sunspearviper: [ S P O O K S ]  An AU LoK based around the British Intelligence Service. K

sunspearviper: [ S P O O K S ]  An AU LoK based around the British Intelligence Service. Korra is a bright young field agent with a bit of a reputation and a knack for getting herself into trouble. She and her team will stop at nothing to bring Amon and his drug-running supergang down. Eventual Amon/Korra. One-sided Mako/Korra. A cheeky bit of Bolin/Jinora.  chapter one chapter two “I told you I’d find you,” he hisses close to her ear; and she would recognise that voice anywhere. She shudders, chills erupting on her bare arms and shoulder blades. If she could turn around she would see the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and be overcome with the urge to slap it straight off. “You’ll be a good girl, and be quiet,” she murmurs a loud protest, “or my marksmen will do what they’re paid for,” and then she falls deathly silent. She is not hazy enough with morphine and lack of sleep to misunderstand that.  How had he gotten into the house? Tenzin was a government official, under the official protection of the state and country. If she was not safe from him here, where could she be safe? Panic rises in her stomach like bile, and she is worried that if he doesn’t take his hand away from her mouth she might soon be sick.  “Quiet, now,” he almost coos, and lazily removes his hand. It is replaced with the caress of a blade, freshly sharpened against the delicate skin of her neck. She complies, if only for the sake of Tenzin’s slumbering wife and children.  “What do you want with me?” she manages to choke out, her voice low in her throat. It is an idiotic question, but at least it is better than quaking silently in terror. Her fingers are trembling, but his grip on her arms is tight enough that she can’t put her hands in her hoodie pocket, to hide it, that terrible fear of him. This man who can follow her from Shanghai to London whilst under surveillance of the best analysts in the business; this man who breaks into politicians houses like it is playtime; this man who draws drops of crimson from her skin without second thought, then offers her a monogrammed handkerchief when he is done with her and lets her loose.  “I should’ve thought that was obvious,” he purrs, brutal and enthralling all at once. “You were a passing whim, a fancy, of sorts,” he continues, “but now - now it seems as if there is a personal vendetta between you and I.” -- source link

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