“Books may well be the only true magic.”

Drawing them gives me life

Day 6 of Zutara Week (@zutaraweek) 2022: Closeness

i present to you… Katara healing Zuko post-Agni Kai amidst a light drizzle of ash.

My last brain cell:

Art by @zarory, also on Instagram!

He’s usually up an hour before you, freshly showered with coffee brewing when your first alarm goes off and you roll over with a groan to turn it off.

20 minutes later, he’s waking you up with gentle fingers through your hair, kneeling by your side of the bed and waiting for your eyes to flutter open to tell you to get up.

You whine when he leaves, missing his touch but it’s not long before sleep is reclaiming you.

The next time he stirs you, his teeth are freshly brushed and his hair mostly dry, and he’s far less gentle. His heavy form lands on your hips as he straddles you, leaning down to press firm kisses over your face and shoulders, his fingers pressing into your waist.

You mumble promises about getting up, and he relents, pressing one last kiss to your neck before he’s gone again, grumbling under his breath about how you’ll be the death of him.

The final time he comes in, you hear him coming, still in bed but not quite asleep. The blanket is thrown off you suddenly and then warm hands wrap around your ankles. A second later you’re being yanked down the bed, a surprised yelp escaping you as your eyes fly open.

He pulls you down far enough that your thighs cage in his thin waist, chuckling at your expression when you gape up at him. He looks perfect in his hero gear, mask hanging loosely around his neck and his gauntlets no doubt waiting by the door.

He bends in half to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s more than enough to wake you up, and then he’s pulling back, your feet hitting the floor as he takes you with him.

He gives you one last fleeting kiss that has you wanting more and chasing his mouth before he’s disentangling himself from you.

He takes in the pout on your face and chuckles, forehead pressed against yours as he quietly warns you he started your shower and you should get going before the hot water runs out.

           Here is me trying out one of my favorite OTPs of all time. Forgive me if it isn’t the best as I am still trying to find my angle and do justice to these amazing characters. A mix of fluff and a bit of angst.

           He didn’t expect to be here. He was supposed to be laying in a shoddy tent he won from a fight, burrowing within himself for warmth, and falling into a fitful sleep listening to the shouts and roars of the Illyrian camp ground. He was supposed to be still a lowly foot soldier, a nothing, just another Illyrian bastard. He was supposed to be alone because Mor didn’t love him like that and a mate just did not seem to be a thing for a hot-headed bastard like him. He was probably supposed to be dead on a battlefield by now.

            Instead, he is laying in a comfortable bed he did not have to fight and bleed for, nestled against his beautiful mate for warmth, and now fell asleep to the sleeping sounds and gurgles of their newborn child in a bassinet within arms reach from him. Instead, he was in a position that mattered and he could make an actual difference.  Instead, he finally believed and proved to himself that he was someone, not just a bastard, especially when he had two people in this very room to live and fight for. Instead, he met the most fiery, astounding, awe-inspiring, gorgeous creature with a sharp mouth who now laid next him with her hand wrapped around him bicep in a possessive gesture that was his mate. His. Instead, his mate and he had made the most treasured and precious thing in his whole world who he knew would make the mountains move and even bow when she arose into her own. He could see it. He could picture himself, Nesta, and their daughter as a formidable force in the world for the better. No, he didn’t expect to be here.

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Nesta never pictured her life this way. She never would have imagined any possibility even close to this…but here she was. She no longer laid against her sisters in an old bed nor did she sleep alone with nothing but her own tormented lonely thoughts to exhaust her into sleep. She no longer had to be wrought with so much emotion she could barely contain in order to give herself and her sisters some, albeit unorthodox, stability and picture of strength. She no longer had to discard any sense of hope and settle for anything less than what she deserved. She no longer had to contain herself but instead give in to herself fully and unleash the full immensity of her heart and everything it carried.

             Nesta opened her eyes to look at the beautiful male next to her whose beauty really was both inside and even someone without sight could see on the outside as well. She realized he was awake and holding their newborn child in his large hands so delicately. Cassian looked at the tiny baby as if she was the most treasured and fragile thing in the universe. Her chest hurt with so much love for these two beings in her life as she took in the quiet scene and the best part was that she could say it now.

              “I love you.” Cassian looked at her in surprise as she revealed she wasn’t awake as he had thought. His eyes, one of her most favorite things to look at, softened and even began to glisten with unshed tears. “I love you too. I love you both so much.”

       Nesta lifted herself into a sitting position, carefully as she could without waking the baby. She folded her hands over his large shoulder, resting her chin on her fingers to look at their precious daughter.

“This isn’t where I thought I’d be.” He whispered quietly.

This was great to write! Hope you like how it turned out!

“I Know This” An Elucien One-Shot

         Relieved. Confused. Unsure. Overjoyed. Maddened. Hopeful. Elain had too many emotions running through her and trying to sort through them clearly was making her head hurt. She stood at a window looking out but not really seeing. Elain had asked Azriel to fly her to the house on the mountain where Lucien was temporarily staying after Feyre and his great escape from the Spring Court three days ago. Elain was overjoyed to have her sister back safely after four very long months but she couldn’t help that nagging thought, a thought she deeply hated, that resented her sister’s long awaited return only because Feyre was not alone. Lucien had been brought to the Night Court as her fellow escapee, rescuer, and new ally in the war against the King of Hybern. It meant Elain had run out of time to process the whole “You’re my mate” declaration…just another thing to get accustomed to in her new body, new world.

         She looked at the flower she accidently grew in her hand and sighed. A Begonia flower wove its way through her fingers during her worrying. Elain’s affinity to for nature had amplified from when she was mortal to now where she could grow, control, and even destroy any kind of tree, flower, grass, you name it. Due to this, she now tended to voice her thoughts unconsciously through different plants around her. Studying the Begonia in her hand, she huffed a short but humorless laugh as the Begonia stands for deep thoughts as well as caution. She stuck the flower in her hair, among the few others already placed throughout her day as she couldn’t find herself to throw them away or leave them on the ground to get crushed…not to mention, flowers are too pretty to not decorate herself with. 

             Squaring her shoulders, Elain followed the hallway to Lucien’s temporary quarters. She raised her hand to knock when the door flew open so fast she gasped in surprise. Lucien stood before her with wide eyes, looking excited but nervous. “Elain!” He greeted her with a small smile that she returned effortlessly. “Uh, please come in?” It was a statement but he said posed it as a question, due to his nerves at her presence she assumed.

        It was a simple bedroom with a large bed, a dark wood dresser, and the furthest wall was more window than wall revealing the beautiful night sky, a sight she had really come to appreciate during her stay here. Elain noticed he was barefoot in light pants and a shirt, his red hair a little messed like he was constantly running his hands through it. Her eyes followed to the bed which was rumpled and unmade.

        “Did I wake you? If so, I’m sorry and I can come at another-” Lucien waved her off from the door as she started for it.

        “No. No, I wasn’t sleeping. Finding it a bit difficult these days, honestly.”

        “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She truly was. They fell into a silence but saw Lucien open then close his mouth multiple times before finally pressing his lips together. He wanted her to initiate the conversation. So she did.

         “ I suppose that answers my question to how you are doing?”

          Lucien threw his hand behind his head and shuffled from foot to foot but kept his eyes on her, “I am struggling..” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I know…I know I am better here than the Spring Court. I know this.”

          Elain nodded but said nothing because while he was talking to her, it seemed he was also talking to himself to assure himself of his recent choices. Elain wondered if anyone has truly ever asked him how he was doing given what she was told of his complicated family history and Tamlin’s ‘friendship.’ He took her nod as the ‘okay’ to continue like it was permission, a fact that troubled her quite a bit.  

           Lucien padded over to the window and stood in the very position she was not very long ago. Unlike Elain, his gaze remained focused, not at the night sky but trained on her.

          “Tamlin is…was my friend. I believed I owed him everything for the rest of my life…but his choices of late with Feyre and the war are wrong. I know this.  I do not believe even after we escaped that he really sees that.” Another pause. “Elain how are you faring with all of this?”

           Elain smiled kindly at him and he automatically gave one in return. She really liked his smile. Elain found herself walking towards him, slowly but more sure with each step. Her hand tingled and without looking down she knew what flower grew. “I am struggling but even during the moments when I am struggling the most I know am better off here.”

        She was never this forward but she couldn’t help but see a familiar sadness in his eyes, a sadness she kept to herself because her sisters one common goal was to keep Elain safe and unharmed but unbeknownst to them, she did not come out of everything unscathed. She lived with sadness. She drowned with overbearing guilt. She burned with anger. She felt things just like her sisters. She recognized the pain and the guilt in Lucien and forgave him for his wrongdoings by her sister because she would be a hypocrite otherwise. There was no high horse but deep understanding.

         They stood no more than a foot apart when Elain lifted her hand carrying the delicate white flower and curled it behind Lucien’s ear. He stood completely still as to not scare her or in shock she did not know but she couldn’t help of graze her knuckles gently across his cheek and told him softly, “I know this.”