he disappeared under the waves.

-

When Amon awoke – he wasn’t screaming. Infact he felt rather well-rested even with the odd dream still lingering in the back of his skull. He tried to move, but he was only met with discomfort. His entire body was stiff, joints and muscles locking up from being in this position for too long, but whenever he moved he could feel the scabs peel and crack which made the pain come back.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he heard someone say. Turning his head, Amon looked to see the old woman, placing a blanket on the young boy who had taken care of him earlier last night. The body was curled up in a ball, his arms filled with goose bumps but he still managed to sleep through the cold. Amon felt guilt crawl into his chest; the child had to sleep in the cold while he was warm and comfortable – for the most part.

“Is he alright,” Amon croaked out. His voice was rough and cracking, possibly due to the fact that the last thing he drank was that black liquid that was thick and disgusting.

The old woman looked down at the boy for a minute and then laughed, waving her hand.

“Oh Sila? He’s fine, he’s slept in much colder temperatures – stubborn boy he is, reminds me of mine when they were little,” she said tucking the blanket around the boy a bit more.

“His name is Sila?” Amon questioned. The old woman nodded heading towards the same shelf where Sila had retrieved his medicine. The old woman gathered up the large bowl and bandages while she moved to sit down next to Amon and peel back the coat so she could get a better look at him.

“Yes, both he and Aga found you, he hasn’t left your side since you’ve been here in my hut,” she said running her gloved hands across the bandages on his shoulders and neck. The contact was disturbing and made Amon want to shiver, but if he so much as blinked, the scabs would crack.

“Yes, he did tell me that, last night,” Amon muttered trying to keep his discomfort to himself. The old woman reached up to pull back a bandage that was coating his neck, Amon bit his lip painfully when the cloth refused to move and the old woman had to give it a good yank to get it off.

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paring: Makkora(at first); morphs into Amorra(Or Namorra or whatever you guys want to call it)

rating:T (for now – M will pop up in later chapters)

characters: korra, amon(noatok), water tribe folk, katara, tenzin, equalists

genre: tragedy, romance, forgiveness and of course SMUT! (later unfortunately; I have to make plot first)

summary: while taking a break from her duties as the Avatar, Korra returns home with Mako for a much needed vacation – that is until two water tribe children find a man half-dead out in the tundra. that man turns out to be Amon, the only problem? he doesn’t remember who he is.

another quick authors note! - sometimes I think I just like to hear myself talk … er; read myself talk? I don’t know! anyway - HOLYCRAP! I`ve gotten so many likes/reblogs/followers on this … its making my heart do funky things. just a warning that this chapter is ALOT of talking - an immense amount … of talking, but you’ll see why ! I’m also bad because I haven’t sent this off to my beta yet, I was just so excited that I had to post it … like now. I’ve proof-read it, but grammar and I are enemies … so - here’s hoping I caught a decent amount of mistakes. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter and that the characters are not to OOC! 

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two]

Chapter Three: Decisions and Nightmares. 

Katara stood in her doorway, watching as her son and Korra retreated from her home. It wasn’t until everything was quiet, save for Amon’s grunts and groans, did she breath again.

“Sila, bring me some of my healing roots please,” she called out to the young boy outside her room.

“Yes Sifu!” was all she heard before the distinct shuffling of feet let her return to her patient. Amon was writhing in pain as he tried to let out small cries.

Katara removed the mitten from her aged hand and moved to place it against Amon’s forehead to try and get a better idea of how much work she still had to do to get him into a comfortable state but his hand shot out.

She almost gasped at the tight grip around her wrist. His hands were black, the skin splitting at the knuckles to reveal the pink muscle and flesh. His hand trembled around her wrist – as if all of his strength was in this tight hold. Looking back down at him, Katara felt pity.

The bandage and gauze wrapped his face and neck prevented him from giving a complete expression but it was his eyes that stunned Katara. His bright blue eyes were wide; filled with pain, fear and rage; his chest heaving violently while struggling to keep his arm raised just enough to keep Katara’s hand away from himself.

“Don’t touch me,” he grunted out. Katara arched a brow, impressed that he managed speak since he struggled so hard when confront by Korra.

Taking her other hand she pressed the warm mitt against his wrist urging it down.

“I mean you no harm,” she told him softly. Katara felt Amon’s arm give, allowing her to drop it down into a stationary position next to him. Looking back up at his face she noticing his eyes darting towards the curtain obviously worried that the Avatar would return.

Her cold palm fell against his cheek moving his head to look to back up at her.

“Fear not, she is gone and will not be allowed to return without my permission.”

Katara watched Amon give a slight nod before she moved to check his wrappings. She moved his head as delicately as possible and began to un-wrap the old stained bandage. Scabs and blood stuck to the white wrappings causing Amon to twitch in her hands.

“Sila?” she called out, hoping that the child hadn’t forgotten about his task. Within seconds the young water tribe boy returned and moved through the curtain to bring her a giant bowl filled with a green paste and white bandages draped down over his arm. He placed the bowl next to Katara while staring intensely at Amon’s burned body.

Katara noticed turning her head and kicking him lightly.

“Don’t stare dear – it’s not polite,” she said smiling to the boy. Sila immediately turned his head away and continued to work on his task of dipping the white bandages into the green paste.

Now that Amon was warm, and sweating – the scabs that were once solid, cracked and bled, falling in flakes off his skin as Katara continued un-wrapping him, exposing the pink flesh. His scalp was still horrid mess of charred tissue, bald burning spots and grisly hair. The skin around his face is molten and blistered, bubbling in places where the fire consumed him. Katara’s heart clenched watching his continue to shift in discomfort and pain.

“Spirits, how did you survive…” she muttered. Reaching behind her she grabbed the bandage that Sila offered her, moving to wrap it around his head.

“That woman,” Amon said, “She called me … Amon.”

Katara nodded, continuing to wrap the bandage around his head and then around his neck.

“Yes, indeed she did.”

“… who is Amon?”

Katara paused, looking down at her patient. His eyes were full of confusion; he truly didn’t know who Amon was, who he was.

She forced a delicate smile over her lips.

“It’s no-one dear, just close your eyes and let my medicine do its work,” she said giving him a light tap on the shoulder. Amon tried to nod, but the scab on his neck cracked, puss spilling from the wound which caused a shiver of pain to flood his system. Katara quickly wrapped it tightly in the cloth, protecting the wound from infection. She spent a few minutes re-wrapping his face, and neck before moving onto his chest - humming and old water-tribe song that slowly put Amon to sleep.

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might have to split the chapter into two ..

paring: Makkora(at first); morphs into Amorra(Or Namorra or whatever you guys want to call it)

rating:T (for now – M will pop up in later chapters)

characters: korra, amon(noatok), water tribe folk, katara, tenzin, equalists

genre: tragedy, romance, forgiveness and of course SMUT! (later unfortunately; I have to make plot first)

summary: while taking a break from her duties as the Avatar, Korra returns home with Mako for a much needed vacation – that is until two water tribe children find a man half-dead out in the tundra. that man turns out to be Amon, the only problem? he doesn’t remember who he is.

quick authors note:  I have a BETA! its the amazing and fantastic Yiran who has taken on the tedious task of … editing for me. Seriously - amazing and awesome, very informative and helps fix all of my bad writing habits. Thank you again for all the comments, likes and reblog’s - never had this much love before. ONTO CHAPTER 2!  

[Chapter One] [Chapter 3]

Chapter Two: Alive 

Korra had spent the last three months trying to rebuild Republic City – now with her full abilities realized as the Avatar, she became a rock for both benders and non-benders and their symbol of hope for a better future.

However, much to Korra’s disappointment, the Equalist moment was only quelled, but not forever destroyed; the fact that their charismatic leader ended up being a bender himself fuelled some of the hatred.

New pictures began to rise - of disfigured Amon masks with various ‘x’s and lines drawn across, underneath it read: ‘the liar is dead – let the truth live and once again prosper’.

The rallies continued, and attacks increased on benders but one thing was for certain; there was no clear leader and therefore the Equalist part was ripped in half – those still loyal to Amon and those who wanted nothing more than make him an example.

No one had seen or heard from Amon, and Tarrlok’s body washed ashore Republic City, three days following his disappearance from the Air Temple.  Korra had requested that Tarrlok receive a proper water-tribe burial and no one opposed.

Among the wreckage found with Tarrlok’s body, small bits and pieces of an Equalist tunic was found which told Korra and the others that Amon hadbeen there, but there was still no body to conclude if Amon was truly dead.

They could only hope that he would never resurface.

Korra had been working herself to death, fighting Equalists at night and working with the Republic City Council to repair their city both physically and mentally. It wasn’t until she passed out in the middle of a public speech – did Tenzin suggest she take a leave of absence and return to the Southern Water Tribe to be with her family. Much to Korra surprise Mako decided to join her following her back home to begin their budding relationship.

Everything was going well, until she saw the body that had been brought into her village by Katara and two children.

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paring: Makkora(at first); morphs into Amorra(Or

Namorra or whatever you guys want to call it)

rating:T (for now – M will pop up in later chapters)

characters: korra, amon(noatok), water tribe folk, katara, tenzin, equalists

genre: tragedy, romance, forgiveness and of course SMUT! (later unfortunately; I have to make plot first)

summary: while taking a break from her duties as the Avatar, Korra returns home with Mako for a much needed vacation – that is until two water tribe children find a man half-dead out in the tundra. that man turns out to be Amon, the only problem? he doesn’t remember who he is.

yay for amnesia fic! ya these things are done to death – seriously, and I honestly expect quite a few of these to pop up soon, so I’m taking a crack at it for now. I honestly dreamed about this story last night which is good, because I woke up in REM which means I remember most of the story and have thus written out plot points. This is my response to the ending of LoK because DAMNIT! AMON LIVES!

just a quick note about Amon/Noatok in this story. I know a lot of the fandom is splitting them into two different people but I feel that they are the same. mind you what I’m about to write might differ, but this story is kind of Noatok becoming Amon again – er … I think. ANYWAY! my plan for this story is to have Amon rediscover himself and be just that – AMON. this authors note is getting lengthy… anyway enjoy – while I chill out on the S.S Amorra.

[Chapter Two][Chapter Three]

Chapter One: Time for Goodbyes

Just like the good old’ days.

Time slows – Amon – Noatak, knows this is coming. He can feel his brother’s heart beat – striking his own as his power carcasses over the thick veins in Tarrlok’s chest. Noatak knows he could stop him, if he wanted to.

But he was tired. All his life, Noatak had blamed bending.

Bending was the reason for all of life’s hardships; it created chaos and rivalry, pitting brother against brother and father against son. He truly believed his message; he believed that bending was an impurity that needed to be cleansed.

And he alone would be the one to pay the price for that dream. There was no happy ending for him, no sail away into the sunset – no family reunion.

His identity was bound to be exposed, and when it did – he only hoped that he would have been able to see his dreams come to fruition.

But that was not how things came to pass.

Instead he would simply watch as his only remaining kin, sacrifice them both to the Great Sea.

However, for the first time in what felt like years, Noatak relaxed. He inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell of the salty ocean that he had neglect for so long. His power was at its prime in this environment, he could feel every push and pull of the tides and currents; he could feel the fish moving through the water – and most of all he could feel the calming cold of the deepest parts of the ocean.

This is my grave, he thought, and my brothers.

Noatak felt the tears gather, he had been stone for so long – so compact and unfeeling; all this to keep up appearances. Even now this felt out of character for he had been Amon for so long - never Noatak.

But now, now he was Noatak. Son of Yakone, and brother to Tarrlok. He went through his memories, the ones before he became a water bender. Of the times when his father smiled – and when Tarrlok smiled. Of his mother and sea prunes, ice baths and snow ball fights.

He shed a single tear, shutting his eyes to the wind.

Noatak let out a deep breath, his entire body flooding with relief and he gave one last smile –

Before his world went white.

The pain was unbearable – his flesh ripping, burning. It was an interesting ending – he boasted lies about being maimed by fire benders and now the fire was his ending.

Noatak’s body crashed into the front of the boat, breaking and bruising under the immense force that threw him forward. His tunic caught a blaze, crawling across his skin into every crease, and burning everything.  Noatak wanted to scream, he wanted to cry out and agony and beg for this to end.

But this was his price and he would endure it.

As Noatak flew through the air ablaze he caught sight of his brothers limp body, floating inches from the fiery wreckage. Unlike Noatak, his brothers corpse was preserved to an extent; the hand that bore the Equalist glove was gone, nothing but a bloodied slump, but his clothes were charred, black around the edges and debris from the boat were embedded in his body; slicing apart the tender flesh.

But what shook Noatak to the very core – was his face.

His brother was at peace. No longer did he see the hatred, the anger, the betrayal etched across his face, just peace.

Slowly, his brother’s body rolled with the cascading waves that dragged the dead body of Tarrlok down and into the depths.

That was when Noatak accepted his fate. He embraced the pain and the fire that burned his flesh. He accepted what his life had become and how it was to end; because in the end – he was able to give his brother something back.

When Noatak hit the water, the cold knocked the breath from his lungs. Out of fear and shock he inhaled, filling his lungs with sea water. Bubbles exploded from his lips, dancing to the surface where Noatak was able to watch the setting sun – one last time.

Although he panicked at the thought of drowning, he didn’t fight it, not that he could with his body so badly burned.

Instead Noatak watched as the sky faded into blackness and the very ocean and life force of the water benders welcomed him back and dragged him into her depths.

Only when his heart stopped beating –

Did Noatak finally feel at peace.

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