Note from the author (feel free to skip:)

Hello and welcome! This is a crossover story that has been stewing in my brain for longer than I can remember, and I've finally decided to write it down. Just so you know what you're getting into; all the main characters (Korra, Asami, turtles) are in their mid-twenties and everyone else is aged up accordingly. While many aspects remain canon, you'll note quite a few changes. The character of Korra is not canon and is my own version, as pictured in the story image. Master Splinter is also not in this story.

There are several interesting pairings throughout the story, and to be honest, I have not decided who the main character will ultimately end up with. Input is very much welcome! I hope you enjoy the angst, slow burn, enemies to lovers, and everything in between. ;)

Be warned that the M rating encompasses language, explicit sexual content, and violence.

Enjoy!

- Juicebox244

...

Korra leaned back in her chair as she sipped her fruity, yet pungent beverage. "Bolin, are you sure that's a good idea?" The good-natured lava bender was in the kitchen handling various bottles of spirits, pouring unspecified splashes of them into a large glass. "I don't think I feel like having to babysit you tonight," she added, lifting an eyebrow.

Bolin looked up at her with a small, slightly insulted pout on his face. "I can handle my liquor! Besides, I'm a grown man. I don't need you OR Mako to worry about me. Right, Mako?" He turned his burly body to look over to his brooding older brother with a wide grin.

Mako rolled his eyes. "The last time we all drank together, I found you crying on the porch about how Pabu will never know what it feels like to hold a woman's hand because he doesn't have thumbs." Asami, from the corner of the room, attempted to stifle a laugh with her hand.

Bolin protested, "that was a long time ago! And besides, it's not my fault that Wing and Wei kept refilling my glass with that super strong stuff they brought from Zhaofu." Korra huffed a soft laugh and took another sip of her drink, relishing in the company of her friends. So much had happened in the past four and a half years, it wasn't often that they all still got to spend time together like this. She glanced at the television where a Republic City News reporter was droning on about tensions getting higher in the city again between off-worlders and humans due to recent protests.

It had been about four years since it first started; the arrival of off-worlders to the Four Nations. Korra took a moment to marvel at how fast their assimilation had taken effect in their lands. Perhaps it was due to the desire of the people to maintain harmony and prevent any more divisive wars after the era of Avatar Aang, she thought.

Asami sauntered over to Korra and sat on the loveseat beside her. "I'm so nervous for tomorrow," she said quietly, so as not to let anyone else overhear. Korra looked at her best friend incredulously. "What exactly do you have to be nervous about? You're Asami-fucking-Sato." Asami gave a half eyeroll and looked down at her drink. "I just don't know what they'll think of me and my work, you know?"

It was true, Korra thought, that New York was not always so warm to outsiders. But as a hub for people of all walks of life to present and share their technologies, the gala tomorrow would be an incredible opportunity for Asami to launch Future Industries to new heights.

"That's why I'm going with you," Korra said, as she grabbed her friend's arm, "so that if you say something weird, I can smooth it over with all of my irresistible charm." She batted her eyelashes a few times for effect. Asami shot her an unimpressed look but couldn't help the corners of her mouth twitching upward slightly. "Anyway, tell those two not to get too messed up because we can't show up tomorrow looking horribly hungover if we want to win over all the tech bros at the gala."

Bolin had just taken a much-too-large swig of his "special" concoction and made a face like he had just swallowed a spider-moth. Mako looked at his brother, sighed heartily, and took a deep swig of his beer.

...

John Bishop's footsteps reverberated off the walls of his laboratory. He stopped in front of one of his experiments and peered into the glass, his own reflection intertwined with the creature's pained countenance. His stomach twisted slightly as he did so. "Bishop, I do hope you realize what an absolute pain it is to find formal wear as a being who quite literally does not have a body," Baxter Stockman started. "You might as well just put a bowtie around my eyeball and call it a day."

Bishop let out an annoyed sigh and stared down the professor. "Go tell someone who cares, Stockman." The man walked leisurely to another containment unit. "We've got bigger things to worry about. There will be a plethora of alien technology for show tomorrow and I need to make sure we... get our fill," Bishop said with a cold half-smile, his deep voice reverberating throughout the chamber.

Stockman, who was currently only a brain with a stem of sorts, rolled towards the man in his electrized scooter he had created for himself. "Perhaps you'll run across something that will finally help me get my body back." Bishop turned and glared at the brain. "You'll get your body back when you prove that you're worth a pair of arms and legs." Bishop started towards the elevator, intending to head to his room on the upper levels.

Since the beginning of the arrival of alien species to Earth, he had been busy beyond imagination with the Earth Protection Force ensuring that the off-worlders caused no trouble.
While some citizens of the United States welcomed the visitors, many were weary and even showed violence against the outsiders. Bishop had been working closely with the president to create new, harsh legislation that would give aliens as few rights as possible. But sometimes, he had to wonder if he was on the right side of this fight.