The Tortured Poets Department Epilogue - Taylor Swift

And when I don’t belong, Oh you say I am yours.

I sold my soul to colour this… :’)

Mika Schneider

a smile remained SAT at her lips as tenzin & pema's figures began traveling towards the harbour, slowly swallowed by darkness of the night sea. only once they were gone did she cant her head to the side to find a likely overdrawn grin on @inkorrnate's mouth ⸻ & her eyes roamed for a moment to find the rest of her was much the same. it ALSO didn't go unnoticed that they had only been three children apart ever since korra had sailed in.

she stepped over the imagined barrier uncaringly & wandered over, an eyebrow raised, a hand hitched against her hip as she spoke for korra's ears only,   “ — you sure you're sure  about not backing out tonight ? i won't hold it against you if you do, you know — ... ”

the sound of meelo declaring ' a pool party ! ' as he launched himself towards the edge of the chilly docks had her immediately choking back on her words, her hand planting itself on korra's arm ⸻ -

“ — or maybe i would actually. ”

korrasami won my first patreon poll !

there was increased breathing, sounds of an internal struggle before green eyes vied for her, " — korra. " — hands that were splayed open this time, waiting & wanting hers to fall in. she welcomed her, guilt-ridden & concerned only for her. like they were meeting after years apart. she bent down, held her tight with an arm wound around her,

so she could rest her chin on the avatar's shoulder & hunt for shadows under the door now that she wasn't being watched like a dragon-hawk. not surprisingly she found no signs of extra security outside. people always underestimated her, but she had learned a long time ago how she could use that to her advantage, like now, when she had her nosing into her neck, falling for it once again— there was no need to fix something that was working so faultlessly. another moment was given to asses the room in full, a pile of her usual clothes sitting on the desk in the corner of the room, taunting her like a sign of her expected transformation at the will of the avatar. she hated to give in like this, let her have what she wanted so desperately when her biggest weapon right now was resisting ( she couldn't lie about how good it felt to deny her, to be the one to personally take something from her. she'd waited so long for a moment just like this ) — but she'd spent the last few hours considering her options & becoming the asami everyone knew once more would give her an easier way forward. " something... must've gone wrong with the transformation if it didn't stick, " she contemplated groggily, pulling away to press the heel of her hand against her temple, eyes twitching shut, " it was like one really long bad dream... — how- long has it been ? "

The aches of a body knelt unmoving for too long are distant. Unimportant. All Korra knows is the wringing of hands ( intertwined, but only in her own; alone ) and the sick pit in her stomach.

Their stilted back and forths have long since lapsed, but that's not deterred the occasional hopeful glance— reading distance, demeanour, and most importantly,

searching for a tenderness she's always known in @satogem's eyes.

Korra's not expecting the sudden rustle hours into this dejection, almost trips over her prickling legs at the sound of

❝I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me.❞

and wants to sob from sheer relief.

❝Asami, ❞ ( I'm so sorry, thank the Spirits, I'm so sorry )

The smile pushes through the wet, slowly. ❝ - that's okay. I knew you'd break through Guan's conditioning.❞ because it's Asami, because what they have is stronger than anything anyone can throw their way.

Hands finally wrap around hers, righted.

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