selenias | Femslash Drabbles - Legend of Korra (Reply)

Archiving more drabbles. 2014 - January 2015, originally published over at

Title: Summer Days
Author: lavendre
Prompt: #429 - better
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Pairing: Korra/Asami Sato
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 250

“Your way better at this than me. Seriously.”

Asami frowns and steps back from Korra, watching her too wide stance and the stubborn upward tilt of her jaw. It's hot out, it's summer, and Asami would rather have a fan blowing on her right now, but Korra's out in her backyard anyway, in a cami and some shorts a size too large throwing punches on the grass while Asami tries to show her how to incapacitate someone without completely rendering them of life.

Asami pulls her long hair out of her face and smiles. “Nonsense. You're in the process of learning.”

“Okay,” Korra reasons. “But you keep trashing me.”

She shrugs. “That's how you learn. If it makes you feel better I got thrown a lot when I was learning as a child.”

Korra frowns. “Honestly, it's hard to picture you getting tossed by anyone.”

Asami laughs and fixes the wraps around her hands, pulling them tighter in sections where they've come loose, and watches Korra do the same. “You'd be surprised,” she murmurs, thoughtful. She can still recall the taste of dirt, of being on the same level as everyone else, of lemonade in the gardens with her father patting her shoulder, reassuring, congratulatory. She swallows.

The sun is bright, the day is long. And then: “Remember, use your legs to slide. It'll give you the advantage of momentum.”

Korra's eyes glitter -- and she ends up with another mouthful of grass.

Title: Vanishing Point
Author:

lavendre
Prompt: #423 - stranger
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Pairing: Korra/Asami Sato
Rating: PG
Word Count: 250
[A/N]: Spoilers for episode two of book four.

This is the question that burns the most: is death still gripping you by the throat at night?

—And there are others that sit in her stomach still: why did the letters stop coming? are you well? are you sleeping? did you think of me at all? – but those are the selfish questions. Disregard them.

Asami has some self-restraint, she thinks. What a privilege.

She smooths down the creases in her skirt, clears her throat, and starts with the obvious one:

“Hey.” Asami's looking at the bandages on the bed, greased with hell. She's seen stranger things, but not much sadder. “Would you like some help?”

Korra cranks the faucet in the bathroom on. “No.” Get out. Crisp as a knife.

Asami kneads the knots in her palm.

“I missed you,” she says suddenly. “I thought about you a lot. I kept all your letters. I have a few that I never sent. Do you want to read them later?”

Korra's back hunches. Exhaustion drips from her even when the water doesn't. “I don't know. Do I? Should I?”

“Hey. You can be mad at all the people in the world that you want, but you don't get to be angry with me. I don't deserve that.”

“You're right.” Korra says simply. Ghost hands reveal themselves as an imprint on perfectly clear skin, wrapping like a scarf around her neck.

Asami is stone. “Yeah,” she says, “I am.”

Title: A Wide Berth
Author:

lavendre
Prompt: #434 - phone
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Pairing: Korra/Asami Sato
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 250
[A/N]: Sometime post book 4.

Korra's voice is hoarse when she answers the phone -- marred by sleep – and Asami feels guilt spread, because while she's restless, there's a time difference between Republic City and the secluded Air Nations, and it's only after the phone has made whistle noises in her shell-ears that she remembers.

"Did I wake you?" she asks softly. She can imagine Korra rubbing her eyes in the dim light of a glass lamp, corded phone cradled between clavicle/pillow/cheek -- an art she hasn't mastered, but adopts anyway. No one ever thought to tell the Avatar about landlines.

"Yes, but it's okay. Sorry for not calling."

"It's fine." And she means it.

"Mm. What are you working on?"

"Rough drafts for a prototype steam engine. The old ones need an upgrade. It's a commission from Watergate Corp."

"Good thing you're on it, Ms. Sato." Asami can hear the smile, the sleep deep and heavy on her chest.

"I miss you, Korra."

"I know. I miss you too. A couple more days," Korra whispers. "Everyone's fourteen and scared up here." Asami sympathizes; she knows what fourteen is like. "But they'll be okay. Not yet, but eventually."

Asami dog-ears a page of thin rice paper between manicured finger-tips on her office floor.

"A new noodle shop opened downtown. Do you want to eat there when you get back?" There's the distinct rustle of bedding.

"Yeah. Of course." Asami smiles against the cord, the wiring warm.

"Good,” she breathes, “I'll make reservations. Hold tight."