So I caved. I'm writing out the sequels. I just can't leave these poor characters hanging. There's probably not going to be any more smut; I'm just doing justice to this storyline. Besides, these two need to go sit in a corner and think about what they've done.
Today on Omegaverse Trash: Korra has a great day at Amon's expense. Well, almost.
And before you ask: yes. This is where I gave up on being serious. You can imagine overblown FMA animation for some of these scenes.
I really wish I could add the other characters, but if things keep going the way I'm writing them, everybody's probably going to show up ten minutes late with Starbucks. Oh well. Maybe we'll get to see Korra be glorious and save herself? ;)
Twenty-four hours later, with two days left until the rally, Amon smells her again.
It happens an hour before noon, right in the middle of a meeting with Hiroshi Sato and his airship pilots. Everything was in place for the invasion of the city, and if everything went according to plan, Republic City would be his by nightfall.
Everything, that is, except for the fact that the Avatar's scent was clogging up the hideout again.
"And from there, we head southwest over downtown, then cut across the bay to…to…"
Amon completely forgot what he was saying as his instincts comprehended the last breath he took. It was back. Her damned scent was leaking from out of her cell again, even after he gave her a week's worth of suppressants. He blanched beneath his mask, and he could feel sweat prickling at the back of his neck already.
Hiroshi Sato frowned and sniffed the air. "Do I recognize—"
"No," Amon blurted. Hiroshi and his pilots were staring at him suspiciously—he needed a cover story, quickly. "No, no, it must be Meng. She's been having, ah, problems this week with…that. I should go see if she's alright."
Amon shoved his chair back and stood up. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"He means a half-hour," the Lieutenant muttered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
"Lieutenant!" Amon hissed.
Amon walked briskly for the door, hoping to be left alone, but the Lieutenant excused himself and followed him out. Amon heard several of the pilots whispering amongst themselves and asking who Meng was before he slammed the door behind himself. With that, he began to hurry to the storage room, while trying to ignore the fact that the Lieutenant was following him.
"Why are you putting yourself through this again?" the Lieutenant sighed.
"For the last time, Lieutenant, I am doing this because I am the only one qualified to do so. She's the Avatar. If anyone else were to confront her it would end in disaster."
"Right. Says you."
Amon's eyes flashed behind his mask. "Is that a challenge, Lieutenant?"
"Calm down, I'm not jealous."
"I never said—"
"—I'm just worried about your reputation. Right now the only ones who know are me and Cheryl, but if this goes on, there's no guarantee we can contain the situation."
"…Cheryl?"
"The omega posted outside the Avatar's cell."
"I see." Amon hadn't forgotten about her. He still needed to have a word with her, but he kept putting it off. He labeled it as being busy preparing for the invasion, but he knew he was just avoiding the issue.
Amon and the Lieutenant didn't speak for the rest of the trip to the storage room. When they finally arrived, Amon made a beeline for the medical supplies and started to rummage around for the suppressants.
"You know," the Lieutenant said carefully, "This would be much easier on you if you just sent a squad of omegas to chuck in the pills. Hell, you can wait outside if you want. Or even better, leave it to the pros and stay on schedule for the invasion. Just please, don't be an idiot and walk in on the Avatar's heat. Again."
The last word made Amon snapped—his hands clenched around the bottle of suppressants he was looking for. He whirled on the Lieutenant as he shoved the pills into his pocket.
"Today will not be like yesterday!" Amon seethed. "I admit I made a mistake, but today—today is—" his eyes fell on the stash of bandages, and he plunged his hand in the bag and fumbled around until he found a handful of cotton balls. He picked two of them out and glared at the Lieutenant fiercely as he shoved them up the nostrils of his mask. "—Today ith…"
Amon knew the Lieutenant well enough to know when he was torn, and it was clear that he was now torn between concern, professionalism, and bursting out laughing. He was wasting his time here. Amon spun on his heel and marched out of the storage room before the Lieutenant could hold him back any longer.
The cotton balls were nearly flawless—even as he was walking down the hall with the Avatar's cell, Amon couldn't smell a thing.
Surprisingly, the hallway was clear except for the omega he had posted outside the cell. At first Amon was relieved for the emptiness, but it quickly turned into dread. Where were the Alphas? Just yesterday there was an entire crown pining outside of the cell.
They know, he thought. He stopped walking and wondered if he should leave before he made things worse. Word's going to get out before the rally, my reputation is ruined—
The omega outside the Avatar's cell spotted him—he saw her eyes widen behind her goggles before she stood to attention.
"Amon, sir," she greeted, saluting. "I'll, uh, I'll…just be going now."
She hung the keys on the cell's doorknob and began to walk away, and Amon couldn't help but feel himself panic for a moment. She knew—those alphas knew—the last thing he needed was for her to jump to conclusions about the nature of today's visit and let more rumors get loose.
"Wait."
The omega stopped and watched him expectantly.
"About yesterday's…incident…"
Amon tried to remember what he had composed in his head. This was all an accident. This was not a part of the plan. Proceed as if nothing ever occurred and say nothing—yet try as he might, Amon was at a loss for words. Finally, he just sighed and shook his head.
"How many of us know?" he asked.
The guard rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. "Oh, not that many. All of the prison guards. Maybe more?"
Amon forgot how to breathe. "What?"
"You uh, you marked your scent in her cell quite effectively, sir. It only started to fade away last night."
Amon groaned and rubbed his temples through the fabric of his hood. There was going to be a lot more damage control than he had originally anticipated.
"I'll…only be a few seconds this time," he muttered.
The omega nodded and began to back away again. "Of course, sir. I'll keep the hallway clear for you."
He glared and raised a finger to correct her, but her back was already turned as she hurried out of the hall. There was nothing left to do but swear under his breath as he unlocked the Avatar's cell and stepped inside. One problem at a time, he told himself. Right now, dealing with the Avatar was his primary concern.
Amon could taste the pheromones on his tongue when he drew in a breath, and his heart nearly missed a beat when he looked at the box. There was no noise coming from inside this time. He was torn between suspicion and worry as he locked the cell door behind himself.
Why isn't she moving? he wondered. He suddenly remembered the look on her face the day before—the hurt and horror in her eyes, as if she had been betrayed—he pushed the thought away and steeled himself. It was not his place to be concerned for her. He convinced himself that it was simply the pheromones talking, and he pushed the cotton balls further up his nose and swallowed thickly as he approached the box.
Toss them in quickly. Don't make eye-contact. Amon pulled the pills out of his pocket and held them up in preparation to throw them. He put his other hand around the latch and exhaled.
Just toss them in. You won't even have to see her. Get it over with. Three…two…one…
Amon began to turn the latch. He didn't even have the chance to pull the door open before it exploded open on its own.
An enormous wave of fire erupted from the box, sending Amon staggering back from the heat. The pills fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. Before he could recollect himself, Korra barreled into him headfirst and slammed him against the nearest wall. Amon finally had the sense to react, but when he tried to push her off of him, he found his hands and feet were stuck to the wall, earthbent in place with small tents of cement.
If that wasn't enough to make him panic, the look on the Avatar's face definitely did it. She was the picture of rage; her teeth bared, nostrils flared, and eyes flashing. And she was most definitely not riddled by heat this time.
"Thought you'd come back for seconds, huh?" she said lowly. "Bet you forgot that I had enough suppressants to last me a week."
Amon scowled and tried to twist out of his restraints, but Korra pinned him against the wall and held a fire dagger to his neck. If he weren't panicking, this might've actually turned him on…oh no.
Amon began to panic more.
"Dambit, that's the last thing I want to do!" Amon snapped. "There's a bottle of pills right there and—look at me, I eben plugged my nose!"
Korra noticed the cotton balls stuck up his mask and rolled her eyes, dissipating the flame and yanking the wads out of his nose. Amon sucked in a breath through his free nostrils and realized that the scent in the room was already fading. If he had to guess, she waited for her heat to become noticeable to catch his attention, and then quenched it with a dose of suppressants right before he arrived.
"Really?" she asked. "You didn't come back for…"
"No!" he burst. "Yesterday was a mistake on multiple levels, do you really think I'd let it happen again?"
Korra raised an eyebrow. "Really now? That's not what I heard yesterday. What's to say if I took advantage of you right now, you wouldn't just roll along with it?"
Amon was speechless for a moment. This entire situation made him far more aroused than he would like to admit, and he needed to regain control of things, fast.
"…Is that an invitation?" Amon asked.
He was intending to call out her bluff, but he quickly realized his mistake. He received a harsh glare and a jab to the throat. Amon gagged and gasped for air as Korra balled her fist in the front of his coat.
"Not my point!" she seethed. "You're a piece of shit for taking advantage of me yesterday!"
"You were in heat!"
"Exactly! What were you doing in here?"
"Delivering those damn pills you aren't taking!"
"Oh, so now you're a saint for not being as big of a jerk as you were yesterday?"
"I was only coming to give you the suppressants, damn it! They were right in my hand before you jumped all over me!"
"I jumped all over you? You're the one that walked in on my heat!"
"Enough!" he blurted. "Do you need more suppressants or are you just wasting my time?"
Korra blinked once, and her gaze of steel softened to one of seriousness.
"I need food. I haven't eaten in three days. I can hardly keep the suppressants down anymore."
Amon narrowed his eyes. "Food would only lend you strength. You're an easier opponent in your current state."
The return of her furious glare—not to mention the fact that he was still glued to the wall—was enough to remind him that she was powerful enough as is.
"So that's a no?" she asked in disbelief.
"You'll find no sympathy from me, Avatar."
The wounded look on her face made it seem like she had been expecting the handout, or at the very least some admission of compassion. Korra scowled and shook her head.
"Fine! Then water. I can't last much longer without it."
Amon scoffed. "Do you think I'm a fool? I will not provide any bending materials that would aid in your escape."
Korra jerked back on his coat before shoving him into the wall much harder than before. His vision flashed white as his head connected with the concrete, and he groaned.
"No bending materials, huh?" Korra said. He noticed for the first time that her eyes, still wide with blind rage, weren't quite focused on his. "Listen here—I have been sitting in that hellhole of a box for two days with both fire and water, and neither have been able to make a dent in that platinum. Yeah, water! You ever been desperate enough to make an ice blade out of your own sweat, piss and tears? I'd be using it to castrate you if it hadn't evaporated. I can barely feel my tongue it's gotten so dry, and I can't remember the last time I peed. If I don't get water soon, I'm not going to make it to your precious rally in two days, do you hear me?"
Amon swallowed thickly. This girl was unstable when she was angry, not to mention that she was already delirious. He was starting to understand why Tarrlok became desperate enough to bloodbend her. He would have to keep the situation under control so it didn't come to that…
"It's not that simple," he said carefully. "I can't just bring you water and not expect you to esca—"
Korra cut him off with a brutal punch to the gut. Amon wheezed and doubled over as much as his restraints let him.
"Escape?" she offered. "Yeah. I should have done that when you got here."
She patted down his coat until she found the keys, and she pulled them out triumphantly. Amon's heart began to sped up as he panicked. So much for control.
"And to think you used to scare me," she remarked. "Good thing I got to know you well enough to call your bluffs."
She punched him in the throat again for good measure—Amon choked and struggled to gag down a gulp of air. Amon began to panic as she strode over to the door victoriously. The guard had left the hallway and had promised to keep it clear for him. Amon stomached through his pain and fought to wriggle out of his restraints, but to no avail. The Avatar wasn't even chi-blocked—who was going to stop her?
Korra was just putting the key in the lock when he gave in and reached out with his mind.
A tense moment of silence passed as Amon focused his grip to freeze her in place. Right away he could feel her heartbeat, the patterns of her veins. He could feel her struggle against his control, feel her heart speeding up as she panicked. It took less than a second before he won out and forced her to flex her trembling hand, sending the keys clattering to the floor. Korra's eyes, wide with fright, flicked over to him.
"Y-you…too?" she gasped, struggling to speak through the force of his grip.
Amon didn't answer, merely dragging her away from the door. Her face twitched in pain as he pulled her back.
"It was you!" she said. "He was warning me about you…both of you!"
Amon frowned. "Who?"
"Aang! He told me about Yakone, bloodbending without the full moon, psychic bloodbending—you're a fake—you're a bender and that's probably just the beginning of the lies, isn't it? I can tell everyone—"
Amon silenced her by twisting her shoulders back. Korra winced and screwed her eyes shut.
"The only thing you're going to be doing is releasing me," Amon growled.
Korra opened one eye and glared at him with it. "I knew that wasn't a real scar, it was smudging all over my face yesterday—"
That did it. Amon crushed down on his grip. Korra rose into the air, her limbs twisting against themselves at unnatural angles. The crackle of sinew popping over bone filled the air, and her eyes bulged in pain. From there he squeezed, constricting her blood vessels until she screamed.
"Stop it…stop it, please!" she rasped.
Amon blinked and dropped her back to the floor, where she landed on her hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably. Amon felt a sharp twinge of guilt and looked away from her uncomfortably.
"Release me," he muttered. Korra didn't respond, but after a moment she thrust out a fist, and the cement crumbled away from his hands and feet. He stepped away from the wall in relief, and looked down at her again. She had one hand hugging herself while the other held her up. Amon walked over and stood over her, but she didn't lift her head.
Amon let out a deep sigh before extending his hand and bloodbending her again, this time being as gentle as possible as he lifted her from the floor. This time it almost hurt to watch her struggling in his grip. She kept her eyes shut defiantly, and he noticed a trail of blood leaking from her nose. He silently cursed himself for letting go of his temper.
He guided her back into the box, and right before he shut the door, she spoke again.
"Please. If I have to stay here, I will. Just please give me water."
Amon looked at her carefully. The trickle of blood above her lip was already drying up. The Avatar was a powerful being, but she was still human. Would she really make it two more days without water?
Amon almost wished she could see the remorse on his face.
"I can't."
With that he closed the box. He grimaced and stuck his hand in his hood to rub the back of his neck. His instincts were telling him to reopen the box and do something, but he knew it wasn't his place. Amon shook his head and forced himself towards the door, picking up the keys from the floor as he went.
He thought he heard her say something as he opened the door, but it was drowned out by the squeak of the hinges. Amon frowned and shut the door again before turning around.
"What?"
"Birth control," she said. "A morning-after pill. I forgot to ask. Anything, just please, I don't want to…"
She trailed off, but she didn't have to say any more.
"That can be arranged," he said.
Amon reopened the door and left. He was relieved to see that the hallway was still empty—not only did nobody overhear what happened, but he had been right in deciding to bloodbend. He straightened his jacket and strode off. He had one more delivery to make to her, and then she was none of his concern. He could spend the rest of the day conquering the city.
Maybe he couldn't deny his emotions. But he still knew his priorities. The revolution was at hand, and when push came to shove, the Avatar would have to be destroyed.
Edit: I was laughing up until the end. I made myself sad.
Don't ask about Cheryl. I thought I was being funny.
Before any of you asks if Korra is pregnant: no. No, because this is not one of those stories. If any higher power FORCED me to write such a monstrosity, I would end the story quickly with either Amon or Korra killing the fetus with their bare hands. This entire story is about HOW MUCH THIS DOESN'T WORK? THE TWO OF THEM HATE EACH OTHER!
Got it? Good. Now, onto the cuddling.
