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81buttons · 2 months

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Haymitch's daughter falls in love with Finnick Odair while in the Capital

Of course no problem!

AN: I've decided to put a name to the main character in this story.

"A Light in the Darkness"

Finnick Odair x OC

summary: Where Haymitch's daughter falls in love and has a relationship with Finnick

As Finnick made his way through the training halls of the Capitol, he noticed a young woman with brown hair standing off to the side, observing the training sessions of each district representative. Intrigued by her presence, he approached with a charming smile.

"Hey, and who do we have here?" he said, his voice soft but full of innuendo.

Elara raised an eyebrow, regarding him with suspicion. "Finnick Odair, I presume?" she replied, her voice carrying surprising assurance for her young age.

"Oh, it seems someone did their research. Bravo, princess. What gave me away?" he teased.

"Your arrogant smile, I suppose," she responded, fluttering her eyelashes playfully.

If there was one thing Finnick particularly adored, as paradoxical as it may seem, it was someone who could hold their own against him. Accustomed to having all the women at his feet, he found it particularly enticing when a woman refused to be walked over.

"I see you know me, but darling, I still don't know your name," he said, inclining his head slightly.

Elara hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to give him her name. It was almost like making friends with the "enemy." It was already complicated enough as it was; Katniss, who had been chosen again, struggled with the idea of returning to the arena. It had been difficult enough the first time, so a second time… On the other hand, Peeta had not been chosen to participate in this new edition of the games; it was Haymitch, her father. When she heard his name come out of Effie’s mouth, her heart stopped, and then everything happened very quickly. Peeta approached, announcing that he was volunteering and Haymitch had to let the young man go in his place. After all these events and the press harassing the couple from District 12, Elara thought that it might not necessarily be a good idea to get closer to the others. After all, they were the games; they were adversaries, enemies. In the end, only one would remain.

However, in a way, it intrigued her, and she wanted to know more about the young victor. As long as he didn't really know who she was, there was no reason they couldn't talk.

"My name is Elara," she finally said.

Finnick nodded slightly in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Elara. I'm surprised it took me so long to meet you, such a charming girl."

Elara crossed her arms, unimpressed by Finnick's flattery. "I'm here to observe and learn, not to flirt with Hunger Games victors."

A smirk played on Finnick's lips. "I see. A woman with such a sharp mind is refreshing here."

"What, don't tell me you're not happy in the Capitol? You must have all the women at your feet," she teased.

Finnick froze for a moment, surprised by her direct question. "Oh yes, but I never lose sight of why I'm here," he said.

"To win," he finally replied, his blue eyes shining with a mixture of pride and a hint of sadness.

"I understand. Everything seems so normal and natural before we remember the true purpose of the games," Elara sighed. She had always known the games; they had taken too much from her: first her father, and now her best friend. She knew all too well the effect the games had on people.

Suddenly she saw her father in the distance, seeming to be looking for her. If he saw who his daughter was with, she was finished.

"Well, Finnick Odair, it was a pleasure, but I have to go."

"Already? But I don't even know why you're here, and when can I see you again?"

"We will see each other again, I'm sure. I'm really sorry, I have to go."

Then she left, leaving Finnick surprised, surprised by her and her vivacity, but surprised because he was smiling, and he smiled for several days in a row.

He wanted to see her again; he had to see her again. He wanted to get to know her. He didn't even know what she was doing. She had too strong a character to be one of the Capitol's women. So she must come from a district; was she also a tribute? If that was the case, Finnick didn't even want to think about it; he couldn't see or face her in the arena.

After several days, as he paraded on the chariot alongside the other tributes during the opening of the Hunger Games, his gaze suddenly fell on a familiar silhouette in the crowd. There, sitting next to the mentor of District 12, Haymitch, was Elara. Surprise and confusion gripped him. What was she doing there, among the spectators of the Capitol? And why was she next to Haymitch, the mentor of his adversaries?

For a moment, Finnick felt a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He scrutinized Elara with troubled intensity, trying to understand her presence there. Then, suddenly, everything became clear in his mind.

"Elara...," he murmured, his eyes widening with understanding.

A wave of realization washed over him. She was Haymitch's daughter. That's why she was there, to see the tributes from District 12 participate in the Games. Finnick felt a surge of emotion engulf him, mixed with an inexplicable warmth in the pit of his stomach.

Amidst the cacophony and hustle of the Games' opening, their gazes met, and in that brief moment, Finnick forgot all his fears, knowing there would be something more between them than he had initially imagined.

She was stunning, dressed in a simple white gown, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her attire had nothing to do with the Capitol's extravagant fashion, but she was naturally beautiful; Finnick had already noticed it during their first encounters.

After that event, their conversations became more frequent, and they found excuses to cross paths regularly. Sometimes, they would meet in a quiet corner of the Capitol, exchanging stories about their respective lives and laughing together as if they were the only ones in the world.

Although neither of them wanted to admit it at first, their relationship grew day by day, still in secret. Not a day passed without them talking, which began to intrigue Haymitch.

One evening, as they walked through the Capitol gardens, Finnick decided it was time to share his true feelings with Elara. "Elara, I need to tell you something." Elara looked up at him, curious about what he had to say. "What is it?" Finnick took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I feel something special for you, Elara. Something I've never felt for anyone else."

"Finnick…"

They both knew it wasn't possible for them to feel this way. Not now, not there, not like this. Time was running out; Finnick would soon have to face the ruthless challenges of the arena.

Elara lowered her eyes, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She knew their time together was limited, and every precious moment they shared would be a cherished memory she would hold onto.

"Finnick... You know what awaits you. You know you have to leave soon…"

Finnick nodded, his blue eyes locked onto hers. "I know. But I want you to know that these aren't just words, Elara. What I feel for you, I've felt it since the first time I saw you. Since I met you, I've started dreaming of a life after the Games, a life I never thought I could have. Even in the arena, I'll think of you. I know... I know it's the Games, and there's a good chance that…"

Elara bit her lip, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.

"But I have a goal to achieve, for you, to win for you."

"I'll wait for you." Finnick gently cupped Elara's face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I love you, Elara. More than anything in the world." Their lips met in a sweet, passionate kiss. And as Finnick prepared to face the horrors of the arena, he carried with him the memory of this pure and unwavering love, a bright light in the darkness that awaited him.

#finnick odair #finnick x oc #fanfiction #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #haymitch daughter #fluff #love

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missrosiesworld · 4 months

Text

Embraced in the Shadows

In the shadowy streets, Elara and Pinocchio tread cautiously, their senses heightened by the lurking danger. The growls of puppet dogs echoed ominously in the distance, a grim reminder of the threats hidden in the darkness. With each step, Elara's alert gaze scanned the surroundings, wary of any sudden movement.

Pinocchio, a remarkable blend of metal and mechanics, kept a watchful eye over Elara, his unique capabilities allowing him to detect danger with uncanny precision. His deep blue eyes, reflecting the night sky, moved ceaselessly, surveying their path for potential threats.

The growls grew louder, the unmistakable sound of puppet dogs drawing near. Elara's pulse quickened, the realization of their pursuit sending a chill down her spine. In an instant, Pinocchio's mechanical arms wrapped around her, his grip firm yet gentle. He swiftly guided her towards a nearby building, seeking a haven from the imminent danger.

Once inside, the confines of a narrow hallway offered temporary shelter. Pinocchio's intense gaze never wavered from Elara, his face etched with concern and resolve. "Be careful," he whispered urgently, his eyes softening as they met hers. His commitment to protecting her was evident in his every action, a silent pledge.

Keeping her close, Pinocchio pressed her gently against the door, his desire to maintain their intimate connection clear. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture that, despite the urgency of the situation, was tender and caring. Elara, feeling the security and warmth of Pinocchio's embrace, looked up into his eyes, a mixture of gratitude and concern etching her features. The closeness in the confined space of the small room heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Thank you, Pino," she whispered, her voice steady despite the underlying tension of their situation. The threat of the puppet dogs loomed outside, reminding her that they were far from the safety of Hotel Krat. Her hand reached up to gently touch the hand he had placed on her waist, a silent acknowledgment of his protective gesture. She leaned into him slightly, seeking comfort in his presence amidst the danger that surrounded them.

"Are you all right?" Pinocchio's voice, tinged with concern, cut through the tense silence as he remained close to Elara. His tender touch and the earnest look in his eyes enveloped her in a sense of safety, echoing the promise of protection he had made during their first encounter.

Elara met Pinocchio's gaze, her eyes a mix of relief and lingering concern, reflective of the peril they were still in. "Yes, I'm okay," she assured him, her voice steady, imbued with a sense of gratitude for his presence. Pinocchio's hold on her tightened slightly, a gesture that spoke of his reluctance to let her go, of his commitment to her safety. As he leaned in closer, their eyes remained locked in a silent exchange, his gaze momentarily drifting towards her lips, signaling the depth of their relationship.

Elara's pulse quickened under the intensity of Pinocchio's gaze as she placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his mechanical heart under her fingertips, a poignant reminder of his unique existence.

Pinocchio studied Elara intently, his breathing deep and rhythmic, a sign of the heightened emotions stirring within him. Not just due to the situation's gravity, but also from the closeness they shared. The contact of her hand against his chest, so light yet profound, resonated with him, urging him to lessen the space between them. However, he hesitated, acutely aware of the lingering danger just beyond their sanctuary.

"Don’t worry," he assured her gently, his deep blue eyes locking with hers, radiating a mix of assurance and depth. "I'll protect you." His words were more than a promise; they were a reflection of his commitment and the emotions he harbored for her.

Elara's eyes conveyed a blend of appreciation and a deep understanding of the complexity of emotions Pinocchio was grappling with. "Thank you, Pinocchio," she responded, her voice imbued with a heartfelt gratitude. She sensed his internal conflict, the struggle to balance the expression of his feelings with the need to remain alert to the dangers that surrounded them.

As Pinocchio leaned closer, the space between them charged with a palpable tension. His gaze, a dance of emotions, alternated between Elara's eyes and lips, signifying the depth of his feelings. Carefully, he raised his hand, his fingers tenderly cradling Elara's chin. His decision to bridge the gap between them was made with both caution and determination. "I think we ought to keep close," he whispered, his deep blue eyes intensely searching hers for understanding and consent.

Elara's pulse quickened under his gentle touch. The nearness of Pinocchio, the warmth of his breath, and the earnest look in his eyes stirred a fluttering sensation within her. His gaze, intermingled with apprehension and resolve, mirrored the complexity of emotions that Pinocchio grappled with in his journey toward humanity.

"I agree," Elara responded, her voice a soft echo of her growing affection. Her words, while acknowledging the danger of their situation, also held an unspoken acknowledgment of the deepening bond between them. The electric air around them seemed to vibrate with the intensity of their connection, a testament to their relationship that had flourished over time.

Leaning slightly into his touch, Elara's hand reached up to gently rest atop his, a gesture of comfort and solidarity. In the safety of Pinocchio's embrace, she found a sanctuary, a haven amidst the chaos of their circumstances. Pinocchio's inclination towards Elara was a delicate balance of longing and restraint. The warmth emanating from their proximity and the intimacy of the moment enveloped him. He yearned to close the distance, to feel the softness of her lips, yet he hesitated, savoring the anticipation.

Hovering just an inch away, his gaze was firmly fixed on her lips, revealing an intense desire tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Promise me one thing," he whispered, his voice a tender murmur barely audible over the rhythm of his heart.

With their lips tantalizingly close, Elara was captivated by the earnestness in Pinocchio's gaze, a mirror to her deep-seated feelings. Time seemed to stand still, creating a bubble of longing around them. Lifting her eyes to meet his, Elara's expression blended curiosity with deep-seated affection. "Anything," she responded in a breathless whisper, her voice conveying the depth of her emotions. Her heartbeat resonated with the unique tempo of Pinocchio's mechanical heart, a symphony of their shared nervousness and affection.

Pinocchio's gaze held a depth of seriousness, a reflection of the emotional storm brewing within him. "Promise me," he implored in a hushed whisper, his eyes momentarily drifting to her lips before returning to meet hers with a profound intensity. "Stay with me, no matter what happens." Elara felt the sincerity and urgency of his plea resonate within her, stirring a blend of emotions and a firm resolution. She gazed into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and the earnestness that underscored his request.

With a firm nod, she spoke with heartfelt conviction. "I promise, Pinocchio. I'll stay with you through everything." Her words were more than a mere assurance; they were a pledge, a deep commitment to remain by his side against all odds. Her hand gently caressed his face, a tender gesture that symbolized her commitment. But their moment of deep connection was abruptly interrupted. The distant but unmistakable growls of the puppet dogs, accompanied by the clanking of other mechanical foes, broke the silence.

The abrupt intrusion of danger snapped Pinocchio into action, his body coiling with tension and readiness. His eyes, previously soft with affection, sharpened into a vigilant gaze as he quickly assessed the threat. With a protective instinct as fierce as it was swift, he maneuvered Elara behind him, placing himself as a shield between her and the lurking danger.

"Stay behind me," Pinocchio commanded in a low, urgent whisper, his eyes darting around the room, seeking any form of cover or barricade. His mind, a whirlwind of tactical thoughts, worked rapidly to devise the safest course of action to shield Elara.

Elara, sensing the gravity of their predicament, gave a silent nod, her pulse racing with the surge of adrenaline. She remained close, trusting Pinocchio's judgment implicitly, her faith in his protective capabilities lending her a quiet strength.

In a fluid motion, Pinocchio grasped his sword, its familiar heft offering a small comfort amidst the chaos. His legion arm, a testament to intricate mechanical prowess, stood ready, its soft hum a subtle promise of defense. Standing firm, Pinocchio embodied the stance of a seasoned warrior, his resolve fortified by the imperative to protect Elara at all costs.

The growling and clanking of the puppet dogs grew ominously closer, each sound a warning of the impending confrontation. Pinocchio stood resolute, his senses heightened, ready for whatever approached. As the tension escalated, the door suddenly burst open. The puppet dogs, with their glowing red eyes and oil-dripping jaws, lunged menacingly into the room. Pinocchio, with his sharp reflexes, was ready to defend.

The battle was fierce and swift. Pinocchio's sword clashed against the metallic bodies of the puppet dogs, each strike precise and effective. Amidst the chaos, one of the dogs made a sudden leap towards Elara. Without hesitation, Pinocchio threw himself between them, a protective barrier against the attack.

At that moment, a fierce protectiveness overcame Pinocchio. His movements became more aggressive, his strikes more forceful. As he fought off the attacking dogs, his voice reached Elara through the cacophony of metal against metal. "Hide now!" he commanded, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.

Elara, her heart racing, quickly found a place to conceal herself, watching as Pinocchio continued to battle the mechanical beasts with a newfound intensity. One by one, the puppet dogs were disabled, their mechanical bodies collapsing to the ground in heaps of inoperative metal and leaking oil.

With the last of the attackers defeated, Pinocchio turned to find Elara, his expression a mix of concern and relief. He quickly approached her, being careful not to get any oil on her from his hands and clothes.

As Pinocchio carefully lifted Elara into his arms, she instinctively curled her arms around his neck, her gaze locking onto his with a blend of relief and deep appreciation. The recent turmoil they had endured seemed distant now, overshadowed by the security she found in his embrace. His robust, yet tender hold provided her with a haven, a contrast to the chaos that had just engulfed them.

Elara's senses were acutely attuned to the rhythmic beating of Pinocchio's mechanical heart as he carried her. His movements were a harmonious blend of elegance and strength, each stride purposefully distancing them from the peril they had escaped. She nestled her head against the comforting curve of his shoulder, allowing herself a momentary respite, enveloped in the sanctuary of his protective arms.

The crispness of the night air caressed her face as they progressed, offering a refreshing counterpoint to the stifling tension of the alley. While Elara's mind was still processing their close escape, within the circle of Pinocchio's arms, those anxieties seemed to dissolve, becoming distant echoes. Surrendering to the moment, she relaxed in his care, her trust in his guidance unwavering as they made their way to the safety of Hotel Krat.

Navigating through the dimly lit alleyway, Pinocchio remained vigilant, his eyes darting to every shadow and corner. The quiet of the night was deceptive, masking the possibility of lurking dangers. His steps were measured and swift, each one a calculated move to ensure their safety.

Elara, nestled securely in Pinocchio's arms, tightened her grip around his neck, her senses heightened by their precarious situation. The cold night air brushed against her skin, a stark reminder of the reality beyond the comfort of Pinocchio's embrace. Despite the potential threats that loomed in the darkness, Elara found a reassuring calm in Pinocchio's steady gait and unwavering focus.

As they turned a corner, Pinocchio's voice, low and steady, reached her ears. “Hold onto me,” he murmured, a gentle command infused with concern. His protective instinct was evident in his tone, a silent pledge to guard her against any harm.

As they neared Hotel Krat, the familiar structure emerged from the darkness like a beacon of safety. Elara's grip on Pinocchio's neck tightened, a silent expression of gratitude and relief. The dangers of the night seemed to recede as they approached the hotel, its warm lights offering a stark contrast to the shadows they had traversed.

Pinocchio's movements, while still quick, gradually relaxed as they closed the distance to the hotel. His mechanized heart, a steady pulse throughout their journey, now seemed to resonate with a sense of accomplishment. He had successfully navigated the treacherous streets and protected Elara from harm. The sounds of the city at night, once a backdrop to their tense escape, now faded into a distant murmur as they reached the safety of Hotel Krat. Elara's eyes, which had been fixed on Pinocchio with a mix of concern and admiration, now reflected a deep sense of relief and gratitude.

As they stepped into the hotel, the contrast between the chaos of the streets and the calmness of the lobby was palpable. The familiar surroundings enveloped them, offering a respite from the night's ordeal. Elara's reliance on Pinocchio, evident in her unwavering trust throughout their escape, was a testament to the bond they shared.

Once inside Hotel Krat, a sense of safety enveloped Elara and Pinocchio, a stark contrast to the perilous streets they had just left behind. The hotel's lobby, with its warm lighting, provided a tranquil haven, a much-needed reprieve from the night's adrenaline-fueled escapade.

Pinocchio, feeling the quiet calm of the hotel, set Elara gently on her feet. Yet, he maintained a comforting connection, taking her hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle, a silent promise of continued protection and care. The lobby's hushed ambiance was a soothing balm to their frayed nerves, a peaceful interlude after their harrowing journey.

Together, they stepped into the small elevator, the quiet space amplifying the sense of intimacy between them. Pinocchio's hand, enveloping Elara's, offered reassurance and solidarity. The soft hum of the elevator ascending was the only sound breaking the silence, emphasizing the tranquility that now surrounded them.

The elevator's arrival on their desired floor was marked by a quiet ding, the doors sliding open to reveal the serene hotel corridor. Pinocchio, leading the way, did not let go of Elara's hand, his protective presence a comforting constant. Their footsteps were soft against the carpet, each step deliberate and measured, as they moved down the hallway.

Approaching his room, Pinocchio paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on Elara. In his eyes, there was a depth of emotion, a silent communication of all they had shared and survived together. Gently, he ushered her into the room, his actions conveying both care and a desire for privacy, away from the world outside. Pinocchio's room, bathed in the soft glow from the streetlights outside, exuded a sense of calm and simplicity. The minimalist furnishings included a bed with a dark blue comforter, a desk tucked in the corner, and a scattering of books that hinted at a quiet intellect.

As they entered, Pinocchio's attentiveness never wavered. His hand gently transitioned from holding Elara's to resting on her arm, an instinctual gesture of care. His eyes, filled with a mix of concern and relief, searched her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry. Elara responded with a reassuring smile, conveying her well-being. "I'm fine, thanks to you," she replied, her tone laced with gratitude. She placed her hand over his, a gentle touch that spoke volumes of the trust and affection between them.

Pinocchio's gaze, soft and appreciative, met hers. "You're welcome," he murmured, his thumb caressing her knuckles in a tender gesture. His protective nature was evident in every action, from his watchful gaze to the way he secured the door behind them, ensuring their privacy.

Elara moved swiftly, yet with a gentle grace that spoke of her deep concern for Pinocchio. She was quick to notice the traces of oil that tarnished his appearance. Retrieving a towel, she kept her attentive eyes on him, ensuring he was unharmed. With deliberate care, Elara approached Pinocchio and cradled his face in her hands. The towel glided softly over his skin, her movements tender and reassuring.

Throughout the process, Elara's gaze frequently locked with Pinocchio's, her eyes a mirror of concern and fondness. In this quiet moment, her actions conveyed more than words could — a gesture of affection and understanding in a world often harsh and unyielding. Pinocchio's response to her touch was visceral, a shiver coursing through him as her hands traced the contours of his face. Accustomed to being the guardian, the protector, he found solace in this role reversal, cherishing the sensation of being cared for by someone as dear to him as Elara.

A soft smile graced his lips as he leaned into her touch, surrendering to the moment. His gaze held hers, communicating a blend of gratitude and affection. In Elara's gentle hands, Pinocchio experienced a rare and precious feeling of being nurtured and cherished. Elara was keenly aware of the subtle shiver that coursed through Pinocchio, a testament to his deepening sensitivity and his journey towards a more human experience. Each gentle touch seemed to resonate with him, reflecting his growing ability to feel and respond to the nuances of human interaction.

After she had carefully removed all traces of the battle from his face, Elara paused, her hands gently framing his cheeks. She took a moment to appreciate not just the cleanliness of his appearance, but the remarkable transformation in the man before her. The external signs of the skirmish might have been wiped away, yet the experience had woven a new thread into the fabric of their relationship.

"There, much better," she said softly, a hint of playfulness in her tone. Her smile, warm and affectionate, conveyed her approval and admiration. "Now, you truly look like yourself again." Her hands remained cupped around his face for a few seconds more, a silent reluctance to end the closeness they shared in that moment. As the last traces of oil were cleared from his face, Pinocchio's gaze became fixated on Elara's hands. The soft, deliberate motions of her fingers as they traced the contours of his skin were captivating. Her gentle care was a haven, a stark contrast to the brutal reality that loomed outside their moment of tranquility.

Drawing closer, the warmth in Pinocchio's voice was unmistakable. "May I ask you something?" he inquired, his tone carrying an undercurrent of earnestness. Elara turned her full attention to Pinocchio, her eyes locking onto his with an expression that blended curiosity with a profound openness. "Of course," she replied, her voice conveying both steadiness and encouragement.

"What's on your mind?" Elara asked softly, her voice tinged with genuine interest, eager to understand the thoughts and emotions simmering within him. In the brief silence that followed, Pinocchio gathered his thoughts, the intensity of his emotions simmering beneath the surface. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it resonated with depth and vulnerability.

"When you look at me," he asked softly, the words seemingly drawn out by the gravity of his feelings, "what do you see?" His question hung in the air, laden with significance, his eyes searching Elara's for a glimpse into her perception of him.

Elara paused, the weight of Pinocchio's question settling in her heart. She looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and earnestness that resided there. She understood the importance of her response, aware of how it could affect him. "I see someone extraordinary," she began slowly, her voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "Someone who's more than just the sum of their parts. You're Pinocchio, someone who feels, who cares, who's learning and growing every day."

Her eyes held his gaze steadily, conveying the depth of her feelings. "I see someone who's brave, who's been through so much yet still has the capacity for kindness and wonder. And," she added, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, "I see someone I love so deeply, more than I've ever thought possible."

Listening to her, Pinocchio felt her words echo within him, touching a part of him that had become increasingly human. Her declaration of love enveloped him in a warmth he cherished. With an unwavering gaze, he locked eyes with her, an intensity and depth of emotion reflecting in his own. A gentle warmth radiated from his expression; his smile soft yet full of unspoken love. "Elara," he spoke softly, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable, "hearing you say that means everything to me."

Closing the gap between them, he stepped forward. Confidently, his hands reached out, cradling her face with a tenderness that spoke volumes of their shared affection. "I love you too, Elara, deeply and truly. You've opened up a world to me I never knew existed, a world rich with emotions I never thought I'd experience."

In his eyes, a mixture of happiness and appreciation shone brightly. "In your eyes, I see myself not just as I am, but as I can be," he continued, his touch gentle yet filled with emotion. "Being with you, feeling this love, makes me feel more human, more alive." Pinocchio, feeling the depth of their shared emotion, moved even closer to Elara. His hands, still cradling her face, pulled her gently toward him. Their eyes remained locked, a silent conversation flowing between them, speaking of love, trust, and a deep-seated connection.

"Elara," he whispered, his voice a soft caress against her skin. "Being with you is where I truly belong."

Their lips connected, a soft yet electrifying touch that set off a flood of emotions. This kiss, familiar yet always new, started as a gentle exploration, affirming the deep bond they shared. But soon, it deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Elara's hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, while Pinocchio's arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her in. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving nothing but the two of them and the intensity of their kiss.

As they continued to kiss, their bodies found a natural, synchronized rhythm. They moved together, effortlessly stepping back until Elara felt the edge of the bed against her legs. Without breaking their kiss, they found themselves lying down, Pinocchio's body hovering over hers, their hearts beating in unison. Each caress, each movement was filled with a sense of longing and desire.

Their kissing grew more fervent, a dance of lips and tongues, an expression of their deepening love. Whispered declarations of love intermingled with their breaths, each word reinforcing their deep commitment. "I love you," Elara murmured between kisses, her fingers tangled in his hair.

"I love you more than words can say," Pinocchio replied, his voice muffled against her lips, his heart thrumming against her.

In this intimate embrace, something extraordinary happened. Unbeknownst to them, Pinocchio's mechanical heart began to transform amidst the passion and love. It was subtle at first, but with each beat, it became more like that of a human. It was as if the love they shared was rewriting the very essence of his being.

As they continued to kiss, lost in each other, Pinocchio's heartbeat with a new rhythm, one that echoed the depth of his feelings for Elara. It was a sign of a remarkable change, a shift toward humanity fueled by the power of love and connection.

#fanfic #short story #writing #lies of p #lies of p fanfic #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio fanfic #pinocchio #lop #x oc #lies of p x oc #lies of p pinocchio x oc #pinocchio x oc

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unshackled-if · 10 months

Note

When MC and RO started a relationship or when they are close to becoming a couple.

What if our MC, which has been feeling numb for a long time. At some point in the conversation, they will fall silent, pat their own body in search of something, after which they will look into the eyes of RO and say: "Oh my God, is this a desire to live? Did you do that?". As a semi- joke.

What will be the reaction of the RO?

a bit of angst. 😔

Aurelian:

There is a moment of silence as Aurelian stares at MC, observing as they pat their own body.

The weight of his guilt begins to descend upon him, causing his heart to race. His mind races as he recollects the events that led to MC's imprisonment, vividly recalling every detail.

Aurelian collapses to his knees in front of MC, his eyes brimming with tears. His voice quivering with emotion. "I am aware that words can never atone for what I've done, but I vow to ensure that you will never have to endure agony again."

MC gazes down at Aurelian, their eyes softening. For a moment, they feel the urge to lash out, to curse and condemn him for all he's done. But as the warmth of his hands spreads through their body, a sense of affection envelops them.

Suddenly, Aurelian steps forward and pulls the MC into a tight embrace, a gesture that is both tender and passionate, signifying the deep emotions that have been simmering between them for so long.

Elara:

Elara’s eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she is unsure of how to respond. But then, she sees the glint of hope in MC eyes, the spark of life that she thought was lost forever. And she will do everything in her power to help MC hold onto that feeling.

Elara reaches out and gently caresses MC’s cheek, her touch tender and loving. MC looks at her with surprise, but there is a warmth in their eyes that indicates that they welcome the gesture.

“You have been through so much,” Elara’s voice soft and gentle. “But you are still here, still fighting. I will always believe in you. No matter what happens, I will be here for you, to support you and love you.”

MC feels a lump form in their throat, and for a moment, they are unable to speak. But then, they take Elara’s hand in theirs, holding it tight.

Elara smiles, leaning closer to MC. She presses her forehead against theirs, and for a moment, they are lost in each other’s eyes.

Kazuo:

The remark fell flat as the MC was taken aback by the unexpected comment.

Kazuo reacted immediately, sensing the change in MC and experiencing a surge of protective emotions towards them. He grasped their arm and drew them near, examining their eyes for any indication of distress or unease.

"I'm always here for you," Kazuo said, conveying his genuineness through his words and his touch.

As MC stared into Kazuo's eyes, they discerned their own anguish and misery mirrored in them, and they knew that he comprehended them in a way that no one else could.

With tears welling up in MC's eyes, they embraced Kazuo firmly, sensing a feeling of relief and solace in his arms. He held onto them tightly, his loyalty and protectiveness radiating as he whispered words of encouragement and support.

Aiden/Ava:

A pulled MC close, wrapping their arms around them in a tight embrace. Their heart ached at the thought of everything MC had gone through, but they knew that they had the strength to move forward.

"I didn't do anything," A whispered, holding MC even tighter. "You always had the strength to overcome, and I'm so proud of you. You're not alone in this, MC. I'm here for you, always."

MC's eyes widened at A's words, and they felt a warmth spreading through their body. They buried their face in A's neck, feeling safe and protected in their embrace. A rubbed their back gently, offering comfort and support.

When they finally pulled away, MC cupped A's face in their hands, their eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I love you," they said softly. "Thank you for being here for me, for loving me even when I couldn't love myself."

SC:

“Oh my sweet, you misunderstand. It is not I who is your desire to live, but rather, you are mine. Your love sustain me. Without you, I am a mere specter, a mere murmur in the endless abyss.”

#asks #angst #anon #thank you anon!#ro: aurelian #ro:elara #ro: kazuo #ro: aiden/ava #ro: sc

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king-maven-calore · 25 days

Text

or forever hold your peace 💐 (Marecal - modern AU- rated M)

Chapter 2: Walk down the isle of doom

Excerpt: “Sir. I’m afraid we have a situation.” The hotel manager broke into the room, pulling the three family members out of their reveries. The bald man swallowed and patted a handkerchief to his forehead. “Runaway bride,” Elara guessed, the speckle of happiness she’d just displayed swiftly extinguished. “Not precisely,” the man’s eyes darted from her to Mr. Calore. “She’s trying to leave the hotel to approach the press to... ehem ‘denounce her fiancé and his family’s crimes’. Something along those lines. She won’t specify. Nor will she let us reason with her. Although, the staff has managed to contain her to the Edwardian room.” “The room where the ceremony is taking place? Couldn’t you contain her somewhere less inconvenient?” “Wou- well- the flower arrangements and vases being used as artillery compromises the staff’s safety, ma’am.”

#my fics #marecal #red queen #rq fics #a comment a day keeps the writer's block away

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come-along-pond · 2 months

Text

notes: My first box on the @occreatorexchange prompt bingo! Yes I did say I'd use democracy for this but I started writing and this is cute okay! This is set a few years after the Second Rebellion. I also made lil picture overlays because @endless-oc-creations did it and I thought it was cute.

warnings: uh, probably inaccurate descriptions of the districts.

Elara Admiral (OC) x Finnick Odair: Sleepy Cuddles

AO3 VERSION

District 4 was warm, bright and sunny. Homes by the seafront had seashells hanging from string, glistening in the lights whilst those deeper in were made of a warm sandstone. It was different to Elara’s home in 2, she was used to grey walls and the clang of metal, and she often remembered waking up in the morning to a faint metallic smell. Now, she just smelt Finnick. Every morning she woke up and he was her first thought, her first sensation, his arms wrapped around her, securing her to his chest. She felt safe and protected. That was new for her.

Today was like no other, she awoke facing away from him, his left arm under her head whilst his right drew faint circles over her thigh. She felt a faint breeze on her neck, the consequence of leaving the window slightly ajar, she didn’t mind, the sea air calmed her.

“Morning,” she mumbles and she feels Finnick shift, grinning into her neck

“Hi,” Elara threads her fingers through the ones on her thigh, sighing in content.

The sun streames through the thin curtains, and Elara turns so she’s facing the window - and Finnick.

His hair is messy, the bright blonde tips scrunched together, she lightly rakes her fingers through it, separating pieces, he groans slightly and Elara giggles, continuing the motion. They fall into a comforting silence, content with just each other’s company, the gentle breeze through their hair and the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

Finally, Elara breaks the silence “No surfing plans today?”

“I’d much rather stay here with you,” Finnick croaks out, sleep coating his voice

“Well I -” she pauses for effect, tracing his jawline “Have to walk to the post office to send off our letter to Peeta and Katniss,”

“They can wait,” he grumbles, leaning into her touch, and tangling his legs with hers, her tone turns teasing.

“You know how Peeta is when we take too long to reply, I already left it a day,” Finnick groans and burrows his head into Elara’s chest “Come on, the sooner I send it, the sooner you learn when you can see your boyfriend again,” It was a running joke between the two couples, how close Finnick and Peeta were, it was funny, considering how often Joanna had said that Finnick was Katniss’ ‘Work Wife’ whilst Peeta was Elara’s.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Finnick laughs, his usual bellow muffled by her sleep shirt.

“No, no it’s okay, me and Kat know where we stand,” Elara grins when Finnick looks up at her, a fake pout on his face.

“You’re insufferable”

“I know,” she smiles and he pushes himself up, lingering over her now, he softly presses his lips to hers and Elara closes her eyes, warm and sleepy.

Finnick pulls back and studies his girlfriend, her hair sprawled over the light yellow sheets, she looked happy, with a slight tan and golden strands of hair, courtesy of the sun. It was nice to see her like this, so carefree. He’d spent years watching her in the Capitol, cold and disconnected, then in the 75th games, calculated. They were free now, Panem was free and she chose to lay here with him, chose to cook dinner and try to learn to surf just because he loved it so much. She was happy. He was happy.

“You’re staring,” Elara mutters, Finnick doesn’t reply, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and laying back down next to her

“One more hour?” he asks softly, Elara looks right and into his pleading green eyes.

“One more hour,”.

----------&----------

taglist: @arrthurpendragon @bravelittleflower @ginger-grimm @dancingsunflowers-ocs @foxesandmagic @shrinkthisviolet @witchofinterest @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl

Send an ask/message if you wish to be added or removed!

#oc: elara admiral #ocx bingo #the hunger games oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #ocapp #ochub #my writing #the hunger games oc #the hunger games ocs #the hunger games original character

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ysa-s · 2 months

Text

My Person

Part 2 < Part 1

The disappointment in my superior's voice scraped raw nerves already frayed. "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again," I bowed, the words hollow. "Go home, clear your head," he sighed, his gaze heavy with unspoken reprimand. The weight of his words, coupled with the recent encounter with Wooin and the client's reprimand, pressed down on me like a suffocating fog. My client, thankfully, was understanding, letting me off with a warning.

"So, what happened out there?" Ha-Jun, my colleague, went beside me, his presence jarring in the aftermath of the chaos. "Nothing," I mumbled, heat creeping up my neck. This wasn't me, the reliable Elara, known for focus and composure. "Heading home. See you tomorrow, Jun." My escape was a hasty wave, the rumble of my bike engine a welcome distraction.

The wind whipped past as I rode, the helmet suddenly oppressive, not comforting. Wooin. His name echoed in the roar of the engine, a mantra of both fear and longing. I needed to talk to him. But where? What could I say? Fear gnawed at my insides, but the silence was even worse.

Turning instinctively, I pulled into the familiar convenience store parking lot. Hunger was a distant thought, replaced by the need for a pit stop. Inside, the fluorescent lights hummed, casting a sterile glow over ramen cups and onigiri packets. I grabbed a meal, seeking solace in the mundane act of eating.

Gazing out the window, the city unfolded before me: a blur of cars, bikes, people. A child tripped, eliciting a sympathetic smile. A sleek Mustang caught my eye, drawing a surprised "Damn." The normalcy of it all felt surreal, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Every bike, every reminder of the race, sent a jolt of anxiety through me.

Finishing my meal, I tossed the trash, the plastic crinkling echoing my own nervous state. Clarity, that's what I needed. A decision solidified. On my next day off, I'd return to the race venue, a gamble that he might be there, a desperate hope for a chance to explain. He deserved the truth, the messy truth of why I left, the burden I carried, and the love that still burned bright despite everything.

Part 3 >

#windbreaker #manhwa #webtoon #wooin windbreaker #wooin x reader

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rosietrace · 2 months

Text

A moment of Peace

(Central) Characters Featured: Victoria Shard, Noriko Dolion

↳ { Noriko belongs to @/terrovaniadorm }

Others mentioned/featured: Elara Cessair

↳ { Elara also belongs to @/terrovaniadorm }

Pairing: Noriko Dolion & Victoria Shard

Event: Valentine's Day 2024 💌

↳ Type: Non-requested Oneshot! 「 N/A 」

Synopsis: Moments like the ones they shared behind closed doors were scarce, limited all because of the lives they lived. But when those moments came, they treasured them with all their hearts.

Warning(s): Established relationship, Elara is in every Nororia fic because I said so /j, a simp in the premises, really REALLY fluffy, FLIRTY VIC REAL‼️‼️, potentially ooc

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

†•°•══════ஓ๑「♢」๑ஓ══════•°•†

“I like this.”

“Like what?”

“This,” Victoria motioned to Noriko's face, gently placing a hand over their cheek with the softest of smiles on her face.

Though their face heated up at the sudden display of affection from her, Noriko smiled, leaning into Victoria's touch— their head rested on her lap.

During weekends such as the one they were having at the moment, Victoria and Noriko would switch between each other's dormitories; All so they could spend the rest of the day just… doing things together.

Tonight — a beautiful, silver-mooned, night — they began their activities in Victoria's room, this time around.

The pair sat on her bed in silence, both of which focused on doing two different tasks to keep themselves entertained. All the while giving one another the occasional show of affection every now and again.

Victoria was immersed in her book, whereas Noriko had built their focus on solving the puzzle of keys Elara had dared them to solve earlier that day.

Fiddling with the puzzle, their face scrunched in silent frustration. How bothersome…

They were sure to reprimand Elara the following day for giving them a task so tedious. However, Noriko's pride refused to back down, so regardless of how they felt about the puzzle, they were still somewhat determined to solve it.

And yes, Victoria had offered to assist in solving it— resulting in Noriko politely declining the offer, not only for the sake of their own pride but also to fulfill the need to impress her.

“Honestly, you're such a buffoon,” Elara had told Noriko, once upon a time, “even the simplest show of praise from Vic has you on your knees. You're like some obedient dog.”

He'd silenced the Octavinelle wolf with a scowl, way back when. But upon further contemplation, Noriko felt too embarrassed to admit that Elara had a bit of a point.

In their quest to complete the puzzle, Noriko continued to fiddle with it, pulling at all the different keys in different ways to try and garner them apart.

They ended up dropping the puzzle on their face, eliciting a laugh from Victoria.

Noriko felt his face burn in embarrassment and utter bliss. How beautiful her laugh was, even as he faced a moment of complete humiliation, Noriko likely believed.

Victoria's laugh slowly turned into a gentle chuckle. “Are you alright?” She tilted her head down, brushing her lips over Noriko's brow.

“I'm quite alright,” Noriko chuckled at the brush of contact, themselves, pausing just enough for them to add: “And before you ask, I am in no need of assistance.”

Victoria hummed, eyes wandering between the puzzle in Noriko's hands, and the way Noriko's amber hues locked onto her set of sapphires.

“I wouldn't be quite so sure, Nori,” she pressed her index finger over his nose. “The way you're struggling with that puzzle implies otherwise.”

They huffed at her remark. “I can assure you with as much heart as any honorable gentleman, My Lady, I am in no need of any assistance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

“How amusing.”

There came a raise of Noriko's eyebrow.

“How so?” They questioned, uncertain of where this conversation was heading.

“Oh, nothing.”

Victoria's voice turned horribly innocent, feigning an act of purity that she so clearly lacked after years of trial and error.

Adjusting the position they were currently in, Victoria brought Noriko closer to her. Pressing her lips close to their ear in a way that got their face to turn very, very red.

“I just like seeing you so insistent,” she whispered into his ear, kissing his temple in addition to that. “So adorably ambitious, you are, Nori.”

Noriko's face burned. Adorably ambitious? Whatever was she thinking?

With their face abashed, Noriko hid the bearings of their face into the crook of her shoulder; A habit he'd unintentionally picked up after experiencing numerous nightmares, with Victoria always being there to bring comfort after being jolted awake.

Only this time, there were no nightmares at play to elicit this action from them.

In every way that mattered, Victoria preferred that. Giggling to herself, she kissed the top of their head, running her soft hand through his royal blue locks.

They embraced her further, their lips colliding against the base of her neck.

Victoria smirked, raising Noriko's chin with the pad of her fingers. “Don't get too comfortable now, Noriko Dolion.”

He huffed out a small laugh, leaning their foreheads against each other. “I lack a true apology implicit, My Lady.”

She crooned at them, bringing her hands to their face and cradling them close. “Noriko Dolion, you dare challenge me?”

“If it results in hearing that melodious voice of yours, My Lady, I wouldn't be opposed to continuing.”

“Oh my,” she tucked a couple strands of their hair behind their ear, “and where did this newfound confidence come from, then?”

Noriko shrugged, their shoulders sagging as they allowed themselves to relax in this moment— with her, and her alone.

“Think of it as a gift from Elara's never-ending teasing.”

She snorted. “Elara? Elara ‘everything is a game’ Cessair?”

“That Elara, yes. Or are you referring to a different one?”

“I don't believe I know another Elara, Sweetness.”

“Then that's the one I am referencing.”

“Hmm,” Victoria leaned her back upside the headboard of her bed; A midnight purple canopy that seemed to blend into the dark of night when the candles dimmed low.

“Then a thanks is in order for Miss Cessair, indeed.”

“Very much so.”

It hadn't even occurred to her — to either of them, really — that she'd completely abandoned any focus that was had on the book she'd been reading for the past half-hour.

Although Victoria would dare not complain about something so precarious. Not when she had her precious Knight tucked so nicely in her arms, their head resting atop her chest in comfortable bliss.

A sense of peace washed over the both of them. The kind of peace that never came often with how… chaotic, their daily lives were.

Chaotic might not even be the most proper way of describing their everyday life. Dealing with the rest of NRC’s student body: Deadbeat Headmasters, draconic nuisances, playful wolves, and the sort? Quite hectic, such occurrences were.

It was why the couple agreed on having these weekend ‘staycations’.

They didn't need to go anywhere, let alone leave campus grounds regardless of how tempting it felt — they just needed one another.

Enveloped in the arms of the other, in comfort. In peace.

“... Nori.”

Victoria had laid down after a while, still locking Noriko in her embrace. An embrace they never wanted to leave, no longer.

With no reaction, she furrowed her brows, lightly shaking him. “Nori…”

Noriko stirred in their quiet slumber, eventually fluttering open their eyes, his soft amber hues peering through her.

It pierced through her heart in what could only be described as the best in every way imaginable.

“Yes…” Noriko shifted, bringing themselves closer to Victoria. “Mm… What is it, My Lady?”

She smiled at the small gesture. Of bringing him closer to her simply because he wanted to.

All because they loved her more than they probably should.

Victoria didn't know how she got so lucky, with someone as devoted as Noriko. Loving her — imperfect, flawed, and broken her — so wholly, so perfect like the puzzle Noriko had abandoned to be in her warm embrace.

Her smile softened. So enchanting, Noriko always thought whenever the edges of her lips curved upward.

“I love you, Nori.”

Such words were so… Ordinary, in sound. So simple in phrasing— yet the weight of what it meant felt so good when it came from her.

Their noses brushed against one another.

One hand went to the side of Victoria's face, whereas Noriko's free arm wrapped around her waist.

So mesmerizing. Intoxicating. The kind of moment in life that they'd want to live through over and over again, simply to relive it.

She loved them. And they loved her, tenfold. In both the best and worst possible ways of it, Noriko loved Victoria in the only way they knew how.

Through loyalty. Through devotion.

Till death do they part, even if that future was unlikely with the cards life had dealt them.

“I love you too, Victoria.”

•♢°─────────°♢•

Waking up in the early mornings of whatever weekend became a regular occurrence for Noriko.

Being the Knight that they were, they'd developed the unintentional habit of sleeping a lot less than what the average person required.

But now — with her — Noriko believed that any stresses of the future could be withstood. That he could overcome those difficulties.

Those habits, the worst of them, especially.

Noriko had already believed that, in their eyes, Victoria deserved better than them. With her beauty, her wit, her being— they knew she could have just about anyone.

And yet: She chose them. Of all the people in the world, within the confines of Night Raven, Victoria Shard chose them.

Her most loyal Knight.

They looked down at her slumbering figure in their arms. The night before last, it had been them in her arms.

Suppose our sleeping forms had made this adjustment, they figured in the landscape of their thoughts.

Noriko refused to allow himself to wake her up. Victoria's schedule was — in the least sugar-coated way possible — a mess. It brought an undoubted level of stress in her everyday life in the academy, and the lady had little time to actually let loose in between and after running errands.

It was why Noriko wanted her to cherish moments like the one they were having right then and there for as long as she could. And vice versa.

Noriko smiled despite themselves, their lips making contact with the top of Victoria's hair.

“Sleep well, My Lady.”

†•°•══════ஓ๑「♢」๑ஓ══════•°•†

Taglist

—

Written for

@terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights

—

🥥

@starry-night-rose || @jasdiary || @authoruio || @nem0-nee || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15

—

「 Etteilla ♢」

@mystery-skulls-ghost || @abyss-wonderer || @geminiiviolets || @twsted-princess || @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz

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queen-scribbles · 27 days

Note

❛ do you remember when we first met? ❜

Tel and Elara get this one, ft a role reversal Tel is NOT very happy with me about😅 Way down the timeline, at least post-LotS, probably further ---

The dust cleared and the building had collapsed around them.

"Dorne?"

The dust cleared and they were trapped.

"Els?!"

The dust cleared and her chest hurt.

"El-" It devolved into a coughing fit, then muted chatter and the sound of shifting debris.

She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him not to move things, but he came into view before she got any sound out. (Just as well; it would probably have been a hiss of pain rather than words. Her chest hurt.)

Tel was covered in duracrete dust; peppered in his hair, smudged across his face, scuffed into his clothes. Even that wasn't enough to hide how white he went at the sight of her. That didn't bode well.

He swore and came skidding down the debris pile that had been a ridiculously fancy staircase twenty minutes ago, heedless of the detritus snagging and ripping at his clothes as he went. "Els, where's your medkit?"

"R-Right side of my pack. I think 'm laying on i-" She started to shift and the pain spiked and Tel's hand slammed into her shoulder to hold her still and she finally looked down.

A thin, dull length of metal protruded from just above the lower edge of her ribcage. "...Oh," Elara grunted.

"Don't. Move." Tel's hands were shaking as he extricated the medkit without moving her much.

"All those mornings getting... getting up when I was sleeping on top of y-you paid off," Elara teased, trying to get him to smile, it was odd to see him without a smile, she didn't... (Stars, her chest hurt.)

"Oh, yeah, there were so many of those where you didn't get up first," he deadpanned. He smiled, but it was fleeting, forced, and didn't reach his eye. "Els, you're gonna have to talk me through this, I-I don't know what I'm doing..."

She smiled shakily and reached to squeeze his hand in reassurance. "First is to see if the... impaling object goes all... all the way through." His pulse jumped in his throat and she squeezed his hand again. "You'll have to shift me a little, but-"

"Keep it to a minimum." Tel took a deep breath, coughed from the lingering dust. "I do remember that part."

He did very well, only moving her an inch or so to run his hand along her back. (He didn't joke about feeling her up. It must be bad. Or at least look bad. Her chest hurt.) From the fact whatever it was didn't press one edge of the wound, Elara knew the answer before Tel spoke.

"I think I can just feel it pressing from the inside" --he looked perturbed at the thought--"but it's not stickin' through or connected to anything in the back."

She coughed, winced. "If... if there's excessive bleeding, staunch it, but" --he wasn't going to like this part-- "unless there's no rescue coming, it's better to leave the... object on the wound."

(She wasn't thrilled about the prospect, either. Her chest hurt.)

"Els-" Tel's brow furrowed and he was paler than she'd ever seen him, even the times he'd almost died on her--not Belsavis, not Taanab, not Iokath, none of them--as he pressed one of the sterile pads from the medkit around the spike or whatever it was.

"It will minimize blood loss, and you don't know what damage removing it might cause," Elara said gently. She frowned. "Is rescue of some sort en route?"

Tel nodded, swiping a hand across his forehead. It streaked grime and blood and didn't do much good otherwise. "My comms were okay, I got in touch with Jorgan. There were other locations bombed, but this was the main target, so it's higher priority for SAR response."

"Then... it's best to keep the bleeding under... under control and leave removal for a sterile and professional environment." Breathing was an effort; maybe she had a collapsed lung? "However, kolto wouldn't... wouldn't go amiss."

"Oh. Right." Tel guided her hand to hold the compress so he could look for the injector. His hands were shaking.

It was as he dug through her medkit--she would need to reorganize that now, she mused dully--that Elara caught sight of the gash torn through his leather jacket and skin, almost the whole length of his forearm.

"Telcontar-" She started to protest, to grab his arm, but he caught her wrist and gently but firmly moved her hand back where he'd put it.

"We're worrying about you right now," he scolded, even though his arm was covered in blood, tacky with dust from shattered duracrete and plaster and had to hurt. He kissed her forehead, heedless of any grime.

His frustrated growl morphed into a bark of triumph as he finally located the kolto injector, then depressed it against her arm. The sting of the injection was quickly overridden by relief as the healing agent swirled through her.

Elara let out a breath and leaned her head back. "S'nice."

Her chest hurt. Hopefully that would ease now. Breathing was hard.

Tel's comm buzzed and he listened intently before relaying, "SAR says ten minutes for a stable opening to reach us; lucky we're in the consulate lobby or it'd be longer." His fingers traced down her jaw. "Just gotta hold on that long, okay, Els? Then you'll be in much better hands than mine."

Your hands are perfectly fine. I like your hands. "Do m'best..." Her eyes were starting to droop closed, lids too heavy to keep open. No. She forced them open even as she took a labored breath, even as Tel's hand settled over hers on the compress. "You're doing wonderfully, darling. Just... Keep me awake, long as you can," she grit out. "Keep me talking. About anything."

"Okay. Anything..." There was the briefest hesitation, fear writ across his face, then, "Do you remember when we first met?"

Of all the topics, he would pick that. She wanted to laugh, but that would hurt, so she smiled instead. "Dearest, you celebrate... the anniversary alongside our w-wedding and... and family birthdays." She groped for his free hand. "It would be impossible to forget."

"Huh, and here I was hoping you'd remember b'cause I'm irresistibly charming and easy on the eyes and made such a damned good impression as to be unforgettable."

"You certainly are that," Elara said, amusement bleeding into her voice. "And since I married you, I think it's safe to say all the other things are true, too."

Tel slipped his hand in hers. "D'you remember when that anniversary is?"

She had to wrack her brain a moment--clever man, getting her to think--but it did come to her. "Soon, isn't it? Day... after tomorrow?"

"Got it in one." Tel squeezed her hand, checked the compress. "So you better be in better enough shape by then to do somethin' fun."

"No... no promises... You might have to get creative with the something fun." She couldn't feel him squeeze her hand, only see it. That wasn't a good sign. Her chest didn't hurt and she didn't think it was from the kolto kicking in. "T-Tell Kaira and Trace--"

"Elara, no. Don't you dare." His voice was strangled, desperately fierce. "Whatever it is, you tell them yourself, sweetheart."

"I... want to..." I might not get a say. She made herself focus on his face. The freckles, the scars, cybernetics gone dim around his eyepatch, the cut on his cheekbone, red and angry even if it wasn't bleeding. The frantic determination in his eye, pale blue and so easy to read. "...but just in case..."

"Don't jinx it, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, Els, c'mon, please." Tel's voice broke on the pleading, and he squeezed her hand again.

Elara's last conscious thought was she'd never seem him look helpless before.

---

She didn't wake up dead, so to speak, as she'd half-expected would be the result of an injury like she'd sustained. Rather, she was in a passably comfortable hospital bed--better than the Coruscant medcenter post-Gauntlet, anyway--with a dull ache in her chest and sunlight streaming through the window.

Sunlight. Daytime. The bombing had been early evening, how long...?

Movement drew her attention to the left, to Tel. He was slouched in the chair by her bed, his forearm swathed in medseal and his head lolling to the side as he dozed. He snapped upright, but almost immediately started drifting again.

Between knowing how long he could stay awake without issue and the healthy shading of stubble on his jaw, Elara felt compelled to ask, "How long is it since you slept?"

Her voice was so rough she barely recognized it.

"Four days," Tel mumbled reflexively, before it sank in who had asked and he bolted awake. "Elara-!" When she smiled bashfully, he leaned over to kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips.

Elara hummed, hand curving his jaw as she kissed him back. Her lungs ached, forcing her to pull away earlier than usual(earlier than she wanted). "You're quite a sight to wake up to," she whispered, thumb rubbing against his cheek.

"Hey, that's my line, gorgeous," Tel protested, with no real heat behind it. He kissed her forehead again. "Guess I can let you borrow it, though, seeing as you had a piece of chandelier through your chest."

The attempt at humor didn't completely reach his eye, but if he was cracking even half-hearted jokes, she would take that as a good sign. "Is that what it was?" Elara asked dryly, shifting to a slightly more sitting up position.

"Mm-hm. Cracked a couple ribs, nicked your lung, narrowly missed some other stuff. Nothin' kolto couldn't fix, but..." He took her hand and she squeezed. You scared me.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before she asked. "You said four days?" He nodded and she squeezed his hand again. "Sorry I missed the anniversary, love," she murmured. "Suppose I owe you something fun. Or at least a nice dinner."

Tel chuckled, genuine if rough with exhaustion. "S'okay. I owe you a new medkit, forgot to grab it when they got us out. So we both have somethin' to look forward to." He hesitated. "Els, I don't... You..." He rubbed his jaw, idly scratching at the stubble. "Do I scare you that badly? When..."

One side of her mouth started tipping in a wry smile as she mentally reviewed the times their positions had been reversed and Tel had been stabbed, caught in explosions, mauled by a rancor, electrocuted within an inch of his life... (Among other things.)

"Yes," she said simply, rubbing her thumb over the side of his hand. Hard truths over easy lies, always. "If... if not worse." He wouldn't have asked if he didn't want her to be honest.

He blew out a breath. "Then I'm gonna go ahead and swear to do my best to never do that to you again."

"Tel..." She wouldn't hold him to that, couldn't. She knew knew him too well. Knew his reckless streak, his drive to protect. Even if she appreciated the fact he would try. "Sweet of you. You can start by taking a shower and getting some sleep before you pass out, dearest."

He'd cleaned up, some, and the cut on his cheek was taped with a couple small patches of synthskin, but his face was still grimy around the edges, grey duracrete dust matted into his hair.

Tel smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through the mess of it, leaving sweaty tousled spikes in its wake. "Yeah, I've had a higher priority for a few days."

Elara chuckled. "Which is very sweet, and greatly appreciated. However, now your 'higher priority' would appreciate if you didn't smell," she teased. She crinkled her nose dramatically.

He gave a faux-gasp. "Is this the thanks my heroic sacrifice gets me?"

"I think you mean hygienic sacrifice, darling," she corrected with a giggle. "I'll still be here when you get back, you know."

Tel stood but seemed reluctant to let go of her hand. "Promise?"

"Promise," Elara said, tugging his hand close to kiss the back of it before letting go. "Go get cleaned up. Get some proper sleep. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, dear," Tel chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. He gave her a surveying look, relief shining clear in his gaze, and headed off down the hall.

Elara watched him go, hoping he'd actually get enough sleep. It did make something warm curl in her chest, though, that after so long together he still cared that much.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

How could I forget, when you're the best thing that ever happened to me?

#angst prompts #queens fic #telcontar airen #elara dorne #telara #otp: 73 minutes #swtor #swtor fic #i think i get a 'you tried' star for this bc the back half makes it more hurt/comfort than angst?#i'm sorry i just have to make things better when i hurt my chlldren or their significant other

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