The Demon Lord and The Demon Queen - kweni13 (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“I’ll get back to you on that, Op. I just had to get through this day,” Asami sighed on the phone.

A light chuckle resonated on the other line. “I understand, Asami. Let me know if you’ll make it to the party later, okay?”

“I will, Op. Thanks,” she replied before ending the call.

Asami Sato sat back in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes. Her cluttered study was dimly lit by the soft glow of her laptop, papers, and textbooks scattered around. She returned her focus to the screen, where her thesis on renewable energy systems in urban environments awaited further revision.

The engineering student couldn’t help but marvel at how close she was to graduation. Her defense was the only thing standing between her and her dreams of revolutionizing the engineering world. With that thought, she set to work on her thesis.

She was suddenly pulled from her work when her phone rang beside her. Glancing at the time, Asami was shocked to see it was already nine in the evening. I've been writing for five hours! Shaking her head, she answered the call from Opal.

“Asami! Where are you? You didn’t get back to me about attending the party!” her best friend yelled over the loud music in the background.

“I’m so sorry, Op! I was so engrossed in my thesis I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” she apologized.

She heard Opal sigh. “Okay. But are you still coming?”

Pausing, Asami looked at her thesis. The words and diagrams on the screen blurred as her thoughts drifted. Memories of her college years surfaced, not all of them pleasant. She remembered the sneers, the whispered comments when she walked into the lab, the feeling of being an outsider in her own department. There were times when the laughter seemed to echo in her ears long after it had stopped, times when she questioned her place in the engineering world.

Nerd.

She’s just daddy’s little girl that’s why she gets good grades.

Bet she spreads her legs for the dean.

These memories weighed on her, casting a shadow over the invitation to the party. Part of her hesitated, fearing a repeat of those painful experiences. Could she face those same people now, in a setting where academic achievements didn’t shield her?

But then, a new resolve sparked within her. She had come so far, surmounted so many challenges. This was her moment, her victory lap. Attending the party wasn't just about socializing; it was about showing that she had persevered and that she was more than the words and judgments of others.

With a deep breath, Asami straightened up. “Yes, Opal. I’ll be there in twenty.”

She was not the same person who had walked into college four years ago. She was stronger, more confident. And she would show them.

“Yes!” Opal squealed. “See you later because I’m dying to introduce you to someone! He’s so handsome!”

“Opal!!” Asami admonished, already sensing her friend’s ulterior motive. Despite telling Opal she wasn’t interested in a relationship, it seemed her friend had other plans. “We’ll talk later. Bye.”

“Bye, Asami!”

With a deep sigh, Asami stood up and stretched her aching back. Then, she found herself captivated by the full, bright moon outside her window, as if it were calling to her. Beautiful, she thought. Shaking off the moment, she went to her closet to get ready.

—

Stepping outside, Asami was immediately greeted by the biting chill of winter. She silently thanked herself for choosing extra layers earlier. She was wrapped in a cozy red wool sweater beneath her thick brown coat, which comfortably insulated her against the cold. Her outfit was completed with snug jeans and sturdy leather boots, perfect for braving the frosty evening air.

Asami pulled her phone from her purse and quickly texted Opal: “On my way to the party.” Slipping the phone back, she resumed walking, her breath visible in the crisp night air. But something felt amiss. A strange unease crept over her, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling with a sense of foreboding. She glanced up at the moon, seeking some comfort in its glow, but found it obscured by a creeping shroud of clouds.

Quickening her pace, Asami tried to dismiss the unsettling feeling. However, her attempt was cut short when three men in large hooded cloaks emerged from the shadows, blocking her path. A cold knot of fear formed in her stomach. She spun around, hoping for an escape, only to find another trio silently closing in behind her. Trapped and her heart pounding, Asami realized the gravity of her situation.

Subtly, her hand slipped into her purse, fingers closing around the familiar shape of her pepper spray. If these goons think I’m some damsel in distress, they’re gravely mistaken, she thought, steeling herself for what might come next.

One of the men stepped forward, his movements deliberate and menacing. Asami’s grip on the pepper spray tightened, ready to defend herself. The man’s voice, muffled by the hood, sent a chill down her spine, “You, Asami Sato, are coming with us.”

The night air, once just cold, now felt charged with danger. Asami’s mind raced, weighing her options. Fight? Flee? Her eyes darted around, searching for any advantage she might use. The realization that these men knew her name only heightened her alarm. Who were they? What did they want with her? Despite the fear, she resolved not to show her panic, her stance defiant yet cautious. Asami Sato was not one to surrender easily.

When the man took another step toward her, Asami acted swiftly. She whipped out her pepper spray and unleashed a stinging mist directly into his face. As he staggered back, clutching at his eyes, she spun around and executed a high kick. The heel of her left boot connected solidly with the stomach of another assailant, who grunted in pain and doubled over.

Using the momentum, Asami pivoted towards the next closest attacker. Her mind was clear, focused, despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She ducked as one of the cloaked figures lunged at her, narrowly avoiding his grasp. With a quick jab, she delivered a punishing blow to his midsection, forcing him to retreat.

But the fight was far from over. The men, recovering from their initial shock, began to coordinate their movements, attempting to outflank her. Asami knew she couldn’t let them. She scanned her surroundings quickly, looking for an escape route or a weapon. Spotting a loose brick on the ground nearby, she lunged for it, grasping it firmly. I need to get out of here, she thought, her survival instincts fully ignited.

However, before she could even plan her escape, she felt a sharp prick on her neck. Instinctively, Asami swatted at the spot, and her fingers brushed against a needle. That was the last thing she registered before everything went black.

—

It was dark, except for the flickering candles encircling her.

As Asami regained consciousness, she found herself uncomfortably bound on a stone slab. She was dressed in nothing but a thin, white dress—well, more an oversized shirt than a dress. A swirl of emotions churned within her: anger at being so vulnerably exposed, shame at the indignity, and an undercurrent of fear.

Straining her eyes, she tried to make out her surroundings, but the unsettling dance of candlelight obscured her vision. From what she could discern, she was in a large cave. The air was damp and cold, sending shivers down her spine. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like jagged teeth, and the walls glistened with moisture. The echo of distant water droplets created an eerie symphony. Where in the world am I? she wondered silently. Republic City had no caves, at least none that she was aware of.

Panic began to rise in her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. Think, Asami, think. There has to be a way out of this. She tested the restraints, assessing her situation. Who brought me here? Why? What do they want from me? Asami’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but beneath it all, a spark of determination flickered. She knew she couldn’t give up. She had to find a way out, to understand what was happening.

Another tug at the rope, and Asami noticed it was quite loose. Idiots, she thought, smirking at her captors’ overconfidence. She managed to free one hand when she heard them approaching, their voices chanting something unintelligible. Quickly, she placed her hand back, feigning her bonds and pretending to be unconscious.

She heard their feet shuffling into place around the slab and the sound of a book being opened, their chants resuming. Then, a voice spoke over the rest, echoing through the cave. It sent chills down Asami’s spine; it was the man who had spoken to her before her abduction.

“O, Korrazaarion the Dread, Lord of the Underworld, we beseech you. Accept our offering and grace us with your presence. Through this sacred ritual, we invoke your power.”

Asami’s eyes widened in horror as she realized their intent. They were going to use her as a sacrifice to summon this demon lord. Silently, she tugged her other hand free and abruptly sat up, causing the man to halt and the acolytes to cease their chanting. He berated them but quickly ordered them to subdue her again. Asami fought back fiercely, managing to land a solid punch on one, but they were too many. She was overpowered and tied up again, this time more securely.

The ritual resumed. The man leading it stepped into her view, holding an ancient-looking tome in one hand and a wavy dagger in the other, pointed ominously downward at her.

Asami’s heart raced. Is this it? Is this how it ends? Without graduating, without saying goodbye to my dad, to Opal? Her thoughts raced with regret and unfulfilled dreams.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the man spoke again, “O, Demon Lord, we offer the flesh and blood of this mortal. Manifest among us, and bestow upon us your dark blessing!”

Asami shut her eyes tightly, her mind flooded with images of her loved ones. In those final, tense moments, she silently bid farewell, bracing for the cold bite of the blade.

She waited for the inevitable, but the sharp pain that was supposed to come from the blade never came. Instead, a sudden gust of wind roared through the cavern, halting the man’s strike mid-air. The wind intensified, whipping around the chamber, forcing the man and his acolytes to grasp desperately at anything within reach to maintain their balance.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the wind ceased, pulling the air from the cave like a vacuum. An eerie silence fell, punctuated only by the ragged breaths of the cultists. Everyone was frozen, a mix of anticipation and fear etched on their faces.

A blinding flash of light erupted, forcing Asami to squeeze her eyes shut again. She waited, heart pounding, until the brilliance faded to a bearable level. Cautiously, she opened her eyes and craned her neck to see the source of the disturbance. The candles flickered back to life, casting dancing shadows across the walls. In the center of the cave, where there had been only empty space before, now stood a figure amidst dissipating smoke.

Asami’s breath caught in her throat. There, in the heart of the cave, was a woman like no other she had ever seen. She was garbed in black ancient robes, split down the middle to reveal a torso of pure, sculpted muscle. Her skin was a dark, reddish hue that seemed to absorb and reflect the candlelight in an ethereal glow. She was tall—taller than her—and looming. But it was her eyes that held Asami captive – bright blue, otherworldly, piercing through the darkness straight into Asami’s soul, sending involuntary shivers cascading down her spine.

This was Korrazaarion, the Dread Sovereign, the Demon Lord.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

“f*cking hell! I just got home!” the Demon Lord exclaimed, her voice echoing with irritation throughout her room.

She had barely returned from an unwanted summons to the Upper Realm, and now, another group of impudent humans was attempting to call her forth. “f*cking uncouth humans,” she muttered, her tone laced with annoyance. Determined not to let them complete their amateurish “ritual,” the Demon Lord took matters into her own hands. With an exasperated sigh, she transported herself to the Upper Realm, ready to confront these persistent summoners.

In an instant, Korrazaarion was surrounded by the familiar chorus of gasps and murmurs. As the Demon Lord, she was well accustomed to the sacrifices these feeble humans presented, all in their vain attempts to catch a glimpse of her or to beseech her for her powers.

However, this time, something was different. For the first time, she found herself captivated by the sacrifice before her.

The woman was not just beautiful; she was breathtaking. There was an undeniable elegance about her, even in her disheveled state that suggested a recent struggle. Perhaps she had indeed fought off a dozen men, the Demon Lord mused. Her eyes traced the lines of determination etched on the woman’s face, the way her hair fell in disarray yet seemed to frame her features perfectly. The raw intensity in her eyes spoke of strength, defiance, and an unbreakable spirit.

Korrazaarion felt an unfamiliar stirring within her— a mix of admiration, curiosity, and something stronger. It was a flicker of desire...lust, and she felt tingling in her core. It was as if this human, this unexpected sacrifice, was more than just another summoning ritual casualty. She was someone who could hold her own, someone who possessed an inner fire that resonated with the Demon Lord’s own essence.

Maybe being forced to come to the Upper Realm wasn’t so bad after all.

She was pulled away from her staring when the man holding a dagger walked around the stone slab on which the stunning woman was tied. Then he bowed.

“O, Great Korrazaarion, the Dread Sovereign,” he greeted, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and awe as he bowed deeply, his forehead pressing into the cold ground. “It was by your forbearing grace that we dared to summon you, the Eternal Nightbringer, the Keeper of Forbidden Knowledge. We, your humble servants, prostrate ourselves before your mighty visage, seeking the honor of your presence and the wisdom of your ageless counsel.”

His acolytes, arrayed in a semi-circle around the stone slab, mirrored his gesture, each bowing low with a reverence born of both devotion and terror. In unison, they chanted, “All hail Korrazaarion, the Unseen Shadow, the Whisper in the Darkness, our guide through realms untold and mysteries unspoken.”

A flash of irritation flared within the Demon Lord. She turned her body fully towards them, ready to address these acolytes decisively. “Rise,” she commanded, her deep voice reverberating through the cave.

The man and his acolytes stood, their movements deliberate and respectful. Beneath their hoods, the Demon Lord could discern the worshipful gazes directed at her, prompting her to click her tongue in annoyance. Yet, her irritation quickly morphed into anger as the cult leader spoke again, his words dripping with veneration.

“O, Magnificent Korrazaarion, the Dread Sovereign, the Unfathomable Darkness, we present to you this maiden as a humble offering. Mayhaps you have hungered during your journey from the Nether World to here. We hope that she will satisfy your hunger. May this sacrifice, this pure soul, find favor in your sight,” the leader proclaimed, gesturing reverently toward the woman behind him.

The Demon Lord did feel a hunger, but of a different nature than they presumed. But she needed to put aside these distractions, especially when she saw fear underneath the defiance of the beautiful woman on the slab. It was crucial to put an end to this misguided ritual of sacrifice once and for all.

“What is your name?” she asked the leader, whose eyes shone with delight.

“It’s Jhang, my Lord,” he replied, his voice trembling with anticipation.

The Demon Lord looked at him. “Jhang. What a common name for a man of your status.”

Jhang shook his head. “Everything is common compared to your magnificence, O, Lord Korrazaarion!”

Suddenly, he gasped for breath as the Demon Lord abruptly grabbed his neck, easily lifting him off the ground. “Tell me, Jhang,” she emphasized his name with a squeeze on his neck, “who told you that I would be pleased with human sacrifices?”

Jhang struggled for breath, his eyes almost bulging out of his sockets. The men behind him gasped and bowed, pleading for her to release him.

But the Demon Lord did not relent. Instead, she tightened her grip even more. “If he can't answer, one of you must, or he dies.”

One of the acolytes stood and then groveled at her feet. “O, Dread Sovereign. I-it was in the tome. It is an ancient ritual passed down from generations, my Lord,” he stammered nervously.

“Where is this book?”

A different acolyte timidly handed her the tome, trembling and whimpering as she snatched it from his hands. Without so much as a glance, she incinerated it with a fire she conjured in her palm. The acolytes gasped in horror, and she was sure the leader, still in her grasp, would too if he could.

The Demon Lord shoved the cult leader to the ground and took a step towards the acolytes, who recoiled in fear. f*cking cowards . The candles around her flared furiously, fueled by her growing rage. “Do you realize how many senseless souls have ended up in the Underworld because of your foolish belief that I will ‘bestow upon you unimaginable powers’ or whatever nonsense that book taught you!?” she roared, startling the cultists and the woman alike.

“I sit quietly in my home, and yet here you are, incessantly calling out to me for millennia!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I don’t even want to be here! You filthy humans have defied the natural order time and time again! I want nothing to do with you! So, stop this utter nonsense. This is the 1219th time I’m delivering this lecture, and I dearly hope it’s the last! Because I swear, if another cult or whatever tries this stunt again, the Upper Realm will face the dire consequences of my wrath!”

The acolytes whimpered in fear at her outburst, scrambling to their feet and racing toward the exit—except for the leader, Jhang, who was still catching his breath. When the Demon Lord made eye contact, he flinched, remaining on the floor as he crawled backward until he was cornered. Korrazaarion advanced slowly, menacingly towards him. He cowered in place, covering his face with his arms.

“Please, my Lord. W-we didn’t realize you felt that way,” he begged, his voice trembling.

The Demon Lord’s lips twitched in annoyance. “Of course, you didn’t. How could you, when you disgusting humans only know how to take and never give!”

Jhang wailed. “Please spare me, my Lord! I swear I will never touch another tome or summon you and any other demons again!”

She was about to strike him when another voice echoed throughout the cave, halting her movement.

“Stop!”

It was the woman.

***

Asami didn’t know what compelled her to intervene, to stop the literal Demon Lord from striking her captor, but she couldn’t just stand idly by and watch someone get killed, especially someone who was desperately begging for their life. Yet, as the Demon Lord turned around, Asami immediately regretted her impulsive action. Oh, f*ck. She’s coming over here!

She tugged frantically at her bonds, but unlike the first time, they wouldn't budge. Panic gripped Asami as the Demon Lord slowly made her way toward her, making her struggles increasingly desperate. All of a sudden, Korrazaarion was looming beside her. The aspiring engineer gulped, her skin clammy with fear-induced sweat.

Just when she thought the Demon Lord would end her life, Asami caught sight of the most disarmingly dashing smile she had ever seen. What the hell? Korrazaarion snapped her fingers, and the ropes binding Asami to the slab disintegrated into ashes. Asami blinked rapidly, utterly shocked by the sudden turn of events.

“Wha-” Her words were cut short as the Demon Lord gently touched her bruised wrists. The unexpected tenderness of the touch sent an inexplicable shiver through Asami. It was like when her crush held her hand for the first time. Her heart raced, and her breath hitched in her throat, a reaction that bewildered her. There was a softness in the Demon Lord’s blue eyes that she hadn’t anticipated, a gentleness that contradicted everything she had been conditioned to expect from a being of such formidable legend.

But almost as quickly as it came, Asami mentally brushed off the fluttering in her chest. It was absurd, she told herself, to even entertain the notion of being attracted to a demon, let alone the lord of all demons. She attributed the racing of her heart to fear, the adrenaline of the moment, anything but the warm, confusing sensation sparked by the touch of Korrazaarion’s hand. It had to be the stress of the situation , she reasoned, trying to anchor herself back to reality and away from the perplexing thoughts clouding her mind.

“I’m sorry they did this to you in my name,” the Demon Lord whispered tenderly, her voice a stark contrast to the fearsome being Asami had seen. The unexpected gentleness pulled Asami back from her bewildering thoughts. Then, with a graceful twirl of her free hand, Korrazaarion conjured a sphere of water in the air. The aspiring engineer gasped, her awe tinged with a hint of fear at the display of power. But then Korrazaarion gently applied the glowing water to her wrist, and the soreness and bruising began to fade.

“How?” Asami breathed out, her eyes wide with wonder.

The Demon Lord chuckled, a sound far less ominous than expected. “I’m a demon, remember?”

Heat rushed to Asami’s cheeks in a wave of embarrassment. Of course, she had magical powers. “Oh, right,” she stammered, trying to mask her fluster with a cough. Another laugh slipped from the Demon Lord’s lips, and to Asami’s surprise, she found herself wanting to hear more of it. “T-thanks,” she managed to say after Korrazaarion finished healing all her bruises.

“What’s your name?” the Demon Lord suddenly asked.

“A-Asami. Asami Sato,” she replied, her gaze lingering on the Demon Lord’s face, captivated. Compelled by a curious impulse, she found herself asking, “You’re Korrazaarion, right?”

Korrazarion smiled, a gesture that seemed to soften her formidable aura. “Yes. At least, that was what the common people call me. But actually, my full name would be Korraavaatu Azarion Zephyristal Ralvallod Mazzath Jarromiun Gargramon Tonothoris Ra’s Al Ghul.”

Asami’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the length and complexity of the name. It must have shown on her face because the Demon Lord let out a booming laughter that caused the cave to tremble slightly.

“I know, my name is quite long for you mortals. But you may call me Korra,” the Demon Lord said with a wink.

Asami felt her cheeks heat up at the unexpected shift in the atmosphere. It was almost like the Demon Lord was...flirting with her. But that’s impossible! She mentally chastised herself even as a blush spread across her face. “Korra…” Asami repeated, more softly this time, rolling the Demon Lord’s name off her tongue. Despite her confusion, she liked how it sounded - maybe a little too much.

But then she gasped as Korra suddenly moved closer, and the next thing Asami knew, the Demon Lord’s face was mere inches from her own. Her heart raced uncontrollably, a mix of fear and an inexplicable thrill pulsing through her. However, Korra’s next words were what shocked Asami to the core.

“Asami Sato, will you be my Demon Queen?”

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

“Asami Sato, will you be my Demon Queen?”

“What?”

The world around her seemed to disappear. Her ears started ringing. The Demon Lord inched closer, causing Asami to crawl backward, gulping from nervousness or perhaps something else—Asami couldn’t tell.

“You heard me. I asked, “Will you be my Demon Queen?”

What the hell? Who would ever want that? “Why would I accept your proposal?”

Korra chuckled darkly. “Then you’d even be more powerful. More powerful than you currently are.”

“W-what?” Asami felt like a broken record.

“Asami Sato, right? You’re the daughter of Hiroshi Sato. You’ve been bullied and used all your life because of your status. You don’t have many friends, except for that girl who invited you to the party. Your ex-boyfriend cheated on you...and your mother... I’m sorry to hear about your mother. But what I’m saying is, you’ve lived your life fairly, but where did that get you? A life of misery,” Korra said.

“H-how did you know all that?” Asami asked, her head spinning from the barrage of personal details being laid out before her.

“I can know someone just by touching them,” the Demon Lord simply said.

What the hell? That’s invasion of privacy! Even though she should be angry, a voice deep down inside her told her that maybe Korra, knowing her, would be for the best. That someone would finally understand her. With that thought, Asami shook her head. “Okay, so what if I hypothetically accepted your proposal? What would I get, and what would you get out of this?”

Korra stood up and smirked. “You get to be my wife, of course. You’ll become the Demon Queen, but not until you’ve lived out your mortal life. You’ll rule the Upper Realm, or this world, instead. Then, when your time on Earth is over, you’ll rule the Underworld beside me. Oh, and sex, of course!”

“Sex?” Out of all the things Korra said, sex was the one thing she had retained. Asami blanched at the idea. She hadn’t had sex before. She knew of it from the books and sex ed classes, but she never tried it. Even with her ex-boyfriend. She didn’t feel safe from him and that was why he cheated. But with how attractive Korra was and her budding feelings, then maybe… “What if I want to go to heaven instead?” she asked instead, shaking her head and trying to get her mind out of the gutter.

“Pfft!” Korra let out a mocking laugh, shaking her head in amusem*nt. “You mean the Higher Realm? Oh, please. I wouldn’t want to go there if I were you.”

“And why is that?” Asami challenged, crossing her arms and making her breasts more prominent. It didn’t escape the Demon Lord’s gaze as her eyes briefly flickered down. Feeling a blush creep up her cheeks, Asami uncrossed her arms.

Korra met her eyes again, gesturing dismissively with a wave of her hand. “For one, it’s sooo boring there,” she drawled, rolling her eyes dramatically as if recalling a particularly dull memory. “Second, the guy running things there? An old man with a bald head, long beard, and he always drones on and on about a ‘guy who never ate.’ He’s the most boring of all! Trust me, you don’t want to be there. And third, do you know Hypatia of Alexandria?”

“Y-yes. Why?” Asami didn’t know where their conversation was headed.

“Well, if you were to meet her now, you wouldn’t recognize her as the genius she once was. Her brain turned to mush because the promised ‘paradise’...” Korra emphasized the word “paradise” with a tone of disgust, “..turns your brain to mush. It means that all of your wishes and dreams are supposedly granted with a snap of your fingers. You won’t have to work hard for anything. And knowing how you love to use that big brain of yours, you wouldn’t want to end up like that, would you?” Korra was practically beaming, confident that she was swaying the argument in her favor.

“She what?! f*ck…” Asami muttered, the realization dawning on her. No. She didn’t want her brain to turn into mush. However, despite Korra’s vivid description, the aspiring engineer doubted that heaven, or the Higher Realm, was as bad as depicted. Still, she pondered the proposition, her mind weaving through the tapestry of her past. She thought of the people who had hurt her, all the times she had stayed silent. Her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to blame her for his own infidelity. The “friends” who leveraged her name and wealth, only to betray her when it suited them. “Never again,” she vowed silently, feeling a resolve hardening within her.

There were so many things that could go wrong if she accepted Korra’s proposal, but the benefits… With a newfound determination glittering in her eyes, Asami looked up at Korra and said, “I accept your proposal.” It was a statement, not a question—a declaration of her readiness to embrace a new, formidable chapter.

Korra’s smirk widened into a triumphant grin. She raised her hands, and celebratory flames erupted behind her. As the flames danced and then subsided, they revealed a swirling portal to the demon realm. Korra extended her hand, a silent invitation to a shared destiny. Asami took it without hesitation, and together, they stepped through the portal, embarking on a path fraught with power and the promise of retribution.

As they stepped through the portal, Asami braced herself for the Underworld she had always imagined – dark, fiery, barren, a realm of endless torment with moaning souls. However, what unfolded before her eyes was astonishingly different.

The Underworld was bustling with activity. Souls and demons worked side by side, constructing vast arrays of apartment-like structures that stretched as far as the eye could see. Elsewhere, groups were tending to lush, otherworldly gardens, while others seemed engaged in various forms of art and craftsmanship. It was a place vibrant with life and purpose, not the desolate wasteland she had been led to believe existed.

Korra seemed to catch onto her surprise, nudging her gently. “Not what you were expecting?”

Asami jumped slightly at the touch. “Y-yeah,” she admitted, her eyes still scanning the unexpected vista.

Korra let out a light chuckle. “It’s quite similar to your world in some ways. However, here, everyone contributes. Everyone works to keep this realm stable and functional, blah blah blah...” Her voice trailed off with a playful smirk.

“Oh,” Asami responded, still absorbing the scene around her.

Korra then extended her hand again, which Asami took without hesitation. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Asami replied, a sense of adventure beginning to stir within her as they ventured deeper into the heart of the Underworld.

“So, how…I mean…” the aspiring engineer began to ask as they walked hand in hand. She was unsure how to inquire about the specifics of their impending nuptials. But again, for some reason, Korra had managed to read her mind.

“The wedding is almost the same as your world—except for the part that we need to drink each other’s blood,” Korra explained. Her tone was serious, but there was a teasing glint in her otherworldly blue eyes.

“Are you teasing me, or is this for real? Please, just be straightforward with me.”

Korra laughed, the sound resonating warmly between them. “I’m serious, I promise. You’ll see later.” Then the Demon Lord released her hand and clapped once. “Mako! Bolin!” Suddenly, a gust of air swirled in front of them, and two human-like demons materialized. They kneeled, their heads bowed. “Yes, my Lord? What do you need of us?” the one with spiky hair asked.

“Rise,” Korra commanded. As they stood, she continued, “Ready the altar. My Lady Asami, your future Queen, and I will be wedded tonight. Bolin, help Asami get dressed.”

The stockier one, Bolin, lit up with excitement. “Really? Oh, gosh! After so many millennia of trying to hook you up with some of the ladies I know, you finally found the one to like!” he exclaimed, jumping and clapping.

Asami felt an odd twinge inside her when Bolin mentioned hooking Korra up with others. She couldn’t quite place why it bothered her, but she decided to push it aside for now. But what did bother her was her weird reaction. She didn’t even bat an eye when Korra mentioned they’d be drinking each other’s blood, yet imagining her being with someone else stirred something within her. What is wrong with me? Her reverie was interrupted as Bolin bowed and gestured for her to follow him.

She glanced at Korra, who gave her a reassuring nod as if to say, “You can trust him.”

Asami smiled and mouthed, “Thank you,” which visibly brightened Korra’s expression.

With that, she followed Bolin to wherever he was taking her, stepping further into her new, extraordinary future.

—

Asami watched as Bolin frantically showcased every gown and dress in his arsenal, his movements a blur of eager determination. Yet none of them spoke to her. They were all either stark black or pure white, which, by now, didn’t surprise her. Everything in the Underworld seemed to mirror the living world in some ways. Even “her” room resembled a typical apartment in Republic City.

Her musings were interrupted when a particular dress caught her eye. “Wait!” she called out. Bolin, in the midst of his frenzied showcasing, paused mid-motion, a dress half-draped over his arm. “Can I… can I see that one?” Asami asked, pointing. The demon’s face lit up with a delighted grin as he eagerly handed her a striking red gown. Asami’s fingers brushed over the fabric, feeling its luxurious quality.

As Asami held the dress up, the rich, red fabric cascaded down, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer with a deep, fiery glow. The gown was beautifully crafted, with intricate patterns of darker red embroidery swirling over the bodice and sleeves, giving the impression of delicate flames licking the fabric. The neckline was elegantly cut, dipping in a soft V that promised to flatter yet remain regal.

The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, layers of fine, gossamer-like material that whispered promises of grace with every movement. As she ran her fingers over the fabric, she could feel the quality, the weight of it indicating nothing but the finest craftsmanship. It was a dress made for a queen—bold, beautiful, and commanding attention. Asami couldn’t help but be drawn to it, the color and style speaking to a part of her that wanted to embrace this new, powerful chapter of her life.

“This one. I want this one for my wedding dress,” Asami told Bolin resolutely, her voice carrying a certainty that surprised even her.

Bolin’s face split into a wide grin, his earlier frenzy transforming into enthusiastic nodding. “Right away!” he chirped before darting off to call a few more demons to assist. Moments later, several female-looking demons entered the room, their hands deftly and gently helping Asami into the red gown.

As the dress settled around her, fitting her as if it were made for her, Asami gazed at her reflection in a large, ornate mirror. The intricate embroidery of the gown accentuated her figure, the red fabric making her skin glow warmly. The female demons worked on her hair, weaving it into an elegant yet simple updo, adorned with small, delicate jewels that sparkled in the dim light.

Her thoughts raced as they applied light, enhancing makeup to her face. I can’t believe I’m getting married at nineteen. And to the Demon Lord, nonetheless! It was surreal, a whirlwind of events leading to this moment where she was being adorned for a wedding far beyond her wildest imagination.

The female demons stepped back, allowing her to take in the full effect. Asami turned towards the mirror, her breath catching at the sight. The transformation was complete. The red gown draped her form magnificently, accentuating her stature with an air of regal dignity. The fabric shimmered with every movement, casting a warm, fiery glow around her.

Her makeup was striking yet tastefully done, highlighting her natural beauty with a boldness befitting a queen. Dark, smoky shadows made her eyes appear more commanding, while a touch of rouge brought a healthy, vibrant color to her cheeks. Her lips were painted a deep, rich shade, complementing the gown and adding to the overall majesty of her appearance.

The jewels in her hair caught the light, sparkling like stars against the dark updo, their subtle glint a testament to her new status. Asami gazed at her reflection, seeing not just a young woman but a queen, powerful and radiant. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. “It’s really happening,” she whispered to her reflection, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within her. She stood taller, her posture shifting to one of confidence and grace.

Bolin, now standing at the door, watched with pride. “You look stunning, my Lady. The Lord will be most pleased. And most importantly, you will knock her off her feet!” His words, meant as comfort, only served to heighten the surreal nature of it all.

With a final nod to the demons who had assisted her, Asami turned, her gown flowing behind her, ready to step into her new life as the Demon Queen and embrace her destiny beside the Demon Lord.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

In her long life, this was the first time Korra had felt nervous. She paced back and forth in her room, waiting for Mako to bring her suit, the navy-colored one she had reserved for this very day.

After a few more minutes, Korra’s patience finally waned. “What’s taking you so long?” she snapped. She heard a sudden crash inside her closet, and a few seconds later, Mako emerged, tumbling to the floor with her navy blue suit triumphantly held in the air.

“I’m so sorry, my Lord!” he exclaimed, quickly standing and brushing off the dirt. “It’s just… I think you buried this six feet underground,” he added sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

All of Korra’s irritation dissipated in an instant as she remembered that, yes, she had indeed buried the suit, convinced she’d never wed. “You’re right, Mako. I apologize,” she said, taking the suit from him. She begrudgingly stepped into the dress pants and then slipped on the button-up white shirt, tucking it into her pants before zipping it up. Korra rolled her shoulders, testing the fit. It was tight. She usually disliked wearing restrictive clothing, preferring her old coat and baggy pants. But she recognized that special occasions called for special attire. And besides, she thought, Asami and she would look good together, all dressed up.

Shrugging on the suit jacket, the Demon Lord turned to the mirror and whistled appreciatively at her reflection. She flexed her arms and struck a few poses, admiring the way the fabric hugged her muscles. “I clean up nicely, don’t you think?” she asked Mako, throwing a confident smirk over her shoulder.

The demon raised one of his eyebrows, which were as sharp as shark fins. “My Lord, if you keep doing that, then your suit is going to burst. And then you’d ruin your chance to look good for your future Queen.”

Korra chuckled, straightening up and ceasing her flexing. She adjusted her collar with a quick tug and smoothed down the lapels of her jacket. “Oh, you’re right,” she agreed. With a snap of her fingers, she used a little bit of heat to iron out the creases in her suit. Satisfied with the result, she gave herself one last approving nod in the mirror. “Let’s go. We don’t want to keep Asami waiting.”

—

Korra stood at the altar, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Her hands felt unusually clammy as she tried to steady her breathing. She didn’t have to wait long, however. A demon herald announced Asami Sato’s arrival, and the grand doors to the venue creaked open.

The breath was knocked right out of Korra when she saw her bride. Asami was the epitome of royalty, the red gown perfectly accentuating her figure, makeup enhancing her natural beauty, her raven black hair elegantly styled, and her sharp, piercing eyes commanding attention. She was everything — and more — that Korra had ever longed for in a Demon Queen. For a moment, Korra was utterly stunned, lost in admiration and desire.

Once Asami reached her side, Korra found her voice again, though it was huskier than usual. “Beautiful. You’re more beautiful than ever,” she managed.

Noticing Asami blush and bite her lower lip, Korra felt a wave of affection. “Thanks. You look dashing, too,” Asami replied, her voice a mix of bashfulness and strength.

Korra offered her arm, which Asami took gracefully, and together they faced the ancient altar. It was an imposing structure of dark stone, adorned with carvings of past ceremonies and demon lore, untouched and solemn, waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity.

Bolin stepped forward, his demeanor noticeably shifted from his usual lighthearted banter to a more solemn gravitas. Clearing his throat, he began to preside over the wedding, his voice resonating against the ancient walls of the Underworld. This ritual, steeped in tradition and history, had not been performed in countless years.

As Bolin recited the ceremonial words, Korra found herself stealing glances at Asami. She marveled at how the candlelight flickered against Asami’s skin, casting a warm glow that highlighted her ethereal beauty. Korra’s heart raced, a mix of nervous excitement and awe at the thought of uniting with Asami in such an ancient and sacred ceremony.

Bolin’s words, though reverent, carried a hint of his characteristic humor, lightening the atmosphere just enough to ease some of Korra’s tension. She listened as he spoke of the bonds of eternity, of two souls intertwining across realms, and of the strength found in unity.

Finally, the moment arrived for the unique culmination of the ceremony. Instead of the traditional human words, “You may now kiss the bride,” Bolin announced with a slightly theatrical flair, “You may now drink each other’s blood.” The statement, so stark yet so fitting for the occasion, caused a brief smile to flash across Korra’s lips.

Korra watched as Asami, with a mixture of trepidation and determination, prepared for this final act. So, without further ado, she turned to face her bride, sharpened her nails, and made a small cut across her palm, presenting it to her Demon Queen.

Asami visibly gulped but still pushed through. The moment Asami’s lips touched her palm, drinking her blood, Korra felt a jolt of electricity struck her core. She breathed in deeply, relishing the feeling the human elicited in her as she drank. It was sensual and overwhelmingly intimate. Korra felt their connection deepen, a binding of their souls in this ancient and sacred act. She could sense Asami’s initial hesitation melting away, replaced by an equal intensity.

The Demon Lord smiled a pleased smile when she saw Asami’s face flush an even deeper red. She was slightly panting, her lips a darker shade than before, now stained with droplets of blood. Korra couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and desire as she observed Asami’s flustered state. The usually composed aspiring engineer was now slightly disheveled, her breathing quick and shallow, eyes wide with a mix of shock and fascination. The flush of her cheeks and the faint tremble of her lips were telltale signs of the effect their ritual had on her. Despite the blood, or perhaps because of it, there was an undeniable allure to Asami’s vulnerability and strength in that moment. Korra’s heart swelled with an affectionate warmth as she prepared to reciprocate the intimate act, ready to deepen their bond even further.

“My turn, My Lady,” Korra whispered, her voice a husky murmur laden with desire.

Asami offered her palm, slightly trembling as she mimicked Korra’s earlier action and made a delicate cut with a small knife. The blood welled up, a stark contrast against her lighter skin. Korra took Asami’s hand, her gaze locked with Asami’s, a silent communication of trust and longing passing between them.

Korra brought the palm to her lips, her breath warm against Asami’s skin. She tasted the blood, a singular, potent connection to Asami that sent a thrill through her. It was an intimate communion, the sharing of their essence. The sensation was overwhelming, filling Korra with a warmth that radiated from her core, a sense of completeness she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

As she savored the taste, licking and sucking as if it was the tastiest treat the Demon Lord had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Korra closed her eyes, allowing herself to be fully immersed in the moment, in the profound connection they were forging. The world around them faded, leaving only the sensation of Asami’s skin against her lips, the sweet, metallic taste of her blood, and the sound of their synchronized heartbeats.

When Korra finally released Asami’s hand, she opened her eyes to witness Asami’s overwhelming response. The new Demon Queen’s eyes were rolled back slightly, her mouth agape in a silent cry of intense climax. It was as if the intimate act, the sharing of her essence with the Demon Lord, had sent her to the heights of ecstasy. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, and a fine sheen of perspiration made her skin glisten in the dim light. The deep connection, the direct communion of their beings, had elicited a response that was both visceral and profound.

Korra, holding Asami’s gaze as she came back to the present, felt a surge of possessive pride and tenderness. They were united now, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the physical realm. The ceremony had not only joined them in matrimony but had also awakened a raw, primal understanding of each other’s deepest selves.

Asami seemed to be lost for words. Korra couldn’t blame her. She had just experienced something beyond her scope of understanding. From what she gathered, Asami was the logical type of person, someone who solved things methodologically and scientifically, not by faith or superstition.

Deciding to end her wife’s bewilderment, the Demon Lord answered, “That, my dear, is called Soulsynthesis. It’s the blending of essences, a sacred union of souls that transcends mere physical or emotional bonds. It’s unique to beings like us, a deep and powerful connection that now binds you and me together for eternity.”

“Oh.”

Korra chuckled, pulling her wife close. She leaned down and whispered low in her ear, “If you still want to kiss, we can.”

Asami looked up at her, licking her lips free of blood. “I-I’d like that.”

Korra’s heart thrummed with a blend of anticipation and tenderness as she gently tilted Asami’s chin upward, closing the distance between them. The moment their lips met, a soft, electric charge seemed to pass through them, a tangible current of the connection they had just forged.

The kiss was slow and exploratory at first, a delicate dance of newfound intimacy. Asami’s lips were soft yet insistent, responding with a passion that ignited a fire within Korra. The Demon Lord deepened the kiss, her hands cradling Asami’s face, savoring the warmth, the taste, the very essence of the woman she had vowed to spend eternity with.

Korra felt every barrier, every last vestige of restraint, melted away as they continued to kiss. It wasn’t just a physical union but an emotional and spiritual melding. The room, the guests, the whole world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of them locked in a moment of perfect unity.

As they finally parted, breathless and flushed, Korra gazed into Asami’s eyes, seeing the reflection of her own profound emotions mirrored back at her. There was awe, desire, and a fierce joy that seemed to say without words that this was only the beginning of their journey together.

Korra brushed a loose strand of hair from Asami’s face, a small, affectionate gesture laden with meaning. “I never knew,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “how much I needed this... needed you.”

Asami’s smile, shy yet radiant, was all the answer Korra needed. They stood together at the altar, the Demon Lord and her Queen, bound by love, magic, and a promise of endless tomorrows.

“What now?” Asami asked.

Korra looked at her, grinning like a devil, “Now…we have sex.”

***

To say that Asami Sato was nervous was an understatement. She was currently waiting for her wife (oh, my god, her wife!) to finish whatever merriment was happening outside.

After the ceremony, Korra wanted Asami all to herself, but Mako intervened, insisting they partake in some celebration. He explained that it was important for the new Queen to socialize with the guests so they could get to know her.

So, they did.

They mingled with the crowd, and Asami found herself swept into a whirlwind of introductions and congratulations. The demons, varying in shapes and sizes, approached her with a mix of curiosity and reverence. Some bowed deeply, others offered tokens or words of wisdom. Asami, still reeling from the day's events, tried to keep her composure, nodding and smiling, absorbing the strange yet fascinating aspects of demon culture. The way they celebrated was wildly different, yet somehow familiar, with music that vibrated through her very soul and dances that told stories of ancient times. She watched as Korra interacted with her subjects, a natural leader, her presence commanding yet warm. Asami’s heart swelled with pride and a touch of awe at the community she was now a part of, the powerful and enigmatic world that was slowly opening up to her.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally caught Korra’s attention and excused herself early to rest. Her wife responded with that wickedly lopsided smile, kissed her, and whispered suggestively, “Sure. You’re going to need the energy.”

So here she was, waiting and pacing in the room, her mind replaying those tantalizing words. Yes, she was now the Demon Queen, and Korra was right. She could feel a surge of power running through her veins, but that didn’t mean she felt confident in bed. Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking back to the ceremony. How pleasure surged through her as she drank Korra’s blood, and then how she climaxed just from that intimate exchange when Korra drank hers in return…

She was jolted from her musings as the door creaked open, and Korra entered, her smile wide and inviting. However, it vanished when she saw Asami's expression. “What’s wrong?” Korra asked, her voice laced with concern.

Asami felt her nervousness melt slightly under her wife’s attentive gaze. Choosing honesty, she admitted, “I’m nervous.” At her words, Korra’s face softened, her steps closing the distance between them. Asami couldn’t help but find that gentle look cute on the formidable Demon Lord.

Korra’s large, strong hands found Asami’s waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry,” she reassured, her breath whispering into Asami’s ear and sending a shiver down her spine.

As Korra trailed kisses up her neck and jaw until they reached her lips. Asami’s heart raced. The soft press of lips ignited her skin, and when Korra’s tongue sought entry, Asami’s core was struck with a surge of desire. She granted access willingly, and their kiss deepened, tongues entwining in a fervent dance.

Korra’s hand traced the curve of Asami’s back, pausing at the zipper of her dress. “May I?” she asked, her voice a soft murmur. Asami, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, bit her lip to silence a whimper and nodded. “Yes,” she gasped.

Korra then slowly unzipped the dress, her touch sending waves of heat down Asami’s spine, igniting her every nerve. A soft moan escaped as Korra’s deliberate pace tortured her with anticipation. “Korra…” she breathed out as the zipper reached its end.

With a fluid motion, Asami shrugged off her dress, letting it fall gracefully to the floor, leaving her in just her underwear. She turned to face Korra, her vulnerability laid bare.

“Asami,” Korra exhaled, her eyes devouring the sight before her. “You’re so beautiful.” She stepped closer, her hands once again finding Asami’s waist, and pulled her into a passionate kiss that spoke of deep longing and admiration. The connection between them was electric, every touch and glance intensifying the bond they had forged.

Then Korra growled, pushing Asami toward the bed as the Demon Queen frantically tore at her Lord’s shirt. Surely, Korra was feeling hot in all those layers! They continued to kiss as Asami, one by one, discarded Korra’s clothing around the room until they were both naked. It was surreal — she couldn’t believe she had married and was now about to have sex with someone she had just met that day. But as the Demon Queen, she would claim what she desired, and that was Korra.

Asami didn’t know what she was expecting, but it surprised her a little bit that Korra had an anatomy of a normal human woman. Korra must’ve seen the look on her face because she heard a light chuckle above her.

“Disappointed?”

The Demon Queen blushed, snapping her green eyes up to blue ones. “N-no! I just…was expecting something…different,” she winced, thinking Korra would be offended. But she was wrong. Her wife just smirked—a dangerous smirk.

“I can definitely be different. If you want, I can conjure up a man’s co*ck if that’s what you prefer,” Korra offered casually.

Asami’s throat went dry at the suggestion. It took all her effort to voice one more question. “Y-you can?”

“Yeah,” Korra murmured, inching closer until her lips were against Asami’s ear. “Just tell me, and your wish is my command.”

—

“Oh, my... How did your tongue get all the way insi-aahh, ooohhh!!! f*ck! Korra!!” Asami screamed as her back arched off the bed.

Korra had spent a considerable amount of time ravishing her body, getting her so worked up that she felt herself dripping by the time Korra finally reached her folds. Asami’s hands instinctively found their way into the Demon Lord’s hair, gripping it tightly as waves of pleasure washed over her. She hadn’t expected to climax so soon, but her hips jerked uncontrollably the moment Korra’s tongue slid inside her. She had anticipated the sensation. But what she did not expect was for it to go all the way deep inside her, brushing against her cervix as it thrust in and out. Now she was yelling Korra’s name, writhing on the bed under the onslaught of intense pleasure.

“Oh, my god. sh*t!” she exhaled loudly, her back finally collapsing back on the bed.

“God? That’s not my name.” Korra crawled back up her body, hovering above her with a chuckle. As Asami opened her eyes to scold the Demon Lord, she found herself mesmerized by the shifting colors in Korra’s eyes. Instead of the usual bright blue, they were now swirling with an ethereal green. She cupped Korra’s face, pulling her closer to inspect those captivating eyes, feeling herself drawn deeper into their depth. “Beautiful,” she whispered in awe.

“Thank you,” Korra whispered in return. “That’s what happens when we have sex. When you come, I get pleasure, too, and you can see the effect in my eyes.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Asami could say. Then, gathering her thoughts, she added, “I have so many questions,” still staring into her wife’s eyes.

“What is it? You can ask me anything.”

Asami bit her lip before beginning. “If you can conjure up a co*ck, can you… Can you get me pregnant? How do you reproduce?”

The Demon Lord laughed, settling beside her. She placed her hands behind her head, stretching languidly on the bed. Asami turned to face Korra, hesitating before placing her hand on her body. Deciding for her, Korra took Asami’s hand and placed it on her muscular stomach. “Unfortunately, no.” Asami was surprised that she felt disappointed with the truth, but then again, she was just nineteen, and she had so much more to do before she could think of having a child of her own. But then Korra had a glint in her eyes, her grin devilish. “Not yet, at least.”

Asami’s breath hitched at the thought of birthing a demon child. However, before she could think on it more, she was pulled out of her musings when Korra continued, “And lastly, producing a child of our own blood is different. I’ll explain it to you when the time comes.”

“Hmm,” the Demon Queen replied, absentmindedly stroking the tight skin under her hands as she processed the information Korra had given her. As she lay there, her head resting near Korra’s chest, Asami listened to the steady rhythm of her wife’s heartbeat. But it was different, not the usual “lub dub” of a human heart but a unique “lub dub dub.” She wondered if her own heartbeat now sounded like that, too.

The Demon Lord suddenly chuckled, a sound rich with amusem*nt. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“What is it?” Asami replied, her curiosity piqued.

Korra gave her that dark, predatory grin that sent shivers down Asami's spine. “What do you want, my dear? A co*ck? Or a puss*?”

Asami’s breath hitched at the blunt question. What did she want? In a moment of bold resolve, spurred by the empowering realization that she was now Korra’s wife, she abruptly rose from her position and straddled Korra’s hips, making the Demon Lord’s eyes widen with surprise and desire. Slamming her hands down on Korra’s chest, she leaned in close and whispered huskily, “Then I want to ride your co*ck tonight.”

The Demon Lord’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with dark promise. Almost instantly, Asami felt the warmth of something solid nudging against her slick folds. “Oh,” she gasped, the sensation drawing a moan from her lips. “Yes, that’s it. Make it big.” She lifted herself slightly, gripping the now fully formed erection in her hands, stroking it slowly. It pulsed with heat under her touch. Positioning it at her entrance, she sank down slowly, her inner walls fluttering in eager anticipation. Her hips began to move instinctively, rolling and grinding in a rhythm born of deep-seated desire. She felt Korra’s co*ck twitch and throb within her, filling her completely. “You feel so good, dear. You fill me so well,” she moaned out, the pleasure overtaking her.

“Yes, my Queen. My co*ck is all for you,” Korra growled, her voice a low rumble of satisfaction as Asami took her in entirely.

The Demon Queen’s body was ablaze, every nerve ending alight with fiery need. Looking down at Korra, she saw her own arousal reflected in the swirling green of her eyes. It only served to fan the flames of her desire. “Now… make me come with your co*ck,” she commanded, her voice steady and commanding.

Korra’s smirk turned into a grin of sheer carnal intent. “With pleasure, my Queen.”

***

“Ah, ah. Yes! Yes! Harder! f*ck, Korra!!”

“Asami!!”

Outside the newlyweds’ room, two demons were mischievously eavesdropping. “Do you think Korra would have our heads if she knew we’re listening in on them having sex?” Bolin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What kind of question is that? Of course, she would!” Mako whisper-yelled back, throwing his hands up in a mix of alarm and amusem*nt at his brother’s cheeky question. Yet, he couldn’t suppress the smirk playing at his lips, a playful glint lighting up his amber eyes. “If she knew…”

Bolin’s green eyes sparkled with mirth, and he pressed his pointed ear closer to the door, a conspiratorial smile spreading across his face. He snickered, “‘If’ is good. ‘If’ is very, very good.”

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

The day after their wedding night, Asami found herself walking hand in hand with Korra through what was ostensibly Korra’s ‘castle’ in the Underworld. However, calling it a castle seemed like an overstatement. It was more like an uptown Republic City apartment in its layout and simplicity, with the personal touch and coziness of a lived-in home. The penthouse, where they resided, was a marvel of luxurious yet tasteful design that reflected Korra’s personality.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to my generals,” Korra said, holding out a hand for Asami to take.

As they descended to the floor below, Korra’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, a silent gesture of support and partnership. “This is where my generals stay,” Korra explained with a casual wave of her other hand.

The first person they encountered was Kuvira, introduced by Korra as Demon General #1. Asami immediately noticed the air of authority that Kuvira carried, her posture rigid and her eyes sharp. She was dressed in what Asami assumed was a military uniform for demons, her appearance both commanding and meticulously put together.

“Kuvira, this is my wife, Asami,” Korra said, a clear note of pride resonating in her voice. “Figured you’d want to know your Demon Queen since you weren’t at the wedding.”

As Asami extended her hand, she sensed a flicker of something unspoken in Kuvira’s eyes – a brief, almost imperceptible hardening of her gaze before it was masked by a professional facade. “Pleasure to meet you,” Asami said, her voice warm but cautious.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Kuvira responded with a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her handshake was firm, a subtle challenge more than a greeting.

They were about to walk away when the Demon General stopped them. “My Lord,” she started, her fist placed over her heart in a respectful gesture as she bowed to Korra.

Korra turned, her expression tinged with impatience, which Asami didn’t fail to notice. “Yes?” the Demon Lord asked.

“Our scouts reported a small activity of some rebel demons in the southernmost part of the realm. We need you to take a look at it, my Lord.”

Korra’s tongue clicked in irritation, her annoyance now fully apparent, making Kuvira visibly flinch. “Isn’t this why you are here, General? To handle these small matters?”

Kuvira immediately dropped to her knees. “Yes, my Lord. My apologies for my oversight!”

As Korra turned back around and took Asami’s hand, Asami caught a fleeting look in Kuvira’s eyes. It was a flash of frustration, perhaps even anger, tightly controlled and quickly masked. There was a tension in her jaw, a slight clench of her fists before she composed herself. It seemed as though Kuvira was internally seething, her gaze flickering towards Asami with an unreadable emotion.

As they walked away, Asami leaned in closer to Korra. “She seems... intense,” she whispered, trying to put her finger on the undercurrent she’d felt.

Korra chuckled softly, the tension in her body dissipated. “Kuvira takes her role very seriously. She’s been with me for a long time, and she’s one of the best strategists I have.”

“Strategist? What for?” Asami asked curiously.

They walked for a bit before Korra answered her. “There was chaos here when I first came here. The first Demon Lord was… let’s say he was what you humans typically picture when thinking about the leader of the Underworld. He was imposing, ruthless, and reveled in fear and darkness. His reign was marked by turmoil and strife. The realm was divided, factions constantly at war, with no regard for order or progress.”

‘Came here?’ So Korra’s not from here? Asami thought about asking the Demon Lord but decided to wait.

Korra’s voice held a tinge of sadness, reflecting on a time of unrest. “He was formidable - towering, with piercing red eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire and horns that arched back like sinister crowns. He wielded power with a heavy hand, inspiring terror more than loyalty.”

Asami listened intently, her imagination painting the image of a being far removed from Korra’s more balanced leadership. “So, how did you change things?”

With a slight shrug, Korra's demeanor lightened. “It wasn’t easy. I had to challenge the old ways and advocate for unity and structure. I believed in a realm where fear wasn’t the driving force. It took time—centuries, and not without resistance, but eventually, we got to where we are today.”

Asami squeezed Korra’s hand, understanding the weight of her wife’s achievements. “And Kuvira’s strategies were part of that change?”

Korra chuckled, shaking her head. “No. She’s my battle strategist. The current system here was my idea.”

“Wow…”

As they continued their walk, Asami felt a newfound respect for the world Korra had shaped - a far cry from the chaos that once reigned under the first Demon Lord.

The tour continued, and Asami met more of Korra’s generals, each with a unique role. They soon approached Amon, Demon General #2, who contrasted sharply with Kuvira. While Kuvira was a strategist, Amon was the master of intelligence and espionage, overseeing the information network of the Underworld.

“Amon ensures we’re always informed of everything happening within and beyond our borders,” Korra explained with a note of respect.

Next, Asami met Zaheer, Demon General #3, whose calm yet commanding presence was dedicated to instilling discipline among the Underworld’s souls — human or not. Zaheer, along with his subordinates Ghazan, P’Li, and Ming Hua, formed a team that managed the realm’s internal order.

Ghazan handled enforcement, P’Li oversaw tactical operations, and Ming Hua specialized in agility training. Together, they ensured harmony within the Underworld, a crucial aspect of Korra’s governance.

Korra, introducing them with evident pride, explained, “Their work is vital for the balance and structure we maintain here.”

Asami, impressed by their efficiency and respect, gained a deeper understanding of the diverse strengths sustaining the realm’s stability.

Korra also formally introduced Mako and Bolin to Asami. They were brothers and essentially served as Korra’s bodyguards, even though she didn’t really need one. Her wife explained that the brothers had insisted on providing protection, in case any of the previous Demon Lord’s loyal supporters decided to make a comeback.

As they descended further into the apartment, Asami met the lower-level generals. These were the ones responsible for distributing tasks to human souls and lesser demons. Asami found herself fascinated by the organization and efficiency of it all. She couldn’t help but wonder if, in time, she could assist Korra in running the Underworld. “Maybe my engineering skills can be of use here,” she mused silently.

Meanwhile, Mako and Bolin were whispering among themselves. Every so often, Asami caught them in a hushed conversation, only for them to abruptly stop and whistle innocently whenever she glanced their way. Korra seemed oblivious to their antics, but Asami couldn’t help but find their behavior amusing. Eventually, she decided to ignore their comical conspiring.

Finally, they arrived outside, where Korra’s face lit up with excitement. “I have one last introduction to make,” she said. Before Asami could respond, she was pulled close against Korra’s solid form. A rush of wind enveloped them, and when Asami opened her eyes again, they were in a completely different place.

“Asami, meet my loyal companion, Naga,” Korra introduced with enthusiasm.

Asami turned to where Korra was pointing and gasped. Naga was an imposing creature, a massive underworld hound with smoldering eyes and a coat that seemed to shimmer with shades of dark and light.

The Demon Queen instinctively took a step back, her heart racing at the sight of the formidable creature. However, her fear was short-lived. To her surprise, Naga suddenly bounded forward with an energy that reminded Asami of a playful puppy. The hound nuzzled against her gently, her tail wagging in a friendly manner.

Her initial fear melted away into laughter as she tentatively patted Naga’s head. She looked up to see Korra smiling fondly at the scene. “See? No need to be afraid. Naga likes you!” Korra said, her voice filled with warmth.

Relief and joy washed over Asami. She didn’t know why she needed Naga’s approval, but she felt that she would get closer to Korra if her dog liked her, too.

The tour continued, this time with Asami riding Naga behind Korra, her arms wrapped tightly around her wife. She was finally able to see the Underworld in its entirety. Fields of green stretched out before them, which contrasted starkly with the more daunting ambiance around them. The Underworld held a certain dark allure, marked by deep reds and shadowy landscapes that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sky, a perpetual twilight, cast a crimson hue over everything, giving the fields of green a surreal, almost otherworldly appearance.

Asami’s turned her gaze back to the fields, where human souls worked diligently. There were farms and various production facilities, each designed to meet the specific needs of the demons and the other souls inhabiting the realm.

Eventually, Korra led Asami to a more secluded area. “This is the torture chamber,” Korra explained with a somber tone. “This is where the most atrocious, heinous humans are kept - people like serial killers, dictators who committed genocide, individuals guilty of unspeakable crimes against humanity. Fire Lord Ozai is in there right now. They are the ones who do the hardest work in the Underworld.” Asami could hear the moans and cries of thousands of souls. Surprisingly, she found herself detached, feeling little sympathy for their plight.

“What do they do in there?” Asami asked, her curiosity piqued despite the grim setting.

Korra gestured towards the vast, dark expanse. “They’re tasked with breaking down the hardest rocks to extract rare minerals, working in extreme conditions. It’s a relentless, punishing task, fitting for the gravity of their misdeeds in the living world.”

Asami nodded, absorbing this stark aspect of the Underworld. It was a grim reminder of the balance between punishment and atonement in this realm, a balance that Korra, as the Demon Lord, maintained.

For the next few days, Korra took Asami to various areas of the Underworld, introducing her to human souls and demons as their new queen. Each of them bowed in reverence, and while Asami initially blushed at the attention, she found herself increasingly enjoying—even relishing—the feeling of respect and admiration.

During the day, Asami dedicated time to studying the structure of the Underworld, preparing herself for her eventual rule. And every night, they would conclude their day by making love, further deepening their bond and connection.

Alas, Asami’s time in the Underworld couldn’t last forever. After five eventful days, the moment came for her to return to the living world. Korra escorted her back, and Asami couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness at their parting. Despite this, Korra’s promise to visit her in the Upper Realm brought a measure of comfort.

With a final, heartfelt embrace, Korra prepared to transport Asami back. Then, with a rush of wind and a swirl of underworld energy, Asami found herself back in the Upper Realm, the living world.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

“I’ll see you soon, my Queen,” Korra said with a kiss on Asami’s cheek.

The Demon Queen smiled sweetly. She leaned up to her tiptoes and cupped her wife’s jaw, kissing her full on the lips. “See you soon, my Lord.”

With a puff of smoke, Korra disappeared into the Underworld. Her lopsided smirk was the last thing Asami saw before she vanished.

Asami breathed in deeply. The world was the same as it was five days ago—except that she could now see the world in more vivid colors. Her hearing was sharper, her sense of smell stronger, and her senses overall were more acute, making her feel more alive and connected to everything around her. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the hidden intricacies and energies of life. She felt empowered, aware, and more confident in her stride toward her dorm room as she began to navigate this familiar yet new reality.

Taking the key from her bag — which Korra and she had recovered from the cultists —, Asami opened the door to the dorm room she shared with Opal. The moment she stepped inside, her best friend was on her.

“Asami! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Opal screamed in worry.

Even though she knew Opal was pacing back and forth in panic, thanks to her heightened senses, Asami still wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of questions her best friend had thrown at her. The Demon Queen covered her ears as Opal continued her barrage. They weren’t used to hearing more clearly yet.

“Don’t you know that Papa Sato had the police in a frenzy!? He hounded them until Aunt Lin dispatched her entire police force looking for you! Well, that’s an exaggeration, but still… Asami, answer me!” Opal was panting by the time she finished.

The new Demon Queen sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Opal blinked at her, likely still waiting for any further explanation, so when Asami didn’t provide one, her best friend started blowing up again. To say Asami was amused was an understatement.

“‘I’m sorry’?! That’s all you have to say? You are unbelievable sometimes, you know that, Asami?” Opal exclaimed, clearly exasperated from her lack of answers.

But what could she say? I got kidnapped by cultists who were trying to summon the Demon herself, but she turned out to be something else, proceeded to threaten said cultists, proposed to me, I accepted and then we got married in the Underworld. Are you happy, Opal?

“Yes.”

Asami jumped at the voice in her head. It was Korra. How the…? But then again, they were connected body and soul, so she shouldn’t be surprised. Her lord chuckled, a sound that Asami liked more and more in the past five days that they had been together. “Are you sure you want to reveal yourself to Opal?” she asked in her head. “And how did you do this?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. It’s not like she would believe you. And it’s called ‘mindlink’,” Korra said, then belted out a boisterous laugh.

Asami raised a manicured brow at her wife’s antics before shaking her head and letting out an amused chuckle herself. Opal noticed her and raised her own eyebrow in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” her best friend asked, unamused.

“Oh, nothing,” Asami replied nonchalantly. Then she sighed. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but…” She began to explain what had transpired five days ago—omitting, of course, the last five nights spent in intimate activities with Korra.

At first, Opal was speechless, staring at her as if she had grown another head. But then, her best friend suddenly rushed toward her, grabbed her head, and began inspecting it, shaking it from side to side.

“Opal! What are you doing?” Asami protested, trying to stop the aspiring historian from shaking her head too vigorously.

“I’m just checking if you hit your head! You’re talking nonsense, Asami!”

Understandable reaction, Asami thought. “I did not hit my head, Opal.”

But her best friend wasn’t convinced. Opal began checking Asami for any signs of scrapes and bruises all over her body. The Demon Queen knew she wouldn’t find any; Korra had healed everything—except for the single scar on her right palm. “It will never heal,” she remembered Korra saying to her.

Opal squinted her eyes, scrutinizing Asami from head to toe. “Wait a minute,” her best friend exclaimed, suddenly changing the subject to Asami’s luck. “Last I saw you, you had bags under your eyes, your hair didn’t have the same shine as when we first started uni, and you were paler than usual. But now you look fresh, like... now you’re glowing. Did you get laid? OMG! Asami!! Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Korra snickered in Asami’s head.

Asami wanted to smack the back of her wife’s head, but instead, she chose to play along with her best friend with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turned back to Opal, a sly smirk forming on her lips. “You could say that…” she teased, her eyes dancing with a hint of mischief and a knowing sparkle.

“Aaah!! You sly vixen! Why didn’t you say so? And why keep it a secret and make up a ridiculous story to cover it up?! And for five days! So, who is it? Are they hot? Guy or girl?” Opal barraged her with questions, her excitement palpable.

“I already told you. It’s Korra,” Asami reiterated.

Opal rolled her eyes, her disbelief clear. “Come on, Asami. Really? Introduce me then. I want proof! If Korra’s as amazing as you claim, I need to meet this person!”

Asami sighed inwardly. “Not just yet,” she said, both to placate Opal and to communicate privately with Korra. “Because I want you all to myself, just for a little while longer,” she added mentally, her thoughts meant only for Korra’s ears.

The low, possessive growl she heard in her mind response sent a thrill through her, confirming that Korra had heard and appreciated her sentiment.

Before Opal could continue her inquisition, the door to their room burst open, and Hiroshi Sato stepped in, his face etched with worry and relief. “Opal, do you have any news where Asa...mi...Asami?” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as they landed on his daughter.

“Hey, Dad. Sorry for making you worry,” Asami said, quickly getting up to greet him, her tone light but apologetic.

Hiroshi rushed over to her, engulfing her in a tight embrace, his concern palpable. Asami returned the hug, her heart swelling with love and a bit of guilt for the worry she had caused.

“Oh, my god, Asami! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick! When Opal called to say you didn’t show up at the party when you promised you would, I thought I had lost you. You never break your promises, after all,” Hiroshi said.

“I’m truly sorry, Dad. I was on my way to the party, but some cultists kidnapped me…” Asami began her tale once again, this time omitting the part where Korra showed up and her experience in the Underworld altogether.

“Those bastards! I will do everything in my power to destroy that cult! I’ll call Chief Beifong and ask her to hunt them down!” Her father clenched his fists, his veins almost popping out of his forehead, so Asami took his clenched fist and patted it to calm him down.

“Dad, it’s okay. They’re never going to hurt anyone again,” she reassured him gently. “Because my wife took care of them,” she added silently in her mind.

Asami couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine as the memory of that night came unbidden. Korra’s imposing strength and power...it made her want her wife all over again. She was snapped out of her reverie when her father spoke again.

“Why? What happened to them?” Hiroshi asked, his voice laden with concern and a hint of anger.

Asami’s brain jolted, trying to come up with a story, anything to cover up the truth, while still convincing her father. She looked him in the eyes. “Well, I took care of them. You did enroll me in self-defense classes when I was this high,” she explained, gesturing with her hand just above her waist.

Hiroshi’s eyes widened, but then they relaxed to an almost glazed state. Thankfully, her father believed her. “That’s my girl!” he exclaimed, his laughter booming. “Okay. I’ll leave you to rest. I’ll handle Chief Beifong. Call me if you need anything, okay? I love you so much, sweetie,” Hiroshi said, hugging Asami tightly.

“I will, Dad. Take care, too.”

When Hiroshi left, Opal glanced at her watch and sighed. “I have a History class in fifteen minutes, so I have to go, too. But we’re not done talking yet, missy,” she warned with a stern tone. Then her expression shifted to a sly smirk. “You have to tell me all about your five-day sexcapade, okay! Don’t leave out any deets!!” she called out as she exited the door.

“That was interesting,” Korra’s voice echoed in Asami’s head.

Asami sighed, walking toward her bed and slumping down on it. “Interesting indeed.”

—

After a much-needed nap, Asami woke up with renewed vigor. She returned to her thesis, working on it with a much clearer head. Before she knew it, she was done, and it wasn’t even seven in the evening. Now, the Demon Queen didn’t know what to do.

I wonder if Korra’s available… to talk! Only to talk, she chastised herself. Korra? No answer. Maybe she’s busy governing the Underworld. Then she looked outside and saw the moon. It wasn’t as full as when she walked outside five days ago, but it still pulled at her, entrancing her to go outside. So she thought, why not?

Asami grabbed her jacket and slipped into some skinny jeans before going out for a walk. Might as well use her heightened senses to enjoy the night walk.

The night air was cool, but Asami still found herself sweating a little bit, so she shrugged off her jacket, letting the cool air touch her skin. She suspected it might have something to do with the slight changes in her anatomy, her body temperature now running a bit higher than a normal human’s.

Asami continued her walk, her heightened senses picking up the night’s symphony in vivid detail. The rustling of leaves whispered secrets to the wind, and distant chatter from late-night wanderers became clear, distinct conversations. Even the subtle fragrance of night-blooming flowers seemed more potent, wrapping around her like a familiar shawl. The city lights twinkled brighter to her eyes, each hue more pronounced, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced in the night.

She noticed the minute textures of the world around her: the roughness of tree bark under her fingertips, the softness of dewy grass beneath her boots, and the gentle caress of the cool breeze against her skin. The world felt alive, pulsating with energy that she could almost see and touch. Asami marveled at the beauty of it all, feeling a deep connection to the earth and its rhythms.

With each step, she moved with more confidence and grace, her body attuned to the night’s cadence. Asami realized that her new abilities didn’t just change her; they enhanced her appreciation for the world around her, offering a perspective that was both exhilarating and humbling.

She had a new-found appreciation of the world around her.

—

The downside to heightened hearing was that Asami could now hear the whispers of her classmates behind her back more clearly. Asami still didn’t engage…unless they provoked her, which they were now doing.

Out of all the groups of students that bullied her, it was Ginger’s — who was the most popular student in the whole Republic City University — group that was the loudest and most blatant in soiling her reputation. Now, they were even more aggressive.

“So, the Princess of Republic City finally graced us with her presence,” Ginger sneered. Her lackeys laughed wickedly at her quip. “Disappeared for days, and not a word to anyone. What’s the matter? Too good for us now?” Ginger continued, her voice dripping with mock concern and evident disdain. “Or perhaps the rumors are true – you’ve found some rich old man that you ran off with?”

The taunts grew louder, each word sharp and intended to wound. Asami felt the ire rise within her, her newfound strength simmering beneath the surface. Yet, she remained composed, her eyes cool and collected, waiting for the right moment to respond.

And the moment came when her ex-boyfriend butted into the scene. “Well, well, well,” Tahno, a tall, skinny guy, drawled in his annoying voice. “Look at you. A secret whor*. Now I know why you wouldn’t have sex with me. You liked an old, shriveled-up dick.” His own group of lackeys, his girlfriend, as well as Ginger’s, laughed cruelly.

That was the last straw. Before, Asami would take all their insults quietly. She would do breathing exercises to remain calm and not show how their words affected her, how they hurt her. But now… now something in her had ignited, a smoldering fire ready to be unleashed. She stood up, turning around to face her bullies. There must have been something in her face because the two groups’ sneering stopped, replaced by shock.

Asami’s gaze pierced through the crowd, settling first on Tahno. “Oh, Tahno,” she began, her voice dripping with venomous disdain. “The only thing shriveled here is you and your small dick. And I thank whatever is looking out for me every day that I didn’t have to deal with that.”

The crowd hushed, taken aback by the biting sharpness in her tone. She then turned her attention to Ginger, her smile cold and calculating. “And Ginger, darling,” she continued, her words slow and deliberate, “I find it amusing that you accuse me of sleeping with the dean when you were the one caught bent over, spreading her legs for one of our esteemed professors.”

Asami smirked, relishing the way Ginger’s face contorted into pure horror at the same time as the students around them gasped.

“What—how did… How dare you!” the redhead sputtered out. Then Ginger surged forward, motioning to slap her, but Asami caught her wrist and pulled her toward herself.

“If you think for one moment that you can still torment me, you’re wrong. In fact, I’ll take over this school from you, and you’ll find yourself dethroned in no time,” Asami threatened, hissing venom inches from the redhead’s face.

Ginger yanked her hand away, looking scared and threatened yet trying to mask it. “This isn’t over, bitch!” she screamed as her friends dragged her away from Asami. “You’ll never get away with this!”

Once the redhead and her friends were gone, Asami turned to Tahno and his friends, who stood there with their mouths agape. Tahno, on the other hand, looked red in the face with anger, likely because his girlfriend had left him. “You’re going to regret this, Sato. I’ll make you and your old boyfriend’s lives a living hell,” he threatened.

Before Asami could retort, another voice answered for her. “Whose lives?” Korra suddenly asked menacingly from behind her. The Demon Queen couldn’t help but smirk at her wife’s timely entrance.

“Who the hell are you?!” Tahno asked, gritting his teeth.

Korra stepped forward, towering over Tahno, who let out the tiniest squeak that only the demons could perceive. “Your worst nightmare,” Korra declared, growling as she slid her arm over Asami’s shoulder. “So if I were you, I’d take your filthy human lackeys and go before I decimate all of you.”

Tahno gasped slightly but then composed himself, smirking. “Let’s go, guys. These dykes hadn’t tasted a real dick. They aren’t worth it.” Then they left the couple alone.

Asami turned to her wife and gave her a searing kiss. “Hey, you,” she greeted, pulling away and looking over Korra. She noticed something different.

Korra looked...human.

Her skin was a normal tan without the red hue, and her eyes were a normal blue instead of the otherworldly bright blue she normally had. However, some things remained the same. Her hair was still cropped short, and her muscles were still on display beneath a simple, snug-fitting shirt that accentuated her ripped body. Completing her ensemble were baggy pants and casual boots. Most importantly, she still had that same crooked grin that made Asami’s heart skip a beat.

“Hello, my Queen,” Korra greeted in return, pulling her suddenly close by the waist. “Sorry to interrupt. Watching you take those people down with only just your words turned me on so much, I had to intervene so I could get you alone,” her wife explained, whispering against her ear.

“Mmm,” Asami moaned, enticed by what Korra suggested. She yearned for Korra to take her right there and then in the middle of campus grounds. Her desires battled with her senses, and her senses won. “I’d like that, too. But I have classes. How about later? After class, we can get coffee, go on a date,” she suggested, biting her lip seductively even though her words were innocent.

That elicited an award-winning smile from her lord. “Hmm, a date it is then. I’ll see you later,” Korra said, leaning down to kiss her passionately—with tongue. Then she whispered, “Also, just say the word, and I’ll curse that Tahno guy for you.”

Asami grinned wickedly. “I’ll think about it. See you later.”

With that, her wife leaned down and kissed her one more time before turning and leaving her alone in the midst of students watching with wide eyes. Asami found herself not caring about their stares anymore. Standing up straight, head held high, the Demon Queen strutted toward her classroom, daring anyone to say a word. When silence followed her, Asami felt powerful—truly powerful—for the first time in her life. She was embracing her inner villainess; this was her time.

That’s right. Watch me.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

The five days she’d spent with Asami made the Demon Lord feel more alive than the thousands of years she had lived.

True, she felt alive when she had fought in countless battles throughout time, but none of them made her feel like this—made her feel like she was living for something, someone and not just trudging through the passing of time. How could one human make her heart thrum more than the war drums of the past?

The Demon Lord never cared for humans, but every moment spent with Asami was a revelation, an unraveling of emotions Korra never knew lingered in the depths of her being. She had always thought herself beyond the trivialities of mortal emotions, yet here she was, bewitched by a mortal woman’s smile, her laughter, her fierce intellect, and her kind heart. Asami ignited a fire in her that no battle, victory, or conquest had ever come close to. It was as if she had been walking through a world of shadows, and Asami was the first true light she’d seen — warm, inviting, and intoxicating.

Korra pondered the change Asami had wrought in her. Was this what humans called love? A force so potent it could alter the very fabric of one’s being, make them aspire to be better, do more? If so, she welcomed it, for Asami made her want to embrace a future she had never imagined before — a future not of solitude and rule but of companionship and shared strength.

As she continued her walk, Korra’s thoughts lingered on Asami, on the sound of her voice, the touch of her skin, the promise of their shared tomorrows. She realized that Asami didn’t just occupy her thoughts; she had become an essential part of her existence.

Korra smiled to herself as she tapped into Asami’s mind once more. She could hear her thinking about math and whatever was being taught in her class. She would never get a human’s way of thinking every thing in numbers, but with her wife, it was endearing.

A kid screaming and running across her pulled her out of her thoughts. Humans, she thought in irritation. She was reminded once more of why she despised them: loud and obnoxious. However, her instincts kicked in, and in the blink of an eye, they were across the street, the sound of a horn blaring distant behind them.

“Oh, my baby!” A woman came rushing toward them, worry evident on her face. It was the kid’s mother. “Thank you for saving my daughter!” she cried, kneeling on the floor while hugging the child.

Korra was about to assure the woman when someone shouted behind her. “Hey!! Why did you just run out into the road like that? You could have caused an accident!” The driver of the car that had nearly hit the child was now standing by his vehicle, his face red with anger and adrenaline. He stormed up to them, waving his arms in frustration.

“You people need to watch where your brats are going!” he continued, his voice harsh and accusing. “I’ve got places to be, and now my whole day is thrown off because of this!”

Korra’s eyes narrowed as she stood protectively in front of the mother and child. Her patience with human recklessness was thin, but she knew she needed to handle this without escalating the situation further. She stepped forward, her presence commanding and authoritative.

“I suggest you watch your tone and be thankful that the only thing thrown off today was your schedule, not a child’s life,” Korra said, her voice low and menacing. “Drive more carefully from now on.”

The driver’s anger didn’t subside immediately; he opened his mouth to retort, but his words faltered when Korra stepped forward, locking eyes with him. There was a moment of intense silence as Korra held his gaze, which soon glazed over as if he was hypnotized. Quietly, with an authority that resonated on a supernatural level, Korra whispered a command that only he could hear. After a brief pause, he turned around mechanically, climbed into his car like a zombie, and drove away without another word.

The woman, still holding her daughter, looked at Korra with a mixture of confusion and awe. “What did you do?” she asked.

Korra simply smiled, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Just had a little talk with him about being careful on the road,” she replied nonchalantly.

The woman thanked Korra profusely, relief flooding her features. She then turned to her daughter. “Honey, say thank you to the nice lady who saved you.”

The little girl, looking up at Korra with wide, innocent eyes, murmured a shy “Thank you.”

Korra nodded in acknowledgment, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at having averted the danger and influenced the driver’s behavior. Humanity might not be doomed, after all.

Now, she had four hours to kill ‘til she saw Asami again, might as well get her a post-wedding gift.

—

“I’m in the back, corner booth,” Asami informed Korra through their mind link.

Korra scanned the restaurant and indeed found her wife exactly where she said she’d be. As she approached, she noticed the low hum of a news broadcast playing from a mounted television in the corner. Smiling, the Demon Lord strode toward Asami. “Hey, my Queen,” she greeted, kissing Asami full on the lips before sitting down beside her. As they settled in, the faint but distinct voice of a news reporter mentioned a local story about a reckless driver who had recently turned himself in, and subsequent police investigation revealed he was driving under the influence. Good.

“This restaurant is fancy. Good thing I changed into more appropriate attire,” she chuckled. Then she surveyed herself. Korra was now wearing a simple white button-up shirt tucked into dark blue slacks and brown leather boots. Again, humans and their restrictive clothing, she mused. But for the sake of looking good for her wife, Korra would endure.

“Hey, my Lord. You look nice,” Asami said, her smile sweet.

“You, too.” Korra’s gaze traveled from Asami’s head down to her toes. She couldn’t get over how beautiful her Queen was. It never failed to stir something inside her…especially between her legs. Asami was wearing a simple black dress that complemented her impeccable makeup, highlighting her striking eyes. Oh, those eyes… Korra could get lost in them for eternity, and she wouldn’t want to find her way back.

Asami smiled at her slyly. “Thank you.”

They made small talk while waiting for the food they had ordered, chatting about Asami’s day and how most of the students were suddenly wary of her. Korra swelled with pride for her wife, proud of Asami for finding the strength she had always possessed.

Korra looked for an opportunity to give Asami the gift she’d bought earlier while discussing how she had helped a mother and daughter earlier that day. Deeming it the perfect moment, Korra transitioned the conversation.

“Yeah, and then after that, I strolled through town, and then I saw this…” Korra pulled a velvet box from her pants pocket, presenting it to Asami. She saw the surprise register in her wife’s eyes.

“Korra…” Asami began, but then she smirked. “What a human thing to do, my Lord.”

Korra’s cheeks warmed. “I… Yeah, I just wanted to give you something, you know…and we had a wedding in the Underworld, and I didn’t ask you what you wanted, and oh, shoot! I bought another thing and didn’t ask if you like this kind of stuff, and—”

Asami’s searing kiss cut off Korra’s ramblings. It took the Demon Lord a moment to catch up with what had happened, and by the time she did, her wife was already leaning back, smiling amusedly at her.

“Well, I think deep down, you already knew what I want,” Asami simply said, snatching the small velvet box from her relaxed hand. She gasped the moment she opened it. “Korra, this is beautiful.”

Korra’s smile broadened. She had done well. She had done right by her Queen.

“But how did you get this?” Asami asked, admiring the white and gold wedding band before slipping it onto her ring finger. Her wife’s eyes sparkled with amazement and then filled with adoration when she glanced at Korra.

“Oh, I can be very persuasive,” Korra replied slyly, inching closer to Asami.

“Hmm,” the Demon Queen hummed approvingly. “I know what you mean,” she said, then reached for Korra’s left hand to slide the matching ring onto her ring finger.

Their intimate moment, however, was interrupted when the waiter cleared his throat. “Pardon the intrusion, ladies, but here are your orders.”

Both of them thanked the waiter, but they were no longer hungry for food. They did, however, feel a different kind of hunger. So, they asked if they could get their food to-go. Korra noticed the waiter’s irritation but appreciated the nod of agreement. Once he was gone, Korra was taken aback when Asami suddenly grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the restroom.

Once inside, Asami pushed her against the door and locked it.

“Asami?”

“Korra, I’ve been craving you since you showed up earlier,” Asami declared, then captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. The Demon Queen pressed close, her body flush against Korra’s as their lips moved together in an urgent, heated rhythm. Korra’s back hit the door once more with a soft thud, the sound drowned out by their mingled breaths. Asami’s hands roamed over Korra’s body, tracing the muscles beneath her shirt with a fervent curiosity that sent shivers down the Demon Lord’s spine.

Korra responded with equal fervor, her hands tangling in Asami’s hair, pulling her even closer, deepening their kiss. The world outside the restroom door ceased to exist as they lost themselves in each other. Every touch ignited a fire that seemed to consume them, every twist and turn of their entwined bodies a testament to the deep longing they’d both felt.

Asami’s lips traveled from Korra’s mouth down her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made Korra gasp and tilt her head back in surrender. The intensity between them was palpable, an electric current that buzzed through the air. They moved together, a dance of desire that was as old as time yet felt brand new in its intensity.

Then Asami gripped the collar of Korra’s shirt, pulling them backward until she was the one pressed against the wall without breaking their kiss. When the need for air arose, Asami commanded, “I want you to take out your co*ck and f*ck me against this wall.”

Growling, Korra gripped the back of her wife’s thighs and lifted her up. “Your wish is my command.”

Everything happened all at once. Korra hiked Asami’s dress up as she formed her co*ck, sliding it from her wife’s cl*t down to her entrance. “You’re already wet, my Queen,” she panted against her wife’s throat.

“I’ve been wet all day, my Lord.”

“Then, let’s get started.” With that, Korra pushed in. She was greeted by the sound of Asami’s moans in her ears and the feel of her wife’s tight, wet tunnel enveloping her co*ck. Korra could feel Asami’s walls fluttering, trying to adjust to her size. “You’re so tight, feel so good.”

“Yes!” Asami moaned. “Korra, move, please.”

How could Korra deny her wife anything, especially when she begged for her co*ck like that? So, the Demon Lord moved, starting with an already brutal pace, knowing Asami loved to be pounded fiercely. Korra pumped her hips fast, setting a punishing rhythm as Asami wrapped her arms around her clothed back, raking her nails down as her screams of joy echoed off the walls.

“Oh, f*ck, I love your big co*ck...” moaned the Demon Queen. Korra let out a huffed laugh and pushed hard with her hips, making Asami scream as the Demon Lord’s co*ck head knocked against the entrance to her womb.

It was music to Korra’s ears, especially the next words that came from her wife.

“Oh, Korra, I’m coming!” Asami screamed, trembling as her back arching off the wall.

Korra could feel the vice-like grip of her wife’s walls on her co*ck. She kissed Asami then, swallowing her screams as she felt herself throb once before spilling all she had inside Asami.

A few more pumps and their shared org*sm began to fade. As they caught their breaths, Asami asked with a chuckle, “I think the whole restaurant heard us.”

Korra smirked a glint of mischief in her eyes. “With how loud you were? Definitely,” she teased, her voice husky from exertion. She gently slipped out of Asami, knowing her wife relished the sensation rather than just snapping it out of existence. Asami hissed at the action, a shiver running down her spine as Korra carefully placed her back on the floor.

“But don’t worry,” Korra continued, her voice laced with confidence. “I can erase their memory of us.” Her words were a casual promise, spoken as someone who wielded such power effortlessly.

Asami reached up, pulling Korra down for a chaste kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered, gratitude glowing in her eyes.

Korra helped Asami adjust her dress back into place, her fingers lingering on the fabric, tracing the contours of her wife’s body with a tenderness that contrasted with their earlier fervor. She observed Asami, her heart swelling with a mix of pride, lust, and an inexplicably deep love that seemed to grow each time they were together. As she straightened up, her gaze swept across the room, preparing to cast the spell that would remove any memory of their indiscretion from the minds of the unsuspecting patrons outside.

“Let’s go and get our food, wife,” Korra said, offering her hand. “We need the energy because our night is far from over.”

***

Asami was deliciously sore all over.

They had definitely overdone it last night. It was also a good thing she didn’t have any classes that day. After their intense public (kinda) bathroom sex, Asami and Korra had decided to book a hotel room to continue their activities in private. It was wild. Asami knew she was flexible, but not that flexible. It was also the first time she had tasted Korra’s puss*. It had the same taste and smell as her co*ck, and the Demon Queen found it arousing, clenching her own puss* around nothing.

And now, here they were, lying sticky and naked on the bed. She had the perfect excuse to bask in the presence of her wife behind her, whose arms were loosely wrapped around her stomach. Asami took Korra’s hand and intertwined their fingers, admiring the contrast in their skin tones.

Then she noticed their wedding rings.

Asami couldn’t help but admire them again. They were beautiful. The Demon Queen still didn’t know how Korra acquired them — if she had even bought them at all — but found herself not caring in the least. The Asami before she married Korra might have cared, but now… she didn’t. All that mattered was her wife giving her something human-like — it made her feel grounded, still human. The Demon Queen smiled at the sweet gesture.

She was falling more and more for the Demon Lord.

They had done more than just have sex during the five nights she had been in the Underworld. Since Korra knew all about her with just one touch, Asami asked Korra all about her life. “That’s only fair,” she had insisted. Initially, she thought Korra might be reticent, but she was pleasantly surprised when the Demon Lord shared her story openly and willingly.

Asami wanted Korra to pass the knowledge the same way her wife received it, but Korra refused. She said that even though Asami had a big brain, all of Korra’s millennia of experience would fry it out. So, Korra just narrated her story in between sex breaks.

Korra explained that ever since humanity had existed, so had she and all her other counterparts. They believed that humans had manifested them, wanting something to believe in—some form of higher beings looking down on them or, conversely, higher beings that punished them for their misdeeds during their mortal lives.

Thus, the Demon Lord had been alive as long as humanity itself.

Korra had also fought in countless battles, from other demons vying to take over her throne to intervening in human wars. And that was where she had acquired the thousands of scars that adorned her body.

Then, her wife recounted the numerous cults that used virgin women as sacrifices to summon her. Asami saw the hurt and anger in Korra’s blue eyes. It pained her, too, to see her new wife affected like this.

Despite her formidable appearance and status, Asami learned that Korra had a good heart. She was someone who believed in justice. If someone was proven innocent, then she would move heaven and earth to correct any wrongs against them.

Conversely, if someone was guilty or had committed heinous acts, Korra’s sense of justice was unwavering—borderlining revenge. She would ensure they faced the consequences of their actions, often employing her vast powers to enact retribution or ensure they could no longer harm others. Asami was both awed and slightly fearful of the extent of Korra’s commitment to maintaining balance, but she also felt a deep sense of respect for her.

With a content sigh, Asami tightened Korra’s arms around her, turned around, and snuggled more into Korra’s body before falling back to sleep.

Asami was woken up again, but this time to the sound of someone knocking on the hotel room door. She got up groggily, her body heavy with reluctance to leave Korra’s warmth, but the insistent knocking left her no choice but to get up and answer it. She wore a fluffy robe and walked toward the door, peering through the peephole.

It was Opal.

“Opal, hey!” Asami greeted with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How did you find out where I am?”

Opal raised an irritated brow. “Really? You didn’t think I’d find you after you checked into a Beifong Hotel?” her best friend admonished, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, you’re right,” was all Asami could muster. Damn it! How could I forget?

Her best friend didn’t wait for an invitation and waltzed into the room. “Damn straight, I am! Asami, you’ve been going MIA on me lately. And you smell of sex!” Opal scrunched up her nose. “Is your girlfriend here with you?”

Asami sighed. There was no hiding anything from Opal. “Yes. She’s still sleeping.” Then she heard rustling behind her. Speaking of…

“Babe?” Korra greeted sleepily…and naked! Before the Demon Queen could react, Opal beat her to it.

“Aahh!” Opal screamed and turned around. But then she abruptly stopped, turning back to face the couple. “Wait, why am I screaming?” she seemed to mutter to herself. “Asami, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Asami blushed beet red, looking over at her wife. Korra, aren’t you going to get dressed?

Korra rubbed her eyes. Why? Your friend doesn’t seem bothered. Her wife smirked at her.

That f*cker... Korraavaatu Azarion Zephyristal Ralvallod Mazzath Jarromiun Gargramon Tonothoris Ra’s Al Ghul! Please just get dressed, Asami pleaded internally, rubbing her forehead.

The Demon Lord sighed in defeat and retreated back to the room. Asami turned to face Opal once more, who was looking at her confused. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? You just looked at each other, and then she went back. What’s up with that?”

“We just really connect like that, Opal,” Asami lied.

From the look on her best friend’s face, Opal didn’t believe her one bit. “Whatever you say, ‘Sams. But my God! If I were in your shoes, I’d keep her to myself, too!” the aspiring historian giggled. “I think I’ll forgive you for ditching me again because gurl!”

That was when Asami remembered that she and Opal had something planned. “I’m sorry. I just...forgot,” she apologized, blushing.

Opal waved her hand, completely dismissing the issue. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just happy for you. So, you two already eloped?” she said, pointing to Asami’s left hand.

“Oh, this?” Asami glanced at her ring. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Her best friend walked toward her and smiled warmly. “I trust your judgment, Asami. I know you never make a decision without thinking about it a thousand times. If she makes you happy, then I support your decision,” Opal said, her voice sincere.

“Thank you, Op. That means a lot to me.”

“Does Papa Sato know about this?”

With that question, Asami winced. She hadn’t told her father yet, unsure how to approach the subject. Shaking her head, the Demon Queen explained, “Not yet. I’m still gathering the courage to do so.”

Opal nodded and then jerked her head towards the now-clothed figure standing behind Asami. “So, are you ready to tell me the truth about your wife?”

“Opal, I already told you,” Asami sighed, feeling a bit exhausted to re-tell the story. Hopefully, Opal would believe her this time around. “I met Korra when the cultists kidnapped me. She helped me escape...”

As Asami recounted the story, she watched Opal’s expressions change from curiosity to outright disbelief. When she finished, Opal just stared at her, her green eyes wide and flickering between Asami and Korra. It was like she was trying to piece together a puzzle, to discern if what she had just heard could possibly be true. But then, to Asami’s surprise, Opal burst out laughing. “Oh, my god. Asami! You’re still sticking with that story?!” Opal gasped between fits of laughter.

Asami exchanged a look with Korra, a silent communication passing between them. They both shrugged at Opal’s reaction. Neither of them had anticipated this kind of response. Deciding it was time for undeniable proof, Korra transformed back into her demon form right in front of Opal’s eyes.

Opal’s laughter ceased abruptly, her face a mask of shock and confusion. “Wh-what the hell? What are you…” But before she could finish her sentence, she fainted, collapsing into a heap on the floor.

Again, the couple just exchanged looks, a hint of amusem*nt and resignation in their eyes. Without a word, Korra gently picked up the unconscious Opal and carried her to the couch.

After a few minutes, her best friend awoke with a start. “What happened?” Opal asked, her voice laced with confusion. Then her gaze fell on Korra, who was still in her true demon form. “Aah!! Wake up, wake up, Opal!” she exclaimed, shutting her eyes and slapping her own cheeks in disbelief.

Amused by her friend’s reaction, Asami quickly intervened to prevent Opal from hurting herself. She gently but firmly gripped the aspiring historian’s wrists, reassuring her, “Hey, Op. You’re already awake. This is all real.”

Asami continued to reassure Opal, but her friend just shook her head, clearly overwhelmed. “I-I don’t know,” Opal stammered.

“I understand. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably have the same reaction, but it’s true,” Asami said, her voice gentle yet firm.

Opal looked back and forth between Korra and Asami, her expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “Okay, let’s say I believe you,” Opal finally said, “Asami, you just married a demon! And not just any demon, but the demon of all demons! How are you okay with this?”

Asami chuckled, a twinkle of amusem*nt in her eyes. “Well, Korra is very persuasive,” she said jokingly, recalling Korra’s words at the restaurant. “But seriously, Op, Korra is…more of a human than the others here on Earth. I trust her.”

Opal opened her mouth, perhaps to argue, but Asami cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say, but trust me on this, okay? As you’ve said, I make the best decisions there is.”

Opal remained skeptical but nodded. “Okay, if you say so.” She then stood up and walked over to Korra, standing on her tiptoes. In her most menacing voice, she said, “If you hurt even one hair on my best friend, I’ll end you!” She pointed a finger at Korra’s face, her eyes fierce.

Korra smirked, unfazed. “I will never hurt my Queen. You have my word.”

“Good,” Opal said, turning around. Her demeanor suddenly shifted to one of sly curiosity. “Now,” she said, her eyes gleaming, “tell me all the juicy details!”

Asami rolled her eyes playfully, preparing herself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her best friend. Opal better be prepared, Asami heard Korra snicker in her head. Oh, she better because this was going to be a wild ride.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

A month had passed quickly since marrying Korra, and Asami’s life had never been better.

Sometime during the month, Asami had told Hiroshi about Korra. His reaction was similar to Opal’s, though without the curiosity about the “juicy” details, as her best friend had put it. Initially, her father was quite upset, but surprisingly, over time, he began to accept Korra.

School days were also better. Her thesis was almost complete, her grades had improved due to the extra participation points during recitation, and her classmates were friendlier—except, of course, for Tahno and Ginger. They seemed intent on ruining Asami’s life. Little did they know, she already had a plan in place.

They started with light jabs here and there, which Asami deflected with her own sharp quips. Unsatisfied, the pair of bullies escalated their tactics.

One day, they cornered Asami and pushed her against a wall. The Demon Queen hit her head hard and bled. Tahno, Ginger, and their friends all laughed maniacally as they left her lying on the floor. “You deserve that, bitch!” Ginger spat as they walked away.

When they were gone, Asami stood up as if nothing had happened and continued her day. As soon as she got home, Korra was onto her. “Why did you stop me from razing them to the ground?! I could have obliterated them!” her wife screamed in anger.

Asami smirked, pulling Korra to her. “Because I have a plan, and you’re going to help me with it,” she whispered slyly into the Demon Lord’s ear. The Demon Queen then detailed her sinister plans to Korra while her wife healed the wound on her head. The more she spoke, the darker Korra’s eyes turned — not with anger, but with lust. As soon as Asami finished her tale, Korra took her right there and then.

The next day, Asami returned to school as if nothing had happened. She noticed the shock on Tahno and Ginger’s faces when they saw the Demon Queen completely unscathed. Frustrated by her resilience, they upped their ante. This time, Ginger cornered Asami in the bathroom, her nails digging into Asami’s face as she scratched and clawed.

“Now you’re ugly!” Ginger cackled maniacally.

But once again, Asami did nothing in retaliation. Once again, she walked into school the next day without a mark on her, her skin flawless as if Ginger’s nails had never touched her.

This cycle repeated, each attempt to harm Asami failing miserably. Over time, Asami began to sense the shift in the air—the stench of fear emanating from her bullies as their confidence waned and desperation set in. That’s when the Demon Queen decided it was time to strike. With her plan fully formed and her tormentors right where she wanted them, she prepared to unleash her retribution. The fear they exuded was almost palpable, a sweet scent to Asami, who wore a smirk of dark satisfaction. Today, they would learn the true meaning of fear.

The next day, Asami sat regally at the top of the auditorium bleachers, her gaze leisurely sweeping over the students engrossed in the film playing on the big screen. She could hear their laughter, hoots, gasps, and mocking jeers directed at the “main characters.” With her heightened senses, she felt a distinct shift in the atmosphere as Tahno and Ginger strutted inside. Tahno haughtily asked a student from the back row what was happening, but the student paled, his hand trembling as he pointed toward the screen. Asami’s smirk widened at Tahno’s reaction, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Earlier that day, she had discreetly placed an announcement on the University board, inviting students and faculty to a special screening in the auditorium. It was a vague yet enticing ad, promising an unforgettable show that no one would want to miss. And indeed, the auditorium was packed.

As Tahno and Ginger navigated through the crowd, their confident demeanors began to falter. They sensed something was amiss — the air was charged, the students’ attention too fixated. Asami reveled in their discomfort, her plan unfolding beautifully before her eyes. She was not just a bystander today; she was the orchestrator of their downfall, a fact they were about to fully realize.

The “movie” playing was a video of Tahno performing a blowj*b on one of the professors. All the students could hear the bully begging for better grades amidst his act. Then, the next scene played out. Tahno was bent over the table while the professor was behind him, both moaning and clearly engaged in the act. It came as a surprise to all of the students.

And Asami heard them all.

What? Tahno’s a hom*ophobe, right?

Such a hypocrite!

He even bullied Jun into transferring schools.

Naturally, Tahno screamed, “STOP THAT! THAT IS NOT TRUE! I AM NOT THAT PERSON! I WOULDN’T BE CAUGHT DEAD WITH A MAN! IT’S CLEARLY A DEEP FAKE! I’ll sue whoever did this!!” He declared, frantic to escape the auditorium filled with mocking eyes. But as he rushed towards the exit, the doors suddenly slammed shut with an ominous thud, trapping him inside. His face turned beet red with humiliation and panic.

He tugged desperately at the doors, but they wouldn’t budge, as if sealed by some unseen force. Around him, the laughter and jeers grew louder, his protests drowned out by the crowd’s scorn. Even Ginger, who was usually his staunch ally, could only stare at him in disgust and disbelief.

Little did the redhead know, her downfall was imminent.

As the current video stopped, the next one began. This time, it was Ginger caught in the act of sneaking into another professor’s office, unlocking the drawer, and swapping her test papers. The video unambiguously captured her switching the marked papers with those she had brought in her purse.

Asami, perched atop the bleachers, could hear the whispers of the students growing louder and more accusatory.

Ginger’s a cheater!

No wonder she got good grades!

And she had the audacity to accuse Sato?

Ginger gasped in shock, clearly not prepared for her own deceit to be laid bare before the entire school. “N-no! That’s also a deep fake!” she stammered in denial. However, the crowd of students and professors wasn’t buying it. They booed and jeered, hurling insults as Ginger’s tears ran down her face.

From her high vantage point, Asami watched with cold satisfaction. She was the orchestrator of this justice, her vengeance served cold and public. The fear and respect that would follow her now were exactly what she aimed for. The only thing that would make this perfect was to have Korra on center stage, too. Unfortunately, her wife had to remain in the shadows.

But what exactly was Korra’s role in all of this?

The Demon Lord had been the mastermind behind setting up the hidden cameras in those professors’ offices. At that very moment, she was whispering in the Director of the University’s ear, expertly persuading him not to give Tahno and Ginger, as well as the professors who enabled this kind of system, another chance – to essentially dismantle their futures before they could even begin. This part of their plan was Korra’s suggestion when Asami told her that they would likely take bribes, as she deemed it only fair retribution for all the lives they had tarnished, even before crossing paths with Asami.

With a satisfied smirk, the Demon Queen materialized on the auditorium stage with the help of her wife, commanding the attention of everyone present. The chaotic chatter ceased instantly, all eyes drawn to her commanding presence. As she surveyed the crowd, her gaze fell upon Tahno and Ginger, their faces twisted in shock and fear.

Tahno’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “You!!” he seethed, pointing an accusatory finger at Asami. “This is all your doing! I just knew it!”

Asami’s smile turned devilish, her eyes gleaming with malevolence. “What if I am? It’s the truth. And now the whole school knows what you’re hiding behind closed doors,” she said, her voice dripping with malice, echoing throughout the auditorium.

Tahno spluttered incoherently, his anger boiling over. In a desperate attempt to regain control, he turned his rage towards the Director of the University, who had been observing the scene quietly. “You! You have to punish her! She’s behind all this!” Tahno screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at Asami.

The Director, however, remained calm and composed. It was evident only to Asami that he was under Korra’s subtle influence. He stood up, his expression unyielding as he addressed the crowd.

“Mr. Tahno, Ms. Ginger,” the Director began, his voice resolute. “After reviewing the evidence… it is proven that the video is legitimate. And considering your actions, it is clear that you both, as well as the professors, have violated the University’s code of conduct in the most egregious ways. As such, effective immediately, you all are expelled from this institution.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the auditorium as the Director continued. “Furthermore, due to the severity of your actions, I have taken the liberty of contacting other universities and colleges globally. You will find that you are now blacklisted from pursuing further education at any of these institutions.”

“No!! You can’t do this to us! We gave you our money!!” Tahno’s face drained of color, and Ginger’s sobs grew louder. Their futures, which they had so callously gambled with, had crumbled before their eyes.

Asami stepped closer to the edge of the stage, her presence dominating the room. “You see, Tahno, Ginger, actions have consequences,” she said, her voice cold and clear. “You chose to make my life a living hell. Now, it’s your turn to feel the heat.”

She then turned to address the crowd, her voice resonating with power. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. I am not someone you can mess with. I am not your victim or your plaything. I am Asami Sato, and I stand here today, stronger and more powerful than ever. If you stand with me, you will find an ally. But if you stand against me, I will be your enemy. And I will not stop until I see your lives burn.”

Her words hung in the air, a stark warning, a declaration of her newfound strength and resolve. The crowd was silent, a mix of awe and fear evident in their faces. Asami’s message was clear: she was a force to be reckoned with, and she would no longer tolerate being underestimated or mistreated.

With a final, contemptuous glance at Tahno and Ginger, Asami stepped off the stage, her head held high. Her laughter echoed in the halls, a haunting reminder of the demon queen they had unwittingly provoked.

And it was only the beginning.

Asami breezed through her final year and graduated at the top of her class. No one questioned her success; everyone knew that the Demon Queen had rightfully earned her achievements.

Hiroshi was immensely proud of her and wanted Asami to take the position of COO immediately, to manage Future Industries alongside him. However, Asami expressed her desire to start from the bottom. She wanted to understand the ins and outs of the company thoroughly and make her way to the top on her own merits.

And the Demon Queen did just that. Asami began in the production line alongside the ordinary workers and steadily climbed the corporate ladder. She progressed from in-line engineer to supervisor, then to division head, and eventually became the COO. Five years later, she reached the very top, assuming the role of CEO of Future Industries after Hiroshi’s retirement.

Almost every employee of the company celebrated her promotion, congratulating her on the remarkable job she had done in boosting the company’s sales to unprecedented heights. Almost everyone.

There was one who dared to question her legitimacy: Mr. Tanaka, the head of the Marketing Division of Future Industries.

The whole board, including Hiroshi, was celebrating Asami’s first day as CEO. They were laughing and reminiscing about little Asami and how she had grown up to be an extraordinary woman. But Mr. Tanaka? He was sulking in his seat at the end of the table, his disapproval barely concealed.

Suddenly, with a burst of anger, he slammed his hands on the conference table and stood up, yelling, “Is she really qualified? She’s still basically just a child! Just because she started in line doesn’t mean she’s ready to lead us all! She’s a fluke!” His face was red, and he was panting by the time he finished. The room fell silent, everyone gasping in shock at his outburst.

Immediately, the board members came to Asami’s defense.

“Mr. Tanaka! What is the meaning of this outburst?” Mrs. Lee, the middle-aged new head of the Engineering Division, asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

Mr. Seung, the Head of Finance, added, “Yeah! This is a time to celebrate!”

“And what are we celebrating, exactly?” Mr. Tanaka retorted, his voice now eerily calm. “She basically inherited her position and nothing else!”

Hiroshi’s face turned a shade of red, mirroring his anger. “Why you…” he started, but Asami calmly raised her hand, signaling him to stop. Hiroshi’s anger subsided under her composed gesture.

“I can understand where you’re coming from, Mr. Tanaka, and I appreciate you voicing your concerns,” Asami began, her voice even and controlled. Then, her eyes narrowed, and her posture straightened as she shifted into a more authoritative stance. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to fire you. I just received word about how you have been laundering company money into your own pockets.” On cue, her new secretary stepped forward, handing Mr. Tanaka a folder – incontrovertible evidence of his crimes. Asami leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. What do you prefer, Mr. Tanaka?”

Mr. Tanaka’s reaction was immediate – his jaw dropped, his face paled, and he stammered in disbelief. “This… I didn’t..” he struggled to find words.

In a sudden outburst of rage, Mr. Tanaka burst out of his seat and lunged at Asami. The board members gasped, but Asami reacted with swift precision. She caught his wrist in mid-air, her grip iron-tight. With a fluid motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him down onto the table. Mr. Tanaka tried to struggle, his face contorted in pain and anger, but it was to no avail. Asami’s strength was overwhelming, almost otherworldly, keeping him securely pinned down.

The room was silent, everyone watching in stunned disbelief at the display of Asami’s unexpected physical prowess. Her eyes were calm and cold, a stark contrast to Mr. Tanaka’s frantic attempts to free himself.

Security quickly arrived at the scene, alerted by the commotion. Asami released her hold, stepping back gracefully as the security personnel took over, pulling Mr. Tanaka up from the table and escorting him out of the room. His protests and threats were muffled as he was led away, his career and reputation in ruins.

Asami straightened her suit jacket, her composure unshaken by the altercation. She turned to face the rest of the board, her expression firm and commanding. “As your new CEO, I encourage you, from time to time and always in a respectful manner, to question my logic. If you’re unconvinced about a particular plan of action I’ve decided is the wisest, please tell me so. But also allow me the opportunity to convince you. And I promise you, right here and now, no subject will ever be taboo— except, of course, the subject that was just under discussion.

“The price you pay for negatively questioning how I made my way here is severe – you’ll find yourself out on the streets, just like Mr. Tanaka,” Asami declared. Her voice rose in volume and intensity as she continued, “Now, if any of you sons of bitches have anything else to say, now is the f*cking time!” She scanned the room, her gaze challenging. When met with silence, her expression softened into a sweet smile. “I didn’t think so. Gentlemen, ladies, this meeting is adjourned.”

The board members, and even Hiroshi, exchanged glances, a new level of respect and perhaps a hint of fear in their eyes. They nodded, returning to their seats, ready to follow the lead of their new, formidable CEO.

Asami went home that day to her apartment, where her wife was waiting. They were going to celebrate their victory thoroughly.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

8 Years Later

The television screen flickered with the grim face of a news reporter, her tone somber as she relayed the latest incident to grip Republic City. “Another explosion has rocked the rural outskirts of Republic City, marking this as the fifth such event this year alone,” she reported. “Similar mysterious explosions have been occurring globally for the past eight years, leaving authorities baffled. Police are still clueless about the cause of these devastating incidents, which have led to significant property damage and a rising sense of unease among citizens.”

The camera panned over the aftermath of the explosion, showing charred remains and emergency responders combing through debris.

In the comfortable ambiance of her living room, Asami Sato watched the news with a glass of wine in hand, her expression thoughtful. The room was filled with the warm glow of evening light, contrasting sharply with the chaos unfolding on the TV screen.

Suddenly, a gust of wind signaled a familiar presence. Asami turned, her lips curving into a smile as Korra, the Demon Lord, materialized behind her. Standing, she placed her wine glass on the coffee table and greeted her wife with a passionate kiss.

As Korra sought to deepen the kiss, Asami teasingly pulled back, a playful smirk on her lips. Korra’s pout was almost instantaneous. “What gives?” she asked, her tone a blend of mock annoyance and affection.

Hands on her hips, Asami looked up at her wife, her voice stern yet tinged with affection. “Korraavaatu Azarion Zephyristal Ralvallod Mazzath Jarromiun Gargramon Tonothoris Ra’s Al Ghul.” She noticed Korra’s wince, for her wife knew she was in trouble whenever Asami used her full name. “Really? Another explosion? What were you thinking?”

Korra raised her hands defensively, her eyes wide. “They were asking for it! Humans are not running out of cultists! When I destroy one, another two pops out! Their ceremonies to summon me don’t stop! I need to find the source of their delusions. Insolent humans.”

Asami sighed. “I know.” The Demon Queen was well aware of Korra’s hatred of being summoned, particularly when innocent lives were at stake. She vividly remembered the expression on her wife’s face the first time they met thirteen years ago. Closing the distance between them, Asami embraced Korra, resting her head on her wife’s chest. “I know, but maybe you can handle it more subtly? I don’t want people hunting you down.”

She felt Korra relax into her embrace. Asami was relieved to know she still had this effect on Korra. When she had accepted Korra’s proposal, one of her fears was that the Demon Lord might grow tired or bored of her. Yet, even after all these years, the love she felt from Korra whenever they were together was palpable and unwavering.

Korra returned the embrace. “Okay. I’ll find a way to handle them more subtly. For you,” she promised Asami.

“Why don’t you use your powers of persuasion to ask those cultists where the source of their summoning ritual is?” Asami suggested.

“f*cking hell, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?” Korra exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and admiration in her voice.

Asami chuckled. “Because clearly, I’m the brains in this relationship.” Her light-hearted jab brought a genuine laugh out of Korra, a laugh she missed. A laugh she had loved so much ever since they met.

“How’s your day?” her wife asked once they settled on the bed.

“It was fine. The new engine for airplanes is in the final phase and is going smoothly,” she replied.

“Babe, I love what you’ve done for Republic City,” the Demon Lord whispered in her ear. During the eight years of her reign as CEO of Future Industries, Asami’s work had transformed the cityscape significantly. Under her leadership, Republic City saw the rebuilding of highways for better traffic flow, the introduction of eco-friendly public transport systems that reduced pollution, and the construction of new parks and green spaces that brought nature back into the urban environment. She had even spearheaded a project for sustainable energy, installing solar panels on major buildings and transitioning the city towards greener power sources.

She was proud of herself. And the Demon Lord was, too.

Korra didn’t need to say verbally that she was proud of Asami. The Demon Queen already felt her lord’s heart swelling with pride. But hearing Korra’s acknowledgment of her tangible contributions to the city still made her giddy, like she was nineteen again. It was a reminder of how far she had come, not just as a leader but as a force of positive change.

No one dared oppose Asami— except, of course, those foolish enough to do so like their rival Cabbage Corp. The CEO, Mr. Gan-Lau dared to drag Asami’s name through the mud, throwing baseless accusations that Future Industries were dealing with triads for business. So Asami dealt with him swiftly, procuring evidence that showed the opposite. Cabbage Corp was nothing more than dust at this point.

“How about you?” Asami inquired.

“Aside from preventing another ritual, things in the Underworld are a bit stressful. Some humans wanted to overthrow us. Pssh, as if they could. But they did wound me a bit.”

At that, Asami abruptly shot up from Korra’s chest in worry. “Are you okay?”

Korra chuckled, then kissed her. “Yes, I am. You’d feel it if I wasn’t.”

The Demon Queen sighed in relief, slumping back down on Korra. “I’m just worried because I’m not there with you.”

“I know. But don’t worry. I’m the Demon Lord. They can’t hurt me,” Korra said, flexing her muscles.

Speaking of her wife’s muscles… “Hmm,” Asami moaned, lightly scratching Korra’s exposed abdomen. “I can sense you’re stressed, my love. Do you want some relief?” she asked, biting her lower lip seductively. They had both been busy with their respective lives, so Asami missed their bonding time for the past month they had been away from each other.

Instantly, Korra’s pupils dilated, growling as she gripped Asami’s hips possessively. “I certainly do. What do you have in mind, wife?”

Asami’s blood all rushed down to her core at the tone of Korra’s voice; low, seductive, and full of want. “I could suck your co*ck. I know you’ve been wanting that…” she trailed off, her fingers slowly making their way down between her wife’s legs. She could already feel the bulge pressing against her thighs. Asami gripped it immediately, pumping slowly and deliberately. Korra didn’t need to make a show of going from soft to hard. They had talked about it before, but her wife was considerate of Asami’s wants and needs. When the Demon Queen craved Korra’s co*ck, she wanted the full experience, to feel it harden in her hands. Or against her lips.

Whichever she preferred.

Korra growled, gripping Asami’s hair and guiding her toward her arousal. “Put that mouth of yours to good use then,” Korra commanded, making Asami’s inner demon delight in the rough treatment.

No further words were exchanged. The Demon Queen pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses down the length until she reached the tip of Korra’s co*ck. Oh, how she had missed it, missed Korra.

She gave Korra’s flared tip a soft kiss before sucking on it. She gave a few more sucks before pointing her tongue, licking and probing the slit of Korra’s co*ck. Asami could hear her wife’s pleased grunts, encouraging her to ramp up her ministrations. Taking a deep breath, she devoured Korra’s co*ck into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down, using her hands to stroke whatever part wasn’t inside her.

She continued this motion until her nose touched Korra’s stomach.

“Asami... such a good girl. You’re taking my co*ck so well,” Korra praised.

Asami let out a sinful moan, her puss* clenching with jealousy. She continued her ministrations, her throat now accustomed to taking Korra’s large co*ck, until she felt it throb inside her wet heat. She popped it out, took a deep breath, and dove back in, finally feeling it twitch and release her wife’s thick, creamy seed.

“f*ck! That feels so good,” Korra exhaled once Asami had milked out every last drop.

The Demon Queen crawled back up Korra’s body and kissed her languidly, her tongue exploring the Demon Lord’s mouth. They both moaned at the sensation. After a while, Asami pulled back for air. “How was that, my Lord?” she panted. “Feeling any better?”

Korra nodded. “Yeah, definitely. My stress is relieved.”

“Good.” Asami slid off Korra to get on all fours on the bed. “Because my puss*’s been craving attention, too.”

She heard a growl beside her before feeling the bed dip behind her. Asami gasped when she felt Korra’s hand slap her buttocks. Then she felt Korra’s co*ck slide inside her. “Be careful what you wish for, my Queen,” was the last thing Asami heard before her brain was overwhelmed by pleasure.

—

“Yes, Opal. Korra and I would love to catch up. I just need to wake her up, and we’ll be on our way. Bye, see you,” Asami said, hanging up the phone before rolling over to Korra’s side. “Kor? Wake up.” Her wife stirred but did not fully awaken. Asami tried again, shaking her. “It’s already eight in the morning, my Lord.”

Finally, Korra opened her eyes blearily. “Five more minutes… Mornings are evil.” She then snored once again.

Asami chuckled. Despite her formidable stature, Korra was like an adorable child in the mornings. Sweet talk wouldn’t do. She had to change tactics. “Love,” she whispered low in the Demon Lord’s ear before taking a small bite. “I’m thirsty…” That got Korra’s attention.

The Demon Lord abruptly sat up, pinning Asami to the bed, already awake. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“You should’ve known that before marrying me,” Asami countered playfully, seductively wrapping her legs around Korra’s waist.

Korra growled, lunging for a passionate kiss. But before things could heat up, Asami’s phone rang again. The Demon Lord groaned, rolling back to allow her to answer. It was Opal again.

“Yes, Opal?” Asami asked, her irritation at being interrupted clear in her voice.

She could hear her best friend snickering on the other line. “I know what you’re up to, Asami. If I hadn’t called again, I know you two wouldn’t be up for the next few hours!”

“Oh, f*ck you, Opal!”

“Nope! f*ck your wife…later. After our hangout!” Opal said gleefully before hanging up.

Korra was now laughing as well. “Your friend is as feisty as ever,” she commented, clearly amused. The Demon Lord then got up, pulling Asami along toward the bathroom. “Now, come on. I believe we need to take a shower before we go.”

—

Asami and Korra, who was back in her human form, were walking hand in hand in the park. Since it was a fine day in spring, they decided to walk toward Narook’s Noodlery, where they were meeting Opal. People passing by often did a double-take. Asami was famous, after all. However, some of them were not just looking at the CEO of Future Industries. No. Their gazes were fixated on her wife. The Demon Queen couldn’t help but glare at them, a possessive instinct taking hold.

Korra, in her true form, was already attractive: dashing, tall, muscular – the stuff of many people’s wet dreams. But Korra in her human form? That was a different story altogether. Asami found herself fending off advances from women and men whenever Korra visited Future Industries. Despite knowing they were married, bonded souls for life, some admirers persisted, leading Asami to resort to intimidating them – much to her father’s distress – much like she had with Mr. Tanaka years ago.

Since then, Asami had only needed to be vigilant of people outside of Future Industries.

When a woman with a slender body stopped to do a double take on Korra, Asami felt a twinge of jealousy, not so much at the attention her wife received, but more about realizing how her own body had softened over the years. The woman eyeing Korra had the kind of toned, athletic body she once prided herself on.

Korra seemed oblivious to the stares, her entire focus on Asami. As they neared Narook’s Noodlery, Asami’s thoughts spiraled, silently comparing her slightly softer physique to the firmer bodies of the women they passed. “Maybe I should go back to the dojo,” she mused, feeling a mix of nostalgia and a nagging desire to regain her former fitness.

Pulled from her thoughts by a tug on her hand, Asami looked up into Korra’s concerned eyes. “Sorry. Just lost in thought,” she said.

Korra chuckled softly. “I know what you’re thinking, though. And you have nothing to worry about. To me, you’re still the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world,” she reassured Asami, her voice tinged with sincerity and love.

Asami playfully slapped Korra’s bicep. “I know, dork.”

Korra was about to retort when they felt a gust of wind behind them. It wasn’t just any wind. Asami recognized it instantly by heart. It was the telltale sign of someone manifesting behind them. Korra tensed up, confirming her suspicions. The Demons turned around and saw a man standing behind them.

Asami’s gaze shifted to the newcomer, feeling a subtle shift in Korra’s demeanor. The man standing before them was tall (about as tall as Korra) and authoritative, his bald head reflecting the gentle sunlight. His long beard, neatly groomed, added a sense of wisdom to his appearance. He wore a striking red robe over orange garments, making him stand out in the casual setting of the park.

Asami couldn’t help but notice the tension that seemed to emanate from this stranger. There was a certain gravitas about him, an air of leadership that was hard to miss. His eyes, sharp and discerning, were focused on Korra, and Asami could sense an undercurrent of seriousness in his posture and gaze. Asami flinched when she heard her wife’s reaction.

Korra snarled in greeting. “Hello, Tenzin.”

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

The moment Korra felt the gust of wind behind her, she knew who was about to show up. The Lord of the Higher Realm was a master of the wind, and this was his style: cool, collected, with a hint of arrogance. No. Not arrogance, but pride.

The Demon Lord hadn’t seen him for a long, long time, and if he showed up now… Korra knew why he was in the Upper Realm. Turning around, she snarled. “Hello, Tenzin.”

“Korra,” the man greeted formally in return, his posture as rigid as ever. Tenzin’s grey eyes, sharp and piercing, fixed on Korra, conveyed a mix of disapproval and concern. “We need to talk.”

“Figures,” the Demon Lord replied back. Before she could even get another word out, Tenzin’s gaze went over her shoulder. Korra couldn’t help but take a protective stance in front of Asami. But it didn’t matter. Tenzin brushed past her and held out a hand toward her wife.

“I’m Tenzin, Lord of the Higher Realm. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Sato,” he greeted gently.

Korra saw Asami visibly jump at the sudden attention. But Asami handled it gracefully, taking Tenzin’s hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you… Tenzin,” she said.

When their introductions were over, Tenzin turned his attention back to the Demon Lord. “Now. I believe we have pressing matters on our hands. And I’d like–”

Korra cut him off, “Cut the crap, Tenzin. I’m not surprised it has taken you this long to notice. I know why you’re here, so spill it out!” Her impatience got the best of her.

Tenzin cleared his throat and straightened his robe. The man had the audacity to look sheepish, which made Korra all the more irritated. “Yes, well. The council received word but could not confirm if you had taken a human wife. Well, now I can tell them that it is true.” He sighed as if he still had a say in Korra’s life. “You know very well that it’s not forbidden but frowned upon, Korra,” he stated firmly.

Korra defiantly crossed her arms and stood tall. “So? As you’ve said. It’s not forbidden. It’s our choice. Asami wanted it, too. Now, what do you want?” She wanted this discussion to be over with when she noticed Asami was getting uncomfortable.

Ignoring Korra’s question, Tenzin turned to Asami. “Ms. Sato, is this truly what you want? To go to the Underworld after your mortal life ends? Do you not desire paradise instead? Your contributions to Republic City alone would grant you eternal bliss.”

Asami seemed overwhelmed for a moment but quickly composed herself. “No. Why would I want that?” she asked firmly.

Before Tenzin could respond, Korra interjected. “I told you already. Now, back off!”

Finally, Tenzin’s patience snapped red-faced, much to Korra’s satisfaction. “Korra! You are now the Demon Lord, a position we are still disappointed about and not a petulant child! You should have been–”

“You lost your right to lecture me the moment you kicked me out!” Korra exploded, her frustration so intense that all the garbage cans in the park spontaneously combusted into flames. She could hear the distant screams of the people around them, but Korra didn’t care.

Tenzin’s expression shifted to one of sadness and weariness, but this only fueled Korra’s anger further. How dare he? Her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her nails dug into her palms, drawing pinpricks of blood. The tension in her jaw was visible, and her eyes blazed with a fire that mirrored the flames engulfing the garbage cans around them. Her rage stemmed from years of being ignored by Tenzin and his council, mocked for her progressive ideas to reform the corrupt system of the Higher Realm, and the deep-seated resentment towards Tenzin for his lack of support.

Korra was jolted from her reverie by Asami’s calming touch on her arm. “Love, it’s okay. Calm down. I’m not going anywhere without you. I promise,” her wife’s cool voice quenched the flames of her anger.

It was terrifying, really. Normally, it would take a day or two for Korra to cool down after such an outburst, but Asami had this incredible power to soothe her instantly. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Korra clasped Asami’s hand firmly, grounding herself. Taking a deep breath, she released her pent-up anger. “Thank you,” she said with a fond smile. Then, turning to Tenzin, she added firmly, “If you have nothing else to say, we have places to be. Good day, Tenzin.”

They began to walk away, but it was as if they were splashed with cold water when Tenzin dropped an unexpected revelation. “Good day. And Ms. Sato, you should know your mother is waiting for you in the Higher Realm. Please think about it.”

***

The tension in the air at Narook’s was so thick Asami thought she could cut it with a knife. For the first time in their married life, she saw Korra tense, her body rigid to the point of trembling. Their booth was silent, save for the clinking of their chopsticks against their bowls. Even Opal felt it, her gaze shifting between the couple, but Asami was thankful she didn’t bring it up.

Asami was shocked to hear Tenzin’s revelation. Although she shouldn’t have been surprised, considering she remembered her mother was a kind, loving person. It was just… She didn’t know what to feel or think. Korra and she had talked about her mother before, but her wife never mentioned where Yasuko Sato went after she passed away. Asami hadn’t asked, guessing in the back of her mind that she didn’t want to know. Now that it was brought up…

“So…” Opal started, startling the couple from their thoughts. “What are you guys up to?”

Thank goodness for Opal and her uncanny ability to dispel tension. Chuckling, Asami said, “Oh, nothing much. The prototype for a new airplane engine is going to be tested this week. I’m so excited…”

From there, they chatted as if the whole thing with Tenzin never happened. However, Korra was still off. They needed to talk about it, so after they finished eating, Asami bid farewell to her best friend, promising to make more time for the historian.

Once they got home, Korra went straight to the bathroom. That was weird. Korra usually transformed back to her demon form before doing anything. Asami needed to know what was happening.

"Kor? Are you okay?" she asked after knocking on the bathroom door.

There was no answer. But then Asami felt a stabbing pain in her heart. She immediately checked the doorknob and found it unlocked. “I’m coming in, love,” she warned before opening the door. Inside, she saw Korra slumped on the floor, hyperventilating. “Korra!” She rushed to her wife’s side. “It’s okay. Breathe with me.”

After a while, Korra gradually calmed down, and the stabbing pain Asami felt in her own heart began to dull. Asami cupped Korra’s face, immediately noticing her wife’s blue eyes were dim. “Korra, baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” her wife rasped out.

“For what?”

Korra looked up at her. “For not telling you… about me. About your mother.” She seemed on the verge of tears.

Asami smiled softly, trying to convey to Korra that everything was alright. “I know, and I forgive you. But now you have the chance to tell me.”

Korra placed her forehead against Asami’s, taking slow, deep breaths. “I’m just... I told myself I would tell you. I was going to bring it up, but I kept delaying it, and now it has blown up in my face. I’m... afraid. For the first time in my life, I’m afraid of losing something. Losing you. But you have every right to know.”

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk there,” Asami suggested gently.

So, they went to bed, with Asami holding Korra this time, providing her with the comfort she needed.

In the soft glow of their bedroom, Korra began to unravel her story.

=====

In the Higher Realm, every soul was promised paradise. Lush green fields stretched infinitely into the horizon, dotted with flowers, trees, wild plants, and houses scattered around, each a manifestation of the souls’ wishes. On paper, the Higher Realm was indeed paradise.

But Korra saw it differently. To her, it was a façade, far from a true paradise.

For centuries, she remained a silent observer, scrutinizing the souls dwelling there. One soul, in particular, caught her attention: Hypatia of Alexandria.

Known among humans as a mathematician, philosopher, and astronomer, Hypatia’s brilliant mind captivated Korra, and her beauty was an added allure. The tragic end to Hypatia’s life – murdered and stripped naked in the streets for teaching against societal norms – left a deep impression on Korra, who hoped Hypatia would find her deserved paradise in the Higher Realm.

But the reality was starkly different. Over the years, Korra watched as Hypatia’s once bright eyes gradually dulled, her once sharp mind slowly degenerating. In a conversation, when Korra asked Hypatia about her teachings, the response was a blank stare and a forgetful, “I teach?”

That moment marked the breaking point for Korra.

Driven by her desire for reform, Korra embarked on an experiment. She took Hypatia to a garden one day, engaging her in mathematical pursuits, not by wishful thinking but through active problem-solving. Day by day, week by week, they worked. Over a year, Hypatia’s enthusiasm for life reignited; she was no longer a hollow version of herself.

However, this drew the attention of a council member, Tarrlok. Dark-skinned and shorter than Korra, he had an irritating, nasally voice. He discovered Hypatia teaching Korra math in the garden. Korra was arrested and then put on trial for “corrupting” the pure souls of the Higher Realm.

In her defense, Korra passionately argued, “Look at these souls! Their minds have turned to mush from staying here too long! We should be restoring their vigor, not letting it wither away because we are their guardians, their guides, not their jailers!” She had hoped for Tenzin’s support — he was the Lord of the Higher realm and her mentor, after all — but his eyes reflected only sadness and disappointment. It was a stab of betrayal.

The council found Korra guilty in a matter of months, a rapid verdict by their standards, for their trials took centuries to finish.

“The spirit guide, Korra, is found guilty by the Council of the Higher Realm,” Tenzin declared solemnly. “We hereby sentence you to be banished forever from this realm.” He brought the gavel down with finality, signaling the end of Korra’s time in what was once considered ‘paradise.’

=====

“He banished you just for trying to help!?” Asami asked, incredulous and angry at Tenzin, who she had just learned was essentially the god.

“Yes, he did,” Korra confirmed, a trace of sadness in her smile.

Asami’s thoughts swirled as she processed this new information about the Higher Realm. It made her appreciate Korra’s presence in her life even more, offering her something beyond a pretend paradise. But then another thought struck her, causing her gaze to drop, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of hair. “Kor, do you think... do you think my mom’s already… Since she’s in the Higher Realm, maybe she’s…” she trailed off, the words catching in her throat.

Korra reached out and gently took Asami’s hand when she sensed her turmoil, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She still has her mind intact, love. Don’t worry,” she said softly, her voice soothing Asami’s frayed nerves.

Korra’s look then turned solemn, and she took both of Asami’s hands in hers, holding them with care. “So, I’ll understand if you want to be with her. Perhaps both of you can make the change that I failed to achieve. Maybe we’ll me–”

Asami’s heart clenched at the thought of leaving Korra, her love for her wife surging like a tidal wave. She interrupted Korra with a kiss, firm and full of conviction. “Why would you even think that?” she asked as they broke apart, her eyes searching Korra’s for understanding. “I promised you, didn’t I? I’ll be with you. And how would that even be possible? We’re bonded for life, right?”

“Well, there’s this process where you rip my heart out and throw it into the fire pi-”

“No. I won’t do that, Korra.”

Korra’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and relief washing over her face. “But… she’s your mother. I thought–”

Asami shook her head firmly, cutting her off once more. “I know, but… I was only six when she died, but I know that she’ll support me with my decisions. And, love, who knows? Maybe one day, we can be the ones to change the system.” Asami’s voice was steady, her resolve clear in her eyes. She believed her mother would understand, recalling Yasuko Sato’s love for challenges.

Watching Korra’s eyes brighten to their usual otherworldly blue, now glowing with renewed purpose, Asami felt a warmth spread through her. She smiled, her heart swelling with love. “I love you so much, Asami.”

“I know. I love you, too.” They kissed again, their bond deepening with each shared breath. “Now, tell me more. How did you end up becoming the Demon Lord?”

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

How many millennia ago

Korra wandered the Earth. For years, she aimlessly traveled across continents, studying and observing humans in their daily lives. Occasionally, she meddled in their affairs, offering help to those in need.

Sometimes, she found herself in the midst of war, fighting alongside humans in their petty quests for dominance. It was during these times that Korra developed her disgust for humanity. She watched as history repeated itself — corrupt leaders sacrificing the innocent on the altars of their greed. Her fists clenched at the senselessness of it all, a deep scowl etching her face as she fought alongside these mortals, each battle further fueling her disillusionment.

Then, she met a formidable woman. They were on opposite sides of the battlefield. Instantly, Korra knew this woman was different. When their swords clashed, Korra realized she was a demon. The banished guide knew she couldn’t hold back, for this woman could certainly end her life there and then.

So, they fought until Korra finally overpowered her opponent, nearly ending the demon’s life.

“Why did you spare me?” the demon asked, her voice weak yet tinged with a certain defiance.

Korra towered over her, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t want to waste a life,” she stated, her voice firm yet reflective. “You’re a talented fighter. Why are you siding with the enemy?”

The demon’s weak chuckle was laced with bitterness. “Right side? In war? You’re naive,” she rasped. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. I know you. You’re the one they banished from the Higher Realm, right?”

Korra felt a pang of pain at the mention of her banishment. Memories of the Higher Realm, with its false sense of perfection and its inhabitants lost in an eternal stupor, flooded her mind. She had tried to bring change, to inject life into the dull eyes of souls like Hypatia, but her efforts were met with scorn and exile.

So, when Korra nodded, the demon continued. “The stuck-ups up there don’t know anything. They just sit on their thrones, pretending everything’s okay.”

Korra’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing within. “You think I don’t know that? Why do you think they banished me? I tried to change things, but they wouldn’t listen... They never listen.”

Unfazed, the demon proposed, “Then I have a suggestion. Come with me to the Underworld.”

“What? How?” Korra was taken aback.

“You heard me. Come with me to the Underworld. With your strength, we can overthrow the current ruler. He’s a tyrant. Most of us are dissatisfied with his rule. Alone, I didn’t have the strength to fight him, but with you… maybe we stand a chance. You could become the new Demon Lord and bring the change you wanted in the Higher Realm in the Underworld. As for how…I was summoned by humans, so I know a portal to get back.”

Kuvira’s proposal took her by surprise. The idea of overthrowing the Underworld’s ruler sparked a new purpose in Korra. She was weary of her wanderings on Earth, of watching human folly repeat itself. This was an opportunity to make a real difference, to challenge a system, something she had longed to do.

“I’m Korra,” she finally said, her voice steadier, her eyes now reflecting a newfound determination.

“Kuvira,” the demon replied, offering a hand – a gesture of alliance that Korra accepted. And with that, they vanished from the mortal realm with a gust of wind.

—

“Welcome to the Underworld.”

Korra took in her surroundings, her thoughts echoing, So, this is the Underworld. It was unsightly. The Underworld lay beneath a bleak, dark sky, painted with reddish clouds stretching across the horizon. The fields around her were barren, utterly devoid of life. Moans of tormented souls filled the air, a haunting soundtrack to a realm of eternal despair.

“Where do we start?” Korra asked, turning to the demon beside her who had recovered from their battle.

Kuvira moved ahead, effortlessly sliding down the cliff. “We’ll meet some of my allies,” she said over her shoulder, leading the way across the rocky hills.

As they journeyed for days, stopping occasionally to rest, Kuvira shared more about the dire situation in the Underworld. Their conversation unfolded as they trekked the barren lands.

“The current Demon Lord, Unalaq, he’s a traitor,” Kuvira spat, her anger at his betrayal evident. “He’s allied with humans, giving those weaklings the power to summon lesser demons for their dirty work. That’s how I ended up in the Upper Realm. Us demons should be here.”

Korra’s brow furrowed. Kuvira had a point. While she was contemplating, she heard another blood-chilling scream from a human soul. It was her opportunity to broach the subject. “And the human souls?”

Kuvira shrugged dismissively. “They’re tortured, as they should be. What else is there for them?”

Korra didn’t respond, but the thought lingered in her mind, stirring a silent discomfort.

Their journey led them to a cavern, its entrance a gaping maw in the rocky landscape. The interior was vast and dimly lit, the walls glistening with moisture and the air heavy with the scent of earth and sulfur. They were both tired, their exhaustion weighing heavily on them, but they pushed forward into the cavern's depths.

Inside, they were suddenly confronted by four demons. The creatures hissed and bared their fangs, ready to pounce on Korra, mistaking her for an intruder. Kuvira’s swift intervention halted them.

“Stop!” she commanded, stepping in front of Korra. “This is Korra, and she’s not your enemy. She is the one who will lead us to a new era. She’s our future Demon Lord.”

The demons eyed Korra warily, their hostility fading into a cautious curiosity as they took in Kuvira’s confident proclamation.

As the tension in the air dissipated, the demons relaxed and introduced themselves to Korra.

“Welcome, Korra. I am Zaheer,” said the short demon with a bald head. His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, filled with a sense of purpose. He pointed to a tall demon with an impressively long mustache that Korra found oddly fascinating. “This is Ghazan.” Ghazan nodded, his stoic face breaking into a small smile. Next, he gestured to a demon without arms, her presence commanding despite her unique appearance. “Ming Hua.” Ming Hua's expression was unreadable, but her eyes were keen and observant. Finally, he indicated a tall demon with a distinctive mark on her forehead. “And this is P’Li, my wife.” P’Li’s gaze was sharp, an underlying strength in her posture. Zaheer then turned fully to Korra, spreading his arms wide. “And we are the Red Lotus. Revolutionaries seeking change in the system.”

Korra absorbed their introductions, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of kinship. “Korra... But you already knew that. I’m banished from the Higher Realm for wanting change, too. It seems we share the same goal.”

“Indeed,” Zaheer agreed.

Observing them, Korra felt a flicker of hope. Here were beings like her, disillusioned with the status quo, yearning for change. Each of them exuded a sense of determination and strength that resonated with her own desires. She found herself inspired by their commitment, and a sense of purpose began to take root within her. This was a chance to make a real difference, to lead a movement that could reshape the very fabric of the Underworld. So, she gestured for them to huddle. “Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Over the course of months, Korra, Kuvira, and the Red Lotus gathered more allies as they meticulously planned their coup. Among their new recruits were Mako and Bolin, demon brothers who had been used and abused by the Demon Lord for centuries. Korra welcomed them with open arms, recognizing their potential and the injustices they had endured.

During this time, Korra embraced her transformation, gradually adopting more demon-like attributes each day. She ate what they ate, drank what they drank, and bathed in the same oasis as her new comrades. Her immersion into their world was complete, forging her identity as one of them.

And most importantly, she trained. Korra honed her body, carrying tons of stones on her shoulder every day while walking up a hill. She trained to be a better fighter. She practiced sword fighting with Kuvira, engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Zaheer and the Red Lotus, and learned to adapt to various situations with the help of the brothers.

She also dedicated time to training on her own, ensuring she never forgot the positive aspects she had learned from the Higher Realm. This included finding peace of mind through meditation.

A century passed, and their preparations were finally complete. Korra and her allies were ready to strike. Remarkably, the Demon Lord and his minions remained oblivious to their plotting. Blinded by arrogance and self-importance, he failed to see the uprising that was brewing right under his nose. The stage was set for their coup, and Korra was at the heart of it all.

Finally, the moment arrived. Gaining entry to the tower was straightforward, but progressing through it proved challenging. They encountered resistance, clashing with the Demon Lord’s generals. Yet, Korra had her own formidable allies. One by one, they overcame the generals, each ally choosing to stay behind to hold the line as Korra advanced alone, ultimately coming face-to-face with Unalaq himself.

So this is what the Demon Lord looks like, Korra thought as she sized up her adversary. Unalaq was tall and lanky, his skin a deep shade of red. His gray hair, long and braided, fell over his shoulders, and his piercing blue eyes bore into her with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She was pulled out of her musings when Unalaq spoke.

“So, you’re the one disturbing the peace in the Underworld,” the Demon Lord snarled, his voice nasal and grating, each word dripping with contempt for her.

“No,” Korra scoffed defiantly.

Unalaq’s face turned impossibly redder. “No? How dare you barge into the Underworld and cause chaos, outsider!”

“No. Because you’re the one causing chaos and discontent here in the first place!”

No further words were needed. The only sounds filling the tower were the clash of steel, the ripping of flesh, and the loud thuds of bodies being hurled around. The ground itself shook from the impact of their fierce battle.

Korra had Unalaq cornered, poised to deliver the final blow, when the Demon Lord unleashed an unexpected attack. A tendril of water struck her shoulder with such force that Korra stumbled backward, caught completely off guard. What the hell is that? she silently questioned, barely regaining her stance before another watery whip lashed out, hitting her with even greater intensity.

Panic surged through her veins. While she was getting hit by a barrage of water, fire, air, and earth, she wondered if she had been betrayed by those she considered allies by not telling her about Unalaq’s true powers. But that thought quickly dissolved. It made no sense—why would they appoint her as their leader only to betray her at the final moment? This had to be a secret power Unalaq had concealed from all of demonkind. Another hit like that, and she feared it might be over for her. Thankfully, her rigorous training hadn’t been in vain. Despite the pain and surprise, her mind remained clear, echoing Tenzin’s teachings from a past life.

“Be the leaf,” he had advised her, words that seemed almost whimsical at the time.

“Now’s the time to be a leaf,” Korra mentally prepared herself, using the mantra to fuel her movements. She began to dodge with newfound agility, weaving between the tendrils of water and ice Unalaq hurled at her. With every graceful evasion, she noticed Unalaq’s growing panic, his attacks becoming more desperate and less coordinated. Meanwhile, Korra conserved her strength, her resolve hardening with each successful dodge.

Just as she was adapting to Unalaq’s assault, her allies finally breached the tower’s summit. They were about to help, but she extended her arm, effectively stopping them from advancing.

“No. He’s mine,” she growled, panting from the exertion of the battle. Her pride would not allow them to intervene. She needed to be the one to defeat the Demon Lord, to ensure no one would ever question her strength and resolve.

As their brutal fight reached its climax, Korra and Unalaq circled each other warily, both panting heavily from exertion. Unalaq, with his lanky form and unnerving blue eyes, moved with a deceptive swiftness that belied his appearance. Korra’s muscles were screaming with fatigue, but she couldn’t falter. She knew this was the moment to end it. She feinted to the left, and as Unalaq lunged, she sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind him. Using her leverage, she threw him to the ground.

Unalaq tried to recover, but Korra was faster. She pinned him down, her hands tight around his throat. As he struggled beneath her, his eyes filled with a mix of fury and fear. In a swift, decisive move, Korra sharpened her nails as Kuvira taught her and ripped out Unalaq’s throat. His hot blood spurted all over her face, dripping down her body. The sound echoed hauntingly in the otherwise silent chamber.

Breathing heavily, Korra stood up, her gaze fixed on the lifeless form of the former Demon Lord. She had done it. She had defeated Unalaq and claimed his throne. But before she could declare victory, Kuvira’s hand landed on her shoulder. “The job’s not done, Korra,” she cautioned.

“What… what do I need to do?” Korra asked, her voice faltering with exhaustion.

Kuvira gestured towards Unalaq’s chest, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Rip out his heart and consume it. It’s the source of his power. Eat it and claim his powers. Then we will be yours forever.”

Korra gazed at Unalaq’s lifeless body, her mind wrestling with trepidation. Yet, knowing what was at stake, she steeled herself. Without hesitation, Korra plunged her hand into the former Demon Lord’s chest, tore out his heart, and consumed it.

She immediately felt an intense, scorching heat coursing through her body. It was a heat fiercer than the flames dancing around them, a searing sensation that seemed to set her very soul ablaze.

As she devoured the last morsel, a surge of immense power overwhelmed her, sending her collapsing in agony. Her body contorted on the ground as she experienced the excruciating sensation of her insides tearing apart and knitting back together. Through her pain, a mocking laughter escaped her lips - was this a curse or a blessing?

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the excruciating pain subsided into a bearable throb. With great effort, Korra pushed herself to her feet, meeting the gazes of Kuvira and the other demons. They looked upon her with a mix of awe and reverence, a silent acknowledgment of her newfound power and authority.

Kuvira stepped forward, her voice a soft yet resolute whisper, “It is done. Our lives...my life is forever yours, my Lord.” She bowed deeply, one knee to the ground, her green eyes reflecting what seemed like admiration and lust. One by one, the others followed, bowing in allegiance to their new leader.

At that moment, a new era was ushered in, marking the beginning of Korra’s reign as the Demon Lord.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Present Day

The sunlight hitting her face woke the Demon Lord up. Staring at the ceiling, Korra reflected on a new feeling she had just experienced. She felt lighter as if the weight of the Underworld had been lifted from her shoulders. Korra glanced down at her wife’s sleeping form. Black hair splayed out on the pillow, lips parted slightly as a thin trail of drool trickled down toward her chin, and she still looked beautiful, utterly at peace. The gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the soft, even rhythm of her heartbeat - these simple, human signs of life filled Korra with an indescribable warmth. There was a softness to Asami’s face in sleep that always mesmerized her, a contrast to the sharp, focused intensity she carried in wakefulness. The morning light cast a warm glow over her, accentuating the soft curve of her cheek and the gentle arch of her eyebrows. In this quiet moment, Korra couldn’t help but admire the serene beauty of her wife, feeling a profound gratitude for their shared life and the journey that had brought them here.

Korra had wondered if recounting the story of her ascent to Demon Lord would trouble her wife, yet Asami’s reaction, time and again, offered pleasant surprises. Reflecting on it, Korra realized she should have known better. Gently brushing a stray hair from her wife’s face, the Demon Lord placed a tender kiss atop Asami’s head. Asami stirred, waking with a smile as their eyes locked.

“Good morning,” Asami’s voice rasped, soft and warm.

“Good morning. Thank you for listening,” Korra responded, her tone gentle, as though hesitant to break the morning’s tranquility.

“Thank you for sharing your story. I’m just glad you opened up, even if it took a while,” Asami murmured, snuggling closer.

“I’m sorry,” Korra whispered.

Asami responded with a kiss. “It’s alright. I understand that there are some things that are difficult to share, especially when they weigh heavily on you.”

Korra truly felt fortunate to have Asami by her side. From the moment their eyes met, she knew Asami was someone extraordinary— the only one who had ever captured her heart. “I love you,” she whispered, holding Asami’s gaze.

“I love you, too.”

—

After breakfast, Asami headed to work while Korra returned to the Underworld. She needed to prepare for a hunt to find the source of the summoning tomes that cultists had used to call upon her repeatedly. Korra was growing weary of these humans’ antics and resolved to put an end to it once and for all.

Upon materializing in the Demon Tower—or the “Demon Apartment,” as Asami fondly called it—Korra was immediately met by her Demon General #1, Kuvira. “Report,” Korra demanded.

“My Lord,” Kuvira greeted, thumping her fist over her heart in salute. “The Underworld remains stable. However, there are some concerns…” Kuvira hesitated, searching for the right words.

Korra’s annoyance grew at the hesitation. “What is it?” she asked as they walked.

“It’s just that... some of the other demons have noticed your extended absences. They fear you’ve been spending too much time in the Upper Realm.”

A surge of anger rose within the Demon Lord. “That’s because my wife is there!” she snapped.

“I understand, my Lord, but…” Kuvira trailed off, seeking approval to continue.

“Out with it.”

“It might be wise to balance your time more evenly between here and the Upper Realm. It seems that you are becoming more and more soft toward humans. After all the millennia of hating them and their ways, you seem to be liking their company,” Kuvira said cautiously.

Korra exhaled a tired sigh. She acknowledged that Kuvira and the others had a valid concern; neglecting her duties in the Underworld could risk another uprising. The other demons had risen before, and nothing stopped them from doing so again under her leadership. And her other concern was true. She did like spending time in the Upper Realm. Ever since marrying Asami, she saw that humans still had redeeming qualities to them, like kindness, understanding, and love. But now wasn’t the time to ponder about it. “Alright, I will address this. I’ll apologize to them, but for now, continue to oversee the Underworld for me. I’ll be in the library.”

“My L-Korra. Why?” Kuvira asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Now this was where her hatred for most of humanity came roaring back in. “I need to find where the humans have been getting their summoning rituals. It’s time to put an end to this,” Korra explained with determination.

That seemed to reassure Kuvira. “Yes, my Lord.”

—

Korra flipped through another ancient tome, her eyes scanning the lines rapidly. “Useless,” she muttered under her breath, the frustration evident in her tone. She slammed the book shut, a cloud of dust puffing into the air. “Nothing. Why is there nothing useful here?” she grumbled, pushing back from the table strewn with open scrolls and books.

Glancing at the towering shelves filled with the Underworld’s knowledge, she contemplated the futility of her search. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night,” Korra decided, standing up to stretch her stiff muscles. She methodically placed the books back on their respective shelves, her mind already on Asami waiting for her at home.

Materializing back into their living room, Korra found Asami curled up on the couch, a book in hand. “How’d it go?” Asami asked, looking up with concern.

Korra sighed, dropping onto the couch next to her. “Another dead end. I’m starting to think these cultists are pulling these summoning rituals out of thin air,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair in exasperation.

Asami set her book aside and wrapped an arm around Korra’s shoulders. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” she said, offering a comforting smile and a sweet kiss.

This became their routine over the next week. Korra would spend her evenings buried in ancient texts while Asami waited patiently for her return. Each night, Korra’s reports of progress—or the lack thereof—were met with Asami’s unwavering support.

Then, one evening, Korra remembered Asami’s suggestion: to use her powers of persuasion to ask the cultists where the source of their rituals was. So, she waited for the next summoning. Two days later, it finally arrived.

The moment she felt the pull into the Upper Realm, she quickly materialized to prevent the innocent young woman from being sacrificed. As with all previous summoning rituals, a man holding a large tome, along with the other cultists, gasped at her appearance. When the leader regained his composure, he greeted her reverently, as every cultist leader before him had.

“O Great Korrazaarion, the Dread Sovereign,” he intoned, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and awe as he bowed deeply, pressing his forehead into the cold ground. “It is by your forbearing grace that we—”

The Demon Lord wasted no time. She flash-stepped toward the leader, seizing him by the neck as she peered into his fearful brown eyes. “Where is the source?”

—

Korra materialized in their living room with an energy Asami hadn’t seen in days. “I found it, Asami! The source of the summoning rituals—it’s hidden in the catacombs beneath Ba Sing Se!”

Asami’s eyes lit up with excitement mixed with concern. “That’s great, Korra! But you have to be careful.”

Korra nodded, capturing Asami’s hands in hers. “I will. I’m not going in unprepared. And besides, what could these puny humans do to me? I’m the Demon Lord,” she asserted with confidence.

“I know. But just…take Mako or Bolin. Please?”

“Okay,” she replied, to ease her wife’s worry. She then kissed Asami, infusing the moment with passion. “I’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

That night, they set aside their worries, finding solace in each other’s embrace, leading them to make love with renewed passion and intensity.

—

Korra trudged through the catacombs beneath Ba Sing Se with a slight edge of irritation. Having Mako by her side wasn’t part of her original plan. She was the Demon Lord, after all—more than capable of handling whatever these ancient halls might throw at her. But Asami had insisted, and Korra found it impossible to refuse her wife anything. So here they were, Mako’s presence a constant reminder of her concession.

Mako seemed to sense her irritation but chose to play it off with his typical light-hearted demeanor. “You know, Korra, you’ve become soft. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d let someone talk you into bringing a backup,” he teased, dodging a low-hanging cobweb with a casual grace.

Korra shot him a look that was meant to be a warning but only served to encourage him. “Asami worries, that’s all. And I’m not ‘turning soft,’” she retorted, her voice echoing slightly off the ancient stone walls. The truth was, Asami’s concern had been enough to sway her, a fact that Mako found endlessly amusing.

“Ah, love does conquer all, even the will of the Demon Lord,” Mako quipped, ducking just in time to avoid a playful swipe from Korra. Despite her efforts to remain focused and aloof, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Mako’s presence, initially an annoyance, had become a source of begrudging amusem*nt.

As they navigated the labyrinthine passages, Mako’s lighthearted banter provided a counterpoint to the oppressive atmosphere of the catacombs. “Watch out for the traps, Korra. Wouldn’t want to explain to Asami how you got taken out by a centuries-old booby trap,” he joked, pointing out an almost invisible tripwire stretched across their path.

Korra huffed, a mixture of annoyance and appreciation coloring her tone. “Just keep your eyes open, Mako. We’re not here to play games.”

Despite her insistence on professionalism, Korra had to admit that Mako’s presence was not entirely unwelcome. His keen observation skills and familiarity with her fighting style made him an invaluable ally in a place like this. And if she was honest, Korra appreciated having someone who understood her so well by her side, even if she’d never admit it out loud.

As they approached the heart of the catacombs, the central chamber where the source of the summoning tomes was said to be hidden, Korra felt a surge of determination. Mako’s playful nudges had lightened the mood, but now it was time to focus. They were about to confront the heart of darkness that had caused so much trouble, and Korra was ready to end it once and for all, with or without Mako’s teasing.

As Korra and Mako stealthily navigated the catacombs’ winding paths, the eerie silence was suddenly broken by a chorus of low, monotonous chants. They emerged into a vast, dimly lit cavern, where a circle of acolytes stood, their robes swaying gently as they chanted in an ancient, guttural language that seemed to crawl under Korra’s skin. And in the middle of the stone slab, there was a wavy dagger stabbed into it.

“Korra, what is this?” Mako whispered, his voice tinged with unease.

“They’re performing a summoning ritual,” Korra replied, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. “But something’s off. There’s no sacrifice.”

The acolytes’ voices grew louder, more insistent, as one of them raised a wavy dagger into the air. The blade glowed ominously, mirroring the summoning circle etched into the ground, its sinister light flickering in the cavern’s shadows. The chant morphed into a crescendo, words Korra recognized from the darkest tomes of demonology:

“Nathrak, Uthvas bethud, dochiel dienvay…”

A cold shiver ran down Korra’s spine. “They’re not just summoning me.” Then Korra noticed the symbols around the acolytes, pulsating in tandem with the glowing dagger. “They aim to bi–” But before she could finish her sentence, the ground beneath them trembled, and the air thickened with power.

Realizing the danger, Korra acted instinctively. She grabbed Mako, summoning a portal with a forceful wave of her hand. “Get help!” she shouted, pushing him through just as the acolytes turned their attention towards her, their chanting reaching a fever pitch.

The last thing she heard was Mako’s voice echoing back through the closing portal, full of concern. “Korra!”

***

Lunch with Hiroshi was always a highlight for Asami, a time to reconnect and share the myriad details of their lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, covering everything from business achievements to personal anecdotes. But Hiroshi’s next question was like a curveball that caught Asami completely off guard.

“So, Asami, when are you and Korra going to give me grandchildren?” he asked, his casual tone belying the weight of the inquiry.

The question struck Asami like a physical blow, causing her to inhale sharply, which led to an unexpected coughing fit. A piece of her arctic hen had gone down the wrong pipe. As she struggled to regain her composure, she could feel her father’s eyes on her, filled with a mix of concern and poorly concealed amusem*nt.

“Dad! What kind of question is that?” Asami managed to gasp out between coughs, her voice a mix of astonishment and slight indignation.

Hiroshi merely shrugged, his attempt at appearing nonchalant failing to mask the gleam of amusem*nt in his eyes. “What? We’re both getting old, sweetie. I miss the laughter of children, and I especially miss having a little helper in the garage.”

The words struck a chord in Asami, igniting a flurry of emotions within her. A blend of guilt and longing washed over her. She knew she could give her father almost anything, but the prospect of grandchildren was complicated, tangled in the reality of her and Korra’s unique relationship. She must admit, she also wanted kids, but it seemed not plausible in the foreseeable future. Memories of their first night together resurfaced, particularly Korra’s words about the possibility of children. “Producing a child of our own blood is different. I’ll explain it to you when the time comes.” With a heavy heart, she explained what Korra had said.

“You can always ask Korra,” Hiroshi softly pushed.

“Okay, Dad. I’ll ask when we—” Her words trailed off abruptly as a strange sensation, or rather the absence of one, washed over her. It was as if a vital connection had been severed. She stood up so suddenly, the chair toppled over, scraping loudly against the floor, her movements fueled by a surge of panic. Her hands went instinctively to her chest, then to her temples, as if trying to physically grasp what her heart and mind could no longer feel.

“Sweetie, what is it?” Hiroshi’s voice was laced with alarm, his earlier amusem*nt replaced by deep concern as he stood up, reaching out to her.

“Dad... Korra, she’s…” Asami’s voice broke, her eyes welling up with tears. The realization hit her with the force of a tidal wave. “I can’t feel Korra.”

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Panic clawed at Asami’s insides, a maelstrom of fear and helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her. She paced the room frantically, her mind racing for solutions. “Dammit, Korra,” she whispered through gritted teeth, a sense of desperation seeping into her voice. “Why didn’t you leave me a way to contact the others?” She felt so isolated, cut off from a world that Korra was part of, a world she had no other links to. The realization that she was utterly powerless to help her wife caused tears to well up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she succumbed to despair.

It was in this moment of utter vulnerability that Mako suddenly materialized in her living room. Asami gasped, stepping back in shock. She had always known Korra possessed the power to traverse realms at will, but to see Mako do the same shattered her understanding of the boundaries between their worlds.

“Mako?! What happened? And how did you get here?” The urgency in her voice was palpable, a mix of hope and dread as she grasped at the lifeline unexpectedly presented to her.

Mako’s appearance was one of turmoil, his face etched with lines of worry and guilt that seemed to age him beyond his years. “Asami… They got Korra. S-she pushed me into a portal and imbued a bit of her powers in me before they could grab me too,” he explained, his voice thick with emotion. It was clear the ordeal had taken its toll on him, the weight of his words heavy with implication.

Asami felt her heart drop, the information hitting her like a physical blow. The implications of Mako’s words were terrifying, sparking a new wave of fear for Korra’s safety. But amidst the shock, a spark of resolve flickered to life within her. Korra had acted to protect Mako, to send him as a messenger, perhaps even as a protector.

Gathering her composure, Asami wiped away her tears, her determination hardening. “What do we do now?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt. The presence of Mako, a tangible connection to Korra, reignited a flicker of hope within her. Together, they would find a way to bring Korra back, no matter what it took.

Mako met her gaze, the shared resolve between them unspoken but palpable. “We gather the generals. We’ll go into the Underworld, and with her power in me, I can get us there. We mount a rescue,” he declared, his determination mirroring Asami’s own.

—

Their hurried footsteps echoed in the Demon Tower, with Bolin now accompanying them. They needed to consult the generals on the best approach to locate Korra. Asami fought to keep her rising panic at bay with each passing minute without her wife.

When they reached Kuvira’s floor, Asami rapped on the general’s door with growing impatience. It swung open, and Asami felt a wave of relief to see Kuvira inside. “Kuvira, I–” But the general’s snarl cut her off, a reaction that shocked Asami, though it didn’t completely surprise her. She vividly remembered Kuvira’s disdainful look the first time Korra introduced them years ago. However, this was neither the time nor the place for resentment. “Kuvira,” Asami stated more forcefully, “Korra’s missing.”

Kuvira’s green eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the news, betraying a flicker of fear behind her usually stoic demeanor. “What happened?” she directed her question to Mako.

Mako relayed the events that led to them knocking on the demon general’s door. Asami’s heart ached with what happened, feeling guilty that she wasn’t there for Korra when she needed her most. Some kind of Demon Queen I am, she scoffed internally. But her self-reproach was abruptly interrupted when Kuvira lunged at Mako.

The general seized the lesser demon by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “You were supposed to protect her!” Kuvira’s voice was a mix of fury and accusation.

Mako struggled for air, his words coming out in gasps. “I...ack...couldn’t do anything. She...p-pushed me into a portal…” His eyes pleaded for understanding despite the tightening grip around his neck.

By now, the other demon generals gathered around them. Asami had to do something. “Enough!” she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “This isn’t the time for blame. Our priority is finding Korra!”

Kuvira snapped her head at her, baring her teeth in defiance. “Be grateful you’re the Demon Queen, or I wouldn’t hesitate to make you regret interfering,” Kuvira hissed, her voice laced with barely contained fury.

Asami felt those words like a slap to the face. She was humiliated publicly, in front of Korra’s generals. But despite the humiliation of being publicly challenged, Asami stood her ground, recognizing that her authority was being tested in front of her allies. This was not the time for pride or power struggles. Every moment wasted was a moment Korra was in peril. “This isn’t about us,” Asami continued, her tone softening yet imbued with a quiet strength. “Korra needs us. We need to find her.”

Thankfully, that seemed to make Kuvira realize the gravity of the situation, and her aggressive posture slightly relaxed. “Fine. But I’m doing this for Korra’s sake,” she continued, releasing Mako and turning her focus back to Asami, “I’ll put aside my grievances. We need to act quickly. Zaheer, take charge of the Underworld.” Her voice was still cold, but it now carried a determination that Asami recognized from Korra herself.

Asami watched her and the other demon generals leave, feeling a mix of gratitude and unease. She knew Kuvira’s loyalty to Korra was unshakeable, but her disdain for Asami was just as strong. For now, though, their shared goal to rescue Korra transcended personal vendettas. Asami steeled herself for the challenges ahead, determined to bring her wife back, no matter what it took.

—

A gust of wind later, Asami, Mako, and Kuvira found themselves in the Ba Sing Se catacombs. Mako indicated that this was the location of the incident. Before them lay a sacrificial stone slab, ominously empty. Korra was nowhere to be seen. Asami’s mind raced, conjuring endless possibilities, each more dire than the last. Where did they take Korra? Did they take her powers? Is she... dead?

No. Asami refused to believe it. She had faith in Korra. Her wife wouldn’t be defeated so easily. After all, she was the Demon Lord. Kuvira’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Kuvira muttered, almost to herself but loud enough for the others to hear, “She can’t just vanish. It’s impossible.”

The silence that followed was thick, each of them lost in their own thoughts until Mako’s voice cut through, firm and purposeful. “We can’t just stand here doing nothing. We need to look for clues.” He glanced at Asami, trying to offer some comfort with his words. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. We’ll find her, no matter what.”

Kuvira scoffed, the sound sharp in the heavy air. Without a word, she turned away, her movements brisk as she started to investigate the farther reaches of the cavern on her own.

Asami let out a sigh, her voice softer, tinged with gratitude and worry. “We will, Mako. Thank you.” She meant every word, even as her heart raced with fear for Korra. Mako simply nodded, his attention already on the stone slab, examining its surface for any sign of what transpired. Asami watched him for a moment, grateful for his unwavering resolve, before turning to her own search.

She moved slowly around the perimeter of the slab, her eyes scanning the ground meticulously. The catacombs were quiet, save for the sound of their movements and the occasional drip of water from the low ceiling. Asami’s hands brushed against the cool stone, feeling for irregularities, her fingers tracing the ancient carvings that adorned the walls. She was searching not just for physical clues but for a connection, a sign that Korra was still there, still fighting.

Asami’s mind raced with possibilities, each scenario darker than the last. Yet, amidst the fear and uncertainty, a spark of determination ignited within her. Korra had faced insurmountable odds before and emerged victorious. She clung to this thought like a lifeline, allowing it to guide her actions.

Suddenly, her hand brushed against something—a small, almost imperceptible indentation in the wall. She paused, examining the spot more closely. It wasn’t natural; it was too uniform, too deliberate. Her heart skipped a beat. Could this be a clue?

Kuvira was methodically checking the farther end of the cavern, her figure a silhouette against the dim light. Asami considered calling her over but decided against it. She needed a moment, a breath to collect her thoughts.

“Mako, Kuvira, come here,” she eventually called out, her voice echoing slightly. She pointed to the indentation. “This doesn’t seem like part of the original structure.”

As they gathered, Asami couldn’t help but notice the contrast in their expressions—Mako’s brows furrowed in concentration, Kuvira’s gaze sharp, analytical. It was a brief reminder of the diverse strengths they each brought to their search.

“We’re missing something,” Asami said, more to herself than to the others. Her gaze drifted from the slab to the indentation and then to the cavern’s shadows as if the answer might be lurking just beyond the reach of their torchlight. The sense of urgency was palpable, a silent force that propelled them forward.

Asami knew they were running out of time, but she also knew despair wouldn’t bring Korra back. Each clue, no matter how small, was a step closer to unraveling the mystery of her disappearance. And in that moment, despite the darkness that surrounded them, Asami felt a glimmer of hope. They were not yet defeated, and neither was Korra.

Kuvira’s hand lingered on the indentation, her eyes closed as if sensing beyond the physical—beyond what Asami’s heightened senses could afford her to sense. Asami and Mako exchanged a glance, an unspoken agreement to wait patiently. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each second stretching longer than the last.

Suddenly, Kuvira inhaled sharply, her eyes snapping open. “There’s a passageway here,” she announced, her voice laced with a mixture of surprise and certainty. With a decisive push against the indentation, the sound of stone grinding against stone reverberated through the catacombs.

As the dust settled, the wall before them shifted, revealing a door that had been hidden in plain sight. The air that flowed from the newly revealed passageway was cool and stale, carrying with it the promise of secrets long kept.

Mako stepped forward, peering into the darkness. “Well, that’s our way forward,” he said, his tone a mix of resolve and apprehension.

Asami felt a surge of hope, her heart racing with the prospect of finding Korra. “Let’s not waste any more time,” she urged, her determination clear in her voice. She took a deep breath, ready to face whatever lay beyond the door. “Korra is waiting for us.”

Kuvira nodded, a rare show of agreement from the usually stoic woman. “Stay alert,” she cautioned, her gaze piercing the shadows as she took the lead into the passageway.

The trio moved cautiously, the light from their torches casting long shadows against the walls of the narrow corridor. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the distant echo of their own breathing.

Asami’s mind raced with thoughts of Korra, each step forward fueled by her love and the unshakeable belief that they would be reunited. The darkness seemed to press in from all sides, but the light from their torches carved a path through the shadows, a beacon of hope in the suffocating gloom.

“Korra, we’re coming,” Asami whispered under her breath, her voice a mix of promise and prayer.

—

They had been walking for what seemed like a lifetime, the damp walls and eerie green torches of the passageway seeming to mock them with each hour that passed. Asami was tired—exhausted, even—but she willed herself not to stop, placing one foot in front of the other with a determination that strained every muscle in her body. Mako, noticing her faltering steps, cast a concerned glance her way. He slowed, aligning his pace with hers, and offered, “Maybe you should let me carry you for a while, or we could all take a short break?”

Kuvira’s response was immediate and fierce, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face them, her stance rigid with impatience. “I will leave you two if you slow me down,” she growled, the threat hanging in the air like a blade.

That comment sparked a fire in Mako. He stepped forward, his jaw clenched and eyes flashing with defiance, ready to defend Asami’s honor. “She’s not just anyone, Kuvira; she’s the Demon Queen,” he retorted, his body tense as if bracing for a confrontation.

“A weak one,” Kuvira said, but her eyes conveyed more than contempt. “You know we follow strength, Mako.”

The demon was about to retaliate, but Asami placed a weary hand on Mako’s arm, her touch gentle but firm, signaling him to ease his stance. “No, Mako. She’s right,” she admitted, her voice tinged with reluctance. Despite the ache in her limbs, she knew their mission couldn’t afford delays. Swallowing her pride, she nodded at Mako, her eyes locking with his in silent gratitude. “We’d get nowhere if we continue at this pace.”

Standing with an effort that seemed to draw on her last reserves of strength, she accepted Mako’s outstretched hand. His fingers closed around hers with a gentleness that belied his strength, offering her not just physical support but a reassurance that they were in this together.

Once securely positioned on Mako’s back, her arms draped around his neck and her head resting lightly against his shoulder, they shared a brief look—a silent exchange of trust and mutual respect. Kuvira, for her part, watched them for a moment, her expression softening ever so slightly, before she turned away, leading the charge with renewed purpose.

The two full-blooded demons then tapped into their supernatural speed, a blur against the dimly lit passageway, racing against time.

—

As they emerged into the dimly lit expanse of the abandoned hangar, Asami’s astonishment was palpable. The vast, empty space, with its echoes of long-forgotten aircraft and the shadowy outlines of machinery, was not what she had expected at the end of their arduous journey. “What is this place?” she murmured to herself, her gaze sweeping over the cavernous room, searching for any sign that might explain their location or Korra’s whereabouts.

“Let’s look for clues, and—” Asami started, turning to Mako and Kuvira, but the sudden, jarring ring of her phone cut her off. Confusion registered on her face as she fished the device from her pocket, and stared in shock at who was calling her. “Opal?”

“Asami, oh thank God! Where are you? I’ve been trying to contact you for hours!!” Opal’s voice was a mix of relief and urgency, cutting straight to the chase.

“I don’t know, Op. Somewhere in the Earth Kingdom. Why?” Asami’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing as she tried to gauge the reason for Opal’s panic.

“Asami, you’ve got to watch the news! NOW!” Opal’s insistence was palpable, and without another word, she hung up.

Puzzled, Asami ended the call and quickly accessed the news channel on her phone, the bright screen illuminating her face in the shadowy hangar. The headlines blazed across the top of the feed, but it was the blurry photo that captured her attention. Her heart skipped a beat, then hammered against her ribs. There, amidst the chaos captured in the image, was a figure she knew better than anyone—Korra.

And she was raising hell in the Fire Nation Capital.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Korra.

The photo showed her wife in the midst of what appeared to be a tumultuous scene, with plumes of smoke and flickers of fire framing her unmistakable silhouette. “Fire Nation Capital in Flames,” the headline declared, leaving no room for doubt.

Asami’s grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles whitening. She felt a surge of emotions—fear, confusion, but above all, an urgent need to understand what was happening and why Korra was at the center of it.

Mako and Kuvira crowded around her, peering over her shoulder at the screen. The air was thick with tension, each of them processing the shocking revelation in silence.

Finally, Asami spoke, “We need to get to the Fire Nation. Now.” She turned to Mako, desperation clear in her voice. “Can you get us there?”

Mako hesitated, the conflict evident in his expression. “I...” He swallowed hard. “I can’t transport three bodies that far, Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”

“Useless demon!” Kuvira’s growl cut through the tense air.

Asami felt as if the ground was giving way beneath her. She needed to reach Korra, and every second counted. Think, Sato, she urged herself. An idea sparked. “Mako, can you get us to Future Industries, then?”

Mako’s eyes met hers, a glimmer of hope surfacing. “Y-yes, Your Majesty!” he responded with renewed determination.

As soon as they manifested at Future Industries hangar, Asami’s authority filled the place. “Prepare the fastest airship immediately. We’re heading to the Fire Nation,” she commanded, her voice cutting through the noise of the bustling hangar like a knife. Her employees, sensing the urgency in her tone, scrambled to follow her orders, their movements quick and purposeful under her commanding gaze.

However, amidst the flurry of activity, one employee approached her, hesitance in his step. “Ms. Sato,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, betraying his nervousness. “The borders of the Fire Nation are closed. No one is allowed in or out.”

Asami turned to him sharply, her eyes piercing him with an intensity that made him shrink back slightly. “I don’t care,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “We will get there, whatever it takes.” Hell forbid anyone stops me from getting to my wife.

The employee, whose name Asami thought was Li, swallowed hard, the fear evident in his wide eyes and the slight tremble of his hands. Yet, he nodded, understanding the depth of her determination. “Yes, Ms. Sato,” he managed to say, his voice steadier than he felt.

Asami’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, ensuring her message was clear, before she turned back to oversee the preparations.

After what felt like an eternity, the airship was finally ready, and they departed without delay, the engines roaring to life, underscoring the urgency of their mission.

Once in the air, Asami found herself pacing in her cabin, a bundle of nervous energy. Despite the open door providing a view of the corridor, it was Kuvira passing her room that seemed to amplify the tension within her. Eventually, driven by a need to address the unspoken challenge between them, Asami followed Kuvira onto the deck of the airship, her resolve steeling with each step.

Asami approached Kuvira, her posture stiff, every line of her body broadcasting her intent to confront whatever lay between them. Kuvira turned, about to speak, but Asami cut her off, her voice firm despite the turmoil within. “I know you don’t like me, but when we see Korra again, I hope you’ll not show your disdain toward me.”

Kuvira’s response was a deadly smirk, her body leaning slightly forward, an implicit challenge in her stance. “So, she could see how weak you are? How she made the mistake of choosing you to be by her side?” Her words were like a blade, each one aimed with precision.

Asami felt a chill at Kuvira’s insinuation, her body tensing as if preparing for a physical blow. But then, anger surged through her, heating her blood to boiling. She straightened, her jaw set, eyes blazing with a fire that could rival any full demon’s fury. “No. So, she’ll see that we are united for her sake. But sure. If that’s what you think.” Her voice was ice, her stance unyielding, a clear signal that she would not be intimidated or belittled.

For a moment, they stood facing each other on the deck, the airship cutting through the clouds, the tension between them almost tangible. Asami’s fists were clenched at her sides, her entire body rigid with suppressed emotion. Kuvira remained smug as if challenging the Demon Queen’s authority.

Without another word, Asami turned and walked away, her steps firm on the metal deck, leaving Kuvira behind to ponder her words. The confrontation had laid bare the fractures between them, yet Asami’s resolve was clear: unity for Korra’s sake was paramount, and she would brook no dissent that threatened it.

—

Asami was jerked awake by a sudden lurch of the airship, the movement abrupt and unsettling. Before she could even process the motion, alarms began to blare throughout the vessel, their loud, piercing sounds slicing through the silence of the night. Panic knotted in her stomach as she threw off the covers, her heart racing with a mix of fear and adrenaline.

Without hesitation, she bolted from her bed, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted towards the co*ckpit. The corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly, the blaring alarms amplifying her sense of urgency. Asami’s mind raced with possibilities, each more dire than the last, her only focus was to understand the threat and confront it head-on.

Bursting into the co*ckpit, Asami found the pilot battling with the controls, his body tense and movements frantic as he attempted to navigate the airship through unseen dangers. The co*ckpit was a flurry of activity, with every screen flashing warnings and the sound of the alarms even more deafening within the confined space.

“What happened?” Asami demanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. She planted herself firmly behind the pilot, her stance wide as she braced against the motion of the airship, ready to lend her support in any way she could.

“Ms. Sato, we’re entering Fire Nation airspace, but our radars caught anti-aircraft artillery on the ground,” he called out over the din of alarms and the distant thuds of explosions. “But it seemed that they were firing at a different airship. I sounded the alarm to let everyone know that we’re turning around.”

“Shang, bring up the satellite images,” she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension in the co*ckpit. The co-pilot, Shang, quickly obliged, pulling up recent scans of the area on the screen in front of them.

Asami leaned over the map display, her eyes scanning the terrain for their clandestine landing spot. There it was, just behind a volcano, offering them the cover they needed to avoid detection. It was a gamble, but the alternative—flying directly into an anti-air barrage—was unequivocally worse.

“Li, head for this location,” Asami pointed at the screen, her finger tapping on the secluded area behind the volcanic ridge. “It’s our best shot at getting in undetected.”

Li nodded once, sharply. Without a word, he adjusted their course, steering the airship towards the volcano. As they veered off, the once imminent threat of being targeted from the ground diminished. The airship, now a silent shadow against the dark sky, slipped unnoticed behind the natural barrier of the volcano.

The co*ckpit was a tight coil of focus and silent anticipation as they made their approach. The looming silhouette of the volcano grew larger, its form a stark contrast against the backdrop of the night sky. The engines hummed a low, steady note as Lee expertly navigated the air currents, guiding them into the shadow of the volcano.

As the volcanic ridge shielded them from view, the tension in the co*ckpit eased ever so slightly. They were out of sight, the immediate threat of discovery and attack momentarily abated. But the gravity of their unauthorized entry into the Fire Nation airspace hung heavily in the air. They were in enemy territory now, operating on the slim hope that the chaos of recent political upheavals would provide just enough distraction to allow them to find Korra and get out undetected.

The airship settled into a gentle descent, aiming for the pre-selected landing site nestled securely out of the enemy’s line of sight. Asami stood by, watching the landscape draw closer, her thoughts fixed on Korra.

“Li, Shang, you’re both in charge of the airship while we’re gone,” Asami commanded her pilots as soon as they landed. Li hesitated, but a stern look from Asami had him quickly acquiescing. “Yes, Ms. Sato,” he responded, saluting. He then relayed her commands to everyone on board. The Demon Queen next addressed her demon companions. “Mako, transport us inside the palace.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

A few days ago, they had intercepted news of a successful coup in the Fire Nation. The reports detailed how a member of the old monarchy had seized a “weapon of mass destruction” and used it against the reigning monarch. The former Fire Lord had no choice but to surrender to prevent further damage and casualties. Now, the new Fire Lord’s rise to power had thrown the country into a state of heightened alert.

Originally, Asami, Mako, and Kuvira intended to enter under the guise of diplomats, seeking to forge an alliance with the current Fire Lord. However, with the new monarch not open to negotiations, they were forced to quickly devise a different strategy. They would now quietly infiltrate the palace, utilizing Mako’s borrowed transportation powers to gain entry.

This was it—the first step into a maelstrom of danger, all for the sake of finding and bringing her wife back home.

—

Asami, Mako, and Kuvira found themselves navigating the opulent hallways of the royal palace. The corridors were adorned with intricate gold leaf designs that glimmered softly under the light of crystal chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. Statues of previous Fire Lords stood sentinel along the passage, their expressions solemn, overseeing the legacy of their lineage. Despite the external chaos that had engulfed the nation, a serene tranquility pervaded the palace interiors. The air was filled with a subtle scent of jasmine, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing outside its walls.

Asami’s heart raced as they moved silently, her senses on high alert. She clung to the hope that being closer to Korra would somehow reignite their connection. She reached out with her limited powers, attempting to feel Korra’s presence, to hear her voice amidst the cacophony of the palace’s noise. Yet, all she could discern was the distant sound of chatter and laughter from the staff, echoes of normalcy that felt surreal given the circ*mstances. Where are you, love? she thought desperately, trying to quell the panic that threatened to rise within her.

Their silent journey through the palace brought them unexpectedly to the throne room. The vast space was breathtaking, with towering ceilings and walls adorned with majestic tapestries depicting the Fire Nation’s storied history. The grandeur of the room was designed to awe, and it did not fail. But their attention was abruptly captured by a sudden blaze that erupted to their left. The throne itself seemed to have caught fire, drawing their gaze instantly.

Seated upon the throne, amidst the dancing flames, was the new Fire Lord, her gaze imperious and unyielding. Yet, it wasn’t her that stole Asami’s breath away; it was the figure beside her. There, cloaked in an aura of malevolence, was Korra—the Demon Lord herself. But this was not the Korra that Asami remembered. Gone was the warmth that had once imbued her presence; in its place stood a figure of chilling detachment. Her once vibrant blue eyes were now abyssal black, void of any light or recognition, filled instead with an unfathomable hatred.

Korra’s demeanor was as cold and unmoving as the stone that lined the palace walls, her stance rigid and imposing beside the Fire Lord. The air around her seemed to thicken with the weight of her transformation, casting a shadow over the room that was felt by all who beheld her.

Asami’s heart sank as she faced this unrecognizable version of her wife, the rising panic within her crystallizing into a sharp, cold dread. The connection they once shared—a bond that had felt unbreakable—now seemed lost in the abyss reflected in Korra’s eyes. Asami struggled to comprehend the sight before her, the realization dawning that the journey to reunite with Korra might be far more perilous and heart-wrenching than she had ever imagined.

Before Asami could utter a single word to her transformed wife, the new Fire Lord stopped her with a chilling welcome. “Welcome to the Fire Nation, demons.”

The trio was taken aback, their shock palpable in the heavy air of the throne room. Kuvira, ever the warrior, was quick to respond, her voice a menacing growl. “Who are you, and how did you know us?”

The Fire Lord’s laughter echoed through the grand space, a sound devoid of warmth, filled instead with a manic glee. “Why, I’m the new Fire Lord, of course. Izumi. Fire Lord Izumi.” Her eyes sparkled with an unsettling delight as she surveyed her unexpected guests.

Kuvira opened her mouth to retort, but Asami, driven by desperation, cut her off. Turning her attention fully towards Korra, she called out, “Korra! It’s me, Asami.” Her voice, laden with emotion, sought to bridge the chasm that had opened between them, to rekindle the spark of recognition, of love.

But the response was a suffocating silence. Korra remained unmoved, her black eyes void of any recognition or warmth, staring into a distance only she could see. The absence of a reply was a tangible blow, the silence reverberating louder than any words could.

“It’s no use, Demon Queen.” Asami’s eyes widened in shock. How did she know? As if sensing her confusion, Fire Lord Izumi rose from her throne, her movement fluid and graceful as she approached Korra. With a touch that carried an unsettling mix of possession and lust, Izumi ran her fingers along Korra’s arm, leaning close as if to whisper a secret, yet her eyes remained locked on Asami, a taunting smirk playing on her lips.

“You see,” Izumi began, her voice laced with a chilling amusem*nt, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Asami’s heart raced, her mind reeling from the implications. How much did Izumi know about their plans? And what had she done to Korra?

“Korra,” Asami tried once more, desperation edging into her voice, hoping to reach whatever remained of the woman she loved. “Please, talk to me.” But Korra remained silent, her expression unchanging and distant as if Asami and her plea were nothing but whispers in a storm.

Izumi chuckled softly, turning to face Asami directly. “Oh, she can’t hear you. Not anymore. The Korra you knew is gone. She’s mine now, body and soul. A weapon for the Fire Nation.”

The declaration was a blow, staggering in its cruelty. Asami felt a mix of anger and despair, the reality of Korra’s condition slicing through her hope like a knife. How could they have done this to her? To the vibrant, fiercely loving Demon Lord who had once defied realms for the sake of change and justice?

“We won’t let you get away with this,” Kuvira growled, stepping forward, her fists clenched in defiance.

But then, she saw another figure from the shadows of the throne room walk toward them. It sent a jolt of recognition through Asami. It was him—the leader of the cult that had kidnapped and almost sacrificed her thirteen years ago.

“You!” Asami snarled, her voice laced with venom.

“Hello, Ms. Sato. We meet again,” he answered with maniacal glee. The smug satisfaction in his voice was palpable. “From the look on your face, I’d guess you thought you’d never see me again. Well, here I am. The greatest mistake you’ve ever made. You should’ve let your demon lord kill me back then.”

“Why? We spared your life! Why are you doing this?” Asami’s confusion and anger were mounting, her fists clenching at her sides.

“Why, for power, of course,” he declared with unabashed greed. “I gave Fire Lord Izumi the Demon Lord, and now I’m her advisor.”

Asami felt her anger boiling over at using Korra like that. “Give Korra back! You’re now at the top of the world; you don’t need her anymore!”

Both Izumi and the cult leader laughed, their amusem*nt at Asami’s demand evident. “Tsk tsk,” Izumi clicked her tongue. “Why would we give her up? With her on our side, other nations are powerless against us. So give up.”

“Powerless.” That word echoed in Asami’s mind, mirroring how she felt in this moment. But she refused to let despair take hold. She would let the world burn before giving up on Korra. But her boiling blood suddenly turned into ice at the Fire Lord’s next words.

“And besides,” Izumi added, her voice thick with lust as she continued to caress Korra, who remained disturbingly passive, “Korra’s a wonderful lover, isn’t she?”

“No! Tell me you didn’t–”

Mako suddenly touched her arm, drawing her attention. She turned to him and noticed he was pointing at something concealed within the cult leader’s robe—a glint of metal. “I see the dagger.”

Asami was confused, her mind and heart getting whiplash at the flurry of information thrown at her. “What dagger?”

“The wavy one I saw just before Korra pushed me into the portal,” Mako explained, urgency in his voice.

“And you only informed us now?” Kuvira berated, her gaze sharp on Mako.

“I didn’t think it was important!”

“Why you useless demon. I’ll-”

“Stop it, both of you!” Despite the tension, Asami’s mind raced. If that dagger was as crucial as Mako suggested, it might be the key to unraveling the situation. Her resolve hardened; no matter the odds, she was determined to save Korra and rectify the wrongs of the past, even if it meant facing down a Fire Lord and a cult leader who had ensnared her wife in their twisted web of power and deceit.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

“What is that dagger?” Asami questioned the demons.

Mako shook his head, his expression one of frustration. “I don’t know. I only caught a glimpse of it when Korra pushed me into the portal.”

“Korra should’ve taken me with her if you’re this useless!” Kuvira snapped, her patience thinning.

Asami, however, had reached her limit with Kuvira’s attitude. “Kuvira, enough!” she retorted sharply. “You’ve been nothing but antagonistic throughout this mission, and it stops now. We need to focus on saving Korra. Address your grievances after we’ve brought her back.”

Kuvira trembled with barely contained anger, but she remained silent, redirecting her focus to Korra and the Fire Lord instead of responding.

Seeing the shift in Kuvira’s demeanor, Asami felt a momentary satisfaction. It was time to strategize, to concoct a plan that would allow them to seize the dagger and turn the tide in their favor.

Asami set her jaw, determination etching her features as she took command of the situation. “We need to get that dagger,” she declared, her gaze sweeping from Mako to Kuvira, assessing their readiness.

Mako nodded, a grim resolve in his eyes. “Yes, we should.”

Kuvira, her usual defiance momentarily set aside for the sake of the mission, chimed in, “Mako and I will try to grab that dagger.” Her stance, rigid and poised for action, betrayed her readiness to leap into the fray at a moment’s notice.

Asami understood the logic behind the plan, yet the thought of standing by while others fought for Korra’s freedom gnawed at her. “Okay. I’ll distract Korra once she makes her move. I bet she’s going to protect them,” Asami said, her voice steady but her hands betraying her anxiety with a slight tremble.

“Okay,” both demons agreed.

Asami watched them, her heart pounding. The plan was simple yet fraught with danger. She knew the moment they acted, all pretense of diplomacy would evaporate, leaving them exposed to the whims of their enemies. Her eyes flitted to Korra, the woman she loved, now a stranger twisted by dark influences. The sight tightened a knot in her chest, a mix of pain and unwavering resolve.

Mako shifted his weight, the muscles in his arms tensing as he prepared for the quick, decisive movement needed to snatch the dagger. His eyes, usually warm, were now hard with the focus of a warrior.

Kuvira, ever the soldier, exuded a cold confidence, her every movement calculated and sharp. There was no hesitation in her, only the drive to achieve their objective, whatever the cost.

Asami took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart. Her mind raced through scenarios, each pathway branching into a myriad of outcomes. She knew the risks, understood the peril they all faced, but the thought of rescuing Korra, of bringing her back from this abyss, overshadowed all fear. She would do whatever it took, bear any burden, face any foe. For Korra, she would brave the very flames of the Fire Nation itself.

Their silent agreement hung in the air, a pact sealed by the gravity of their mission. Asami’s gaze lingered on her companions, finding in their shared resolve a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. With a final nod, they braced themselves, ready to leap into the unknown, their fates intertwined in the battle for Korra’s soul.

“Go!” Asami’s command cut through the tension like a blade. In an instant, Mako and Kuvira utilized their demonic speed, flashing toward the cult leader with a precision born of countless battles. Mako’s hand stretched out, fingers inches from the coveted dagger, when Korra intercepted them with a speed that defied belief.

Kuvira and Mako, their reflexes honed through years of combat, leaped backward, narrowly avoiding Korra’s lethal downward swipe. The air where they had stood moments before crackled with the force of her attack.

“Korra!” Asami’s voice, filled with desperation and hope, pierced the chaos. The Demon Lord halted, her unnaturally black eyes locking onto Asami. She began moving towards her, each step deliberate, exuding an aura of menace that chilled the air.

That’s it, come to me, Asami thought, trying to lure her away, to give Mako and Kuvira a chance at the dagger. But Korra closed the distance in a heartbeat, towering over Asami with an intensity that was both foreign and terrifying. Asami rolled away just as flames erupted from Korra’s mouth, scorching the ground where she had been.

The battle raged on, a maelstrom of elements and demonic speed. Mako and Kuvira darted and weaved, their every attempt to seize the dagger thwarted by Korra’s relentless defense. She was everywhere at once, a tempest of fire, ice, and earth, her attacks leaving trails of destruction in their wake.

The trio regrouped, panting, their bodies bearing the marks of the fierce struggle. Cuts, bruises, and burns mapped their skin, a testament to the ferocity of their opponent.

“This isn’t working,” Kuvira growled, frustration etching her features. She was a warrior unused to being on the defensive, her spirit chafing against the relentless assault. She turned to Asami, determination flaring in her eyes. “You! You and Mako get the dagger. I’ll fight Korra...without someone holding me back.”

That hit a nerve in Asami’s already bruised insecurity, but she understood the gravity of the task. The plan was fraught with risk, but it was their only chance. She nodded, her resolve hardening. Mako met her gaze, a silent vow passing between them. They would not fail.

Kuvira stepped forward, drawing Korra’s attention. The Demon Lord turned to face her new challenger, the air around them crackling with the promise of a battle that would test the limits of their strength and will.

After seizing their moment of opportunity, Asami and Mako launched into action, their movements synchronized in a ballet of determination and desperation. Mako darted forward, his focus razor-sharp on the cult leader, who stood between them and their objective. The cult leader, anticipating the attack, met Mako with a barrage of dark energy that forced Mako to deflect and weave through the onslaught with the agility of a seasoned fighter.

In the forefront of the conflict, Asami squared off against Izumi. The Fire Lord’s stance was confident, her eyes alight with the thrill of the challenge. They circled each other, the tension between them crackling like the flames that surrounded them.

Asami lunged first, her attack a series of precise strikes aimed at finding a weakness in Izumi’s defense. Izumi countered effortlessly, her movements fluid and devastatingly effective. So, she’s good at fighting, too. I shouldn’t have underestimated her, Asami thought, narrowly avoiding a counterstrike that would have ended the fight prematurely.

Izumi laughed, a sound that seemed to fill the room. “You think you can best me?” she taunted, her eyes glinting with malice. “Korra and I are a better pair than you could ever hope to be. Maybe after this, I will wed the Demon Lord.”

The taunt hit its mark, and Asami felt anger surge within her. “Not if I had anything to say about it!” She attacked with renewed ferocity, her movements becoming more reckless in her attempt to land a blow on the smirking Fire Lord. But with each attack, Izumi’s counters became more punishing, forcing Asami to realize that her anger was playing right into the Fire Lord’s hands.

Taking a step back, Asami caught her breath, her mind racing. She needed a new strategy—one that didn’t involve playing into Izumi’s provocations. “I won’t win like this,” she admitted to herself, the realization calming her frayed nerves. With a newfound focus, Asami adopted a more defensive stance, waiting for Izumi to make the next move.

Their fight resumed, this time with Asami dictating the pace. She deflected and dodged, conserving her energy and looking for an opening. Izumi, growing increasingly frustrated with Asami’s defensive tactics, overextended on an attack, giving Asami the opening she needed.

Meanwhile, Mako continued his dance of fire and evasion with the cult leader, their battle a testament to the chaos that had engulfed the throne room. Every so often, Asami’s eyes flickered to Mako, ensuring he was still standing, still fighting.

The room was filled with the sounds of combat—grunts of exertion, the sharp crackle of fire, and the heavy breaths of fighters pushed to their limits. Asami could feel the heat of the battle, not just from the fire but from the burning need to succeed, to save Korra and put an end to this madness.

As the fight wore on, Asami realized that this was more than a battle of strength; it was a test of wills. She couldn’t afford to lose—not to Izumi, not to the cult leader, and certainly not to the darkness that threatened to consume the one she loved most. With every strike, every block, and every maneuver, Asami fought not just for victory, but for a future where Korra was free from the shadows that now held her captive.

***

Kuvira panted, exhaustion seeping into her bones as she wiped a trail of blood running down her face. Now this… this was the Korra she had been waiting for, for a long time. A Demon Lord who didn’t hold back, a Korra who went all out in fighting. Her body thrummed with pleasure at the challenge. She smirked. “So, you’re capable of being like this, huh?” But Korra just stared at her, unblinking and impassive.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this? Since the start. Ever since you took down Unalaq. I saw the power you held, it was limitless. But after we established the new order in the Demon World, and especially after marrying that woman, you became soft.” She spat the blood from her mouth with disdain. “Where were you all this time?!” she demanded, her voice laced with accusation and betrayal as she turned to attack again.

Korra met Kuvira’s charge head-on, the clash of their powers echoing through the throne room. Kuvira, fueled by a mix of admiration and betrayal, matched Korra’s ferocity with her own. She dodged blasts of fire, sidestepped whirlwinds, and countered each of Korra’s elemental assaults with the precision of a seasoned warrior. Yet, for every hit she evaded, Korra’s relentless onslaught pushed her further to her limits.

“You know I’ve admired you, respected you, and been loyal to you! Show me the same respect!” Kuvira shouted, her voice a mix of anger and desperation. She hoped to ignite a spark of recognition, to remind Korra of the bond they once shared, of the loyalty that had defined their past.

But Korra’s response was a cold silence, her expression unreadable. In a blur of motion, she was suddenly in front of Kuvira, her hand gripping Kuvira’s throat with an inhuman strength. Lifted off the ground, Kuvira gasped for air, her feet dangling helplessly. The pressure of Korra’s grip threatened to crush her windpipe, and for a moment, all Kuvira could see was the dark void in Korra’s eyes.

In her desperation, Kuvira’s gaze inadvertently shifted to her right. Korra’s gaze followed, and what they saw momentarily distracted the Demon Lord. Asami and Mako were turning the tide of their own battles, their determination and resilience shining through even in the face of overwhelming odds.

“I’m here! I’m your enemy!” Kuvira rasped, snapping her head back to lock eyes with Korra, trying to draw her focus back. It was futile. Korra released her grip, and Kuvira crumpled to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

With a predatory swiftness, Korra turned her attention towards Asami and Mako, her nails elongating into lethal claws. Just as she lunged, a powerful gust of wind manifested out of nowhere, halting her attack mid-air.

Gasps filled the room, a collective shock at the sudden intervention. There, standing between Korra and her intended targets, was a figure none had expected — a being radiating a divine presence, his hand gripping Korra’s outstretched arm with ease. The god himself had intervened, a twist that none present could have anticipated.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Asami steeled herself, her focus narrowing as she almost had Izumi backed into a corner, ready to deliver the decisive blow. But in a blur of motion, Korra was suddenly charging towards her, muscular arms outstretched, aiming to impale her.

Crossing her arms in front of her, the Demon Queen braced herself for the impending pain, but it never arrived. Instead, a powerful gust of wind enveloped her, extinguishing the flames that raged throughout the palace. “What– Tenzin?” she gasped, disbelief coloring her tone. Before her, stood the god of the Higher Realm, his grip firm around Korra’s wrist.

“Hello, Miss Sato,” Tenzin greeted, his voice tinged with effort as he restrained Korra. “I believe I owe you an apology for our first encounter. It was unbecoming of me to use your mother as bait.” As he spoke, Korra wrenched her hand free, leaping back with a grace that belied her earlier aggression, her expression stoically masking any surprise.

“Tenzin, what is happening?” Asami’s confusion was palpable, her stance still defensive as she sought to understand the sudden intervention and the implications of Tenzin’s presence.

Before Tenzin could offer any further explanation, Izumi’s enraged scream pierced the tumult of the palace. “Jhang! Give me the dagger and take care of him!”

Jhang, the cult leader, sprang into action, his movements swift and determined. However, he found his path blocked by Mako. “Oh, no you won’t!” Mako declared, his stance ready and eyes ablaze with resolve. The air crackled as they exchanged a flurry of blows, each fighter displaying a mastery of their abilities.

Meanwhile, Korra, ever the formidable opponent, launched another assault. Tenzin, with the grace and power befitting his divine status, quickly parried her strikes, even as he attempted to elucidate the complex history at play. “Ten thousand years ago, when the Realms were first conceived, humans believed they could control us, especially the demons, to do their bidding.” Asami remembered Korra explaining the uneasy history between humans and demons. “And so, some of them made pacts with lesser demons vying for supremacy. They created that dagger. It’s a binding dagger, able to bind the most powerful demons to the person whose blood was used for the spell.”

“What?” Asami gasped, the revelation hitting her like a physical blow. “What should we do?”

“We need to break the dagger,” Tenzin responded, his voice carrying the weight of centuries.

Asami’s gaze flickered between the cult leader, Jhang, and Izumi, her resolve hardening. She knew what she had to do. “I’m on it,” she stated, her voice tinged with the steel of her determination. Asami was prepared to go to any lengths to rescue Korra, to sever the binds that held her and restore her freedom.

“Thank you, Miss Sato. Do not think about me. Just focus on your task,” Tenzin urged, his attention divided between restraining Korra and ensuring Asami understood the gravity of her mission.

“You don’t need to tell me. I’m getting that dagger in one way or another.” Asami turned her focus to the immediate challenge before her. The dagger, the key to Korra’s enslavement and the instrument of her torment, had to be destroyed. Every muscle in her body tensed, ready for the confrontation that would decide their fate. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, but the thought of saving Korra, of breaking the chains that bound her, fueled Asami’s courage. She was ready to face whatever lay ahead, armed with her love, her resolve, and the unwavering determination to bring Korra back to her.

Asami turned her focus back to the Fire Lord, locking eyes with Izumi once more. This time, however, the Fire Lord’s demeanor had shifted; panic flickered across her face, betraying a moment of vulnerability. Asami seized the opportunity, and charged. She caught Izumi unprepared, making her stumble backward, her usual poise crumbling under Asami’s relentless assault.

Their fight resumed with renewed intensity, Asami driving Izumi back with a flurry of precise strikes. Each movement Asami made was calculated, aimed at exploiting Izumi’s sudden uncertainty. The Fire Lord, for her part, struggled to regain her composure, her grunts and sharp exhales marking the effort it took to parry and counterattack. The clash of their wills echoed in the sharp sounds of their confrontation, a dance of attack and defense that left little room for error.

In the background, the palace thrummed with the sounds of ongoing battles. Tenzin and Korra’s fight was a maelstrom of power, their forms blurred in a display of divine and demonic strength. Mako and Jhang’s duel, equally fierce, was a testament to the desperation and determination that fueled both sides.

Amidst the chaos, a metallic clang rang out, cutting through the din of combat. The dagger had fallen. It’s now or never, Asami thought, her eyes snapping to the location of the sound. With a burst of speed, she lunged toward the fallen weapon, her entire being focused on claiming the key to Korra’s freedom.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Just as her fingers grazed the cold metal, Izumi’s hand snatched it away. “Demon Lord! I command you!! Transform to your truest, most powerful form and protect your master!” Izumi’s voice, laced with desperation, filled the room.

Asami’s heart stopped as she turned to witness the unthinkable. Korra, her Korra, halted in her tracks, her black eyes suddenly ablaze with an otherworldly glow. The transformation that ensued was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. Korra’s form expanded, growing larger as horns twisted out from her forehead, a chilling silhouette against the battle’s backdrop. Spikes erupted along her back, and a tail, sinuous and powerful, formed behind her. The Demon Lord’s true form was revealed, a sight of raw power and dark beauty that held Asami captive, even as fear clenched her heart.

“Get down!”

Mako’s warning sliced through the chaos, but it was too late. A powerful gust from Korra’s palm, hit Asami with the force of a tempest, slamming her against the wall. The impact forced a sharp “Agh!” from her as she crumpled to the ground, pain radiating through her.

Struggling against the pain, Asami’s gaze swept the room, taking in the desperate struggle of Kuvira, Mako, and Tenzin against overwhelming odds. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Izumi and Jhang attempting to make their escape, the dagger in Izumi’s hand glinting ominously.

Determination surged within her. Despite the stabbing pain in her ribs, Asami knew she had to act. She couldn’t overpower them directly, but she didn’t have to. As Asami’s eyes darted around the room, searching for any advantage, she noticed a puddle of water on the floor near Izumi and Jhang, a remnant of one of Korra’s powerful water attacks. Her gaze then shifted to the chandelier overhead, its electrical wiring exposed and sparking dangerously. An idea sparked in her mind, a plan forming with the clarity that desperation and necessity often provide.

Ignoring the stabbing pain in her ribs, Asami stealthily made her way toward the wall where the damaged wiring protruded. Her hands moved with practiced ease, her years of experience in engineering and mechanics coming to the forefront as she quickly and quietly tinkered with the wiring, preparing to create a makeshift trap.

But for her plan to work, she needed an extra push—a literal one. She caught Mako’s eye across the room, signaling him with a sharp, urgent gesture. “Mako, the chandelier!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of the battle.

Understanding flashed in Mako’s eyes. With a swift motion, he accurately threw debris at the chandelier, severing the weakened chain that held it aloft. The chandelier crashed to the ground, its impact causing the exposed electrical wiring to connect with the puddle of water.

The effect was instantaneous. Electricity coursed through the water, catching Izumi and Jhang in its path. The shock was enough to stagger them, breaking their concentration and leaving them vulnerable for precious seconds.

Wasting no time, Asami sprinted towards the fallen dagger. Izumi, still reeling from the shock, could only watch as Asami snatched the dagger from the floor, its metal cold and solid in her grip. She rolled away just as Izumi and Jhang regained their bearings, putting distance between them.

Breathing heavily, Asami clutched the dagger tightly, a sense of triumph mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through her veins. She had turned the tide. Now, with the binding dagger in her possession, she needed to know what to do.

“Human! Command Korra now!” Kuvira’s voice echoed throughout the palace walls, making Asami realize the truth in her words.

Turning around, Asami held the dagger in front of her. The weapon’s edges were adorned with intricate black patterns, and Korra’s name was inscribed elegantly in the center. However, there was no time to admire its craftsmanship; Korra needed her. With a determined exhale, Asami found her voice, its volume echoing with authority. “Demon Lord! I command you to stop!”

And astonishingly, everything did.

The chaos of the battle, the ambient noise, even the very essence of movement within the palace seemed to freeze. Time itself held its breath. Asami felt a fleeting wave of relief wash over her. This was her chance to free Korra, to end the nightmare that had ensnared them both.

But the moment was fleeting. Korra began advancing towards her, each step deliberate and menacing. “S-stop! Korra!” Asami pleaded, but her words failed to halt Korra’s approach. Mako, Kuvira, and Tenzin launched themselves back into the fray, their attacks aimed at diverting Korra’s attention, but she deflected them with an effortless grace that belied her monstrous form.

Izumi’s laughter, cruel and mocking, rang out behind Asami. “It’s no use. She’s bound to me,” the Fire Lord taunted, her voice dripping with malice.

“Shut up!” Asami’s shout was a mix of anger and despair. What could she do? Would breaking the dagger free Korra, or would it indeed worsen their already dire situation? Doubt and fear tangled within her, paralyzing her thoughts.

So caught up in her turmoil, Asami failed to notice her allies faltering, one by one, until silence enveloped the room. She looked up to find Korra standing right in front of her, arm raised for the final strike. Despondency washed over Asami, and she let her arms fall to her sides, resignation setting in. If her end was to come, let it be by Korra’s hand. At least there would be a tragic poetry to it. And maybe, when she became a true-blooded demon, she might be powerful enough to help.

She braced herself for the end, but the expected blow never came. Instead, there was hesitation, a tremble. Asami dared to open her eyes, and what she saw kindled a spark of hope within her. Korra’s arm was raised, but it shook violently, struggling to fight her own arm. “A...sa...mi…” The name was barely a whisper, strained and filled with an agony that pierced Asami’s heart.

“Korra!” Asami gasped, her voice a mix of relief and renewed determination. Korra was still there, fighting from within. The realization filled Asami with a profound hope.

“R...un. Please. Save…yourself.” The plea was a testament to Korra’s lingering consciousness, her desire to protect Asami even in this dire state.

“No! I won’t. I’m with you, Korra. I promised, didn’t I?” Asami declared firmly, her resolve unbreakable.

Korra’s eyes turned blank again, a chilling void that Asami could barely stand to witness. She rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the Demon Lord’s swing. Time was running out. Her companions lay defeated, leaving her as Korra’s last hope.

As she darted and weaved through Korra’s relentless attacks, desperately seeking the space and time to think, Izumi’s laughter pierced the tense air. “Just surrender now, Demon Queen!” Izumi called out, her voice a mocking sneer amidst the chaos. “You’ll never win! Korra’s now bound to me by blood!”

Blood.

The word echoed in Asami’s mind, halting her frantic movements for a moment. The dagger, the source of Korra’s enslavement, used blood as its binding agent. Asami glanced at her left hand, the dagger’s grip firm within her grasp, then to her right, her palm up, revealing a scar that had never fully healed—a constant reminder of their bond.

We drink each other’s blood, and we’d be bound for eternity.

The realization hit Asami with the force of a revelation. She and Korra were already bound by blood, intertwined in a way that Izumi could never comprehend. With a newfound determination, Asami dodged another of Korra’s strikes, using the momentum to put distance between them as she prepared for what she must do next.

Taking a deep breath, she positioned the dagger above her right palm, over the same scar that symbolized their eternal bond. Without a second thought, she sliced through her palm, mirroring the old wound, wincing at the pain. Blood welled up from the fresh cut, dripping down to coat the dagger’s blade.

Asami clenched her fist around the dagger, her blood mingling with its surface, a silent plea for the bond it represented to recognize its true allegiance. With her eyes shut tight, Asami braced herself, hoping beyond hope that this act, this sacrifice, would be enough to sever the unnatural ties binding Korra to Izumi.

At that moment, with her blood freely given, Asami stood resolute amidst the tempest of battle, a lone figure of defiance against the darkness threatening to consume them. Her heart ached for Korra, for the return of the woman she loved more than life itself, and with everything she had, she called out to that lingering spark of Korra, begging it to come home.

“Asami?”

The Demon Queen’s green eyes snapped open at the sound of her wife’s voice, so familiar yet so achingly missed. “Korra!” she exclaimed, a mixture of relief and disbelief coloring her tone.

Without hesitation, Asami ran toward Korra, who had already returned to her original demon form, looking more like the woman she loved than the monstrous visage forced upon her. Asami crashed into Korra with a force born of desperate relief, unintentionally causing her to release the dagger when her arms wrapped around her wife’s torso. It clanged loudly as it hit the floor, but neither of them paid it any heed.

“You’re back!” Asami breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

“Asami...I’m so sorry.” Korra’s voice was filled with remorse, her eyes reflecting the turmoil of her recent ordeals.

“It’s okay. You’re—” Asami began, ready to forgive and forget all that had happened, to just revel in the fact that Korra was herself again.

“NO!” The moment was shattered by Izumi’s outraged cry. “How did you break the bind without the incantation?!” Her disbelief and anger were palpable, her gaze flitting between Asami and the dagger on the floor as if the answer lay there.

Before Asami could formulate a response, Izumi’s wrath turned towards Jhang, who was slowly coming to his senses on the floor. With a fury born of betrayal, she lifted him by his collar. “You said the binding spell is unbreakable! You lied!”

“I- I—” Jhang stammered, his eyes wide with fear, but he found no mercy or chance to explain.

Before further words could be exchanged, Jhang was forcefully slammed against the wall, Korra’s hand gripping his throat with an iron resolve. “YOU!! I should’ve killed you long ago!” Her voice was a growl, barely contained rage vibrating through each syllable.

“Sp-spare me, my Lord,” Jhang pleaded, his voice barely a whisper as fear constricted his words.

The grip on his throat only tightened, Korra’s eyes dark with the finality of her decision. “I won’t make the same mistake again.” And with that, she crushed his throat, an act so final and brutal that blood splattered across the wall.

Asami gasped at the sight, but accepted Korra’s decision. The man had sown seeds of malice and deceit, and in the end, he reaped the whirlwind. She didn’t envy him. Any further punishment awaiting him in the Underworld would make him wish he did not invoke the wrath of the Demon Lord. However, her contemplations were abruptly interrupted by the sound of hurried shuffling to her right. Izumi, seizing the chaos as her cue, attempted to make a desperate run for it, but Asami was not about to let her escape justice.

Summoning the remnants of her strength, Asami dashed after the fleeing Fire Lord, her determination unyielding. Korra, understanding Asami’s plans, moved with supernatural speed, cutting off Izumi’s path and effectively cornering her. “Nowhere to run, bitch,” Asami declared, her voice steady, backed by the imposing figure of Korra beside her.

Izumi, finding herself trapped with no way out, seemed to undergo a rapid transformation. The panic that had spurred her flight dissipated, replaced by a resigned acceptance of her fate. Her hands dropped to her sides in defeat, and she let out a long, defeated sigh. “Ok. I’m done. I know when I lost. Kill me now, so you can get your revenge,” she said, her voice resigned, almost welcoming the end she deemed inevitable.

Asami couldn’t help but laugh at the notion, a sound that held no joy but a deep, resolute determination. “Kill you? No. If you think you’d get away so easily, you won’t. You’ll face trial for your actions, for everything you’ve done.”

Izumi’s shock was palpable as she processed Asami’s refusal to end her life. “No! Death is better than a Fire Nation prison!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with a mix of fear and defiance. The prospect of imprisonment, of enduring the consequences of her actions within the confines of a cell, seemed to terrify her more than the finality of death.

But before she could further argue her preference for death over capture, Izumi felt compelled to justify her actions, perhaps in a bid for understanding, if not sympathy. “It’s our throne in the first place!” she spat out, her anger flaring anew. “They ousted my family a long time ago, but that was bullsh*t! The world should have accepted my grandfather and his father’s visions of a united world under the Fire Nation banner!” Her declaration was fervent, a revealing glimpse into the motivations that had driven her to such extreme actions.

Asami, however, couldn’t help but respond with laughter. The sound was sharp, cutting through Izumi’s anger and self-righteousness with ease. “All of this chaos just for a deluded dream of empire?” Asami’s voice was tinged with incredulity, her mocking retort highlighting the absurdity of the violence and suffering Izumi had caused in pursuit of a vision the world had long rejected. “You bind Korra, you throw the Fire Nation into turmoil, all because you couldn’t let go of a past that no one else wants to return to?”

Izumi’s fury faltered in the face of Asami’s dismissal, her righteous anger wilting under the weight of Asami’s words. It was clear that, despite her fervent belief in her family’s right to rule, the path she had chosen had led only to destruction and division, not the unity she claimed to desire.

Asami’s laughter and the stark reality of her situation seemed to finally penetrate Izumi’s resolve, leaving her standing in the wreckage of her ambitions, faced with the undeniable truth of her isolation and the impending consequences of her actions.

—

Korra and Asami found a quiet moment of reprieve amidst the aftermath of the battle. Korra, her hands glowing with the soft, healing light of her water magic, carefully tended to the slice on Asami’s palm first, then moved to heal the array of bruises that marred her skin. Despite the focused care she gave, the guilt that shadowed her features was unmistakable.

Asami sensed the weight of remorse in her wife’s eyes. She reached out, gently cupping Korra’s jaw and caressing her face with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “I told you it’s okay,” she reassured, her voice soft yet firm, filled with an understanding that sought to alleviate Korra’s self-reproach.

Korra attempted a smile, a faint upturn of her lips that failed to mask the sorrow in her gaze. “I know, but I’m never gonna stop apologizing for hurting you. For being weak and letting myself get bound that easily.”

“We didn’t know they had that dagger with them,” Asami countered, her tone laced with reason, trying to dispel Korra’s self-blame.

“But I should’ve known!” Korra’s frustration was palpable, the burden of what ifs weighing heavily on her.

“Korra, look at me.” Asami’s voice commanded gentle attention. “And I should’ve been more helpful, more useful. I should’ve been with you.”

“It’s not your fault, Asami,” Korra insisted, her voice a whisper against the storm of guilt and regret.

“I know.” Asami acknowledged, even though she could not even believe it herself. She still felt powerless. But… “We can talk about this more after. We should help them first.” She gestured towards their companions, Mako, Kuvira, and Tenzin, who were slowly regaining consciousness, the evidence of their collective ordeal written plainly across them.

Korra nodded, the simple action conveying her agreement and readiness to move forward, if only for the moment. “Okay. Then we head home.”

Asami smiled, though tears brimmed in her eyes, a mix of relief and love and the promise of return. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

The Demon Lord felt free.

Korra reveled in the freedom to unleash her full powers without restraint, her laughter—a laugh filled with both malice and joy— echoing through the battlefield as she engaged in combat with Kuvira and Tenzin. Her movements were fluid, a dance of destruction, as she summoned the elements with unparalleled mastery. Against Kuvira, she hurled flames, countering each metal shard with a fierce intensity that illuminated the battleground. When Kuvira attempted to close the distance, Korra responded with a swift torrent of water, a barrier that kept her at bay while demonstrating the depth of her power.

Tenzin met her with gusts of wind that rivaled the storms themselves. But Korra matched his every move, her own air magic creating a maelstrom where not even the dust could settle.

Yet, amidst the exhilaration of combat, a sudden sense of dread washed over Korra. “No! Stop!” she screamed inwardly, a desperate plea to her own body, which continued its relentless assault as if possessed by a will outside her own. Her heart ached as she realized that her next target was Asami, the person she cherished above all others. “Run! Asami, please!” she wanted to shout, but her voice was trapped within, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate, her heart twisting in agony.

And then, the unthinkable happened. In a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Korra found herself standing before Asami, her arms raised, poised for a strike that could only end in tragedy. Her heart screamed for her to halt, to retract, but her limbs moved with a mind of their own. Her hand plunged forward, and the world seemed to freeze.

The next thing she knew, her arm was through Asami’s body, a nightmare made real. Asami’s blood coated her arm, warm and damning. Lifting her gaze to Asami’s face, Korra’s world crumbled at the sight that met her—Asami’s features were blank, devoid of life, her eyes empty windows to a soul that was no longer there.

“No!!” The scream that tore from Korra’s throat woke her from the dreadful nightmare. She immediately looked to her left, frantically checking her wife’s body for any signs of blood or wounds. Anything! Korra heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing amiss. Slumping back down on the bed, she took deep breaths—in and out—to calm her racing heart.

“Korra?” came a sleepy question from Asami. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

Korra looked at Asami with wide eyes, her heart still racing. “N-nothing. Just a nightmare.”

Asami gazed at her with sympathy. “What was it about? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Korra just nodded, overwhelmed by gratitude for Asami’s patience. It had been two weeks since the battle, and Korra was still plagued by nightmares from it. She frequently woke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat beneath the covers, a rarity for her. Sometimes, Asami awoke, haunted by her own set of nightmares. A soft laughter escaped Korra’s lips at the thought; they were indeed like two peas in a pod. Looking at her wife once more, Korra decided to open up about everything. “It’s always the same. The fight. But in my dreams, I always end up k-killing you…”

Asami wrapped her arms around Korra, holding her tightly. “But I’m here. You didn’t kill me. And if you did, I’d just turn into a demon, right? That’s what’s going to happen, right?” Her words were meant to be reassuring, a reminder of the pact between them, but they only served to deepen Korra’s guilt.

“I know. But, it’s different. I imagine you’d die of old age, live your human life to the fullest first before becoming a full demon. I didn’t...I didn’t think you’d be put through so much, Asami.” Tears started rolling down her cheeks now. She had put Asami in danger because of her own hubris. The same hubris she despised in Unalaq. And for her to become like him… For millennia, no one had matched her strength, leading her to believe she was invincible. What a stupid thing to believe, she chastised herself.

“Hey. It’s okay. We’ll work through this. We’ll be careful from now on, okay? Besides, the dagger is safe in our hands.” Asami tried to soothe Korra with her words, but inside, guilt gnawed at her. She had felt powerless for the majority of their battle...useless. Over the past two weeks, she had watched Korra, shadowed by sadness, wander listlessly around their home. During that time, Asami had contemplated desperately how she might gain the power to support her wife. The only solution that came to mind was to become a full-blooded demon as soon as possible. Yet, now, hearing the content of Korra’s nightmares, she hesitated, uncertain how to broach the subject with Korra. Perhaps there’s another way, she considered. But for now, she needed to be the pillar of strength for both of them.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow?” she suggested gently.

Korra nodded, her expression softening into a small smile, grateful for the reprieve. “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

—

The sun peeking through their window woke Asami from her deep slumber. She rolled over to nestle against her wife but met an empty space instead. A note served as her wife’s replacement.

“I’ll be in the Underworld for a bit. Just taking care of things, don’t worry. -Love, K”

A disappointed sigh escaped her lips. It seemed she’d be on her own today. Asami might as well get up and start her day.

After a small breakfast, Asami turned the TV on for background noise as she began her work. The Fire Nation scandal was still the talk of the town. Nobody knew what had happened, as Korra and Kuvira had erased the memories of the witnesses and deleted all the pictures in the news about them before they left. Now, the citizens of the Fire Nation were left in the dark. Good for them, Asami thought. It would be better if Korra’s existence was never revealed. Let the world speculate about what had happened, she mused bitterly.

In quiet solitude, Asami busied herself with routine tasks, seeking distraction from the absence of Korra’s vibrant presence. Her home office, normally a hive of innovation and creativity, felt unusually still, its typical hum of activity muted by emptiness.

As midday approached, Asami found herself standing at the window, her gaze fixed on the bustling streets of Republic City below. The city moved on, oblivious to the tumultuous events that had recently transpired in the Fire Nation.

Eventually, the droning sound of the TV, which incessantly covered the Fire Nation scandal, became too much for her. Asami turned it off, welcoming the ensuing silence. This quiet, however, offered a welcome reprieve. It afforded her a moment to reflect on everything that had happened and the uncertain future that awaited.

Her contemplation was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. “Asami?” came the raspy voice of her father from the other side.

Rushing to welcome him, Asami opened the door. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, sweetie. Just coming to check up on you and Korra,” Hiroshi said as he entered.

“I’m fine, Dad. Korra’s not here yet; she’s still in the Underworld,” Asami informed him as they moved inside. She offered Hiroshi something to drink, but he declined, mentioning he wouldn’t stay long.

“Dad, I want to thank you for making that titanium box for the dagger. I can breathe easy now that the dagger will be safe from now on,” Asami expressed her gratitude.

“I’m glad to be of help, sweetie,” Hiroshi responded with a smile. “How are you? Really. Tell me the truth this time.”

Confronted with her father’s keen observation, Asami sighed, realizing she couldn’t hide her true feelings from him. So, she shared everything—her guilt, her insecurities, and her desire for more power to stand equally beside Korra. Most significantly, she confessed her wish to become a fully realized demon.

Hiroshi listened intently, understanding the depth of his daughter’s feelings. He had known, ever since Asami and Korra first shared their truth with him, that their relationship would face many challenges. He recognized the depth and ferocity of his daughter’s love and understood that Asami would do anything to be the best partner possible. Just like her mother, he thought wistfully.

“Have you told Korra your wishes yet?” Hiroshi finally asked, his question hanging in the air, inviting Asami to consider the next steps in their shared journey.

“Not yet,” Asami admitted, her voice carrying a mix of determination and uncertainty. “But I will. I’m sure there’s another way than killing me.”

Hiroshi, initially taken aback by the gravity of what his daughter was considering, nodded slowly. It was a stark reminder of the extraordinary life his daughter led, a life far removed from the ordinary concerns that preoccupied most people. Yet, understanding the depth of their bond and the challenges that came with it, he replied, “I’m sure Korra will understand.” His voice was steady, offering support and belief in the strength of Asami and Korra’s relationship.

Asami smiled at her father, the exchange affirming her resolve. Hiroshi’s visit, though brief, had provided her with a sense of comfort and reassurance. She was reminded that, despite the unusual and often daunting path she and Korra walked, she wasn’t alone. The support of her family, the unwavering love between her and Korra, was a constant source of strength.

Before Hiroshi could leave, a gust of wind manifested in the living room, a sure sign of Korra’s return. Asami smiled, recognizing the unique signature of her wife’s magic. Despite the current absence of their previous connection, Asami knew that style of wind was unmistakably Korra’s.

“I’m ho-Oh. Hiroshi, you’re here,” Korra said, surprised to find her father-in-law still in their home.

Hiroshi chuckled warmly at the sight of Korra. “Yes. And I’m glad to see my favorite demon.”

Korra actually laughed at the statement. Asami was glad that her wife was happy, light, and engaging in conversation, a stark contrast to last night. “Hah! I’m the only demon you know!”

Their laughter filled the room, a moment of lightness amidst the complexities of their lives. “Okay. I’ll see you two around. Hopefully, the next time with my grandchild!” Hiroshi shouted down the hall as he made his way out, leaving his parting words hanging in the air.

“Dad!” Asami hid her face in her hands, mortified by her father’s unabashed persistence on the topic. Meanwhile, Korra’s eyes widened at the mention of a grandchild, clearly caught off guard by Hiroshi’s remark. It was clear that Hiroshi still wouldn’t let the idea of grandchildren go, much to Asami’s embarrassment.

Once Hiroshi had left, the atmosphere in the room shifted back to a tranquil calm, the laughter and light-hearted banter giving way to a moment of silent understanding between Korra and Asami. As the echo of the conversation about future grandchildren lingered, Asami walked over to Korra, closing the distance with a few short steps. She then reached up on her tiptoes and greeted Korra with a kiss, a soft smile playing on her lips. “How’s the Underworld?” she asked, curiosity tinting her voice.

Korra smiled into the kiss, the comfort of Asami’s presence grounding her. “It’s the same. Kuvira’s managing enough. Um…” She hesitated, a shadow of something else crossing her features. Asami was well aware of the tension that had existed between Korra and the general since their return from the battle, but she patiently waited, giving Korra the space to explain in her own time.

“Kuvira and I patched things up.”

Earlier

Korra breathed in the familiar scent of the Underworld, its fiery aroma intermingling with the undercurrents of power and ancient magic that always seemed to bring a semblance of comfort to her tumultuous thoughts. Mako and Bolin, ever faithful in their duties, greeted her swiftly upon her arrival.

“Welcome back, my lord,” they both said in unison, their voices echoing slightly in the vast expanse of the realm.

“Tell Kuvira I’ll be seeing her in my tower in an hour. I have something to discuss,” Korra instructed without pause.

“Yes, my Lord,” they responded before departing to carry out her command.

Once they were gone, Korra transported herself to her secret spot in the Underworld, a place she kept hidden from all but envisioned sharing with Asami once she was fully the Demon Queen. The tranquility of the oasis amidst the darker backdrop of the Underworld always brought her a sense of peace.

Arriving at the hill she had traversed millennia ago, back when she was in training, Korra found the oasis unchanged. It stood as a testament to time, a little sanctuary that had remained untouched by the chaos that often swept through the Underworld.

Korra made her way toward the spring, cradling the metal container Hiroshi had crafted for the dagger—the very object that had been the source of so much agony for her and Asami. With determined strokes, she swam to the center of the spring, the deepest part where the waters were quiet and undisturbed. There, she used her powers to bend the soil at the spring’s bed, creating a space for the container before carefully burying it deep where no eyes would find it.

Swimming back to the surface, Korra broke through the water with a gasp, the humid air of the Underworld filling her lungs. Climbing out of the spring, she stood for a moment, looking back at the waters that now concealed their pain and struggle.

A sense of melancholy washed over her, mixed with a profound relief. It was finally over.

—

“You asked for me?” Kuvira’s voice cut through the silence of Korra’s tower as soon as she entered. She immediately noticed the Demon Lord’s rigid posture—the way Korra had her arms crossed behind her, the intent focus on the stone map table instead of assuming her usual place upon the throne. It was clear to Kuvira: the conversation they were about to have had been brewing for a long time. The tension that had simmered between them was now reaching a boiling point.

Korra turned to face her, and Kuvira was momentarily taken aback by the unmistakable guilt in her lord’s eyes. Driven by a mixture of concern and anger, Kuvira strode toward Korra. “Why are you looking like that?”

“I- I put you all in trouble, and the Underworld in jeopardy—”

“That’s because you’ve become complacent, weak! You used to be ruthless, but then you met that human and everything crumbled. You let her taint you with human weakness. And you are the epitome of weakness right now. Instead of apologizing to me, what you should do is to fix your mistakes and never repeat them again! Don’t make me regret helping you become the Demon Lord,” Kuvira snapped, her words sharp and unyielding.

Korra’s face hardened in response to Kuvira’s accusations. “Don’t you think I know that! What do you think I was supposed to say? That I’d fold!” She loomed over the general, her stature imposing. “But I also have a duty to my wife. She comes first before anything else.” Korra could feel Kuvira’s anger, thick in the air between them, but she was determined to make her understand, to bridge the gap between them. “But that doesn’t mean that I will abandon the Underworld. That doesn’t mean that I’d stay weak. I swear that I will bounce back.” But then, her expression softened. “And I want to thank you for helping Asami bring me back. I will never forget it and your loyalty.” She reached out, placing her hand on Kuvira’s shoulder in a gesture of gratitude and unity.

At Korra’s words, Kuvira’s anger seemed to ebb away, replaced by a complex mix of emotions. Placing her hand over Korra’s, she grappled with her feelings. Of all demons, why was her heart so entangled with Korra? To someone who saw her as nothing more than her general. Yet, Kuvira’s loyalty, her unwavering devotion, was her defining trait. She could no more betray Korra than she could betray herself. “Yes. But I have one request,” Kuvira finally said, her voice steady.

“What is it?”

“We shall duel every century. No holds barred until one taps out.”

Korra smirked, a spark of her old fire lighting her eyes. “Deal.”

Present

“Then I gave the demon generals their task. Command their demons to find every single one of the cultists’ lairs, and burn them all. If they are performing a ritual, kill them all,” she said.

“Good,” Asami responded simply.

Korra was quite taken aback by Asami’s reaction. She hadn't known what to expect, but immediate acceptance certainly wasn’t it. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna question my decision?”

“No. Why would I? They deserve it.”

Korra offered Asami a lopsided smile, touched by her understanding. “Okay. I really am lucky to have met you.”

Asami decided to seize the moment to tease a little. “Yes, you are.” She then broached the topic she had been dreading. “Korra. I want to be the Demon Queen.”

“But you’re already my queen.”

“No, Korra. I meant I want to be a full demon. Now.”

“Asami. We’ve talked about this. And—”

“Korra, please… I want to be able to help you out any time. And back in the Fire Nation, I feel powerless. I won’t ask you to kill me. That would be unfair of me. But I know there has got to be another way!”

“There is.” A new voice interrupted.

The couple jumped, and Korra, driven by instinct, threw a punch at the unexpected visitor. It connected with a solid thump, followed by a gruff grunt.

“You still have remarkable reflexes, Korra,” Tenzin remarked as he got up from the floor, nursing his bruised jaw. “But, Ms. Sato is right. There is another way.”

Tenzin proceeded to explain, “The method is called Essence Transfusion. It’s an intimate process that involves transferring a portion of a demon’s essence into a human. This doesn’t require any grand ritual but relies on a deep, mutual bond between the human and the demon. The essence of a demon is shared during a profound connection, intertwining their life forces. This method allows for a gradual transformation, integrating demonic attributes while preserving the individual’s humanity.”

Asami, processing this new information, asked, “How do we do it? Korra and I are already married. We have a strong bond.”

Tenzin turned unusually red at her question. “You two need to...uh...fornicate under the full moon for twenty-four hours,” he stammered out, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

Now it was Asami’s turn to blush, her face turning a deep shade of red. “B-but we already did it before, but nothing happened.” Korra blushed furiously too. It was embarrassing to admit such a thing aloud, but it was necessary for clarity.

“Well, the difference is...you two need to conceive. And if Ms. Sato can withstand the pain of bearing your child,” Tenzin clarified, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?!” both Korra and Asami exclaimed in unison, shocked by the revelation.

“Yes. That’s the only way. Well. I hope that helps, Ms. Sato. Again, I apologize for my unexpected intrusion,” Tenzin finished, making a quick escape toward the door. “And if you two ever need help, you can always call me.”

Left alone, Korra and Asami processed the unexpected turn their conversation with Tenzin had taken.

Maybe my father would get his wish afterall.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

The cool night air caressed her skin as Korra and Asami traversed a lush mountain on the outskirts of Republic City hand in hand. Curious, Asami asked why they didn’t just teleport to their destination, but Korra responded with a smile, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Asami scoffed internally. Their adventure in the Fire Nation had been enough to last for decades, thank you very much. But if Korra wanted to enjoy the walk, then so be it. She couldn’t deny the beauty of the moonlit path or the comforting presence of Korra beside her.

After a while of comfortable silence, a question that had been nagging at Asami’s mind prompted her to break the silence. “How do you think Tenzin knew about this ritual?”

Shrugging, Korra replied, “Honestly, I don’t know. But at least he shared the most important information he could ever give. Don’t you think?” There was a playful wink in Korra’s response, a lightness that sought to ease the tension between them.

Asami blushed at the implication. It had indeed been a long time—more specifically, a month—since they had sex. The fact that this encounter was not just about sex but also about potentially conceiving and fulfilling her transformation, added a layer of significance and pressure unlike any other. To say that Asami was nervous was an understatement. The knowledge that the act could lead to her becoming a full demon was overwhelming.

Yet, as they continued their walk, the rhythm of their steps and the tranquil beauty of the night served to calm Asami’s nerves. This wasn’t just a means to an end; it was a reaffirmation of their bond, a step towards a future they both desired. Asami took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the environment and her trust in Korra anchor her.

By the time they reached their destination—a secluded clearing bathed in moonlight—Asami felt a sense of peace. She was ready.

“So, how do we do this? How would this work?” Asami asked, her voice a mixture of determination and a hint of nervous anticipation.

Korra responded by stepping closer, her strong hands finding Asami’s waist. “Well, I think that by birthing a new life, you’ve sacrificed yours. You’ll technically die to give life. And as for the process… Like how we usually do, but…” Her voice trailed off, tinged with apprehension.

“What is it?” Asami prompted, concern threading through her words at Korra’s hesitation.

“It’s going to hurt, Asami.” Korra’s concern was palpable, her caring nature shining through even as they stood on the precipice of their decision.

Asami, touched by Korra’s thoughtfulness but resolute in her decision, met Korra’s gaze with steadfast resolve. “I can take it, Korra.” Her voice was firm, underlined by the strength of her commitment to their shared goal, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Under the luminous glow of the full moon, their surroundings seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the union that was about to unfold. Korra’s gaze, intense and full of unspoken promises, locked with Asami’s, conveying a depth of emotion that words could scarcely capture.

Asami leaned into Korra, her initial apprehension melting away under the warmth of Korra’s touch, her hands finding Korra’s shoulders, tracing the contours of muscles shaped by centuries of battles and victories. Their lips met in a kiss that was both a reassurance and a seal of their commitment, a mingling of breaths that spoke of shared pasts and entwined futures.

Korra’s hands, strong yet gentle, guided Asami, their movements harmonious, a dance refined by years of being together. Each touch, each kiss, was laced with the knowledge of what was to come, an initiation into a realm unknown, yet eagerly anticipated.

Suddenly, the Demon Lord lifted her, Asami’s legs instinctively finding their place around her wife’s waist. The softness of the prepared blanket greeted Asami’s back, and Korra’s lips met hers with a fervor that spoke volumes of their bond. “Korra…oh,” Asami found herself breathless, caught in the whirlwind of Korra’s gentle yet insistent kisses. Her wife, guided by a deep yearning, began a dance of closeness that sent waves of anticipation through Asami. She could feel the heat between them, a testament to their mutual desire.

Minutes felt like moments as Korra’s kisses trailed a path of warmth from Asami’s jaw to her neck. A gasp escaped Asami when Korra’s lips pressed a tender, yet fervent kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, the motion sending a thrill through her core. That moment of intensity was a call to action. Asami, in a move as fluid as the night around them, shed her garments, the night air kissing her skin with a chill that contrasted sharply with the warmth of their embrace. “Why are you still clothed?” she teased, her words a playful challenge wrapped in desire.

Korra’s response was a chuckle, rich and warm. “So eager,” she said, her voice a low melody that seemed to dance in the cool night air. Korra slowly shrugged off her coat, tossing the offending clothing behind her before pulling her pants down, slipping it off her feet, her co*ck springing out. Asami immediately wrapped her slender fingers around her wife’s hard, throbbing length. The Demon Lord crawled on top of Asami, leaving wet kisses on her trail until she hovered above the Demon Queen.

The Demon Lord adjusted her stance, situating herself between Asami’s legs, her co*ck perfectly aligned with Asami’s puss*. It elicited a deep moan from the Demon Queen. With each careful movement, she explored the warmth and closeness of their bodies, drawing out sighs and whispers of longing. “Please, I need you inside,” Asami breathed out, her voice tinged with urgency. Drawing Korra closer, Asami whispered, “Take me, Korra.”

“As you wish.” Their lips met in a kiss that was both a seal of their bond and a gateway to a deeper connection. Korra moved gently, pushing her co*ck inside Asami, their closeness becoming more profound with every moment.

Slowly, inch by inch, she buried inside Asami’s velvet walls. Asami’s hands planted on her back, urging her to continue, and Korra couldn’t refuse. Once she was buried to the hilt, the Demon Queen beneath her let out a sigh of desire mixed with relief. Asami’s puss* pulsed around the shaft, and the warmth that surrounded her was gradually burning hotter.

Korra’s initial thrusts were slow, and gentle, a tenderness that made Asami’s heart swell even as she yearned for more intensity. The flickers of pleasure building within her begged for a quicker pace.

“Korra, why so cautious? I said I can take it,” Asami said, a playful edge to her voice despite her growing impatience.

Korra’s smirk was both affectionate and teasing. “Even this early? I’d hate for you to tire before our time is up. We’ve set ourselves quite the challenge, remember?”

Asami met her gaze, determination sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve faced this challenge before, and I’ll do it again. Don’t underestimate me, Korra.”

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” her voice soft, yet laden with unspoken promises. With a sudden movement, Korra thrusted with such force, Asami felt her co*ckhead nudge her cervix, prompting a chorus of gasps from her.

“Oh, f*ck f*ck f*ck!” Asami’s exclamations became a rhythmic chant that matched Korra’s movements. The overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely, of being stretched and cherished, pushed her rapidly towards climax. When Korra bit her shoulder, Asami fell over the edge, her mouth forming an ‘o’ in a silent scream.

As her climax continued to surge through her, Asami bit down on Korra’s shoulder until her teeth broke the skin. The metallic taste of Korra’s blood was like water on a parched day, and euphoria rushed through her body. Suddenly, their connection linked and deepened once more. She felt both Korra’s pain and pleasure, which, in turn, extended her own climax.

But Korra didn’t stop. She turned her wife onto her stomach, elevating her hips, Korra resumed, now with a pace that matched the frantic beating of their hearts.

“You feel so good, Asami. Always so tight. So perfect for me.”

Asami mewled underneath her. She loved the dirty talk, especially knowing Korra was close. She was, too. Determined to take Korra over the edge with her, Asami squeezed, trying to draw her wife closer to climax.

A few thrusts later, Korra grunted, finally releasing inside Asami. It was more than physical release; it was a merging of souls, an affirmation of their union.

The Demon Queen screamed, her grip on the blanket tightening, knuckles turning white. It was intensely hot, her womb feeling as if it were on fire. So this was the pain Korra spoke of, she thought, her mind swirling with a mix of pain and indescribable pleasure.

As the intensity waned, Korra withdrew with care, her immediate concern for Asami’s well-being shining through. “Asami, my love, talk to me. Are you all right?” Her voice was laden with worry and affection.

Asami, still panting, felt the pain linger; tears streamed down her face, but she remained resolute. Nodding, she assured Korra, “I’m fine.”

“Asami, are you sure?”

“Y-yes, Kor. I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Korra said, moving to embrace Asami. She felt guilty for having caused her wife this pain, even if it was part of the ritual. She was about to suggest they stop, but Asami kissed her, silencing her doubts. In that moment, Korra understood; their connection was not just re-established but fortified, giving her a source of peace and strength.

“Let’s continue.”

—

Four hours into their primal ritual, a transformation began to unfold within Asami. She could sense her body adapting, becoming one with the potent seed Korra bestowed upon her with each union. The heat that once seemed a challenge now felt like a natural part of her, a symbol of their deepening bond.

At this moment, they had slowed their pace, acknowledging the toll the ritual took on Asami's stamina. Yet, her spirit remained unyielding. Despite the fatigue that whispered for her to rest, Asami's resolve was ironclad. Just 20 more hours. I’ve endured this before; I can do it again, she mentally fortified herself, her determination unwavering.

Then, as if her thoughts had summoned it, another wave of intense pleasure overtook her as she felt another torrent of hot cum spilled inside her. Korra’s essence merged with her own once again.

Exhausted, Asami collapsed onto the ground, the earth cool against her overheated skin. Korra, ever her protector and partner, followed, draping herself over Asami in a protective embrace. Despite the ordeal, Korra’s endurance seemed untouched, her concern for Asami shining through her calm exterior.

“Do you want to take a break?” Korra’s voice was gentle, laced with worry and love.

“No,” Asami breathed out stubbornly, her voice a soft but resolute whisper, even if her body was already sore. I wish I was still in my twentys. Her competitive spirit, coupled with her deep desire to fulfill this ritual alongside Korra, wouldn’t allow her to concede to rest—not yet.

Sixteen hours in, and Asami’s belly felt full to the brim, their mixed essences pooling beneath them as her womb couldn’t contain the copious amounts of cum Korra had given her. I’m definitely pregnant, she thought.

Korra chuckled from behind her. “Yeah, you definitely are.”

“How many do you think we made?” she asked with a light laugh, intending it as a joke. But Korra turned her around, her blue eyes gleaming with a mix of seriousness and mirth.

“Definitely more than one,” she declared, her smile broadening with cheeky delight.

“More than one? So, you think we’ll have twins?”

Korra’s laughter filled the air. “I was thinking more like twenty.”

Asami’s eyes nearly bulged out of her sockets. “Twenty!”

—

“f*ck!” Finally, Asami collapsed atop Korra, completely exhausted from their 24-hour marathon. She found herself unable to move, her body not responding to her commands, still trembling from the relentless waves of pleasure that had coursed through her. She nuzzled closer into the crook of Korra’s neck, drawing comfort from the familiar scent of her wife.

Everything after the sixteenth hour blurred together for Asami. She had fleeting memories of being maneuvered into various positions; at one point, she found herself on her knees, seeking a moment’s respite for her body while still intimately connected with Korra. Then, she remembered riding Korra as if everything depended on it, a fierce determination driving her to complete their mating ritual. Now, all that was left was to wait — wait for Korra’s essence to fulfill its purpose, hoping for the gift of new life.

As Korra’s arms encircled Asami’s weary frame, the Demon Queen found comfort in the knowledge that they would embark on this new journey together. The prospect of raising a family with Korra, without having to wait for the twilight years of life, filled her with an indescribable sense of peace and anticipation.

—

In the months following their intense mating ritual, Asami began to notice unmistakable changes in herself. She moved with a swiftness that was almost ethereal, her senses sharpened beyond human capacity, and her cravings for certain foods became insatiable. The most striking change was visible in her eyes, which sparkled with an otherworldly blue amidst her natural green, her pupils taking on a slitted appearance reminiscent of a demon’s gaze. But it was the gradual swell of her belly that brought a realization crashing down on her: she might truly be pregnant.

Excitement and nervous anticipation bubbled within Asami as she shared the news with Korra. The Demon Lord’s reaction was one of pure ecstasy, her joy palpable in the air. Without a moment’s hesitation, Korra vanished, only to reappear from the Underworld with Ming-Hua, the demon general known for her healing prowess, at her side. Asami remembered Ming-Hua’s striking appearance: straight, long black hair framing a slender figure, her eyes sharp and penetrating. Korra’s reasoning was clear: they couldn't risk exposing their potentially demon child to a human doctor.

Ming-Hua’s examination was thorough yet gentle. With hands hovering just above Asami’s growing belly, she soon broke into a warm smile. “Congratulations. Your belly is full of healthy babies.”

Asami’s heart skipped a beat. “Babies? Twins?”

The healer’s smile was her only answer before she vanished as mysteriously as she had appeared.

Turning to Korra, whose grin could light up the darkest of rooms, Asami felt a mix of awe and apprehension. “Kor, exactly how many babies are we talking about?”

Korra’s response was to pull Asami into a tender embrace, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “No matter how many they are, we’re going to be there for them,” she affirmed with unwavering conviction.

Asami’s mind raced. Oh, no. What if there are twenty of them?

—

Six months into her pregnancy, Asami’s belly was larger than she ever imagined possible. Eager to share their joy, she had announced the good news to Hiroshi and Opal, both of whom were overjoyed at the prospect of the new additions to their extended family, especially her father. They commemorated the occasion with a lavish feast that evening.

Later, in the quiet of their room, Asami and Korra lay entwined on the bed as comfortably as her belly would allow, the day’s celebrations winding down to intimate moments. Asami, her hand drawing absent patterns on Korra’s abs, was lost in thought, her contemplations hidden yet palpable to Korra.

“What are you thinking?” Korra asked, her voice cutting gently through the silence, attuned to Asami’s inner turmoil.

Asami exhaled deeply, the weight of her concerns audible in her sigh. “Just... thinking about our children’s future. Where they will grow up—here or in the Underworld? Whether they will find friends, if they’ll look normal like me, and most importantly, their safety. What if Unalaq’s offspring pose a threat to them?”

Korra’s response was to pull Asami closer, her embrace a fortress against the world. “Unalaq’s children aren’t a concern—he had none. His arrogance was his undoing; he saw children as nuisances, not realizing the joy they bring.”

“Really?” Asami’s voice was a mix of surprise and relief.

“Yes, really. And remember, we’re surrounded by friends who’ll stand by us. They’re ready to protect our family. As for everything else, we’ll cross that bridge together when the time comes.”

Comforted by Korra’s reassurances, Asami allowed herself a moment of peace, her worries easing as she nestled closer to her wife. The gentle rhythm of Korra’s heartbeat lulled her into a serene slumber.

—

As Asami was preparing for bed, a sudden warmth spread down her inner thighs. A quick glance confirmed her immediate fear: her water had broken. The realization was swiftly followed by a searing pain that coursed through her body, eliciting a scream so visceral, it seemed to echo beyond the confines of their world. “Aaagghh!” Her outcry was a beacon, summoning Korra instantly to her side.

“Asami! I’m here! Let’s get you to the Underworld,” Korra said, her voice a mix of determination and concern.

In an instant, they were transported to the Underworld, where Korra, carrying Asami in her arms, rushed towards the birthing room. “Get Ming-Hua now!” she commanded, urgency lacing her voice.

Demons scattered in all directions at the command, with Bolin, in particular, tripping over himself in his haste to find the healer.

“Aaaggh! Korra!” Asami’s screams filled the room, her grip on Korra’s hand tightening with desperation. “I think they’re coming out!”

“Shh,” Korra soothed, her hands gently wiping the sweat from Asami’s brow. “I got you, it’s okay.” Her voice was steady, a calm in the storm, as she prepared to support Asami through the birth of their children. “Ming-Hua’s on her way, love. Just hang in there,” she whispered, her voice a steady anchor in the chaos.

Asami’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the strength she wielded. “It hurts, Korra. It hurts so much,” she managed between clenched teeth, her grip on Korra’s hand tightening with each wave of pain.

“I know, I know,” Korra murmured, pressing a kiss to Asami’s forehead, her heart aching with each of Asami’s cries. “But you’re so strong, Asami. Our little ones couldn’t have asked for a braver mother.”

The room’s heavy doors burst open, and Ming-Hua, with Bolin trailing behind, her, rushed in. The healer’s presence brought a new energy, her focus immediately on Asami. With a nod to Korra, she began her work, her hands glowing with a soft, healing light as they hovered over Asami’s belly.

“Your Grace, I need you to push when I tell you,” Ming-Hua instructed, her voice firm yet encouraging. The room fell into a rhythm, guided by Ming-Hua’s experienced hands and Korra’s unwavering support.

With each push, Asami felt a mixture of excruciating pain and an overwhelming desire to meet the beings she and Korra had created. Korra, for her part, whispered words of love and encouragement, her voice the one constant in a whirlwind of sensation.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a small cry pierced the air… followed by another. The sound, so full of life and promise, brought tears to Asami’s eyes, a mix of relief, joy, and exhaustion overwhelming her. They were having twins! Oh, thank f*ck it wasn’t twenty!

In the breathless quiet that followed the arrival of their children, Asami experienced a profound, overwhelming sensation that seemed to originate from the very core of her being. As the cries of their newborns filled the air, a transformative energy surged through her, more intense than any she had felt before.

It began as a warm flush, spreading from the center of her chest outward, tingling as it traveled through her veins. Asami’s eyes, already adapting to their new life, shifted more dramatically now, the green deepening, flecked with vibrant, glowing blue, their slits narrowing further, a clear mirror of her newly embraced demon lineage. Her skin, too, felt different, thrumming with a newfound power, its texture taking on the ethereal quality that Korra possessed.

Muscles, fatigued from the ordeal of childbirth, now reknit themselves with a strength that was both alien and familiar, reinforcing her body with a resilience that transcended human limitations. Asami’s senses, already heightened from her pregnancy, sharpened further, the sounds of the Underworld, the scent of brimstone and magic, the very essence of Korra beside her, becoming acutely pronounced.

Her transformation was not just physical; Asami felt a shift in her very essence. A connection to the Underworld, to Korra, and to their children that was profound and indelible. She was no longer just Asami Sato; she was Asami, a being of both human and demon realms, a bridge between two worlds.

As the final vestiges of her transformation settled, a peace enveloped her. Ming-Hua, noticing the change, nodded with a knowing smile, recognizing the significance of the moment. Korra, tears of joy and awe mingling, looked upon Asami with a reverence and love that was boundless.

“They’re here,” Ming-Hua announced once more, her voice echoing in the newly transformed space around them. “You have beautiful, healthy babies.”

Korra, tears of joy streaming down her face, looked at Asami with a love so deep it seemed to transcend the very realms they inhabited. “We did it, Asami. They’re perfect.”

As Ming-Hua and the attendants busied themselves with the newborns, Korra stayed by Asami’s side, their hands intertwined. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

The healer handed the newborns to their eager parents.

“Look, Asami! He looks just like you!” The boy, cradled in Korra’s strong arms, had a tuft of dark hair, reminiscent of his mother’s, but his eyes—those were Asami’s, green but dancing with specks of blue that mirrored the depths of the Underworld.

Asami smiled lovingly. “And she looks just like you.” The girl, nestled against Asami, bore Korra’s striking blue eyes, a contrast to her own softer features, and her hair, even in its infancy, hinted at the raven darkness of Asami’s.

The sight of their children, so perfect and beautiful, a blend of their essences, filled Korra and Asami with indescribable joy. Tears of happiness welled in their eyes as they gazed at the tiny beings that represented their love and commitment to each other. Korra, ever the pillar of strength, felt a vulnerability in her heart, a fierce protectiveness over her small family. Asami, transformed and reborn in more ways than one, marveled at the life they had created together. She felt a deep, unwavering bond to Korra, strengthened by their shared experience and the children they now held.

“Look at them, Korra,” Asami whispered, her voice laden with wonder and love. “They’re perfect.”

“They are,” Korra agreed, her voice thick with emotion. “They’re our miracle. And you, my wife, are finally a demon. I’m so proud of you.”

Asami leaned into Korra’s embrace, her heart full. “I love you, Korra. And I love them.”

“And I love you,” Korra whispered back, their shared gaze holding promises of a future filled with love, challenges, and the joy of family.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Korra, along with her generals Kuvira and Zaheer, discussed the recent protests by the human souls. They had termed it a ‘strike,’ a concept that seemed foreign in the Underworld. Amid their conversation, Bolin burst into the meeting room, his arms cradling a small demon child.

“My Lord,” he gasped, out of breath from the urgency. “I apologize for the interruption, but we’re facing an emergency!”

Korra’s heart skipped a beat with worry. “What’s wrong with Koda?”

“He’s making ‘wah wah’ noises and he just won’t stop!”

Annoyance flickered across Korra’s face. “Bolin, he’s not injured. He’s just hungry.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now, please, go on. I’ll tend to my son shortly.”

Once Bolin had departed, Korra turned her attention back to the meeting. “We should arrange a meeting with their leader to understand their demands,” she proposed, her tone carrying the weight of leadership.

Zaheer nodded in agreement, but Kuvira raised an objection. “Why bother? You’ve already improved the torture system. They ought to be grateful for that.”

Korra exhaled a sigh, her patience thinning. “We need to listen to them first before taking any further steps.”

Kuvira clicked her tongue in resignation but agreed.

The meeting concluded, and Korra transported herself to where Bolin was feeding Koda, her third child. Yasuko and Kova, now five years old, were with Asami in the Upper World. Taking Koda into her arms, Korra expressed her gratitude to Bolin.

“I don’t mind at all! I love looking after him,” Bolin replied with a bright enthusiasm. “You know, Korra, it still amazes me that you’re a parent now.”

Korra chuckled, amused by the thought. “Yeah, Bo. It amazes me too. If you had told me I would become a parent a thousand years ago, I would have slapped you.”

Bolin, imagining the slap, rubbed his cheek from the phantom pain. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t say anything back then. But seriously, Kor. This is amazing.”

“Yeah, I—”

Korra! Get in here right now! Your kids are wreaking havoc!

Without a second thought, Korra teleported to their apartment in the Upper Realm. As soon as she materialized, Asami’s screams, now audible without the need for psychic connection, assaulted her ears. “Korra! How many times must I tell you not to transport in here with Koda sleeping?”

The Demon Lord flinched under the intensity of Asami’s glare as she apologized. “Sorry. How are you? Where are Yasuko and Kova, and what have they done?” However, concern overtook her irritation when she noticed Asami wincing in pain. Rushing to her side, Korra suggested, “You should rest,” while gently touching Asami’s pregnant belly.

“I should, but I had to deal with something from work. That’s when the twins started their chase,” Asami explained, easing herself onto a chair. A smile then played on her lips. “You’re going to like this news,” she hinted, shifting little Koda into her arms.

“What’s the news?”

“Yasuko and Kova have your powers.”

Korra blinked, processing the information. “Which powers?”

“You’ll see,” Asami stated simply, anticipation and a hint of amusem*nt in her voice.

Their question was immediately answered by shrieks echoing through the room, accompanied by a flick of flame and a whip of water. Korra watched, her jaw dropping in shock, as Kova ran around shrieking with glee, puffing out small flames from his hands toward Yasuko, who defended herself with a whip made of water.

“See? Wreaking havoc,” Asami remarked dryly.

Korra could hardly believe her eyes. Her twins had each inherited one of her elemental powers. “What are you waiting for? Stop them before they set our apartment on fire!” Asami’s urgent voice snapped Korra out of her stupor.

She sprang into action, dashing towards her twins. Positioning herself between them, Korra used a gust of air to separate them, her powers creating a cushion of air to halt their playful assault. “Hey, stop!” she commanded.

“Sire!!” The twins exclaimed in unison, their excitement undimmed as they charged towards her and leaped into her arms.

“Welcome back!! Did you see what Yasu and I did?!” Kova’s laughter was filled with pride.

Yasuko joined in, just as enthusiastic. “I whipped Kova with water!”

Korra, now surrounded by her energetic children, couldn’t help but laugh, the initial shock giving way to a deep, overwhelming affection. “Since when did you two learn to use your powers? And why are you causing trouble for your mom?” Korra’s tone mixed amusem*nt with mild reproof.

“Just today, while we were playing. But,” both twins sported identical pouts, their eyes turning to Asami, “Sorry, mama,” they chimed in unison.

Korra couldn’t suppress a grin at their cuteness, catching Asami trying to hide a snicker behind her.

They’re just like you, Asami communicated through their mind-link.

Yeah, yeah. You’re always right, Korra mentally conceded with a mental roll of her eyes.

As always, came Asami’s smug reply.

Clearing her throat, Korra adopted a more authoritative stance. “Yasuko, Kova, I need you two to listen very carefully,” she began, ensuring she had their full attention. The twins looked up, their expressions serious.

“Let’s talk about some important rules for using your powers, okay?”

Saluting with the earnestness only children could muster, they responded, “Yes, sire!” Their voices were full of the eagerness to please and the innocence of five-year-olds.

Korra smiled, warmed by their response, feeling proud of how Asami and her raised their kids. Without further ado, she laid down their ground rules. “Alright, kiddos, rule number one,” Korra began, ensuring she had the twins’ undivided attention. “You must promise me that you won’t use your powers when other people are around. It’s our little secret, okay?” The twins nodded, their eyes wide with the gravity of the rule.

“Except for Grandpa Hiroshi and Auntie Opal,” Korra continued, a smile tugging at her lips. “You can show off to them a little. But,” she added quickly, seeing the excitement spark in their eyes, “only after I’ve trained you in controlling your powers. We don’t want any accidents, right?”

Yasuko and Kova nodded, their expressions serious yet filled with the thrill of their new secret.

“And another rule,” Korra added, her voice taking on a playful yet firm tone, “no using your powers to settle arguments between you two. Powers are for helping and creating, not for escaping responsibilities or fighting each other.”

Yasuko and Kova exchanged a guilty look, a silent agreement passing between them. They knew exactly what Korra meant.

“Lastly,” Korra concluded, her heart swelling with pride at the sight of her attentive children, “always use your powers to protect each other and the people you love. Remember, being strong means knowing when not to use your strength.”

“Yes, sire!” they saluted once more, a mix of solemnity and mischief in their eyes.

Korra hugged them close, her heart overflowing with emotion. “Good. If you follow these rules, you’ll grow up to be incredible demons—just like us. Now, do you guys want to go back to the Underworld?” The twins’ faces lit up with excitement, nodding eagerly in agreement. “Okay. Pack your things, and we'll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Laughter and the sound of tiny feet scampering filled the apartment as the twins dashed to their room. Watching them, Korra couldn’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, a sense of warmth spreading through her. Unlike them, she never had a childhood to reminisce about; her earliest memories were those of her duties in the Higher Realm.

“We might need to start looking for a bigger house.”

Asami’s voice, rich and warm, pulled Korra back to the present. She turned to find her wife watching her with a tender smile. “Yes, I think we do,” Korra agreed, her gaze softening. Then, a playful glint appeared in her eyes. “But I don’t have money, so you’re in charge of paying–”

Her words were barely out before a pillow, launched with Asami’s impeccable aim, hit Korra squarely in the face, filling the apartment with Korra’s boisterous laughter.

—

Standing in front of a sea of human souls on ‘strike’, Korra straightened her posture, assuming the regal demeanor befitting her title as the Demon Lord. She had to admit, she felt a bit nervous. Asami was the one experienced with such strikes from her employees and would have been a helpful presence. Unfortunately, the Demon Queen was tied up in meetings with investors all day.

Kuvira, sensing her unease, couldn’t resist a jibe. “Where is Her Grace? She should be here, learning the ways of her people.”

Korra’s hackles rose in defense of her wife. “She’s quite busy, but she’ll join us as soon as she can. Are you really going to start trouble in front of these humans?”

Kuvira smirked, satisfied with ruffling the Demon Lord. Before Korra could retort, a human soul was thrust forward by his comrades. Korra eyed the scrawny man standing before her. His blonde hair reminded her annoyingly of a coconut husk, his large square-rimmed glasses perched firmly on his nose, his expression indifferent.

“Are you their leader? What is your name?” Korra asked, her impatience thinly veiled.

The man shrugged. “I don’t know. I just talked about wanting to rest, and they all pushed me to speak to you.”

“The Demon Lord asked for your name, insolent human!” Kuvira barked.

“I’m Ryu. Whatever.” With that, he left them, pushing through the crowd as the other human souls booed him in disapproval.

“Is there anyone who wants to explain what everyone needs from me?” Korra called out, her voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd.

“Guess I have no choice,” a woman’s voice emerged from her left.

The sea of human souls parted, allowing the woman to step forward. A pair of defiant, vibrant purple eyes met Korra’s gaze, strikingly alive compared to the dull grey of the others who had been here for eternity.

“What are your demands? Speak!” Kuvira growled, stepping forward with a hand resting impatiently on her hip.

“I’m Mina. And I’ve been farming the fields for centuries now. All we have known is pain and hardship. Nothing else! Isn’t a millennium enough to atone for the sins we committed in our mortal lives? Some of us here aren’t criminals. We just made the wrong choices,” Mina declared, her voice steady and her stance unwavering.

“But this is the way of punishing you for your sins! And what would you rather do? Go back to the way before? Shoving spiders up your asses?!” Kuvira countered sharply. “The Demon Lord has given you a chance to never experience that ever again. What more do you want?”

Korra listened, her brow furrowed in thought. The cries of the human souls resonated around the field, mirroring the turmoil inside her. Mina has a point, Korra thought. The souls here have stagnated since I took over. This is why I wanted to change things in the Higher Realm—to prevent stagnation, to maintain balance. And now, it’s happening here in my world. I need to do something.

“Mina, right? Come with me to the tower,” Korra finally said, her tone indicating that it wasn't up for debate.

“You can’t be serious,” Kuvira protested, her disbelief evident in her stiff posture and narrowed eyes.

“I am serious,” Korra replied, meeting Kuvira's gaze squarely, her expression firm.

“Wait,” Mina interjected, taking a hesitant step back. “How will I know if this isn’t a trap?”

Korra’s gaze softened slightly as she looked down at the human. She straightened up, projecting sincerity. “In all your years here in the Underworld, have you known me to set a trap for humans like you?” Mina shook her head slowly. “No? Then you’ll have to trust me on this, too.”

Mina paused, uncertainty flickering in her eyes before slowly nodding, seemingly reassured by Korra’s earnest demeanor.

***

Asami sighed in relief as the last of the new investors left the meeting room. She cradled her huge belly, a comforting gesture she had adopted ever since becoming pregnant with the twins. Smiling, her heart swelled with love for their unborn child, though she resolved to tell Korra they should pause on expanding their family—at least until the kids grew up a bit. She chuckled at the thought; Korra was bound to pout for an entire week.

Her secretary, Gina, entered just as Asami was gathering her things. “Can you please make sure everything’s wrapped up here? I’m ready to head home,” Asami requested.

Gina nodded and began organizing the papers scattered across the table. As she worked, she ventured a question, “When are you due, Ms. Sato?”

“In a couple of months,” Asami replied, placing a hand on her belly with a gentle smile.

“You know, you’ve had three previous children but I’ve never once seen your husband. Why don't you invite him to the gala?” Gina asked innocently.

Asami froze for a moment. That was right—she hadn’t disclosed who her spouse was, and the details of her journey to the Fire Nation years ago to retrieve Korra had been erased from the memory of everyone who knew. She shook her head slightly before correcting, “Wife. I have a wife.”

Gina’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she stumbled over her apology. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sato. I just assumed…”

“That’s okay,” Asami reassured her with a gentle smile. “But I’ll ask if she wants to come with me to the gala.”

Relief washed over Gina’s face. She was well aware of Asami’s reputation for not tolerating disrespect or assumptions about her personal life, especially from those who had been with the company for a long time. Being relatively new, just a few years into her tenure, Gina was still learning the ropes. “Okay, Ms. Sato. Have a good rest of your day.”

Asami dismissed her with a wave of her hand and waited until the office was empty. Once alone, she activated her newfound ability—a gift from her full transformation into a demon, a perk of sharing her life so intimately with Korra. With a focused thought on their apartment, she transported instantly, the room blurring and reforming around her in the comfort of their shared space.

Quiet greeted her as she stepped into their apartment, a welcome respite from the lively energy of her family. She cherished her dynamic children and her spirited wife, but moments like this were precious pauses in the whirlwind of her daily life. Now, with the enhanced agility and freedom that came with being a demon, Asami moved through the apartment with ease, something she couldn’t enjoy during her first pregnancy.

Being a demon not only granted her physical liberty but also the mental space to dive back into her passions. She spent time tinkering with household improvements, catching up on reading, and reflecting on her projects. And perhaps most indulgently, she enjoyed having the bathtub entirely to herself.

After busying herself around the house, Asami decided to treat herself to a warm, soothing bath. She filled the tub, added her favorite aromatic soaps, and settled into the comforting embrace of the water. Closing her eyes, she allowed the scents and warmth to envelop her, her mind wandering through the day's events and the new capabilities her transformation had unlocked.

As a full demon, her endurance had remarkably increased. She could engage in her projects tirelessly, care for her children without fatigue, and most impressively, match Korra’s boundless energy during sex.

Lost in her reverie, Asami’s thoughts drifted to Korra. She imagined her wife here with her, Korra’s large hands—rough from years of training yet so gentle—caressing her pregnant belly, tracing lines of affection and desire. Her hands mimicked the movements she fantasized, slowly tracing up to her breasts and then, more daringly, downward. She let her fingers linger, teasing herself in the tender ways she knew Korra loved, then ventured further to explore deeper, her breath catching with a soft, “Korra…”

—

“Mama, we’re back!” The twins chimed in unison.

It was uncanny how they did things in sync, Asami thought, a smile tugging at her lips as she braced herself for the flood of stories her kids were about to unleash. “Hello, my loves. How was your weekend in the Underworld?”

“It was great!”

“Uncle Bo and Uncle Mako took us to see the gates where souls pass through!”

“Really?” Asami’s eyes flicked to Korra, who was just entering with Koda cradled in her arms. The twins continued to chatter excitedly about the gates, but Asami’s gaze lingered on her wife, seeking confirmation.

Korra returned her look with a sheepish grin, bending down to plant a quick kiss on Asami’s lips. “They wanted to see it, so I let them. Don’t worry, I trust Mako and Bolin with them.”

“It’s okay. Next time, take me there, too,” Asami said her, reaching out to stroke Koda’s head gently as Korra handed him over. “I trust them, too. Now, give me my baby.”

Her heart swelled as she cradled Koda, breathing in the familiar scent of her youngest child. “I’ll tuck the twins in,” Korra murmured, already heading towards their bedroom.

Once the house quieted down, Korra slipped into the shower—a habit Asami had ingrained in her—and soon joined Asami under the covers. They snuggled close, Asami resting her head against Korra’s shoulder, feeling the steady beat of her heart.

“How are you? Anything worth trash-talking about your investors?” Korra’s voice was soft, a playful undertone in her question as her fingers idly traced patterns on Asami’s arm.

“Nothing. Although, my employees wanted to meet you. They wanted me to invite you to the gala. I think that would be neat.”

“Yeah? Then I’ll go.”

“Thank you, love. We’ll need to buy something for you to wear, though.”

“Why? Is my attire really not appealing to you?” Korra's tone was mock-offended, but her eyes twinkled with humor.

Asami playfully slapped Korra’s biceps. “We’ll buy modern ones.”

They lay in silence for a moment, the warmth of their bodies mingling. Korra then broke the quiet, her voice hesitant. “Babe, do you think you could visit the Underworld sometime? The demons wanted to get to know you, too. They think you’re neglecting them for your duties here in the Upper Realm.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just been really busy, but I think I can balance my time after the gala. How’s that sound?”

“Good. Also, I’m going to revise the whole system in the Underworld.”

“Really?” That was news to Asami. She propped herself up on one elbow, her interest piqued as she looked down at Korra.

“Yeah. I talked it out with the human’srepresentative, and I think it’s about time the system changed.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“It’s going to be grand. And I need your help. We’re going to have a meeting in the Higher Realm.”

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

“Asami, are you here?” Opal called out as she unlocked her best friend’s apartment door, which creaked loudly, echoing through the hall. She peeked inside and saw no one; only the curtains moved slightly with the soft breeze. Opal shrugged and invited herself inside.

Asami had asked her to look after the apartment while she was in the Underworld. Even after all these years, Opal still couldn’t believe that her best friend had become a full demon. She wondered what it felt like to have all that power. Well, she would never know. At least her best friend wasn’t abusing her newfound abilities.

Lost in her thoughts, Opal didn’t notice another figure in the room. She rounded the corner toward the kitchen and bumped into something solid, sending her tumbling backward onto her behind. “Ouch! What the–”

“Who the hell are you?!” an unfamiliar voice demanded, snapping her out of her daze.

Opal looked up, startled, her gaze locked onto the figure towering over her, her heartbeat quickening. The woman’s face was stern, almost hawkish, with sharp cheekbones that seemed to carve shadows into her dark reddish-brown skin under the dim kitchen light. Her eyes, a piercing green, held Opal with an intensity that felt almost palpable, exuding a command and presence that was unnerving. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, emphasizing the stark, angular symmetry of her face. The most captivating feature, however, was the small beauty mark just under her right eye, adding a unique and striking contrast to her stern expression.

Opal felt a chill run down her spine as she assessed the stranger. There was something decidedly formidable about her, a quiet power that stood in stark contrast to the casual setting of the apartment. Who was she? And what was she doing here in Asami’s place? These questions raced through Opal’s mind as she scrambled to her feet, her initial shock giving way to a mix of curiosity and caution.

Then the woman crouched down to her level. Only then did Opal notice that the imposing figure was topless. She could see the swell of her breasts, and her chiseled abdomen. Opal shrieked, covering her eyes as she scrambled backward. “Pervert!! Get out of here or I’ll call the poli–mmmphh!” Rough hands quickly covered her mouth, and before Opal knew it, the woman had pinned her down.

“You insolent human! Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Iff shoub be dhe wun askin' you dat queschun!”

“What?” Opal shoved the hand away and spat, “I said, I should be the one asking you that!”

The woman growled. “I am authorized to be here, unlike you!”

“How are you authorized? Do you know Asami?”

The woman’s eyes slightly widened. “You know the Demon Queen?”

“Yes! She’s my best friend and she asked me to look after her place while she’s away,” Opal yelled. Then, as she stared into the woman's strange eyes, a realization dawned on her. They somehow resembled Korra’s. “Wait a minute. Are you… a demon?” she gasped.

With that, the woman stood up and moved to retrieve what seemed to be her clothes from the sink. “If you know the Demon Queen, I suppose you know Korra, too?” she asked, slipping into a crisp light green button-up.

“Yes. She’s Asami’s wife. And your Demon Lord.”

“Good. Then I don’t need to explain much.” The woman walked toward the living room in three long strides, slumping down on the couch and turning the TV on.

Opal followed and soon heard the sound of gunfire emanating from the show on TV. She stood in front of the demon, who looked visibly irritated at her presence. “I take it Korra asked you to be here, too?”

“No. Her annoying children were playing around and water whipped me. I asked Korra for leave, far away from them, and she approved of me staying here until the meeting is over.”

Opal raised an eyebrow. “Okay. I’m Opal.” She held out her hand.

The demon shook it reluctantly. “What is it with you humans needing to shake hands? No. Don’t answer.” Opal didn’t budge from her spot. “What are you doing? I’m watching.”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does matter, so I know what to call you. Or do you want me to keep calling you Ms. Bitchy-face?”

The demon growled, her patience thinning. “Fine. I’m Kuvira. Demon General One. Happy now?”

Opal smirked, satisfied with prying some information from the demon. “Kuvira,” she repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. She decided she liked it. “Nice to meet you. I hope we get along,” she said cheerfully before plopping down beside Kuvira.

Kuvira groaned internally. She hoped the meeting would be over soon, so she could be rid of the annoying human.

***

Korra rubbed her forehead, feeling the onset of a headache as the cacophony of voices from the human representatives and her generals drilled into her skull. The meeting had dragged on for hours with no solution in sight. Her proposals were met with skepticism from the human side, and now there was a heated debate about whether to proceed before setting up a meeting with the Higher Realm. They needed something concrete, after all.

“Are you okay, love?” Asami’s voice cut through the chaos, bringing a moment of clarity.

“I will be. I just don’t get why they won’t accept my plan. It’s a good plan,” Korra replied, frustration evident in her tone.

“Yes, it is. But I think they believe it’s going to take too long.”

“Well, that’s the point, isn't it? Change doesn’t happen overnight.”

“I know.” Asami paused, considering her next move. Without giving Korra a chance to protest, she turned to address the room. “Mina, was it?” The human representative nodded cautiously. “I understand your concerns about the timeline. You think this plan could take centuries, but I assure you, my wife’s plans are worth the wait.”

Mina shot her a skeptical look. “And why should I trust you? A human turned demon.”

“Because what we are proposing is a chance for you to eventually leave this realm. What are a few centuries compared to an eternity of hard labor here? We’re offering you hope, not just an endless cycle of toil. Trust in our plan, and you invest in a future where you can ascend, not just survive.”

“Alright. I’ll tell my people what the plan is and you can go ahead and set up a meeting with the Higher Realm,” Mina said.

“Thank you. We’ll get back to you, okay?” Korra said, relieved that the f*cking meeting was finally over. She could finally rest, likely play with her kids, or have alone time with Asami. Hope this works.

—

A few days later, the plan was finally polished, and they were ready to set up a meeting in the Higher Realm. Korra had the files that Asami had prepared for her. Speaking of her wife...

Korra noticed Asami had been fidgety, aloof, and often stared off into space. She tried to ask what was wrong, but Asami would insist she was alright. Korra attempted to pry through their mind-link, but Asami cut her off.

Then, on the day of the meeting, realization dawned on Korra. Asami was nervous about going to the Higher Realm; she might encounter her mother. Korra chided herself for not realizing it sooner.

“Asami, I’m sorry. If you want to back out, you can,” she said gently.

Asami shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Okay. If you say so.” Korra released a sigh. Honestly, she was also nervous. It had been too long since she had been in the Higher Realm. She wondered if people there would know her or recognize her. Perhaps the old bastards from the Council? And what about Hypatia? Oh, how she missed her friend. A pang of sadness hit Korra for having left her friend behind. Asami squeezed her hand, pulling her from her thoughts. Her wife’s support and strength flowed through her, bolstering her resolve. They could do this. For the good of both realms.

“Tenzin, we’re ready,” she called out, her voice steady, masking the tumult of emotions inside her.

A blinding light flashed before their eyes, and a gust of wind whooshed past as smoke or clouds billowed from the newly opened portal. Korra and Asami stepped through cautiously, emerging into the Higher Realm.

The realm appeared unchanged, timeless in its beauty. The Higher Realm was still awash in brilliant light, illuminating the lush green grass that carpeted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Majestic trees dotted the scenery, their leaves shimmering in the gentle light, creating a tranquil ambiance that seemed to hum with quiet life.

The air was fresher here, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and ripe fruits, a fragrance so pure it almost seemed tangible—a scent that Korra always described as ‘smelling like happiness.’ The sky was a vivid azure, unmarred by clouds, casting a warm glow that bathed everything in a serene, golden light.

By the look on Asami’s face, Korra knew she felt the same, maybe even more so. Before Korra could ask her wife about her thoughts, Tenzin manifested before them.

“Korra. Ms. Sato. Welcome to the Higher Realm,” he said, bowing. Korra didn’t give him much courtesy and merely nodded. When Tenzin noticed, he straightened his posture, clearing his throat. “Now, I wanted to give you two the tour, but we must not waste time. The Council is waiting.”

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Council Hall. Korra noted that it had maintained its simplicity, still resembling a typical human board meeting office. A long center table with the appropriate number of chairs, a water fountain for drinking, and a simple vase with a red flower at the center of the table. Guess the Higher Realm really is allergic to changes, Korra thought.

Tenzin gestured for them to sit on the left side of the head of the table, where he would sit, before opening a door behind them. The Council members entered the room, led by Tarrlok. Korra’s hackles raised at the sight of the man who never gave her a chance. If looks could kill, he’d be dead by now.

“Korra. Long time no see,” Tarrlok greeted, his voice tinged with a sneer that revealed his eternal dislike for her. It was surprising that a leader of the Higher Realm, supposedly a place of goodness, would harbor such a grudge. “I see you’ve changed quite a bit over the millennia.”

“Tarrlok,” Korra responded, her tone dripping with venom.

As the Council members took their seats, Tenzin introduced Asami to them. “Let’s begin,” he announced, signaling the start of the meeting.

Asami took Korra’s hand, squeezing it gently for support as she stood to address the council. She began distributing the carefully prepared folders. “Thank you for granting us this audience today. It has come to our attention that the human souls in the Underworld seek significant changes within the system. After much deliberation—”

“Ms. Sato,” Tarrlok interjected with a sharp tone, dismissing Asami with his gaze. “If this matter concerns only the Underworld, then why involve us? The souls in this realm are content. Perfectly happy.”

Tenzin intervened. “Councilman Tarrlok, please allow Ms. Sato to finish her presentation.” Tarrlok’s cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but he fell silent.

Korra rose, her voice carrying clearly across the room. “The relevance of this plan to the Higher Realm will become apparent if you peruse the information we’ve provided,” she stated calmly, waiting as the council members flipped through the folders. Gradually, brows furrowed and eyes widened in surprise among the assembly.

Tarrlok stood abruptly, his voice booming in the chamber. “A points system? Enabling ascension from the Underworld to our realm? This is preposterous!” His outcry found support among several council members, their murmurs of agreement filling the room. Yet, Tenzin remained silent, his expression contemplative.

Korra’s gaze swept across the room, meeting each member’s eyes as she continued. "We made this proposal not only for reformation but for rehabilitation and redemption. It is designed to integrate, to heal, not perpetuate segregation and punishment. Is this not in line with the principles we uphold?” Her question lingered in the air, a challenge to the very foundations of their governance.

She heard Tenzin hum thoughtfully as he continued to read their proposal, while Tarrlok simmered in his anger.

“Tell me, how will this work? The system is already perfect. Humans who did wrong are sent to the Underworld, and those who did remarkable, good things get to stay here in paradise,” the councilman insisted, his tone laced with skepticism.

Korra was losing her patience. “Why are you so afraid of change, Tarrlok?”

“Because change brings chaos!” he shot back, his voice rising with conviction.

The Demon Lord was ready to counter, but Asami beat her to it. “Councilman,” Asami began, her voice seething with cool venom, “Change does not inherently bring chaos. It brings evolution, progress. Our current system fails to recognize that humans can change, that redemption is possible. We are proposing a balance—a points system where redemption and transformation are recognized. By allowing ascension for those who demonstrate true reform, we maintain stability and encourage growth. Isn’t that the balance we seek in all thriving societies?

“Just look at the humans here. Do they truly seem content to you? As a former human, I can tell you that humans inherently strive for progress, for achievement. When that is taken away from them, it strips them of their purpose, their motivation. And you, as a divine being, might not fully grasp the depth of that loss.”

Asami’s words hung in the air, challenging the room’s preconceptions and urging them to consider a more dynamic, balanced approach to their age-old system. Korra couldn’t be more proud of her wife.

Tarrlok opened his mouth to object, but Tenzin swiftly cut him off. “It has been many years since our former Guide challenged our ways. We did not listen to her, and look where that has led us. Our human souls, especially those who have been here since the beginning of time, have deteriorated. I think it’s time we accept that something needs to change. Reading the Demon Lord and Queen’s proposal, I believe this could work.

“Under this new system, each soul will undergo a period of testing tailored to their specific actions and decisions during their mortal lives. Instead of an eternal sentence based on their initial assessment, they’ll be given opportunities to learn, grow, and demonstrate their true capacity for change. Over time, their progress will be evaluated, and if they show genuine improvement and understanding, and gather enough points, they can ascend to the Higher Realm.”

Tenzin paused, his gaze steady, as he continued to explain the nuances of the Higher Realm’s refined system proposal. “Furthermore, in the Higher Realm, humans will have a limited time here, a period during which they can pursue all that they wished for in life. Once they feel that they have fulfilled their desires and achieved a sense of completeness, they are given a choice.

“There will be a door through which those who are ready can pass. Crossing this threshold allows their soul to be reincarnated into their next life. This process respects the natural cycle of growth and renewal, acknowledging that even souls in paradise may aspire to new experiences and lessons in new forms.”

The room absorbed Tenzin’s words, contemplating on the idea, and a moment later, they nodded in agreement. That was all Tenzin needed. He banged his gavel and looked at Korra with a kind smile. “Then that’s settled. Korra, we will call upon you again in a week’s time. Will you pick the demons who will be your designers?”

Korra glanced at Asami, who was already looking at her with a supportive smile. “Yes. We will. Thank you, Tenzin, for finally hearing me out.”

“It’s the least I can do. Let me escort you out.” Tenzin led them out of the room, closing the door behind them. As they walked, Korra and Asami weren’t prepared for what Tenzin would say next, “Ms. Sato, would you like to meet your mother?”

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

To say that Asami was nervous was an understatement. When she agreed to Tenzin’s question, she never thought it would make her such a mess—a nervous mess. For a long time, Asami had believed she would only ever see her mother in her memories, forever buried in the recesses of her mind. She never believed in the concept of heaven or hell, but Korra had upended that belief. However, meeting her mother had been out of her mind with all that had happened. It seemed, though, that luck or fate was on her side.

“Hey.” Korra’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” she replied.

“Understandable.”

“It’s just…” Asami hesitated, then shared what was on her mind, having turned off their mind-link for the moment. Korra took her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze, signaling that she was there for Asami, no matter what. Before Asami could even reciprocate, the door opened. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Ms. Sato, are you ready?” Tenzin asked as he entered the room. When Asami nodded, he pushed the door wide open, revealing his companion. Her heart raced as she laid eyes on the figure stepping through the doorway.

As the door swung open, Asami’s heart stopped for a moment. There, just as she had always remembered, stood her mother—Yasuko. Her hair was as dark and wavy as the last day Asami had seen her, her green eyes as piercing and full of warmth. She wore a simple pink blouse and black dress pants, looking every bit the vibrant spirit that had filled Asami’s childhood with laughter and love.

For a few seconds, neither spoke. They simply looked at each other, a myriad of emotions passing between them. Then, almost as if drawn by an unseen force, Asami rushed forward. They embraced tightly, tears streaming down both of their faces. Yasuko held her daughter like she might never let go, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Oh, my sweet girl, how I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Mom,” Asami managed to say through her sobs. “There were so many times I needed you, so many things I wanted to tell you.”

Yasuko stroked her daughter’s hair, pulling back just enough to look at her face. “Tell me everything, my love. I’m here now.”

Asami laughed softly, despite her tears. “I’m the CEO of Future Industries now, just like I always dreamed. Just like I promised you. And Dad... you should have seen his face when I took over. He was so proud. He misses you terribly, Mom. We both do.”

Yasuko’s eyes filled with both pride and sorrow. “I’m so proud of you. And I miss him too, every single day. You two were always my world. Now, come on. Tell me more about your life.”

Asami took a deep breath, the reality of sharing her world with her mother again grounding her. She spoke of her challenges and triumphs, weaving the tale of the years apart, filling the space between them with stories and laughter. Her words painted a picture of a life well-lived, marked by resilience and success, all under the watchful gaze of a mother’s love that had never truly left her.

As her story ended, Yasuko held her tightly, then pulled back to look at her daughter, “I’m glad you’re happy, my love.” The conversation paused as they simply held each other, savoring the reunion they had both longed for. After a moment, Yasuko noticed the swell of Asami’s belly. Her eyes widened with a new joy. “And what’s this I see? Congratulations, sweetie. How far along are you and who’s the lucky guy?”

At her mother’s question, Asami blushed in embarrassment at realizing where she was and that she had companions. Clearing her throat, Asami glanced over her shoulder, her hand reaching out to Korra, who stepped forward. “I’m six months along. And no guy. But I did manage to catch the biggest fish in all the worlds. Mom, meet Korra. The Demon Lord.”

Yasuko’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her gaze flicking between Asami and Korra. After a moment, her expression softened into a warm, understanding smile. “The Demon Lord, huh?” She extended her hand to Korra. “Well, that’s quite a catch indeed. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Korra, usually so confident and commanding, blushed slightly under Yasuko’s amused gaze. “The pleasure is all mine, ma’am.”

Yasuko chuckled softly, clearly delighted by Korra’s reaction. “Please, call me Yasuko.”

Asami watched the exchange, a sense of relief washing over her. The initial shock had given way to acceptance and warmth, and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in this room, her two worlds had met, and the harmony between them felt like the closing of a circle she hadn’t realized was open.

Tenzin intervened, his voice gentle yet firm. “I hate to break such a happy reunion, but time is of the essence. Korra, we need to plan our path toward a new future for the good of all the realms.”

“Alright,” Korra responded, her tone reluctant yet understanding. She turned to Asami, her eyes softening. “I’m going to go with Tenzin. You can stay here and catch up with your mom. Call me when you’re done.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you,” Asami replied affectionately.

“Love you, too.” Korra kissed her before stepping out of the room.

Asami turned her attention back to her mother, who wore a sly smile. “So, tell me all about her,” Yasuko said, her curiosity piqued, eager to learn more about the person who had captured her daughter’s heart.

***

Korra’s heart swelled at the sight of Asami and her mother. She always cherished watching her wife, but seeing Asami’s face light up in conversation with Yasuko made Korra fall in love all over again. She stepped back, giving them space to enjoy their reunion.

“Korra!” Tenzin’s irritated voice snapped her back to reality. “How can the other members of the council take you seriously if you’re spacing out like that?”

“Huh, oh. Right. Where were we?” Korra replied, a blush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. One glance at her surroundings and Korra remembered that they were currently in Tenzin’s office.

“We are planning who will spearhead the first simulation and selecting the candidates.”

“Yes. So,” Korra regained her composure, her expression turning serious, “I’m thinking my demon generals numbers three to six can take the lead on the first simulation. We’ll call it ‘Project SimOne’. It will involve four human souls placed inside an ‘Ideal World’. We’ll erase their memories of being dead and thrust them into situations where their moral compasses are tested. I want your team to design these compasses. They should tally points. After one year, we’ll total their points, and if they pass the marks, they will be free to ascend to the Higher Realm.”

Tenzin hummed, looking proud of her. “This is a great idea, Korra. I am confident that with you at the helm, this will succeed.”

Pride surged in Korra’s chest. She hadn’t realized how much she had longed for his approval until that moment. Standing a little taller, she smiled at the man who was once her mentor. “Thank you. I am one hundred percent confident this will work. Asami helped me come up with this concept.”

Nodding, Tenzin flipped to the next page of the proposal. “And the proposal for the Higher Realm? When do we start?”

“We can start immediately. But you must be the one to create the door through which the souls will pass. Tenzin, you’re the only one I trust with this door,” Korra said seriously. The distrust she harbored for the Council members, especially Tarrlok, gnawed at her; there was something unsettling about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Alright. How about the simulation?”

“We can start after Asami gives birth.” Korra smiled wistfully at the thought. In less than three months, they would welcome another child, and their little family would grow again. However, the prospect of this massive project dampened her spirits slightly. Kova, Yassy, and Koda all needed them now more than ever. The thought of being away from them for extended periods was troubling. Looks like I’m going to need to delegate. Maybe I should ask Kuvira to oversee things while I’m with the kids.

“That is fine by me. We shall discuss further once you’ve finalized the details of the simulation you want for the Underworld souls,” Tenzin agreed.

They rose from their seats, and that was when Korra noticed a movement in the corner of her eye. There, outside the window, was her old friend, Hypatia. Tenzin caught Korra’s glance and understood immediately; he nodded, silently giving her permission to go outside. Grateful, Korra slid open one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and stepped outside. “Hypatia!”

The woman turned around, her face blank, then returned to sipping her drink—a milkshake?, it seemed—staring vacantly ahead. The sight was unsettling. After millennia of inactivity, it appeared her mind had deteriorated into mush even more. This reinforced Korra’s resolve to succeed with the project. But for now, she took a deep breath and sat beside her old friend.

“Hello. I’m Korra. What are you doing here alone?”

“Oh! Hello. I’m Hypa-, Haypuh— Just call me Patty,” she giggled, her demeanor oddly light.

Korra smiled, but her eyes remained somber. “Nice to meet you, Patty. What are you doing here alone?” she asked again, her tone patient.

“Oh, right! Nothing. Just enjoying my milkshake. You wanna try? It’s made from stardust!” Patty exclaimed, pushing the milkshake toward Korra, who flinched as the straw came uncomfortably close to her mouth.

“Woah, hey.” Korra chuckled nervously. “Thank you,” she said, accepting the milkshake from Patty. She took a tentative sip and was surprised. It really tasted like stardust, ethereal and effervescent, unlike anything she remembered from her time here. They didn’t have this while I was here, she thought ruefully. Shaking her head to refocus on her real purpose, Korra handed the drink back to her friend. “So, Patty, do you remember your life before you came here?”

“Hmm,” Patty hummed, her expression thoughtful. “Not really. Something to do with numbers?”

“Yes, that’s right. You were a mathematician before. And an astronomer, and a philosopher, too!” Korra encouraged.

“Wow. That’s amazing! Wish I could be like that, too,” Patty marveled, her tone wistful.

Korra smiled, taking her hand. “You will be again. I’ll help you get back to what you were before. You can think about numbers again because you’ll have a finite amount of time here. Tenzin will explain everything.”

“Who are you again?” Patty asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

“I’m a friend. And I’ll see you again,” Korra assured her, squeezing her hand gently before standing to leave, leaving her old friend pondering the promise of a renewed life.

—

“And Mom, one time, Kova and Yasuko got sick. We didn’t know what to do and panicked,” Korra overheard Asami narrate enthusiastically to her mother.

“But what really happened?” Yasuko leaned in, just as eager to hear the rest of the story.

“Well, we rushed them to the hospital, but even the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with them. That’s when Korra suggested we consult the Underworld’s healer. Turns out, the twins were just teething!”

Sweet laughter filled the room, one voice deep and another the familiar melody of her wife’s laughter. Watching them, Korra’s heart warmed; she had never seen Asami so radiant with joy.

She was about to leave them to their conversation when Asami caught sight of her, her smile broadening even further.

“Korra! I was just telling Mom about the time the twins were giving us so much trouble.”

The Demon Lord chuckled. “When have they ever not caused trouble?”

“You have a point,” Asami giggled. “How’d the meeting with Tenzin go?”

“It’s good. We ironed out some details.” Korra then briefly shared the essence of the plan.

“Sounds good,” Asami said, her smile fading slightly.

Korra understood her concern. Their time in the Higher Realm was coming to an end. “Babe,” she said tenderly, “you can stay here a bit longer. Talk to your mom as much as you want.”

“Thank you, Kor.”

A new idea struck Korra like lightning. “Or, maybe we can get your mom to help.”

“How?” Asami looked intrigued.

“Yasuko, you were an architect when you were alive, right?”

“Yes? Why?” Yasuko’s interest was piqued.

Instead of answering directly, Korra turned to Asami, sharing a knowing smile. “Mom, the plans we’re making… we need an architect!”

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

Ever since she was a child, Yasuko had dreamt of creating a better world for those like her—those without money or a home. She envisioned a place where children wouldn’t have to worry daily about what they would eat.

Growing up in the Dragon Flats borough of Republic City, Yasuko had no fond childhood memories. The streets were filled with children whose parents, including her mother, were either absent or too engrossed in gambling their money away on mahjong. Yasuko survived by begging for alms in the city’s upper districts. Some days she returned home with a full purse; other days, she came back with an empty stomach and bruises covering her body. She did whatever was necessary to survive, even stealing a loaf of bread from a kind baker—who, she realized in hindsight, knew of her thefts but chose not to report her to the police.

During her teenage years, Yasuko was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to attend Republic City High School. Although it was a public school, she faced disdain for coming from the lowest social class. On the third day of class was when she met a boy named Hiroshi—a model student and a nerd who instantly caught her eye with his amber eyes visible beneath his spectacles, his cute nose, and shy smiles. Yasuko initially tried to stay away from him, deducing from his clothes that he came from a well-to-do family. However, as she observed him over time, she learned his name, and she noticed that he was often alone, always engrossed in a book, and somewhat of an outcast—just like her.

Driven by curiosity, Yasuko eventually decided to approach him. One day, she sat down across from him during lunch break. He yelped, snapping his book shut in surprise.

Since then, Hiroshi Sato avoided her at all costs.

Despite his avoidance, Yasuko Matsunaga didn’t give up. If her years surviving the harsh Dragon Flats borough had taught her anything, it was persistence. She continued to engage Hiroshi daily, until one day, he snapped, telling her she was annoying and disrupting his studies.

Stunned by his words, Yasuko realized she had become overbearing— a bully. Apologizing for her behavior, she stepped back, respecting his space. She thought she would never see him again.

Yet fate had other plans.

Luck was on her side when she earned a scholarship to Republic City University. Breathing a sigh of relief, Yasuko seized the opportunity to change her destiny by pursuing a degree in Architecture, the field she had dreamt of since childhood. She attended her classes diligently, fully committed to her studies.

One hectic morning, as she rushed to class after caring for her sick mother, she collided with someone. “Sorry,” she began, freezing as she looked up into a familiar face—it was Hiroshi, equally surprised. He became taller than her now, but still lanky, still wearing the same glasses he wore in their high school days. Recovering from shock, Yasuko took this chance to apologize not only for the collision but for her past behavior. Hiroshi smiled, reassuring her that it was all in the past and suggested they start anew as friends.

Their friendship blossomed as they discovered shared classes between her architecture and his engineering courses. Over time, their relationship deepened, gradually blurring the lines between friendship and something more. When it became clear that Hiroshi was too shy to make the first move, Yasuko took the initiative. After inviting him on a date and attempting to pay for their coffee, Hiroshi insisted on paying, marking the start of their beautiful relationship.

After four years, Yasuko graduated with flying colors, ready to transform her dreams into reality. However, her path was not smooth. Despite applying to numerous prestigious architecture firms, her background often hindered her progress. Rejection after rejection took its toll, and though Hiroshi offered support, Yasuko was determined to succeed on her own terms, just as she always had.

Yasuko’s savings from her scholarship allowance were dwindling rapidly. She was struggling to cover bills and buy food, while also giving money for her mother’s supposed medical expenses. However, it became painfully clear that the money was likely fueling her mother’s gambling habits rather than paying for any real needs. After two months of failing to hand over money, her mother coldly kicked her out, showing more resentment than concern. With nowhere left to turn, Yasuko swallowed her pride and sought Hiroshi’s help.

He and his family welcomed her into their home with open arms. Staying with them made Yasuko feel part of a family for the first time. They weren’t wealthy, as she had initially thought when she first met Hiroshi, but they had just enough to get by day by day. Grateful for their support, Yasuko vowed to repay them someday, but they dismissed the idea. “Family doesn’t owe family,” Hiroshi’s mother had told her, a statement that moved Yasuko to tears that night. Overwhelmed by the kindness she had never known, she cried, releasing years of repressed emotions, while Hiroshi held her throughout the night.

Afterward, Yasuko accepted his help more openly. Hiroshi recommended her to the architectural firm where he worked, though her hiring was not guaranteed; she would still need to prove herself. And prove herself she did. Her new bosses were impressed by her skills, and she was officially hired.

For a few months, everything seemed perfect. She had steady work, a dependable income, a loving boyfriend, and an even more loving surrogate family. Yet, something was missing. She felt restricted at the company, drafting house plans dictated by her superiors rather than bringing her own visions to life. She wasn’t making the impact she had dreamed of. She wasn’t changing the world.

One night, lying in bed with Hiroshi, she voiced an audacious idea: “What if we took out a loan and started our own company?” Hiroshi initially looked at her as if she had lost her mind. And perhaps she had. But she knew Hiroshi’s potential wasn’t being fully utilized either. His own innovative designs were overlooked by their bosses. She wanted more for both of them.

It only took a few days for Hiroshi to come around to the idea. Together, they crafted a business plan and visited bank after bank, seeking a loan. Rejection followed rejection. Discouragement set in, and Yasuko feared that maybe the world would always be cruel to people like them. She began to lose hope.

But then, as if by some twist of fate, an unexpected opportunity presented itself once again.

Hiroshi and Yasuko were enjoying a meal at their favorite noodle shack, passionately discussing Hiroshi’s latest invention: an automobile that operated on automatic transmission rather than manual. Yasuko reveled in hearing Hiroshi excitedly share his visions, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. It was a mutual admiration, as Hiroshi was equally captivated by Yasuko’s dreams and ambitions.

As Yasuko detailed her innovative ideas to revolutionize the housing industry by lowering the cost of materials, their conversation caught the attention of a man in a black suit. He approached their table, apologizing for eavesdropping but admitting that their discussion had intrigued him. He introduced himself as a businessman interested in both of their ideas. He candidly expressed that Hiroshi’s automotive concepts seemed more immediately profitable and offered to fund his startup business. Though flattered, they were cautious—Yasuko’s upbringing in a rough neighborhood had honed her instincts not to trust too hastily, fearing he might be a scammer.

After careful consideration and consultations with their supportive families, they decided to take a risk. Hiroshi contacted the businessman, and they quickly signed a contract for him to invest in their new venture.

Thus, Future Industries was born.

The name perfectly encapsulated their mission to pave the way for innovative changes in both housing and transportation, driving forward into a new era of technological and architectural advancements.

Yasuko led the architecture division, applying her visionary ideas to create sustainable, affordable housing. Hiroshi, naturally, took charge of the engineering department, focusing on developing his groundbreaking automatic transmission vehicles.

Hiroshi’s innovation in automatic vehicles was an immediate success. The popularity of his designs fueled the burgeoning reputation of Future Industries. And the good news didn’t stop there.

A few months after the company’s sales began to skyrocket, Yasuko discovered she was pregnant. She shared the news with Hiroshi, who was overjoyed at the prospect of fatherhood and eager to start their family. Driven by their excitement, they decided not to wait and got married as soon as possible.

Despite her pregnancy, Yasuko remained deeply committed to her project on low-cost housing. She spent long hours negotiating with suppliers, seeking ways to reduce material costs. The work was grueling, filled with stress and sleepless nights. Concerned for her health and the baby’s wellbeing, Hiroshi urged her to take it easier. “I’m on the brink of a breakthrough,” she would insist stubbornly. However, it wasn’t until she was hospitalized after a close call with the pregnancy that she finally agreed to slow down. By then, she was six months along.

Three months later, Yasuko gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Holding their daughter for the first time, Yasuko felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment—far surpassing any satisfaction she had derived from her professional achievements. This profound moment reshaped her priorities; she resolved to put her family first before returning to work. Balancing her career with family life proved challenging at first, but with Hiroshi’s unwavering support, they found a rhythm that worked for them, ensuring that Yasuko could nurture both her family and her career.

Life with baby Asami brought a new kind of joy and challenge to Yasuko’s world. Each day was a discovery, watching her daughter grow and explore with wide-eyed curiosity. Yasuko often found herself marveling at the smallest gestures—the way Asami’s tiny hand grasped her fingers or the bright, infectious giggles that filled the room when Hiroshi played peek-a-boo. Despite the demands of her career, Yasuko cherished these early mornings and quiet evenings with Asami, knowing that these moments were fleeting. She documented everything, from Asami’s first steps to her first words, determined not to miss a beat. On weekends, the small family enjoyed quiet outings to parks, where Yasuko would sketch her family while watching Hiroshi play with Asami, her heart swelling with love. These precious times not only deepened Yasuko’s resolve to make the world a better place for her daughter but also grounded her, reminding her daily of the reasons behind her hard work and dedication.

When Asami was three, Future Industries was at the pinnacle of success, and Yasuko finally completed her dream project. She returned to Dragon Flats borough, only to find that little had changed since her childhood. The government had continued to neglect this part of town. But Yasuko was determined to change that.

Now financially independent, she purchased the land from the government. Then, she gathered the local residents to address their concerns. “I know you’ve heard that Future Industries bought this land. But rest assured, you will not be left homeless. We plan to renovate and develop the houses so that you all have better living conditions,” she announced. When someone accused her of being selfish and expressed worry about having to pay rent, Yasuko reassured them, “The rent will be affordable, and Future Industries is expanding. We’re hiring for our factories and warehouses, and you are all welcome to apply. There will be training, fair salaries, and benefits.” For those uninterested in factory work, she offered seminars on livelihood programs, like soap making, to provide alternatives to begging and other street crimes they were forced to do.

It took hours, but eventually, the community gave her a chance. Yasuko smiled, grateful for their trust, feeling a step closer to realizing her dreams.

Yet amidst the crowd, she felt a pang of emptiness. She scanned the faces, searching for her mother, but she was nowhere to be found. Then, an unexpected figure approached her—the baker from whom she had stolen as a child. Yasuko immediately apologized, promising to repay him tenfold, but he simply shook his head and smiled.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, his words bringing tears to her eyes, especially what he said next, “Your mother… she didn’t make it.”

Yasuko expected to be overwhelmed by grief at the news of her mother’s passing, but instead, she found herself grappling with a confusing emptiness. She had braced herself for a deep loneliness or piercing sadness, yet what settled in her was a hollow, numb sensation. Somewhere along the years of distance and hardship, the ties that bound her emotionally to her mother had frayed and thinned. It wasn’t the sharp pang of loss she had expected; instead, it was a subdued, numb realization that perhaps she had been mourning her mother in small increments all her life—each moment of neglect, each absence, had been a small goodbye. This realization left Yasuko with a complex mix of relief and guilt—relief that she was no longer burdened by the hope of reconciliation, and guilt for feeling this way. Standing amidst her achievements in Dragon Flats, she recognized that her true sense of family had shifted, anchored now in the life she built with Hiroshi and Asami.

It took almost a year for the transformation of Dragon Flats borough to be complete. As the community came together to celebrate, people around her clapped and expressed their gratitude. Yasuko felt a profound sense of pride. Her journey had only just begun.

Over the years, she had transformed two more impoverished communities into self-sustaining, safe environments. The local government even named her “Woman of the Decade” for her contributions. Yasuko’s reputation was flourishing, but with each accolade came a price—new challenges and, inevitably, enemies.

Asami, now six, was beginning to shadow her mother closely. One day, while Yasuko was in her office reviewing blueprints for a new skyscraper, Asami entered, asking for crab noodles. Busy with a deadline just two days away, Yasuko gently suggested her daughter go to her father instead. But Asami, ever curious, stayed, peppering her mother with questions. “What’s a skyscraper?” she asked.

Smiling, Yasuko paused her work to explain. “It’s going to be the Sato School for Architecture and Engineering.”

Asami’s eyes lit up with wonder. “Can I help build it someday?”

Overwhelmed with love, Yasuko called her secretary to clear her schedule for the day. “Today, we build the future together,” she declared.

She was glad to have done so.

A few days later, Yasuko was working overtime alone in her office. Hiroshi had gone home to take care of Asami. She was finalizing the blueprints when her office door burst open and three men in ski masks stormed in, brandishing guns. They demanded she halt her low-cost housing projects, claiming it was harming their benefactor’s business. They offered her a hefty sum to comply.

Yasuko refused and discreetly dialed 911, trying to stall them. But one of the intruders caught on to her actions. The next thing she knew, she awoke in a brightly lit room. At first, she thought she was in a hospital. But as her senses returned, she noticed the office-like setting: she was seated in a pristine white armchair; the room was tastefully decorated with a few ferns, and the table before her bore no marks or clutter, reflecting the room’s meticulous upkeep.

Her contemplation was interrupted by the door to her left swinging open. A tall bald man stepped in and then sat on the office chair behind the table. “Welcome, Yasuko Sato. For your great contributions to the world, I welcome you to the Higher Realm.”

The realization hit her like a wave. She was dead.

Days passed, and Yasuko found herself consumed by worry. She had left behind her young daughter and Hiroshi; the thought of their distress weighed heavily on her. Were they safe? Had the people responsible for her death been brought to justice? With no way to know, she spent days in tears, tormented by her helplessness.

As time moved inexorably forward in the Higher Realm, Yasuko began to let go of her worries. Months passed without any sign of Hiroshi or her little angel, leading her to believe they were safe in the land of the living. This small comfort allowed her to begin focusing on her new existence.

Yasuko spent her days in the Higher Realm making connections with souls who had performed great deeds in their earthly lives. However, she quickly noticed that many souls, especially those who had been here for centuries, seemed listless, frequently offering her milkshakes that tasted like stardust. She politely refused—milkshakes were never her thing.

To keep her mind active, she sketched continuously—houses, landscapes, and often, Hiroshi and Asami, terrified that their faces might fade from her memory.

She lost track of time until one day, Tenzin visited her quarters with unexpected news. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, your daughter will be visiting soon,” he announced.

Yasuko’s hand trembled, causing her pencil to drop. No. If Asami was here, it could only mean one thing—that her little angel was dead. Seeing the horror on Yasuko’s face, Tenzin quickly reassured her with a smile, “It is not what you think, Mrs. Sato. Asami is alive and well. She is coming for a visit in two days. You’ll see.”

With that, he left her to absorb the news. The days leading up to the visit were filled with nervous anticipation. How long had it been since her death? How much had Asami changed? What was her life like now? These questions haunted Yasuko as she awaited the visit Tenzin had cryptically described. What exactly did he mean by “visit”?

As the door swung open, Yasuko’s heart leaped. Standing before her was Asami. Her little angel was no longer a child but a grown woman, each feature finely etched with the passage of unseen years. Staring into Asami’s face, Yasuko felt like she was looking into a mirror. The resemblance was uncanny—Asami looked just like her, reflecting not just her features but the resilience and strength Yasuko had always hoped to pass on.

As Yasuko spent time with Asami, learning about the woman she had become, a pang of guilt and longing tugged at her heart. She had wanted to be there for her daughter, to guide her through life’s challenges and watch her blossom into her own person. She had dreamed of witnessing Asami become a powerful force in the world. The realization that Asami had become one of the most powerful women in the world without seeing it was bittersweet.

And her grandchildren! Yasuko couldn’t believe she had missed the birth of her grandchildren. Each joyous revelation was tempered by a stab of regret. She had to ask Tenzin if she could visit Asami when she give birth. She had to be there.

Asami, sensing her mother’s mixed emotions, reached for her hand. “Mom, there’s something else I think you should know.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “The people who... who were responsible for what happened to you, they’ve been caught. They faced justice.” Asami’s voice was gentle but firm, offering a piece of news she hoped would bring her mother some peace.

Yasuko absorbed this new information, a complex mix of relief and sorrow washing over her. It was comforting to know that justice had been served, yet it reopened old wounds briefly. She sighed, grateful for the closure but sad that it changed little about her current existence.

She supposed everything had turned out well, after all. Hiroshi had done a remarkable job raising Asami on his own. Oh, Hiroshi. Yasuko missed him terribly but hoped it would be a long time before she saw him again. She wanted nothing more than for her husband to enjoy a long, fulfilling life.

As their conversation unfolded, Yasuko felt a profound loneliness knowing their time together was drawing to a close. She didn’t want to part with Asami again, not now when she had been given this miraculous chance to reconnect.

Then, fate stepped in once more.

Hearing Korra’s suggestion sparked a new sense of purpose in Yasuko. She was invigorated by the hope and potential of the project Korra proposed, and she accepted eagerly. Yasuko was determined to create the finest neighborhood for their initiative, aligning with her lifelong dream to change the world for the better. But now, her ambitions extended beyond her own realm; she aimed to improve all realms.

After Tenzin arranged for a drafting table at her request, Yasuko began to sketch with renewed vigor. Armed with her architectural expertise and fueled by a profound motivation, Yasuko Sato was on a mission once again.

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

It was finally time.

A couple of months had passed since Asami had given birth to the newest addition to their family. Their baby boy, named Hiro, was being doted on by his grandmother Yasuko. When they told Hiroshi about the name, he had bawled his eyes out, overwhelmed with emotion and pride. Their children were currently with him.

Now, Korra found herself in a room with Tenzin, Tarrlok, another Council member whose name Korra forgot, P’Li, Yasuko, Asami, and the humans’ representative, Mina. Kuvira was taking the reins of the new technology that Asami had developed, combined with Yasuko’s meticulously designed neighborhood. Korra was nervous. The chatter around her faded into the background as she reflected on the progress they had made.

She had tasked her demon generals #5, P’Li, and #6, Ghazan, to interview the human souls who had the lightest punishments and to profile everything they had ever done in the Upperworld. After extensive brainstorming, they determined which humans would be put into groups of four for their first test run. Ensuring transparency, they made sure the humans knew what was going to happen. Mina, their representative, had agreed to the rules.

The humans’ memories of being dead and their time in the Underworld would be wiped clean. They would be placed into a carefully constructed simulation to test their capacity and their will to do good. After a year, an accountant from the Higher Realm would calculate their points, and those who passed would be welcomed into the Higher Realm. Those who failed would remain in the Underworld for eternity.

The simulation was being created in the Underworld, utilizing its vast, endless expanse to provide an unlimited space for their experiment. This allowed for an expansive, dynamic environment where the human souls could be tested in various scenarios without any spatial constraints.

Recognizing the need for seamless collaboration between the Higher Realm and the Underworld, Tenzin and Korra had agreed to establish a permanent portal that could be accessed by authorized demons and guides. These individuals would wear a thumbs-up pendant pinned to their clothes as a sign of their authorization to move between realms.

Inside the simulation, a team of demon and Higher Realm guide actors was assembled. These actors would integrate into the environment, interacting with the human souls and presenting them with moral dilemmas and opportunities to demonstrate their growth and character. Their roles were crucial in ensuring the simulation felt real and immersive.

Korra glanced at Asami, who gave her an encouraging smile. Drawing strength from her, she took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Alright,” Korra began, her voice steady despite the nerves. “Let’s get started. Kuvira, could you give us an update on the simulation setup?”

Kuvira nodded and stepped to the center of the room, activating a holographic display that showed the simulated neighborhood. “Her Grace’s technology allows us to create a completely immersive environment. Each house, each street, has been designed to mimic the Upperworld perfectly. The humans would be comfortable in there.”

Yasuko pointed to a section of the display. “We’ve integrated my designs here, focusing on creating a community that encourages interaction and moral decision-making. The setup is such that their choices will have visible impacts on their surroundings.”

Korra nodded, satisfied. “And the humans we’ve chosen?”

P’Li stepped forward, holding a tablet. “We’ve selected four individuals based on their profiles. These are people who showed potential for good but were hindered by their circ*mstances. Mina has ensured they understand the stakes.”

Tenzin chimed in, “It’s important that this process remains fair and transparent. They need to have a genuine opportunity to show their true nature.”

Tarrlok, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, his tone dripping with skepticism. “I still find it hard to believe that this project will yield any real results. The idea of using simulations to test morality seems flawed at best.” He sneered slightly but continued, knowing he had no power to stop the project. “But I suppose we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”

Korra shot him a look but chose not to engage. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. “Alright then, let’s launch Project SimOne.”

As the team moved to their respective stations, Korra glanced at Asami one more time, receiving a reassuring nod. She turned back to the display, ready to take the leap into a new era of redemption and transformation.

Kuvira’s voice echoed in the room, “Commencing Project SimOne, in three, two, one…” He clicked on the dials on the console, and the screen whirred to life.

There, beyond the screen, lay Yasuko’s creation—a breathtaking expanse of verdant fields that stretched endlessly, their lushness inviting and serene. Houses of varying sizes dotted the landscape, each unique yet harmoniously integrated into the community. Shops of different natures lined the cobbled streets, from quaint bakeries emitting the enticing aroma of fresh bread, to bustling markets alive with the vibrant colors of fruits and vegetables. It was like a leveled-up version of the Upper Realm, a place where every detail had been meticulously crafted to evoke a sense of wonder and possibility.

The sky above was a flawless canvas of blue, punctuated by the occasional drift of cotton-like clouds. Birds sang sweet melodies, their songs blending with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. The air itself seemed to shimmer with potential, a tangible manifestation of hope and renewal.

Korra took a deep breath, her heart swelling with awe at the culmination of their ideas. It was now coming to life. Finally, the change she had longed for was materializing before her eyes. She glanced at Asami, who was already looking at her, smiling proudly at their achievement. Their shared vision had brought them to this moment.

Korra’s attention was drawn back to the screen as a smooth “ding” resonated through the room. The scene changed. They were now looking at Ryu, the human soul who had once been indifferent to everything, slowly waking up. He was seated on a comfortable two-person couch, his expression one of mild confusion. The door to his right opened, and Zaheer stepped out, his smile welcoming and warm.

“Hello, Ryu. I’m the architect. Welcome to the Higher Realm,” Zaheer greeted.

Ryu blinked, his mind gradually processing the unfamiliar surroundings. The room he found himself in was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting that bathed the space in a gentle glow. The walls were adorned with serene paintings of nature, and a subtle scent of blooming flowers filled the air, enhancing the atmosphere of tranquility. However, he didn’t spare any glance at them at all. “So… Am I dead?” he asked straight to the point.

Zaheer chuckled, “That is right. You, Ryu Uzumaki, are dead. Your life on Earth has ended, and you are now in the next phase of your existence in the universe.”

Ryu blinked, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh. Whatever. But…” He put his hand under his chin, thinking. “How did I die?”

The pretend architect smiled, a twinkle of amusem*nt in his eyes. “You slipped on a banana peel while trying to chase down the ice cream truck. Quite the dramatic exit.”

Ryu shrugged again. “Cool. So, what do I do here?”

Zaheer explained, “You can do anything you want in here. This is paradise. But most importantly, you need to get along with your neighbors. Now go, mingle with them.”

Ryu gave a casual nod and left the room, heading out into the vibrant, inviting world that awaited him.

After giving three more souls an introduction, Day 1 of Project SimOne officially began. Korra observed the humans as they interacted with the demons and guide actors, each playing their parts flawlessly.

Just as planned, Zaheer led the newly arrived souls to an open area, stepping up to a podium to address them. He spoke with an authoritative yet calming presence, explaining the purpose of their new environment. Korra had to admit, her demon general was excellent at playing the role of a divine figure. His voice alone carried a conviction that made the simulation feel entirely real.

As the scene unfolded without a hitch, Korra finally released the breath she had been holding. She glanced over at Tenzin, who seemed to be experiencing the same relief, as he visibly relaxed.

“Well, I’ll be,” Kuvira suddenly said, turning around from her seat and smirking at Korra. “You really did it.”

Korra smiled, shaking her head modestly. “We all did it,” she said, gesturing to everyone in the room. She addressed them, “Thank you for all your help.” Taking her wife’s hand, she continued, “Now, we can rest for a bit. I’ll send in Mako and Bolin to help you here.”

Tarrlok approached her. “May I stay for a bit? I’d like to observe some more.”

Korra was skeptical about his request, but since her other demon generals would be here, it was only fair to let the Councilman stay. She nodded to Tarrlok, acknowledging his request. “Okay,” she said simply, but not without glancing in Kuvira’s way. Her most trusted general caught her drift and gave her a subtle nod.

As the team began to disperse, Korra and Asami took a moment to themselves. The weight of the day’s success and the promise of what lay ahead hung in the air, a testament to their collective effort and shared vision.

Korra turned to Asami, squeezing her hand gently. “It's really happening, isn’t it?”

Asami nodded, her eyes shining with pride and affection. “Yes, it is. And it’s only the beginning.”

***

“Ah, yes! Yes! Korra, f*ck, right there!” Asami screamed at the top of her lungs as Korra plowed into her.

Since they had returned from the simulation room, the Demon Queen had wanted her wife all to herself. Korra was irresistible, especially after a victory, albeit a small one. But alas, they had to talk to her mother first, then go home to their apartment, and lastly, tend to their children until they fell asleep.

Now, feeling Korra’s powerful thrusts, Asami couldn’t help but dig her nails into her wife’s thick skin. She had always loved doing that when she was human, but she had wanted to mark Korra with her nails and had been unable to do so because of her tough demon skin. Ever since becoming a demon, she could now finally do so. And it was a bonus that Korra loved being marked by her.

“f*ck, Asami. You’re so tight. I love your puss* when it gets greedy like this,” Korra growled in her ear.

“Yeah?” Asami moaned, squeezing her puss* tighter. “Good, ‘cause I love your co*ck, too. So hard for me and me only.”

Their dirty talk only made them f*ck harder and faster, the bed creaking under the weight of their lovemaking. The intensity between them grew, each thrust deeper and more desperate.

They climaxed together, Asami’s c*nt milking Korra’s co*ck for all it had, feeling it empty into her depths. She savored the sensation of being filled by her wife, even though they had agreed Korra’s seed would not be “active.” Their brood was already big enough. For now.

As their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed, they lay entangled, basking in the afterglow. Korra gently kissed Asami’s forehead, whispering, “I love you. I’m glad we finally got the project running. I hope it works for all of our sakes.”

Asami heard the subtle doubt in Korra’s voice. Having the strongest faith in her wife, she nuzzled closer and replied, “I love you too, Korra. And yes, it will work. All our plans are laid out. Zaheer is doing great, and as Mom told us, the humans in the Higher Realm are happy again. They’re going to be their old selves in no time.”

“Okay. You really know what to say. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Korra said, kissing the top of her head.

Asami chuckled. “You’d probably still be a grumpy demon lord.”

They lay there in silence until Asami remembered something important she needed to ask her wife. “Korra? Future Industries’ annual gala is coming up in two weeks. I know we haven’t had time to buy you some new clothes, but can you spare some time so we can go shopping this weekend?”

Asami wasn’t sure how Korra would react. Her wife knew little about fashion and shopping, and taking time away from Project SimOne made Asami feel a bit guilty. But Korra’s wide grin reassured her.

“Of course!” Korra replied. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Don’t worry, love. Kuvira can hold down the fort.”

Asami snorted, knowing Kuvira’s tendency to get snappy when duties were neglected, even briefly. The general still made snide comments about Asami’s work ethic whenever she was in the Underworld. “Kuvira’s going to be pissed.”

“She will be, but I know just the thing to get her to agree.”

“What is it?” Asami asked, curiosity piqued.

Korra looked her in the eye, communicating through their mindlink, a mix of mirth and seriousness in her expression. Asami gasped. “No way! How did you know? And why hasn’t Opal told me about it?” The revelation was scandalous! Her best friend was banging Kuvira and she didn’t know?

Loud laughter filled their room as Korra enjoyed Asami’s reaction. “Remember that one time where the kids were in the Underworld and Kuvira volunteered to housesit?” Asami nodded. “Well, I can smell Opal all over her. She tried to deny it, but no one escapes my keen senses,” Korra explained when she finished laughing.

“Wow. It made sense. I need to get Opal to talk about it sometime.”

—

Two weeks came and went quickly. Asami had been incredibly busy, juggling multiple responsibilities. From managing her twins’ tantrums, to fulfilling her duties in the Underworld by accompanying Ghazan to interview human souls for profiling, and finally, preparing her company for the annual gala. Oh, and finally getting Opal to confess about her and Kuvira. She had little time to rest.

During those two weeks, Project SimOne had been smooth sailing. The human souls inside the simulation were quickly getting to know one another, and Zaheer had been impeccable in his role as the architect. With everything running smoothly in the simulation, Kuvira reluctantly agreed to let Korra go for a night.

Now, they were getting ready to head to Kwong’s Events Place.

Asami adjusted her dress in the mirror, ensuring every detail was perfect. The gown was a deep emerald green, accentuating her eyes and flowing elegantly to the floor. She wore her hair in loose waves, framing her face perfectly, with a pair of diamond earrings adding a touch of sparkle. Asami turned to see Korra struggling with a tie, a look of mild frustration on her face. Smiling, she walked over and stood on her tippy toes to help her wife, deftly tying the knot with practiced ease.

“You look stunning,” Korra said, admiring Asami in her elegant gown. Her eyes roamed appreciatively over Asami’s figure, taking in every detail.

Asami blushed slightly under Korra’s gaze, feeling a warmth spread through her. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” she replied, smoothing down Korra’s suit jacket. Korra’s attire was a tailored navy blue suit that fit her perfectly, highlighting her strong, athletic build. The rich navy color complimented Asami’s emerald green dress beautifully. A crisp white shirt and polished shoes completed the look, making her appear every bit the powerful yet refined Demon Lord. “Ready to impress?”

Korra chuckled. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go make an entrance.”

They headed out, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. The car ride to Kwong’s Events Place was filled with light conversation and shared smiles, both of them savoring the rare moment of calm before the grand event.

As they arrived at Kwong’s Events Place, the grandeur of the venue took their breath away. The building was adorned with twinkling lights, and a red carpet led up to the grand entrance. Inside, the gala was in full swing. Guests in dazzling attire mingled beneath opulent chandeliers, their laughter and conversation filling the air. The decorations were lavish, with floral arrangements and elegant drapery adding to the sophisticated ambiance. Asami thought her secretary had done a fantastic job hiring the best events organizer in the entire Republic and made a mental note to give the woman a raise.

As soon as the guests saw them, they were quickly surrounded, voices asking questions all at once.

“Who is this stunning woman with you?”

Asami smiled, pulling Korra closer. She looked up and asked through their mindlink, “I’ll tell them now?”

Korra gave her a lopsided smile. “Sure,” she replied.

Asami turned back to her employees and guests. “Everyone, this is my wife, Korra Sato.”

“Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you all,” Korra said with a winning smile.

A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ filled the open space, and they all clamored to ask their questions.

“Where did you meet?”

“Who is she?”

“Why haven’t we heard of her?”

With practiced lines, Asami recounted their invented story, “Well, we met during my college days. She helped me through a lot. I mean, a lot. She helped me against my bullies.” At least that part was true, she mused. “We just clicked, you know. Korra has always had this magnetic personality. She works as a crisis management consultant. Her job takes her to the most dangerous and challenging situations around the world, helping to resolve conflicts and protect vulnerable communities.”

Asami continued, weaving in the truth about Korra’s real identity in a subtle manner. “She’s incredibly skilled at what she does, and her ability to remain calm under pressure is unparalleled. It’s almost as if she has this otherworldly strength and wisdom. It’s no wonder we fell for each other.”

Asami turned to Korra, her eyes softening. “I cherish every moment with you,” she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion. “From our quiet evenings together to the way you always support me, no matter the challenge. I love you with all my heart.” Her public declaration of her love for Korra was met with cooing and congratulations from everyone who surrounded them.

But for Korra… Even though they had rehearsed what they were going to tell people, she still blushed furiously that it became obvious even with her tan skin. She could feel the sincerity in Asami’s words and it made her heart swell with affection. “I love you, too.”

The guests seemed to buy the story, their curiosity momentarily sated. After they finished answering every single question, the power couple made their way to the food area. Asami noticed her wife already drooling over the food spread.

The banquet table was laden with a variety of exquisite dishes. There were succulent roasted meats, including a whole roast duck glazed to perfection, and a carved beef tenderloin with a rich, aromatic herb crust. An array of seafood was presented on ice, from freshly shucked oysters to plump shrimp and delicate crab claws. Elegant platters showcased an assortment of sushi and sashimi, while another section boasted an impressive cheese board with selections from around the world, accompanied by an assortment of artisanal breads and crackers.

A colorful display of fresh fruits and vegetables created a vibrant centerpiece, with exotic fruits like dragon fruit, kiwi, and starfruit arranged artfully beside crisp, refreshing salads. For dessert, a selection of delicate pastries, decadent chocolate truffles, and a towering fruit tart tempted the guests. Asami could see Korra eyeing the food with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, ready to dive into the feast.

Asami chuckled, nudging Korra gently. “You look like you’re ready to devour the entire table.”

Korra grinned, her eyes twinkling. “I sure am thinking about it. But can you blame me? Everything looks amazing.”

Asami laughed softly, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. “Yes. They do look amazing. Come on!”

At the buffet table, they met Hiroshi. Asami’s face lit up when she saw her father, and she embraced him warmly. “Dad, it’s so good to see you!” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Hiroshi returned the hug with a smile. “It’s great to see you too, sweetheart, even though it’s only been a month,” he replied amusedly, then turned to Korra. “Korra, always a pleasure,” he said, giving her a firm handshake and a pat on the back.

“Likewise, Hiroshi,” Korra responded warmly.

Hiroshi glanced around, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, where are the kids tonight?”

Korra explained in a whisper, “They’re currently in the Underworld. We can’t risk them accidentally showing their powers here. It’s safer for everyone.”

Hiroshi nodded understandingly, clapping Korra’s shoulders. “That makes sense. You’re always thinking ahead.” Then he turned back to Asami. “Congratulations, sweetie, on another successful year. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Asami replied, her heart swelling with pride and love. “By the way, Mom says hi.” Asami’s heart lightened as she saw her father blush like he was back in their college days.

Once they were seated at their table, the program began. The master of ceremonies took to the stage and welcomed everyone, outlining the evening’s events.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Future Industries Gala. Tonight, we celebrate another year of innovation, success, and community. Without further ado, please join me in welcoming Asami Sato to the stage for her speech.”

Asami stood up, smoothing her dress as she approached the podium. She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room filled with familiar faces and supportive smiles.

“Good evening, everyone,” she began. “Thank you all for being here tonight. It’s truly an honor to stand before you and celebrate the incredible achievements we’ve made together over the past year. Future Industries has always been about pushing boundaries, embracing innovation, and creating a better future for all of us. None of this would be possible without the dedication and hard work of our amazing employees, the unwavering support of our partners, and the trust of our loyal customers. I am deeply grateful to each and every one of you. Your commitment and passion drive us forward every day. Let’s continue to strive for excellence and make the world a better place, one innovation at a time. Thank you.”

Asami’s speech was met with enthusiastic applause. She returned to her seat, her heart full of gratitude and pride.

Soon after, the music began, signaling the start of the dancing. The lights dimmed slightly, and a soft, melodious tune filled the air. Couples made their way to the dance floor, swaying gently to the rhythm. Asami turned to Korra, a playful smile on her lips. “Shall we?” she asked, extending her hand.

Korra grinned and took her hand. “I’d be honored,” she replied. They made their way to the dance floor, joining the other couples as they began to sway. Korra took the lead, bringing Asami’s right hand into her left while her other hand rested on Asami’s waist, pulling them close.

“Korra, I have something to say,” Asami murmured.

The Demon Lord tilted her head. “What is it? Have you changed your mind and want another baby?” she teased.

Asami playfully slapped Korra’s shoulder. “No, not that. It’s just… when we met, at first, I thought I was unlucky. Why me, of all people, did those cultists choose to sacrifice? But now… This may sound absurd, but I feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

“How so? They almost killed you just to summon me.”

Asami nodded, resting her head on Korra’s chest, her cheek nestled against the soft fabric of Korra’s suit jacket as they danced in their own little world. “I know. But if they didn’t take me, then I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t have experienced this love that I’m feeling and the love that you’re giving me. I wouldn’t have seen my mother again this soon. It’s all because of you, love.”

Korra let go of her right hand, wrapping her now freed hand around Asami’s waist. She felt her wife lean down, continuing to sway as Korra tightened her embrace. “You wanna know what I think?” Asami merely nodded. “I think that even if you hadn’t been kidnapped by those cultists, we still would’ve met.”

Asami’s brow furrowed in confusion. “That wouldn’t be possible. You’d never willingly come here to Earth.”

“Well, maybe I’d get bored and transport here. Maybe we’d meet in a coffee shop while you’re studying, or you’d run me over with your moped,” Korra argued lovingly.

Asami shook her head lightly against her wife’s chest, her gesture affectionate rather than argumentative. “Still, those are what-ifs. I’m glad that we got to where we are now. All of the things we went through, the good things and the bad… I wouldn’t change them for the world, Korra. And I’m glad we’ll be together forever. Literally.” That elicited a bout of laughter from both of them. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, so much, Asami. When this first test run is successful, and I know it will be, what do you say we go on a vacation? Just the two of us?”

“Sounds perfect,” Asami replied, looking Korra in the eyes, her heart full and her smile radiant.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Day 258 of Project SimOne, and everything was still running smoothly. If Korra had a say, which she did, she would say it was going along perfectly.

They had observed significant changes in the personalities of the human souls, especially Ryu’s. He was no longer as nonchalant as before and often became the first to help an actor, whether demon or guide, when they needed “help.”

The other soul with him, an elderly woman named Hou-Ting, had also undergone a dramatic transformation. Initially, she had been selfish and narcissistic, always trampling over others to get her way. However, after enduring numerous trials and tribulations within the simulation, she gradually changed. She had become more empathetic and considerate, showing genuine concern for the well-being of others. It was a remarkable shift that had surprised even the most optimistic observers.

The simulation was proving to be an extraordinary success, not only in its technical execution but also in its ability to influence and transform the very essence of the human soul.

Korra was excited. No. More than excited at finally reaching Day 365. They would prove to all that they could change millennia-old system and finally get the validation she had ever wanted.

—

Day 365. It was finally the day. The Project SimOne committee had all gathered in the simulation room—Korra, Asami, Kuvira, Yasuko, Tenzin, Tarrlok, and the Accountant. The tension in the air was palpable, almost a living thing. Korra’s heart raced as the Accountant calculated the final results. She couldn’t help but fidget with her hands as the numbers on the screen scrolled up, digits flickering and changing with a mechanical hum that filled the room.

Asami noticed Korra’s anxious fidgeting and took her hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be alright, Korra. We’ve seen their changes. I’m sure they will pass.”

Korra smiled softly, trying to absorb Asami’s calm. “Okay,” she exhaled deeply, feeling the air rush from her lungs like a balloon deflating.

As the numbers continued to climb, so did Korra’s elation. Each increment was a heartbeat, a pulse, bringing them closer to their goal. The room was silent except for the sound of the scrolling digits, and every pair of eyes was glued to the screen. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Just a few more and they’d pass the threshold. But suddenly, the numbers stopped just before reaching the target. A huge red number blared on the screen, stark and unforgiving.

“What the hell?!” Korra exclaimed, her voice a sharp crack in the silence. “What the hell happened? Why didn’t they pass?!” Her fury was immediate and visceral. She grabbed the accountant’s collar, lifting him slightly off the ground as he yelped in fear.

“I-I don’t know! I just counted the numbers, please don’t hurt me!” the accountant pleaded, his voice shaking. Around them, the others moved to intervene, holding Korra back from striking him.

“Korra, please calm down,” Asami said, gripping Korra’s wrists firmly yet gently. Her touch was a tether, grounding Korra’s spiraling emotions.

Tarrlok interrupted, his voice a sneer. “See? It doesn’t work. Humans will never change, therefore it’s futile and a waste of time.”

“No,” Korra growled, her eyes blazing with determination. “I know they can do it. We should try again.”

Korra’s world narrowed to the pounding of her heart, the feel of Asami’s hands on her, and the bitter taste of disappointment. She could feel the stares of the others, heard the muffled rustling as they shifted uncomfortably. The air was thick with a mix of anxiety and frustration, pressing in on her like a suffocating blanket.

Korra’s breath came in short, sharp bursts as she struggled to maintain control. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls inching closer with every passing second. She could hear the hum of the machinery, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the background, the collective breath of the people around her. It was overwhelming, yet all she could focus on was the crushing weight of their failure displayed in those damning red numbers.

Asami’s hands tightened around her wrists, a gentle reminder of reality. Korra looked into her eyes, seeing the unwavering support and love there. It was enough to bring her back from the edge. She exhaled slowly, the tension slowly ebbing from her body.

“Tenzin,” Korra began, her voice steady with conviction. “I know they can do this. Maybe we can add more guides instead of demons, I don’t know. But let’s try.”

“No,” Councilman Tarrlok opposed vehemently. “This just proves that this experiment is a failure. We should pack up and leave everything the way it was.”

“Hmmm,” Tenzin hummed, stroking the length of his beard thoughtfully. He then looked at Korra. “Alright.”

“But Ten–”

Tenzin cut her off, raising his hand, but not unkindly. “We shall try again with different situations than before.”

“Thank you, Tenzin.” Korra smiled, grateful for the second chance. This time, she was determined to prove that the experiment could succeed.

—

Yet, it did not.

A year later, the numbers remained red. Korra couldn’t believe it. This can’t be happening, Korra thought, her heart sinking with each passing moment.

Tenzin looked sad, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Tarrlok smirked evilly, saying, “I told you. We should go back to the way we were before.”

Yasuko approached Korra, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Korra.”

Korra remained staring at the screen even after everyone had left her to wallow in her misery. It was impossible. It should not be possible for these humans to change so drastically but still not pass the threshold. There must be something wrong. Somewhere, somehow, she would find it. Her mind raced as she replayed every detail of the simulations, searching for any clue that could explain the failure.

Determination flared within her. She refused to accept defeat. This was more than just an experiment; it was a testament to her belief in finding a new way for human souls to experience the afterlife. She clenched her fists, a newfound resolve taking hold.

“I will find the flaw,” she whispered to herself, her voice echoing in the empty room. “And I will succeed.”

—

So, Korra tried again, and again, and again without the permission of the Higher Realm. Year after year, she tried and failed. Kuvira got tired, as well as her other demon generals. So Korra took over. Asami had tried to coax her to rest, but she wouldn’t. Not until the screen flashed green.

Still, the screen flashed red.

“Rargh!” Korra slammed the side of her fists onto the console, rattling it and everything in the vicinity. The room seemed to vibrate with her fury. Why? Why hadn’t it changed? Her whole body was shaking with anger and frustration. She could not accept these results, but she couldn’t find the fault anywhere either. Korra had looked at every nook and cranny of the system, but it still eluded her.

Soft, gentle hands slid up her shoulders, wrapping soothingly around her. “Love, I know it hurts, but I think you should give this some rest. And maybe after a few weeks or months, we can look at it from a different angle.”

“No. I will not rest until I find that flaw!”

“Korra,” Asami said, her tone bordering on finality. “It’s not just about you. You’ve been doing this for five years. Our kids have grown and you barely even have time to see them anymore. I barely see you. They miss you. I miss you.”

Korra’s eyes burned as she snapped back, “Well if it weren’t for this faulty system, I wouldn’t be stuck in here trying to find the solution to this problem! Oh, wait. Maybe it’s not the humans or the simulation. Maybe it’s the machine! This… this console you made! Maybe you didn’t put in enough effort in making this!”

The instant the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Asami’s soft expression turned cold, colder than the deepest part of the Underworld. The air between them seemed to freeze, the atmosphere charged with a suffocating tension.

“If that’s what you really think,” Asami said, her voice icy and controlled, “then I think it’s best the kids and I stay in the Upper Realm until you get yourself together.” With that, Asami turned around, slamming the door shut behind her, the sound echoing like a thunderclap in the silent room.

Korra stood there, staring at the door, her mind reeling. The weight of what she had just said, and the realization of what she had done, crashed down on her like a tidal wave. She felt the anger drain away, replaced by a hollow ache in her chest. The room felt emptier without Asami, the cold, sterile light of the monitors casting harsh shadows around her. She sank to her knees, her fists still clenched, tears of frustration and sorrow spilling down her cheeks.

The simulation continued to hum softly in the background, oblivious to the turmoil in Korra’s heart. She had lost sight of what truly mattered, and now, she was alone to ponder the consequences of her relentless obsession.

***

“Mom! Is Sire coming home today?” Yassy asked from the office doorway, rubbing her eyes from waking up so suddenly.

Asami’s heart clenched with a mix of emotions—hurt, empathy, and anger. It had been a week since she took the kids back home from the Underworld, but it had been much longer since they had truly felt Korra's presence. She had thought that after their outburst, Korra would follow them back to the apartment. But she was wrong. Her wife’s stubbornness seemed to outweigh the love she felt for her family.

In the meantime, Asami worked tirelessly, juggling her job and caring for the kids with her father’s help, while venting her frustrations to Opal. She knew the importance of Korra’s project— their project. But understanding its significance didn’t make the loneliness any easier.

Five years. Five long years had passed, with Asami raising their children alone. She had become a pillar of strength, managing every scraped knee, every bedtime story, and every tearful night without the comfort of her wife by her side. Asami had done it all, from discovering Hiro liking to paint, to taking Koda to his favorite park, and guiding Yassy and Kova with their powers, all while dealing with her own heartache and the children’s questions about their absent sire.

With a sigh, Asami stood up from her desk and wrapped her daughter in a tight, warm hug. “I don’t know, sweetie. Your Sire is very busy right now, and—”

“But she’s always busy! She promised to teach me and Kova more techniques with our powers, but she never did. Ever since she took up that stupid project, she’s been cooped up in the simulation room and never has time to train or play with me and Kova and Koda and Hiro anymore!”

“I know, sweetie.” Asami’s heart ached to ease her daughter’s pain and worry, but she felt powerless to change Korra’s behavior. Korra herself needed to be ready to reconnect with them. If Asami pushed her wife too hard, it might lead to another argument.

An argument they hadn’t had since... Asami couldn’t even remember if they had ever fought before— and no, the situation in the Fire Nation did not count. They had always been a united front, supporting each other through every challenge. Now, that unity felt like it was slipping away.

“But what do you say Mommy takes a day off tomorrow and we all head to Grandpa’s house and play?” Asami suggested, trying to mask her own uncertainty with a smile.

“Really?” Yasuko’s smile was hopeful.

“Really.”

“Yey! Goodnight, Mommy!”

Asami watched Yassy scamper off, her heart momentarily lightened by her daughter’s joy. But as she sat back down, her mind wandered back to the times when she and Korra had been an unbreakable team, facing every challenge together. Project SimOne was important, she knew that. Yet, as Korra buried herself in her work, Asami felt their family slipping through her fingers.

She knew the stakes were high. The first tests had failed, even when the human souls showed promise. Korra’s dedication was admirable, but it came at a cost. Asami only hoped that cost wouldn’t be their family’s happiness.

—

Asami jerked awake, her eyes fluttering rapidly to fend off the clutches of sleep. Her heightened senses, ever-alert since becoming the Demon Queen, picked up on the faintest ruckus outside her room. She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand—it was three in the morning. What could be making that sound? Intruders?

Sliding out of bed, she slipped into her fluffy blue robe, the soft fabric a fleeting comfort against the cold reality of potential danger. She moved to the door with deliberate silence, her bare feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. The air felt charged, every creak and groan of the apartment magnified. As she walked down the hall, the source of the noise became clear—it was coming from the twins’ room.

Her heart pounded in her chest in panic, each beat resonating through her body like a war drum. She dashed down the hallway, her breath catching in her throat as she envisioned the worst. Bursting through the door, she prepared for a confrontation.

Only to stop in her tracks at the sight before her.

The dim light from the hallway cast a soft glow into the room, illuminating a scene of pure chaos and joy.

There, lying underneath a giggling pile of four children, was Korra. Her laughter was rich and contagious, blending with the high-pitched giggles of Yassy, Kova, Koda, and Hiro. The sound was a symphony of familial love, a stark contrast to the tension that had weighed on Asami’s heart.

“Korra?” Asami’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the joyful noise.

Korra looked up, her expression softening into a gentle smile. But as her eyes met Asami’s, they conveyed a deep-seated guilt, remorse, and an unspoken apology.

“Hey,” Korra said softly.

The giggling decreased, but Asami still felt her children’s elation at seeing their sire again as they all stood up from the floor. Asami took Korra’s biceps in her hands, helping her get up from the ground.

Asami looked up and saw that Korra was already staring back at her. Asami opened her mouth to speak, but Yassy’s squeal cut her short.

“Sire’s home! Sire’s home!! Kova, we’ll finally get to train!!”

“Yeah!!” Kova echoed, eyes bright with excitement.

Koda butted into the conversation. “What about me?”

Korra turned to him, her eyes softening. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll take you to your favorite park after our training.” A loud “Yey!” echoed in the room.

Then Hiro tugged on Korra’s pants, his big, green eyes filled with anticipation.

“You, too, Hiro. I’ll help you set up a paint set in your room tomorrow.” Hiro’s response was a toothy smile. A smile that resembled his sire so much, Asami’s heart melted.

“Alright, kids. Time for you to go back to sleep.” Asami ushered her children gently but firmly. A chorus of “Awwws” came from them, but one sharp look later, they all scrambled back into their respective rooms, their excitement still palpable.

Asami and Korra watched them go, a comfortable silence settling between them. As they walked back to their room, Asami felt Korra’s hand brush against hers. Once inside, Asami turned to Korra.

“Asami, I… I’m sorry,” Korra began, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry for being obsessive about the project. I’m sorry for neglecting you and the children for so long. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with and for you all. I’m sorry for bursting out like that. I’m sorry for taking out my frustrations on you. You didn’t deserve that, Asami. I’m sorry for saying that your console is faulty, and that you didn’t put in any effort. Me, of all people, should know how tirelessly you worked with your mom on it, and yet, I still spat those words like venom.” Korra’s body coiled with tension, her fists clenched at her sides. “And I’m sorry I didn’t come here sooner. I thought you needed space, but even if our mindlink was closed, I could still feel you hurting. But I’m a coward and didn’t want to show my face to you. I figured you were still mad at me. And—”

“I am,” Asami cut her wife off. Korra looked defeated, so Asami quickly followed up. “Korra, we’re supposed to do this together,” she gestured back and forth between them. Frustration built up inside Asami again. “We’re bound by blood and soul, but you shunned me off. You shunned our children off.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuse. And if you still want space, then say the word and I shall go to the Underworld and be back tomorrow for my promise to the kids.”

“But I forgive you.”

“Alrig—, what?”

Asami smiled at the dumbfounded look on the mighty Demon Lord’s face. “You heard me. I forgive you. But don’t you ever do that again, understand? Or I’ll send you to the depths of the Underworld for a millennia.” An empty threat, but it was still effective.

Korra nodded eagerly. “I promise, Asami. With all my heart.”

Asami’s smile was tender, then teasing. “And besides, I don’t want to be the cause of our children’s ire when they realize I sent you back down there.”

Tears welled up in Korra’s eyes as she approached Asami in one stride, pulling her into a hug that felt like the greatest embrace in all the realms. “I’m so sorry, Asami. I’ve missed you all so much.”

Asami could feel her wife’s body tremble as she hugged back as tightly as possible, breathing in Korra’s familiar scent. “I’ve missed you, too.”

They stayed that way for who knew how long, basking in each other’s presence, until Korra pulled them toward the bed. They plopped down, still clinging to each other. After a few seconds of silence, Korra spoke once more. “Maybe they are right.”

“About what?” Asami mumbled against the soft, yet tough skin of the Demon Lord.

“That there’s no fault or glitch in our system, and that the human souls really did not pass every single test we’ve given them.”

Korra sounded so defeated that Asami had to push herself up from the woman to look her in the eye. “No. We’re not giving up. There must be something there, Korra. That console and the system are perfect. Whatever it is, we’ll find it.”

“I know. You’re the one who made it, after all. Thank you, Asami.”

Asami smiled, closing the gap between them. It was so good to feel Korra’s lips on hers again. One chaste kiss turned into two, and then more. Chaste became passionate, their bodies heated. Asami turned her mindlink on, and Korra turned hers on, too. They knew what they both wanted, and they would take it.

Clothes were thrown across the room as their passion heightened. The only sounds that echoed in the room were their gasps, moans, and grunts as they tangled themselves together, their bodies moving with an urgency born of years of longing. In one swift motion, Asami hooked her leg around Korra’s hips, flipping them until she was straddling the Demon Lord’s chiseled torso.

“Take out your co*ck and let me ride it,” she commanded, her voice thick with lust and need. She would not be denied the feel of her wife’s body tonight. She had craved Korra’s touch for years, and she would make sure to take every inch of her in any way she could.

Asami’s possessiveness was palpable, her hunger for Korra’s touch undeniable. But beneath the raw desire, there was a deep, abiding love. Every touch, every kiss was laced with the years of separation and the intense longing that had built up between them. She could feel Korra’s emotions through their reopened mindlink—guilt, remorse, and an overwhelming desire to make things right, all mingling with an equally powerful need to reconnect.

Asami looked down at Korra, her eyes dark with desire. The look Korra gave her in return was the same—a mirror of her own possessive, hungry gaze. Yet, it was also filled with love and a silent apology, a promise to never let this much time pass between them again.

Their connection deepened as Korra reached between them, her hand trembling slightly with anticipation, lining her now-formed co*ck at Asami’s entrance. The Demon Queen’s breath hitched, her eyes locking onto Korra’s, feeling the intensity of their bond thrumming through every fiber of her being. She positioned herself, her body trembling with need, and slowly sank down onto Korra, gasping as she took her in.

Korra’s hands gripped Asami’s hips, guiding her movements as they found their rhythm together. Each thrust, each movement was a silent communication, their minds and bodies perfectly in sync. Asami could feel Korra’s love and desire, an overwhelming wave of emotion that brought tears to her eyes.

Asami leaned forward, her hands braced on either side of Korra’s head, hips moving back and forth, and whispered, “I’ve missed you so much.”

Korra’s eyes softened. “I’ve missed you too, Asami. More than words can say.”

They moved together, their bodies and souls entwined, each touch and kiss a reaffirmation of their love and commitment to each other. The intensity of their reunion built to a crescendo, their gasps and moans filling the room as they finally found their release together, their connection stronger than ever.

As they lay entwined, their breathing slowing, Asami pressed a gentle kiss to Korra’s forehead. “We’re together now,” she whispered. “And we’ll face everything together.”

Korra nodded, her eyes filled with love and determination. “Always.”