#haymitch x fem!reader

[onlybeeewrites]

Finding Magic

Request: May I request a hunger games request Haymitch x wife reader, she is a district 12 victor from the laye 50's games. She is around 4-8 years younger than him. It is set in district 13, we see him with their young daughter named after his fellow 50th game tribute and just fluff, please Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!reader

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x wife!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: SUNRISE ON THE REAPING SPOILERS, characters mentioned

A/N: the first of many Haymitch requests UGH I loved this and seeing soft Haymitch. Enjoy!! <3 ~~~~~~~~

The quarters in District 13 weren’t much—gray walls, stiff bedding, and a distinct lack of anything that could be called personal. Everything was practical, assigned, and strictly regulated, from the meals to the uniforms to the way time itself seemed to tick by in rigid blocks.

But somehow, you had made it feel like home. Haymitch wasn’t sure how she did it. Maybe it was the warmth she carried with her, the way she never let the weight of their reality smother the small joys you still managed to carve out of the days. Or maybe it was the way you saw things—not just for what they were, but for what they could be.

Even here, underground, you made the world seem bigger.

Your ten year old daughter, Louella was sprawled out on the cold floor, utterly lost in the book she held, her small fingers gripping the worn pages as if they contained the secrets of the universe.

Haymitch could see the crease between her brows, the slight parting of her lips as she whispered words under her breath, tasting them as she read. Whatever world she had discovered in those pages had its hooks in her now, and nothing short of an emergency would pull her out of it.

And you sat nearby, your head bent over a needle and thread, patching up yet another hole in your daughter’s jumpsuit. It wasn’t the first tear she’d fixed this week, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Louella was always running, climbing, sneaking into places she wasn’t supposed to be. She had the boundless energy of someone who had never known anything but motion.

Haymitch liked to pretend he didn’t know where she got that rebellious streak from, but between your quiet defiance and his own tendency to do exactly the opposite of what people expected, the girl hadn’t stood a chance.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching them for a moment before speaking. “What’s she reading this time?”

You didn’t look up, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Poetry. About magic.”

Haymitch raised a brow and pushed off the wall, making his way over before flopping down beside Louella. “Magic, huh? Didn’t think District 13 allowed that kind of thing.”

Louella shot him an unimpressed look over the top of her book. “It’s poetry, Papa. Not spells.”

Haymitch smirked, leaning in as if she had just admitted to something scandalous. “Still sounds like nonsense.”

Louella let out a dramatic sigh and held up the book. “Just listen.”

She cleared her throat, straightened her back, and read aloud:

“The wind hums secrets through the trees,

The river sings to passing bees.

The sky bends low to kiss the land,

And leaves spell stories in the sand.”

She closed the book with a decisive little snap and looked up expectantly, waiting for his reaction.

Haymitch tilted his head. “Huh. Not bad.”

Louella beamed, victorious, and turned to her mother. “See? Even he likes it.”

You chuckled, tying off the stitch with practiced ease. “Took him long enough.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes but turned back to Louella. “So, you really think there’s magic in all that?”

Louella nodded eagerly. “Mama says magic is just seeing things the right way. Like when the sun looks like melted gold, or when the air smells different before a storm.”

You take a pause, setting down the sewing, stretching your fingers before smiling at your daughter. “My family always believed in magic,” you said, voice soft with nostalgia,

“We grew up in the fields, and we saw it in everything—the way fireflies danced like little stars, the hush of the earth before the first snowfall, the way seeds always knew how to find the sun.”

Louella’s eyes widened in that way only a child’s could, full of wonder and longing for things just out of reach. “I wish I could’ve seen all that.”

You smiled fondly, brushing a curl from Louella’s face. “You still can, sweetheart. Magic’s in the little things. You just have to know how to look.”

Haymitch snorted, shaking his head. “That why people used to call your family wild?”

That caused you to smirked at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Of course. You’d know that. You’d also remember that people often said we were odd for believing in things you couldn’t hold in your hands. But it takes special people to see the magic in little things.”

Louella grinned. “Good thing I’m special, then.”

Haymitch hummed, “yes you are, sweetheart,” he said glancing between the two of them—you, his wife, with your quiet strength and stubborn belief in things bigger than themselves, and his daughter, practically glowing with excitement at the idea of unseen wonders hiding in the world around her.

Louella yawned, rubbing at her eyes but still stubbornly gripping her book. “Can I read one more?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall—lights-out was soon, and rules were strict here. But sighed, a small, indulgent smile on your lips. “Just one more.” How could you deny one of the few pleasures you were able to indulge in?

Louella grinned and flipped through the pages, searching for the perfect poem. Haymitch, meanwhile, leaned his head back against the wall, one arm draped lazily over your shoulders.

He wasn’t much for poetry, but he liked the sound of Louella’s voice as she read, soft and full of belief. Reminding him so much of you.

“The stars will shine beyond the dark,

Their light will never wane.

A whispered wish, a hopeful heart,

And magic stays the same.”

Luella looked up, blinking sleepily. “That means magic is always there, right? Even when we can’t see it?”

You ran her fingers through Louella’s hair. “That’s right.”

Haymitch huffed. “Poetry’s got a lot of nerve making promises like that.”

Louella giggled, pressing her face into his side. “You just don’t get it, Dad.”

He smirked, pulling the blanket up over her. “Guess not.”

She let out another small yawn, and this time, her eyes didn’t open again. Haymitch exhaled, shifting to pick her up. She made a sleepy sound of protest as he scooped her into his arms, but she didn’t fight it, just curled against his chest like she’d done since she was little.

You stood and followed as he carried Louella to the small cot she called a bed. He tucked her in, smoothing down the blanket while you brushed her hair back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Haymitch stayed there a moment longer, watching as Louella breathed slow and deep, already lost in dreams. He reached out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Sleep tight, wild thing.”

She didn’t stir. You slipped your hand into his, lacing their fingers together as they stepped back from the bed.

Haymitch pressed a kiss to you temple as they settled onto their own bed. “You’re gonna turn her into a dreamer.”

You smiled against his shoulder. “Good. The world needs more of them.”

Haymitch didn’t answer right away. He just held you a little tighter, his fingers absently tracing slow, idle patterns against your arm.

Even after all these years, it still felt surreal sometimes—having this family, having you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you, standing on that stage at seventeen, trying to keep your face blank as your name was called. He’d been your mentor then, five years after winning himself. And he had been forced to watch 10 kids die since then. He was sure you would be the 12th.

And so he was forced to watch as you stepped into the arena, as you fought. But this time you proved everyone wrong as you won.

He had known, back then, what kind of person would walk out of that place. What it took to survive.

But you had come back still you, against all odds. You had come back stubborn and sharp and kind in ways the Capitol couldn’t kill. You still held onto who you were. And that alone was the perfect act of rebellion.

And somehow, in the years that followed, through nightmares and rebellion and the slow, aching process of trying to be something more than just survivors—you had found your way to each other eventually. And then became more.

Then two, became three. You had sobbed in his arms when you found out, fearing the day that she too would have to be reaped from the bowl of names. With a high chance of her dying in that god forsaken arena. The guilt, Haymitch remembered, took such a toll on you.

“How could I do this? Bring a child into this world?” You had once said. But after some time you had come to terms with the baby—Luella. Light in the dark. And a memorial name after the one of the tributes from Haymitch’s games. A sweet little girl you remembered from the Seam.

But now, you all were here, in a dimly lit room beneath the earth, with the most incredible daughter who believed in poetry and magic, in a place where hope was hard to hold on to.

And yet, somehow, you still did.

Haymitch exhaled, pressing his forehead against your hair. “You know,” he muttered, “I always knew you were trouble.”

You laughed softly, shifting closer. “Oh? Since when?”

“Since you looked me in the eye after they called your name and didn’t cry.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “Since you gave me an attitude that first day on the train. And especially afterward,”

Your fingers brushed against his hand, lacing together. “Guess that means you didn’t do a terrible job as a mentor.”

Haymitch huffed a small, dry laugh. “Didn’t do a great one, either.”

You squeezed his hand, tilting her head at him. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He didn’t answer, just pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You were here. You were still you. Even after everything you both had gone through.

Maybe that was magic too.

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING

HELLO! The lack of Haymitch content makes me wanna cry so I decided to step in. English is not my first language so please have mercy ✌️

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

MASTERLIST

*gif not mine*

1. Bad feeling

Life in District 12 is nowhere to be great, but there are few aspects that make life easier. You can grow plants in the garden, if you have it. People are nice, mostly they threat you with kindness, even Peacekeepers. You are always nice to everyone, and nobody has been a problem. Your adoptive mother, Holly, taught you to stay out of problems and riots and focus to become a great part of the community instead. You are so grateful towards her that you would do anything to make her happy, not to mention it isn’t hard to act kind.

You are quite happy with your life. A part from the fact that you are always hungry - quite a habit, but at the age of twenty four you are strong and ready to work a lot. 

You are a great babysitter for the children of the district, when the mothers have to work after the pregnancy you step in line and take care of their babies. You clean the houses of the Major, of the Peacekeepers and the Victors - which is one, by the way, but always pay in time. You want to become a teacher, but you have to wait a year or so to try the test again. You failed. Yes, big time, big tears, but you got back to work and have faith for the future. 

At the age of 24 you look nice, you think. Raven hair, hazel eyes, not really tall, you are content with your physical aspect. You aren't married, though. You never had any suitors, your family being miners and you being… busy. You are gentle, but never open. To boyfriends, to new possibilities. 

Oh, and you are utterly in love with the kinda-old-man you are working for. But that is just a little detail.

Life in the District is a routine, and you like it.

Yes, you are happy. The kind of happiness who leads you to sing while you are cleaning, at least until your surly boss yells at you to stop.

You were happy. Until you watched the television.

After the 74th edition of the Hunger Games everything changed in the district and, I think, in the Capitol too. For the first time in ages a girl and a boy from our home won, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. And for the first time ever, two kids. They managed to stay alive declaring their love for each other. You were really happy at first, because you have known Katniss and Peeta since they were kids. And for the food they provided with the victory too, you have to be honest. After several months, though, you can sense something is wrong. Everybody, including your boss, is nervous. Well, more nervous and skittish - and drunk -  than usual. Katniss and Peeta are always around Haymitch’s house, never together - which is weird since they are supposed to be a couple - and they talk with a low voice, usually in the garden where the geese are. You stay out of the way, not wanting any of that business. You are here to clean the mess, tidy up the rowdyness he calls home and settle a way of living that’s tolerable. One time you opened the door and Capitol men were there, looking for Haymitch (who was in bed, drunk as hell). They were terrifying, and you practically hide until they were gone. 

It happens in a brief moment. You are cleaning Haymitch’s house, the biggest house you’ve ever seen, and the television is on. It’s almost mandatory to watch the television during programs like these, because Snow wants every citizen to know the news. You expect to see the same statement, like every year. “And so it was decreed that, each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice.”

Not this time, tho. President Snow, seated in his white luxurious chair with his devious blue eyes and white hair, pronounces these words: “This edition of the Hunger Games is the 75th Quarter Quell, a glorified year. For the 75th Hunger Games it is therefore decreed that this year the various districts of Panem will offer up, in tribute, a man and a woman from the age of eighteen to the age of thirty to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol.” 

From 18 to 30. And you are twenty-four. 

You can barely register what you’ve seen that you feel your legs abandoning you, and you faint.

You wake up in someone's arms, confused and horrified.

«Let's get you on the couch, sweetheart.»

Haymitch. You are surprised he is sober enough to acknowledge you are there, even if not enough to catch you before the fall.

You feel so stupid. You fainted. But then again, you were sure you escaped the torture of the Hunger Games the minute you turned nineteen.

He trembles to the couch and you are so grateful for him.

Haymitch Abernathy. The man who pays you to keep his house - his life - in order and clean. The old grumpy man who sometimes makes you laugh, but most of the times shut his door because he’s too drunk to be seen by anyone, let alone a young girl. He’s never violent towards you, but you can see he is very scared of the possibility. 

Six months before you were struggling with your job, wanting something more to feed your family. You were just have been rejected from the teacher test, and very sadly began to ask anyone for work. After two or three men who mentioned in hilarious tones the kind of jobs you definitely didn't want, Haymitch stepped up and just looked at you.

«How do you feel about geese?» Was the only, very odd question.

«They are fine.» You lied. You hated geese, they were filthy animals who liked to bite. But you needed a job that didn't require a lack of clothes.

And it was Haymitch, everybody knew him from the district and even if he wasn’t so beloved he was respected. A victor at fifteen, now forty one, despite his drinking problem made him look older, dark circles under his grey eyes and a weird long haircut for his dirty blonde hair. Still pretty handsome in a rough way, in a very rough way, in a “I need a shower for days and maybe a new shirt” way. 

«Here's the deal: you clean my home, I'll give you money. You stay out of my way, and never wake me when I'm drunk. Understood?And I say that for you. Deal?»

«Yes sir.»

«Deal.»

Six months later you are on his couch, as pale as a ghost.

«Your geese.» you mumble. It doesn't really make sense, but the first thought is that if you are on Capitol and Haymitch is your mentor nobody will feed the birds from hell, as you lovingly call them.

«My what? I'm the one who's drunk, right?» He seems worried, in spite of his inebriation.

«Right.» You agree. You have to adjust a little. Not to mention, he is the one who can give you money, and it’s for the best if you don’t act like you lost your mind. «I was just thinking… I better go. I’ll come back later for the bottles.»

«Darling.» He stops me, just for a brief moment, without smiling. «They won’t pick you.»

You smile right back at him, but you can’t help to have a bad feeling about that.

The day of the reaping you are standing over your bad, unable to put your dress on. You clearly remember the fear of the Games, of the names, of the voice of frickin’ Effie Trinket. You were never paralysed, tho, not like this. Maybe because you were younger and reckless, maybe because something in your head always told you the name wasn’t gonna be you.

Daisy Pinecone. It wasn’t even your real name, Holly just picked it when you were little because it reminded her of a fairytale, and adoptive parents can decide their children’s names. 

“You sound stupid, Daisy. There are a lot of young people in the district, it’s not gonna be you”. You immediately feel guilty about the thought, because even if it’s not you, it’s going to be your friend, colleague or school mate. 

These games are so fucked up. You could never say that out loud, but this is the reality everybody thinks. If only someone could gather them together, maybe… the districts are more than the Capitol City. They provide food, minerals, Panem would starve in a week. 

You shake your head, it’s nonsense. They already tried, and this is the whole point of the Hunger Games, a punishment. But it’s not unfair. 

Holly helps you with the hair, making a simple braid with daisies in it, that you think it’s nearly too in brand for someone who won’t be picked, but you can’t bet against the odds, and in the worst possibility it’s great for publicity. 

Holly is a wreck, but it’s always sad at this time of the year. She’s the midwife of District 12, she knows every child in this place, and every year she watches someone she loves who’s going to get murdered. Something like this led Haymitch to perpetual drunkenness. 

You wish you could say a word to comfort her, but nothing comes out from your mouth. You can’t make promises. You have to thank her for everything, she literally saw you being born and then, when your mother died, she decided to adopt you. 

She pats your shoulder, and you give her a brief smile. 

The street to the place is full of people with nice dresses and a scared expression of their faces. You take your seat, as you realise you have weird thoughts, like that you are grateful because you don’t have a dog that could miss you, or worse, a child. 

Effie Trinket is approaching in a bright pink dress, pink skin and a violet wig, and you almost feel bad for the names you called her during the previous nights. You begin to like Effie, she always smiles at you when she visits Haymitch, unlike the other people from Capitol. And right now you could swear that she’s shaking despite the smile she puts on her face. You saw her with Katniss and Peeta, the way she pats their head and caresses their cheek it’s not faking, she actually cares about them. She may be a brainwashed Capitol starlet, but she is a kind hearted one.

Haymitch arrives, drunker than usual - every year is worse, but this year it’s different, after the awards at Capitol everybody thought he would’ve act presentable - and so Katniss and Peeta. 

Your heart skips a beat. “Your name is there only once”, you keep repeating to yourself.

Effie stays five minutes with her hand in the bowl, reluctant to pick a string of paper. After what it feels to be an eternity, she says a name.

No - not a name. 

Your name.

[allisluv]

First off congrats on 200!!! I feel like it hasn’t been that long since 100 followers.

💍 I would like to request something with the victors ie Johanna, Finnick, Haymitch (gloss, Enobaria, cashmere, Cecelia, Mags if you want) before the quarter quell. Reader is a victor from District 8 and their talent is crocheting so they go around crocheting little animals for the other victors. Could you write something about what animal Reader would give the victors and their reaction? 😁

ooooo i love this so much!!

i think you would crochet johanna a black cat. its her spirit animal like if i cracked her soul open, that's what i would expect to see.

finnick would love a blue whale or a starfish. i think theyre his favorite animals and he would give them designated spots on his bed.

you would make katniss a copy of buttercup and she scoffs, pretends to hate it, but sleeps with it in her arms every night.

i feel like peeta would really appreciate a koala or maybe a sloth. don't ask me why because i dont have a clue, its just a gut feeling.

haymitch would recieve a grizzly bear with a bottle of alcohol in its hand. he fucking loves it

[oweninadaydream]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫 ||𝐇.𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲

summary : Haymitch finds solace in a friendship with young (Y/N). Now Haymitch is outside, watching. (Y/N) is in the Arena, fighting.

song inspo: "There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair" - The Great War by Taylor Swift

pairing : Haymitch Abernathy x fem!reader (platonic)

word count : 1.8 k

contains : angst, hurt no comfort, betrayal, found family trope, violence, some gore, death, this story is set way before Katniss and Peeta's games. Also, first time writing for this character so probably a bit OC Haymitch hahaha.

a/n : Here you have my first moodboard !!! I wanted to try and capture the vibes of the story in three images and I'm pretty proud of myself. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story :) PD: shoutout to @sarahisslytherin for being so supportive everytime I have a crisis hahaha. Comments are always appreciated 🩷

“I think it’s time I have another dose of that medicine they've sent'' she said as a cue for him to get up from his spot and hand her the remedy inside the metallic jar. (Y/N) had been sick for a day and a half and, even though it was the boy's fault that they had encountered the monster that had bitten her, she wasn’t holding it against him. She knew she could trust him ; at the end of the day, the male tribute from her district had made an alliance with her and she had been doing everything in her power so that he didn’t die. He stood up and handed her the jar. 

Haymitch had awoken suddenly after falling asleep on the couch while watching the games in the room designated to the mentors. The constant worry was affecting his sleep schedule and his appetite detrimentally. Not for the boy, no ; he didn’t give a shit about that brat who had skipped all the training sessions and had dismissed his mentor every time he tried to give them valuable advice. He was anxiously picking his lips for her, for (Y/N).

People thought Haymitch had met her after the Reaping, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Ever since (Y/N) was little, she roamed the District streets in solitude, as her mother had died and her father was extremely neglectful towards her. A younger Haymitch had recently become the District 12's victor and was beginning to develop a certain addiction to alcohol when, one cold afternoon, he encountered a young child by the gates of Victors Village.

Her sparkly eyes caught his tired gaze and a stare contest began. "I don't have time for this bullshit" he crankly thought while looking away. She asked him his name and that if that big house was his. He turned around and wondered whether he should engage in a conversation with the child who obviously had no better place to be at. He noticed the kid was underfed and didn't wear any winter clothes. The heart that had stopped beating after surviving the Hunger games came back to life , like a phoenix being reborn from its ashes. From that day on a very special bond was created between the two unfortunate souls. He was still very grumpy and had a little problem with drinking, but (Y/N) made him want to do better. She was incredibly smart and her sarcasm was one of the very few things that made the former tribute laugh. Their talks and dinners were a secret to the rest of the world ; he couldn't risk hurting the girl he had grown to love as a daughter.

He soon discovered her birthday was the day after the Reaping. This year she would turn 19 and the panic the Reaping used to cause her would finally end. Just one more year of not getting chosen and she could live a peaceful life, just like she had always dreamed of. The latter year Haymitch had been talking about taking her in as his daughter, as her father had also passed away. But before that could happen, the most disgustingly ironic thing happened.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)" 

One day, she only needed one more day. But it seemed useless to whine about something that would not change anyway. The other tribute was a boy nobody really talked to, so neither she nor Haymitch had any idea of what to expect from him. To say that the mentor was devastated was an understatement. But he could not show it, his face impassible as ever instead. 

He was there for every meltdown before the dozens of events, for every doubt she could have about how to make it out of the Arena alive, for every nightmare about what fate had planned for her. Haymitch observed with a worried frown how nobody approached (Y/N) during training week ; she was very astute but her mentor had stressed the importance of making alliances in order to have more chances to survive, and seeing how she was going to be all alone out there compressed his chest with acute pain.

He did everything in his power to prepare her for the multiple dangers she could be facing out there. Still, Haymitch’s mind couldn’t help but explore the darkest scenarios ; optimism was never one of his qualities. In the end, the apathetic boy from 12 decided to make an effort at the end of training season and he turned out to be a magnificent and stealthy climber ; he also started to get close to (Y/N) and they decided to team up. The change of attitude shocked Haymitch but since (Y/N) was much more calm and focused, he didn't put too much thought into it.

The District 12 mentor stared at the bright screen in front of him and watched how (Y/N) was sound asleep. The last 3 hours had been pretty dull on their part of the prefabricated habitat : he had gone out to collect some wood and after he had returned, he lit a fire and offered to watch out for any intruders while she slept. 

Suddenly, Haymitch noticed how the young male had started pacing back and forth in a nervous manner. His instinct of suspecting of everything anyone does kicked in very quickly. The tribute started sobbing heavily as he wielded the dagger he had managed to obtain from the cornucopia a few days earlier. His shaky hands lifted the weapon in the air and, with all the strength the teenager possessed, he stabbed her. 

The blade of his dagger penetrated her back with disturbing ease. He felt as if someone had put him on autopilot and, despite (Y/N) turning to feebly try to defend herself from the unexpected attack, he kept her still against the cold ground and continued to inflict the fatal wounds.

Her shuddering screams reached her assailant's ears like a distant echo. On the television, however, (Y/N)'s last words were perfectly understandable. His name. She was screaming his name. Haymitch couldn't quite detect whether the screams were a conscious call as a hurried form of farewell or a primal instinct in search of comfort triggered by a delusional pain that caused her to abandon all logic or coherent thought. If he had to bet, he would go for the second option, considering how quickly she was bleeding to death and the panicked expression on her face as she realized her life was rapidly coming to an end.

The stabs were becoming significantly weaker and that could only mean that the adrenaline rush that had originally enabled him to act in favor of his secret plan had slowly faded, only to leave him stranded in the tragic reality he had created. The screams stopped quite quickly, as she was choking on her own blood. The lack of cries caught the attention of the aggressor, who looked down and saw how (Y/N) breathed out for the last time. His shirt was a crimson mess. However,  nothing could compare with the bloody puddle that was coming out of her body. 

Leaving no time to mourn or process the scene in front of him, the Careers appeared and found the violent scene already over. Without an ounce of remorse or repulse, one of the District 1 tributes made their way towards the paralyzed teen and the corpse.

“There’s no time to waste. Give us her supplies, we’ll take them to our hidden spot in the skirts of the mountain. Meanwhile, you must go to the Cornucopia and bring some more food and weapons. You’ll join us later” The commanding voice of the male tribute intimidated the boy from 12 who obediently began to hand them what used to be (Y/N)’s : the matching axes, the food she had collected and had determined to be safe to consume, the medicine that was supposed to help her heal from the bites of the venomous creature. 

Haymitch beheld the horrific scene shown on the gigantic TV totally disassociated from reality ; he couldn’t move but the uneasiness crawling up his skin created a tight and uncomfortable feeling that he urgently needed to shake off. How could the boy be so stupid, so naive ? The Careers would kill him after he had completed the tasks they had ordered him to do; he was just a pawn in their master plan to win that hellish competition.

The camera pointed towards the interior of the cave where the body of the young woman laid still. Haymitch could barely recognize the corpse; that could not be the girl that brought light back to his life after living in the dark for so long or the young adult who respected him but also held him accountable when he messed up. No, that was not her. His brain could not assimilate the idea of her dying in such a vile and miserable way. That scum, poor excuse of a man would regret breaking his word, backstabbing his daughter like only a coward would.

He wished him a slow, painful and sanguinolent death. Actually, he wished he could have entered that damned Arena and done the job himself ; if you want something done right do it yourself, right? After a couple of seconds, the sound of the canyon and the image of (Y/N) projected in the sky appeared on the TV and as fast as they came, they disappeared from the screens, moving on to something much more entertaining for the expecting audience. 

He quickly excused himself from the room before anyone could begin to notice the grief in his expression. In the quietness of his private room, he started wailing and throwing everything in his way around, tearing all his belongings to pieces as a way to channelize his pain. After a while, he stopped only to approach the drinks cabinet provided by the generous Capitol, and he poured himself one of the many drinks he would have that night and the days to follow.

His heart began to develop another stone wall around itself, but this time it would never ever be destroyed, not like (Y/N) had managed to all those years ago. This time he would drown all his sorrow and any kind of emotion in all the types of liquors he could find. He would close himself to the world ; nobody would carve him open again, nobody would get so close to the real version of himself. He vowed then and there to abandon all hope and just let the years go by until the arrival of his final day. 

He exited the room only to sit on the balcony floor. While staring at the night sky, he felt a tear rolling down his left cheek ; after releasing a shaky breath, he raised the glass that contained his numbing remedy and murmured : 

" 'till we meet again, sweetheart"

[kahlanmars]

This would totally be a Daisy creation

Cucculelli Shaheen

[asterias-record-shop]

—𓆩[in our next life || EPILOGUE]𓆪—

𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 1.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - that I know of, there is none! maybe besides cursing(?) but it's pure fluff, just let me know if you think i should add anything!

Ten years later…

This would be the second rope being tied around your wrist, to the same man. Things were different now; the games were over, Finnick built you that house on the river bank, and you had a son this time too.

Your dress was similar to the one you had before, especially because Cinna designed this one too, but this time, it was much smaller than the ballgown you had before. It was still poofy, yes, but this time it was lined with pearls taken from your first dress in strands of gold. Your hair was pulled into your preferred style, a flower crown of white camellias, pearls stranded in your hair as well.

You probably loved this more than your first outfit, a white bouquet in your hands as well. You were going to cry even more this time, you were sure of it. When someone knocks, you turn with a quick confirmation for them to come in, Katniss peeking her head inside. “Someone wants to see you…”

You giggled as your son ran in, gasping loudly. “Momma, you look so pweety!”

You laughed at his childish dialect, smoothing down the front of your dress. “Yeah? You think papa will like it?”

He nods his head vigorously. “Yeah! And if he doesn’t, he’s crazy!”

You giggled, offering your empty hand. “Wanna walk mommy down the aisle?”

He continues to nod, running over. “Momma, I’m glad you’re getting remarried. That bracelet is dirty.”

You laughed, nodding with him. “Is it baby? Well good thing papa’s getting me another one, right?”

“Yeah!”

You named your son Atlas, and for heaven's sake, he came out exactly like Finnick. Golden hair and bright sea blue eyes, a perfect smile and the freckles you loved since you were a child.

He takes your hand, leading you out the room as Katniss follows behind. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

You smiled back at her, giggling. “Thank you, Katniss.”

You walked out the back door, stepping down the steps of the large wrap around porch Finnick had built himself. The second you stepped into the meadow of different kinds of wildflowers, all of the memories came flooding back.

“Finnick, we’re not supposed to be here!”

You whisper yelled at him as he dragged you to the edge of District 4, laughing.

“So? Come on, we’re almost there!” He pulls you harder, groaning. “Y/N, don’t be a scaredy-cat!”

You groaned. “My mother will kill me.”

He snorts. “Fuck your mother.”

You gasped, slapping his bicep before he sharply tugs you forward, a gasp falling from your lips before you screamed out as you both began rolling down the hill. His hand keeps your face in his neck as he laughs, your arms wrapping around him as his other hand holds your side.

You finally get to the bottom, Finnick laughing like the funniest thing in the world just happened as you sit on his chest, looking down at your grass stained dress. The Reaping would happen in a few days, and your mother had just bought you this dress. She would kill you if you came home like this.

“Finnick, my dress is all dirty!” You whine as he sits up.

“You’re so over dramatic, darling. We can clean it when we get back, look at all the flowers,” he says, smiling as he picks one and puts it behind your ear. “I know they’re your favorite.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you picked one and tucked it behind his ear. “My favorite wildflower, Finnick. Not my favorite in general.”

He laughed, clearing his throat. “My apologies, your majesty, your favorite wildflower. Is there any way you could possibly forgive me?”

You giggle, humming. “I mean… I guess so,” you say, making him grin before you boop his nose. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

He starts to blush, but hums. “Oh yeah? What?”

You purse your lips, letting out a soft ‘hmph’ as you fix yourself on Finnick’s lap. “Well, if I’m your highness, that means I’m queen, right?”

He purses his lips in response, nodding. “Yes, it does.”

“Well then, you can be my knight. To protect me and stay with me for the rest of my life. Sounds good?”

He smiled widely, nodding. “Sounds good. I’ll be your knight, Y/N?”

You put up your hand, offering your pinky. “Promise?”

He smiled, nodding as he wrapped his pinky around yours before pushing his hand up. “Lock it.”

You do, watching as he kissed your overlapping thumbs before doing the same. “You can’t break it now, Finnick!”

He nods before smirking. “Y’know, we just shared saliva.”

Your brow ruffled. “No we didn’t.”

“You kissed after me,” he teased, chuckling. “That means you got some of my saliva in your mouth.”

You blushed madly, quickly wiping your lips. “Finnick! Don’t say that!”

He laughed as he pressed his face into your neck. “Oh come on! Knights and queens belong together.”

You purse your lips. “No, kings and queens belong together.”

“Knights and queens make better pairs,” he says immediately before humming. “Y/N, I want to do something.”

Your brow ruffled. “Okay?”

He shook his head. “With you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop and I will, I promise, but I’ve been wanting to do it with you for a while.”

You nodded. “Okay, I will. What is it, Finnick?”

He blushed madly, cheeks turning a bright red as he looked away. “C-Can you close your eyes?”

You do, closing them tightly before something soft lands on your lips. You don’t realize it at first, but Finnick was kissing you. Your lifelong crush was kissing you.

You don’t open your eyes until he pulls away, slowly finding his eyes as he swallows. “W-Was that okay?”

You look at him confused. “Did you just kiss me, Finnick?”

He looked away, mumbling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah I did,” he was blushing madly. “I just… I‘ve been wanting to do it for a while and-”

You pressed your lips to his before he could even finish, holding his cheeks before pulling away. It was soft and quick, but that’s all you really needed. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you rub them softly, clearing your throat. “I uhm… you don’t have to ask next time.”

He starts to smile. “So I can kiss you whenever I want?”

You shove him. “Of course not, dummy! We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend!”

His smile falls. “Why not?”

Your brow furrowed. “You… you want to be?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says quickly, fixing the flower over your ear. “I want to love you until the end of time.”

“Forever?” You ask and he nods.

“And when we meet again in our next life.”

You inhaled shakily as you stood at the end of the white carpet rolled out between the chairs of people, only the most significant you truly wanted to come. Finnick stood on the dock, hands ringing together nervously before he saw you. His jaw drops as he stares, Cinna grinning as he stands between him and where you were going to stand.

Mags had sadly died a few months before Atlas was born, peacefully with you and Finnick by her side. Of course you were heartbroken, but you also knew you would meet again in your next life.

The drums started to play as Atlas tugged on your hand making you look down at him.

“Mama, are you okay? Daddy’s crying.”

You look at Finnick who, sure enough, had tears rolling down his cheeks before he wiped at them.

“Yes baby,” you whisper, your own eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m amazing, I’m so, so happy.”

“Well, come on!”

You laughed as he tugged you down the aisle, waving at everyone as Haymitch and Effie grin at you. You smiled widely at them, wiping at your cheeks as you finally got to the dock where the drums stopped.

Atlas ran around you both, running to Cinna who sighed loudly.

“And at last, the day has finally come,” he says, announcing it to everyone here. “Where the King and Queen of Panem are getting married again.”

You can feel the rope being wrapped around you both, your hand holding one end as you stare up at Finnick who leaned his forehead against yours. Cinna continues to speak as Finnick takes the other end, Katniss and Peeta stepping forward to do the same thing they did the first time, but this time, they cut off the previous rope from your wrists before melting the second one around again.

“I have a gift for you both,” Cinna says as the rope stays wrapped around you both, slowly taking a box from his pocket before opening it. “To add onto your rings.”

You gasped as he took out two more rings, one a thinner band with a pearl on it made for Finnick while the other was a vine-shaped gold with a pearl on it as well. He slips them both onto your fingers as you look up at Finnick, eyes watering as he sighed. “I fucking love you, Y/N Odair. I love you so much.”

You giggled, stroking his cheek. “I love you, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and in our next life.”

He sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Until the end of time and in our next life, darling.”

“Give her a real kiss, Finnick!” Effie shouts, Atlas groaning in disgust as Finnick pulls his hand from the rope, both of his strong palms resting on your jaw as he pulls you closer, kissing you passionately.

You could taste the slight saltiness from the tears, but you groaned against his lips as you pulled him closer, lower. Everyone cheers as Atlas groans once again.

“Stop being nasty!”

You giggle as you pull away, smiling up at him again. “I love you too, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and when we meet in our next life.”

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪

In our next life taglist: 𓆩[@poppet05]𓆪   𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@jewelrybean25]𓆪   𓆩[@arzua10]𓆪   𓆩[@savagemickey03]𓆪   𓆩[@ok-boke]𓆪   𓆩[@instabull]𓆪   𓆩[@maxinehufflepuffprincess]𓆪   𓆩[@starryeddie]𓆪   𓆩[@ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations]𓆪   𓆩[@taestrwbrry]𓆪   𓆩[@iveraly]𓆪   𓆩[@b1llzb1tch]𓆪   𓆩[@avoxrising]𓆪   𓆩[@aquawhore]𓆪   𓆩[@luna-ann]𓆪   𓆩[@maliaaaa]𓆪   𓆩[@jyessaminereads]𓆪   𓆩[@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere]𓆪   𓆩[@crowleysqueenofhell]𓆪   𓆩[@alexa-33]𓆪   𓆩[@wh0re4life]𓆪 𓆩[@duwcsd]𓆪   𓆩[@nyainterlu4ee]𓆪 𓆩[@magical-spit]𓆪

omg. OMG. THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! OMG!

This is the last chapter, omg. With a heavy heart, this is (kinda) the end! I will start taking requests for Finnick in this universe, the link to request is in at the top! Don't be shy my loves!

© asterias-record-shop

[moonlightkitties]

Chapter One

Summary: Your 18th birthday came by like a flash, it was your last year until you could stop putting your name in the reaping and work in the coal mine. Everything was going smooth, until your name got pulled from the cup as the female tribute for the 69th annual Hunger Games.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,596

You stare out of the window of your family's little run down shack. It wasn't the best, the wooden floors creaked each time you or your siblings walked, the windows would barely close making it colder at night, and you could hear your parents arguing from the too thin walls. You were the oldest of three younger siblings; Fern, eight. Glenn, fourteen, and Grayson, sixteen. Today marked your eighteenth birthday which always fell on July 4th, or more specifically Reaping Day. You were nervous, as always, but giddy, if you could just get through the dreaded afternoon then you would be in the clear and start your early shift at the coal mine with your father.

You glance at the worn down clock at reside in your makeshift living room, it was four hours before two in the afternoon, when the escort for District Twelve would pick the names from the reaping bowl. You hadn't expected to survive this long, though you'd always hope you would. There was something in the air that made it seem like this year it would be different, like a good different, the type of different like you didn't have to fear for your life every year and the type of different where you didn't have to rely on a slip of paper to decide your future.

You pulled yourself off of the window seal and made your way down to the bedroom where you sleep with your siblings. Outfits, which were only used for special occasions such as these, were set on your bed. A nice blue dress that reminded you of the sky on clear days, the same for Fern and matching shirts and pants for Glenn and Grayson.

After bathing in the lukewarm water your mother left out for you, you pulled on your dress and helped Glenn button his shirt.

Your mind wandered towards the reaping and if, which it was a rare chance, you would get picked, you would have to deal with...Haymitch Abernathy. Even thinking about him made you cringe. You've seen him around the hob, drinking his days away at the makeshift bar and at sometimes you felt bad for him but you've seen his drunken outbursts and the way he treated people. You shook your head and glanced at the clock, an hour passed since you got dressed. The front door swung open and your father, who got the day off since it was a "federal" holiday, walked in. Fern squealed and raced into his arms, a protective feeling and wave of anxiety rushed through you as you realized that one day, little eight year old Fern would turn twelve and have to put her name in the reaping bowl.

You took a deep breath, she would have four more years until then, you had nothing to worry about.

Your father gave you a smile and you noticed he had something behind his back. Fern tried to look behind him but he gently pushed her away and walked over to you. "I heard it was someone's birthday," he said, pulling his arms in front of him and held a black and white puppy. You gasped "No way!" you exclaimed, you picked the puppy up and she instantly started licking your cheeks, "Did you talk to mom about this?" you asked, holding the pup close.

"Of course I did, stop worrying so much," he said, scratching the puppy behind her ears.

"Where'd you find her?" Glenn asked, coming into the hall.

"A co-worker had pups and gave them to whoever wanted em'" he explained.

Your mother walked in, wiping her hands on her apron, she smiled at her husband and her eyes landed on the puppy that was in your arms. Although she looked happy for you, you could tell she wasn't happy with the extra mouth to feed.

"Your cake is in the oven, I was thinking we could have it after the reaping," you mother said, kissing your forehead. You nodded "Yeah, that's fine," you said. Your mother nodded "Right, well, what are you going to name your puppy?" She asked and you shrugged "I dunno...I gotta think about it first."

Fern pouted and stomped her foot "I wanna puppy!" she whined and your father tutted "Fern, we don't act like that, the puppy is (y/n)s gift, not yours." Fern huffed but didn't say more.

You walked into your room and set the puppy on your bed and tried to conjure up some names.

You're mind wander back to the song your parents would sing you and your brothers at night, way before Fern was alive.

"How about Willow?" you asked the pup, it's tail wagged, possibly indicating that she liked it.

"Maybe when you're older you can go out hunting we me and dad," you told her.

Every Saturday and Sunday you and your father would go out and hunt, so you could illegally sell it in the Hob and your mother could fix food for the week.

-----------

Hours passed and hugged your parents, brothers and Fern as you made your way towards the square where the reaping would take place. Fern, like every year, starts crying and holds onto you as your mother tries to get her off. You promise her you're going to be okay and make your way towards the huge group of other young women waiting their fate.

The escort, a young woman named Robin Daebreik, has been District Twelves escort for at least three years. According to the peacekeepers you regular hangout with in the hob, she is an incredibly strict and like you, can't stand Haymitch.

"Welcome, to the 69th annual Hunger Games," she began, her capital accent ran across the square, her bright colored red wig and too much makeup made her stand out between the emaciated children that stood in front of her.

You looked over towards the stage, usually the mentor, ergo Haymitch, would stand near the mayor. You spotted him, his messy dirty blonde hair was unkept and greasy and you cringed at the thought of being near him.

"As always, we will start with the girls," she walked over to the reaping bowl, put her hand in and pulled out a white slip of paper. You could hear and see the girls around you freeze and whimper in fear. Friends and sisters alike grabbed onto each others hands. You froze to and your breath felt like it was caught in your throat.

She opened the slip and her pursued lips let out nine words that you never once in your eighteen years of living would hear.

"The female tribute for District Twelve is (y/n) Nightingale."

You froze for what seemed like forever before you forced your legs to move in between the other girls. Robin gave you a smile and motioned for you to come up onto the stage of the Justice Building. You could hear your mother cries from the back of the crowd and you could spot Glenn and Grayson looking horrified as they stared at you.

You glanced back at Haymitch, who caught your eye and smirked, you rolled your eyes and faced forward, waiting for Robin Daebreik to announce the male tribute.

"Now, for the boys," Robin continued once the crowd calmed down.

She put her hand in the boys reaping bowl and pulled out a single white paper, she unraveled it and said "The male tribute from District Twelve is Rowan Novak." You looked towards Grayson, you could tell he was about to raise his hand to volunteer as tribute, but you quickly shook your head, he had to take care of them and take over your place when you and your father went hunting during the weekends.

Grayson stayed down and Rowan, whos lightly tanned skin shone and his dark brown curly hair was unkept like he didn't mind brushing it at least for this "occasion" and his green eyes held a twinge of mischief.

"Well then," Robin giggled "Lets give it up for District Twelves tributes!" she exclaimed. Your mother was still sobbing in the back of the crowd and no one clapped. You and Rowan were escorted into the Justice Building and were held in separate rooms. The door opened and Grayson quickly walked over to you, his eyes were saddened and he looked grief-stricken, like you were already dead.

"Listen to me," you began, "you're going to have to step up, okay?" Grayson nodded "I-I will, but, what are you going to do?" he asked "You've never killed someone before," he finished. You put your arms on his shoulders "I'm going to be okay, alright?" he nodded and a Peacekeeper took him away and your parents, Fern, and Glenn replaced him. Your mother wailed and pulled you into a hug, her tears were soaking your dress and Fern whimpered from behind your father's leg.

"I'm going to be okay, Ma," you tell her, hugging her back. She sniffed and pulled away "You don't know that," she whispered "This isn't fair, we were supposed to go back home and eat your cake," she hiccupped out. Your father gently pulled her away and into his arms. You bent down to hug Fern and when your mom and her both left, your eyes filled with tears as your father pulled you into a safe, warm hug. He shushed you and you felt safe for a few moments until a Peacekeeper took him away.

After the door slammed shut, you looked around, you were alone, and absolutely terrified for what the future held.

Tag List: @nevermorefanfics

[writersblockiskillingme]

The Hunger Games Taglist

All -> @caroline-books @justgayloringeverthrone @superlegend216 @hiireadstuff @leftmooncollector

Finnick Odair -> @prettyinsatiable @randomgurl2326 @hellonheels-x @livingdead-reilly @writesleah @justgayloringeverthrone @paigehughes28

Katniss Everdeen -> @f4riedimples @justgayloringeverthrone

Johanna Mason -> @justgayloringeverthrone @katiemay-025

[onlybeeewrites]

May I request a hunger games request

Haymitch x wife reader, she is a district 12 victor from the laye 50's games. She is around 4-8 years younger than him. It is set in district 13, we see him with their young daughter named after his fellow 50th game tribute and just fluff, please

Hi darling! UGH Thank you for the Haymitch request. I loved this so much.

I love Haymitch and he deserves the world.

I really hope you enjoy it! : Finding Magic

[moonslesbology]

The Lucky One I

prologue - next chapter

YEARS HAD PASSED AND NOTHING ABOUT FINNICK ODAIR REALLY CHANGED, ALWAYS REMAINING THE KID WITH CUTS ON HIS HANDS AND HIS HEART ON HIS SLEEVE. Though, he was always annoyed at Eleanor for taking longer shifts than necessary at St Magdalene Rossetti  and exhausting herself to an unneeded extent. That was his only complain, though Eleanor didn't care though. She preferred the serenity of a doctor's office over the dead silence of a house. Yes, she was only seventeen, but doctors in District 4 were a rarity, not to mention the teenager had been learning all you can about anatomy since she was eight.

She had decided that her potential future as a doctor was much more plausible than becoming a career, fully leaving the academy after Finnick's games just two years prior. Though both Annie and Finnick were annoyed at Eleanor, they both understood why she made her choice.

So, instead she traded her knives and spears for needles and a pair of surgical gloves, content with a life of service to her community. Every year she watched as innocent children were saved in reapings, and while she couldn't save them from the games, she could save them from the grief and guilt.

Eleanor Eves, District 4's local sweetheart, was nothing short than a gentle being with a softness for children, flowers, and her best friends, Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. If she wasn't working in St Magdalene Rossetti, she was always seen with them, mostly her and Annie tackling Finnick whenever they had a chance.

There wasn't a single bone in her body that allowed Eleanor the ability to take a life.

Breathing in heavily, Eleanor rubbed her eyes as she opened the door for Mr Ives, an older man with greying hair but warm eyes. Everyone knew of his unlucky streak down at the docks, always managing to cut his hands with the knives he weaved through the scales of fish caught at sea. 

Mr Ives, a man who seemed to have a streak for always cutting his hand whenever he cut the fish, seemed overtly fond of the brunette for her sweetness. Men from The Quay had brought him in just fifteen minutes before and he had adamantly insisted only Eleanor stitch up his cut. He had known her since she began working properly and trusted her to work on his wounds after she had expertly patched him up after a nasty cut on his hand, something her mother's unsteady hands struggled to do. At the time, the thirteen year old was figuring out the busy environment of a doctor's office, and watched as her mother struggled to steady her hand over Mr Ives' bleeding wound. Eleanor had logically gone and took the instruments off her mother, patching him up quickly and without many words. Ever since then, it was always Eleanor who helped him.

"You know Sweetheart, you have a real talent," Mr Ives had remarked, wincing as Eleanor injected the Morphling into his arm. She unwrapped the cloth that had been tied over the cut, immediately wiping away any of the excess blood. She grabbed onto the thread, tying it to the needle, before exhaling as she began sewing up the cut.

Eleanor gave him a small smile. "Believe me I wouldn't be this good if you didn't get injured this much, Mr Ives." She laughed apologising as she saw him wince slightly from the sight of the needle. "How's Martha and the baby?"

He gave a laugh. "The little lady's getting proper done with the kid, I'll tell you that." Mr Ives was a sweet man, Eleanor always thought so. He had always given her family extra fish whenever he could spare some. He was eternally grateful for her mother helping his wife get through a nasty case of the flu two winters prior and by association, was in debt to Eleanor. "She keeps demanding I wash in the garden since she pukes whenever I'm near her after my shifts."

Eleanor shook her head. "She is seven months along now and fish does smell bad when it's on you." Eleanor ignored the playful glare Mr Ives gave her. She decided on changing the topic. "Do you guys have any name ideas?"

"None Sweetheart." He shook his head with a laugh. "Wanted to call her Eleri and Martha nearly throttled me. She said that name made her feel sick as a fish." She laughed as he rolled his eyes, mimicking Martha's thick District 4 accent with a shake of his head. Martha Ives had come from The Cove, a region seemingly alienated from the rest of District 4. Their accents stood out like sore thumbs and Martha's was thick and rich, something Mr Ives adored. 

Eleanor grinned, finally finishing off the stitches. She finally cut away at the thread, patting down on the stitches before pulling out a bandage. She wrapped it carefully around the hand, finally nodding up at him as she finished.  "There, you better go home now." She told the man with an authoritative tone. There was a hint of playfulness in her voice as she instructed him.  "No fishing for at least a week. Keep the stitches dry and come back in about a week. Mary'll remove them then." She pulled Mr Ives into a hug, laughing as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Sweetheart you are an absolute gem!" He laughed. He reached into his pocket, trying to pull out any spare change he had, only for Eleanor to shake her head at him. "Oh come off it, it's the least I can do."

She shook her head adamantly. "Policy is policy, Mr Ives. We don't care about money here, we aren't struggling for it at all. Now go, I don't want to see you until Martha has the baby."

He kissed her on the cheek once more, getting up and leaving the room. Eleanor sighed heavily, grabbing the cup of water which sat on the desk and taking a sip. She yawned, rubbing her eyes slightly. Then, she finally heard his voice and sobered up, blinking quickly to wash away any feelings of exhaustion.

Finnick Odair despised the days where Eleanor worked longer than necessary. Sometimes, his hatred took the literal form of him storming into St Magdalene Rossetti, just like today.  As much as he tried convincing her otherwise, often using the excuse that he misses her way too much, Eleanor always found herself spending most her days cooped up with foolish men who injured themselves down on the docks. It wasn't a bad job per say, just tedious with how frequently the same men came back constantly. 

As Finnick walked in, Eleanor exhaled heavily.

There were several ways in which Finnick Odair could be here:

A. He's injured.

B. He helped someone get here injured.

or

C. He simply wanted to annoy her.

Most the time, well at least nowadays, C was always the most logical and most likely explanation. "I swear to god, Finnick, you better not be injured again!" Eleanor raged as she walked around the room, pulling out bandaids and gauzes. She could already hear his choked laughs, rolling her eyes as she finally got off the ground. Finnick was stood in the centre of the room, holding a bouquet of tulips, scratching his head with a bashful smile. Her eyes softened, a blush already brewing on her cheeks. "Flowers?"

"Tulips," He grinned as she finally stood next to him, Finnick moving to smell the tulips and sighing breathlessly. He watched with fond eyes as she grinned at the bouquet, clearly not expecting the gesture. "My favourite which should be your favourite."

Eleanor grinned, a small blush already coating her cheeks. She couldn't help the way her heart fluttered as she took the tulips, holding them up to her nose and smelling them with a sigh. She wondered if flowers meant anything to Finnick, and if so, did they mean anything because he was giving them to her?

"Flirt with me when I'm not working, Odair." She rolled her eyes as he audibly groaned, quickly moving to grab a vase from the window. She gave the flowers one last smell, placing them in the empty vase and turning to see Finnick simply grinning at her. She gave an exhausted smile, hoping her cheeks weren't obviously red. She hoped she could just pass them off as a small sunburn if they were. "Seriously, why are you here?"

"Can't a guy miss his best girl?" He gave a lopsided grin, bouncing from one foot to the other.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Bother Annie, I'm sure she's not busy." She sighed, placing the bandaids down on the desk. She could feel Finnick's eyes on her, those stupid sea green eyes fixed on her figure as she finally took off her scrubs. "Don't tell me, you can't find her."

He nodded. "She's a good hider." Finnick scratched the back of his head with a bashful grin, watching Eleanor with a warm gaze.

"We always did beat you at hide and seek."

Finnick's eyebrows furrowed at Eleanor. "You mean, Annie, always beat me. You just followed her." He gave a laugh as Eleanor pushed him a way, scoffing in offence. Finally though, he held his hand out to her, looking at the clock momentarily before deciding for the both of them what they'd do next. "Come on, you're taking a break. Tell Ida and Margaret you're clocking out. You need a break."

Eleanor shook her head. "No, I've only got," she paused, looking at the clock before counting in her head. "four more hours." But it seemed as though Finnick wasn't having it, grabbing onto Eleanor and dragging her out, much to her protests. It seemed as though both Ida and Margaret were elated seeing the pair, waving Eleanor off with grins. "Finnick!"

Finnick grinned back at her, practically skipping alongside her. "You've been working all day! Have some fun!"

[websterss]

FINNICK ODAIR

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

PEETA MELLARK

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

YOUNG!HAYMITCH ABERNATHY (TOM)

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

YOUNG!HAYMITCH ABERNATHY (NOAH)

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

‣ BACK TO: MASTERLISTS

[allisluv]

Ooh what do you think THG characters ended up like after the rebellion? (Btw I wanna hear ALL the thoughts you have bc this topic is so interesting sorry if it's kinda weird)

i have so many thoughts so i apologise in advance.

katniss suffers for years after prims death and the only light in her life is knowing that she is healing with peeta right by her side. its hard for peeta to tell what's real and what's not, even years down the line, and katniss starts sticking up post it notes around the house so he knows that he's not in a dream. katniss goes hunting in her spare times while peeta opens up his very own bakery in what used to be the hob. when peeta and katniss officially start a relationship and realise that they're wanting to spend the rest of their life together, he ropes johanna into helping him build a house in the meadow.

johanna moves to district four to help annie with the baby--- whether or not their relationship is platonic or romantic is up for debate. annie helps johanna get over her fear of water and johanna helps annie with her episodes of disassociation. finnick jr is a lovable menace, just like his father. his mom and auntie jo make sure he knows finnick died a hero.

unpopular opinion, but i think haymitch stopped drinking. there was no need to drown his sorrows for any longer -- he had to face the fact that president snow killed his family and although it was a tough pill to swallow, it was a necessary thing to come to terms with.

effie moves to district twelve to be closer to her found family and she slowly comes to the realisation that she likes being around haymitch. the two of them skirt around their feelings but eventually she kisses him and the rest is history. they adopt a family of geese and haymitch names them after his children (katniss, finnick, peeta etc...)

beetee moves back to district three to start a technological firm but stays in touch with the others. gale is consumed with guilt from what happened to primrose, so he moves there, too, and helps beetee as a distraction from what really happened. he never speaks to katniss or peeta again.

[liseytopia]

FINNICK HEADCANONS .ᐟ

finnick odair x fem!reader

𓇼 finnick odair who snorts with tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes when he laughs too hard. when you two share jokes and bring up funny moments you had together.

𖦹 finnick odair who loves flustering you with pickup lines and snarky comments, but covers his face with the palms of his hands when you get him back. behind those hands is a pretty, dimpled smile and blushed cheeks that scream 'i love you.'

𓇼 finnick odair who finds comfort in holding your hand. tracing little shapes on your knuckles with his calloused yet soft fingertips.

𖦹 finnick odair who bought you a surfboard that matches with his for your birthday. he customized it to fit you, with little drawings of pearls and sea stars that remind him of you along it. when not in use, it's on full display in your shared bedroom as your prized possession.

𓇼 finnick odair who loves play fighting with you. who lets you jump on him, giggling, and every now and then knock him down. who lets you straddle over him and playfully punch his shoulder. it makes him happy to see you having fun, not to mention he has fun too, laughing and manhandling you off of him.

𖦹 finnick odair who always wants you there with him when he's taking a bath or shower. he finds comfort in water itself, so it's only fitting that he gets to have his pretty girl with him. he always finds a way to make it fun when you two bathe, sitting on opposite ends of the tub and shaping little creatures out of the bubbles.

𓇼 finnick odair who can't even pretend he doesn't like it when you wear his clothes. it makes his heart swoop when he sees you walking around in one of his tee-shirts, especially when in public.

𖦹 finnick odair who randomly picks you up to kiss your lips whenever he wants. you two could be in a meeting in thirteen and he'll wrap your legs around his waist to get as much of your lips as he wants. it causes glares from haymitch and coin, but does he really care if you're right there with him?

𓇼 finnick odair who will always be there to be a shoulder to cry on. more than that, even. he'll comfort you until the end of time. finnick will always and forever be there to support you, help you after your nightmares, to kiss your forehead with passion and wrap has arms around your shaking body, acting as a shield from whatever horrors were brought by the capitol.

© liseytopia 2024 : do not copy, translate, or steal my work.

[asterias-record-shop]

𓆩[in our next life || III]𓆪

𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[next part]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and other foul language || no smut this chapter || mentions of wanting children || Finnick gets a little frustrated, but it doesn't last very long || you and Katniss have a talk || mentions of forced prostitution || baby names inspired by water || pregnancy test || eating shared candies if that makes sense || you and Finnick cry together, this chapter is really more fluffy and you and Finnick are just loving each other || (All of the warnings I can think of, lemme know if you think i should add anything else! warnings for full fic in the masterlist)

When the interview with Caesar was over, you collapsed into Finnick’s arms, sobbing. You didn’t care who saw, it didn’t matter who saw. As much as you needed Finnick in one area of your relationship, you needed him even more emotionally.

“You did good, darling, so good,” he whispered into your hair, fixing himself to sit down on the floor as your fluffy dress pooled around your sitting form. “Look at me, darling, you did so good.”

You inhale, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. His thumb rubs your chin, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. “I love you, Y/N. Every part of you, forever and always.”

You exhaled, nodding. “I love you, Finnick. Every part of you, until the end of time.”

You hear footsteps as you lay against Finnick’s chest, his fingers drawing patterns against your bare upper back. You probably looked insane as you looked up, tears staining your perfect makeup, but when you saw Peeta and Katniss, you smiled. Your arms wrapped around Finnick’s shoulders as he pulled you closer, inhaling as Katniss paused.

“Smile, Katniss,” you say, exhaling. “It helps them believe you.”

You saw her fists relax as you nodded at her. She nods back, a slight smile developing on her lips before you giggled. “Wider, honey. If I can’t stop these games, maybe you can, Mockingjay.”

Her brow ruffled as Cinna ran over. “Y/N, darling, your makeup! Come on, we need to fix it.”

Finnick sighed. “Cinna-”

“Of course, Cinna,” you smiled as you stood, stepping off of Finnick. “Will you come with me?”

He nods as you grab onto the edge of his shirt, his other quickly taking both of your shaking hands into his own. You smiled at Peeta and Katniss, mouthing ‘smile’ at them as Cinna took you down to the salon to fix your makeup. “I like the blue, Cinna, put more of it please.”

He smiled, nodding as he does as you say. Finnick’s lips stay pressed to your skin, anywhere from your shoulder to the back of your hand. He watched the interviews of Peeta and Katniss, gasping when Peeta pulled the same trick he did. “Guess everyone has baby fever, don’t they?”

You hum. “I hope so. Maybe the more babies we make, the more they’ll want to shut down the games.”

“I wish that was how it worked, Y/N,” Cinna whispers, smiling sadly. “What names were you thinking?”

You purse your lips, pausing. “Finnick, of course,” you say, making him laugh as Finnick squeezed your hand before sighing. “I’ve always loved the name Nautilus. Or Atlantis.”

Finnick smiled. “I like those.”

You laughed before Cinna turned you back into the mirror. “You like?”

You smiled, nodding when you saw how beautiful the makeup looked. “I love Cinna.”

He grins. “Perfect. Now go, you’re going to be late!”

You quickly get out of the chair as Finnick grabs your hand, quickly leading you down to the stage so you both can raise your hands together. You grab the person’s hand next to you, grinning as you raise your arms before Caesar announces, “And we will see them at the wedding of Panem’s Prince and Princess, Finnick and Y/N!”

Your mind was hazy as you went back to the room, leaning on Finnick for support with his hand in yours as you both stood in the elevator. It was quiet on the way up, his hand softly stroking your hair as you squeezed the other. “Fin?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can you go get me a pregnancy test?”

He pauses as the doors open, walking in with you. “Why?”

“You made me think,” you whispered, sitting on the couch. “I just want to take one.”

Finnick scoffed. “Why if you think we’re going to die?”

You pause, looking at his form; his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps bulge, jaw clenched and eyes glaring down at the floor. “Fin, come on,” you say, sitting next to him to pull him down to the couch. “It was for effect, Finnick.”

“No, no it wasn’t,” he says, looking over at you, gaze softening. “You don’t think I will protect you? I promise you, I swear to you, I will get you out of that arena alive.”

You smiled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will, Fin,” you whisper, sighing. You let your fingers curl into his golden hair, softly brushing your nose to his. “I will do the same for you, and you know it.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” he says immediately. “It’s been my job to protect you since you were born. I’ve always, always protected you. Remember when we were little and that fucking asshole kept untying your nets and I fucking pummeled his ass? And then-”

“I couldn’t protect you when you were Reaped, Fin,” you say, remembering when his name was drawn and you fought against Peacekeepers to get to him. You ran onto the stage, ignoring the scolding of your mother and jumped into his arms, sobbing until you were dragged away from him.

“Finnick! Finnick, don’t go!” You wailed. He had just turned fourteen, you still eleven and unable to understand the point of the Reapings and what you were feeling.

“Y/N, go, please,” he whispers into your ear, his hands still at his sides. “Go before someone kills you.”

“No! No, I'm not leaving you! Finnick, please, please don’t go. Don’t leave me, you promised,” you sobbed into his shoulder, arms around his torso. “You promised.”

His hands twitch as they slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’ll come back. I promise you.”

And he did. He did come back, but two years later, you went too when you were fifteen. And then, you came back.

Even then, nothing was the same as when you came back. After being sold by Snow, you and Finnick’s relationship was broken. You both blamed the suffering and traumas of the other on yourselves, and because of that, you stayed apart for about a month. It was even more torture than the literal torture of Snow, and when you both saw each other again, you never let the other go since then.

“Let me protect you now.”

He inhaled shakily as you pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. “We’ll protect each other, Y/N,” he says, kissing you again. “I swear on it.”

You smiled as he paused. “I’ll get you that test.”

You nodded, thankful as he opens the door, and when you don’t hear it close, you look over the couch. When you see Katniss standing there, Finnick’s arms crossed as he raised a brow. “Can I help you?”

“I want to speak with Y/N,” she says before Cinna comes into view.

“Finnick, darling, the rings are done.”

You jump over the couch, still in your long flowy dress. “Cinna! Let me see!”

“Ah!” Finnick says immediately, pushing you away. “No, you can’t see until tomorrow.”

You pouted, whining. “Fin, come on!”

He laughs, pushing you back slightly. “Go. Katniss, come in, Cinna, walk with me.”

You pout as he walks over, kissing your lips. “Get changed, darling. I’m sure it’s hard for you to walk around in that.”

You giggled, brushing your lips against his again. “I love you.”

He stroked your head. “I love you more.”

Finnick walks out, leaving the door open for Katniss to walk in. You hummed as she slowly closed the door. “Where’s Peeta?”

“Speaking with Effie and Haymitch.”

“Oh? So you’re here alone?” You giggled as you walked toward your room, looking back. “Can you untie my dress for me?”

Your words make her inhale, but she steps forward to let her nimble fingers tug at the satin string that tied up your dress. Easily, she gets it undone, and you let it fall from your form and step out of the dress and corset. She gasped as you walked toward the closet, basically completely nude besides your lacy panties that did little to nothing to cover you up. You pull on one of Finnick’s oversized shirts, opting to not wear bottoms as you come out and sit on your bed.

“Well? What can I do for you, Katniss?”

“What is up with you and Finnick?”

You raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the Prince and Princess!” She yelled, covering her mouth soon after. “You both just… you, especially, you’re like… like-”

“Undeniably attractive?” You say, outstretching your leg with a giggle before leaning back on your hands. “Sexy? The epitome of lust?”

Her face falls. “I’m leaving.”

You laughed. “I’m playing! What’s your question again, Kat? Kitty Kat? Can I call you that or-”

“Why are you so self absorbed? Princess like?”

You giggle. “I was in the public’s eye since Finnick’s games. I was his girlfriend, Katniss, and when I was reaped two years later, we suffered the same fate over again,” your smile disappears. “Finnick and I’s lives are not everything you see on TV, Katniss. Even if you didn’t watch our show.”

She grimaced. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re lucky you survived with Peeta, Katniss. Lucky that Snow wants you dead.”

She glared. “How is that lucky?”

You don’t look away from her, slowly hiking up your shirt. “Because it’s better than him wanting you alive,” you said, showing her a mark on your upper thigh that Cinna always covered with makeup. “Do you know what this is, Katniss?”

She pauses, but shakes her head.

“This is the mark of the people sold by Snow,” you say, pressing on it. It disappears for a few seconds, but comes back. “Only some know what it is. It’s impossible to take off, I have scars to prove it,” you say, pressing on it again to see the faded scar before it comes back. “Your games weren’t even a year ago. If Snow loved you like he did me and Finnick instead of wanting you dead,” you stand, walking in front of her to force her back against the wall. “Then you would’ve gone through the same things as us and come out just as twisted. Maybe worse.”

She inhaled, choosing to stay quiet as your fingers slowly stroked her hair. “You’re beautiful, Katniss,” you say. “And I’m glad you didn’t suffer like us. We do what we have to to survive, Katniss, and if being a whore in both the light of a camera reluctantly and behind closed doors willingly, then so be it.”

You hear the door open, stepping back. “I’m sorry- I am.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Everdeen,” you say, sitting back on the bed as Finnick walks in. “I need you to do two things for me,” you raise a finger. “One, I need you to be my maid of honor. The girls who get pregnant together, stay together. It’s good for popularity.” You raise your second finger. “Two, I need you to end these fucking games. For all of our sakes.”

Finnick pops a candy into his mouth, tapping your chin making you look up at him. He holds your chin, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting the candy slide into your mouth. You smiled, cherry flavor popping into your senses before you pulled away. “My favorite.”

He smiles. “Good thing I have more then,” he says. “Can I have another kiss?”

You giggle, nodding as you pull him on top of you.

“I’m leaving,” Katniss says immediately, turning around before you hum against Finnick’s lips.

“Oh! Wait!” You say as Finnick quickly got off, moving the bag he got before collapsing onto the bed. You go to your dresser, pulling out the box that Cinna had given you after the interview with a gift for the person you chose to be your maid of honor. As much as you wanted it to be Mags, you didn’t want to bring her out to the Capitol to watch you go back into an arena you only wanted to escape.

You took it out, ignoring the two boxes that held your matching gold bracelets before closing the drawer. Turning, you hand her the box. “For you and Peeta. Matching. I want you to be my maid of honor and Peeta to be Finnick’s best man. It works out that way.”

She slowly takes it, gasping when she opens it. She slowly takes out the necklace, cascading pearls wrapped in gold rope chains to cover her entire chest like a throwing net. She grabs the other, a thick rope chain with pearls studding each intertwined link for Peeta. “This looks-”

“Expensive? It is. Do you know how hard it is to get pure gold these days? Everyone wants those new carbon things but no, I want the classics,” you smiled as you went to the bed, quickly crawling over Finnick’s legs to sit on his lap. You push the candy around your mouth, covering it in your spit before leaning down, watching his mouth lull open obediently and let the cherry flavored candy fall into his mouth. You giggled, lulling out your tongue to lick at his own before looking over at Katniss. “Get to the estate at around nine in the morning. Finnick and I will be there earlier, but you know it’s bad luck when a groom sees his bride. Cinna’s assistants will begin dressing you when you get there.”

Katniss nods. “Okay, I will uhm… we’ll be there, all of us.”

You smile. “Sounds good. Make sure Haymitch and Effie wear black! If I see one speck of color, she’s leaving.”

Katniss laughs slightly. “Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You look up, smiling at her. “See you tomorrow, Katniss.”

With that, she leaves as a loud crack makes you look down at Finnick who chews on the candy. He grinned, his tongue stained pink as you kissed his lips. You groaned as he pulled your hips into his own, rutting them softly into yours before his hands squeezed your sides. “You gonna take that test?”

You almost forgot about it, but you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” He whispers, hands stroking your side as you inhale shakily.

“Yes.”

He lifts you up, taking you to the restroom, slowly setting you down onto the ground. You go to the toilet, sighing as you slowly pull down your pants and opening up the test. Quickly, you do your business, clean yourself off and wash your hands before tapping on Finnick’s shoulder.

You whimper into his back, rubbing his arms. “Fin, I’m scared.”

He turns around, stroking your cheeks. “It’s okay to be scared, darling. Just remember I’m here and I’m here to help you, to protect you, to save you.”

You sobbed into his hands, gasping as the timer Finnick must have set and quickly grabbing the test. You inhaled shakily, the words Negative not registering in your mind.

“Y/N, honey?”

“I really wanted it to be true, Fin,” you whisper, your eyes burning almost as though there were no more tears left to cry. “I really wanted to be pregnant with your baby.”

A choked sob fell from Finnick’s mouth, his arms immediately pulling you into his chest as you both crumbled to the ground. You sobbed into his chest, his hands pulling you into his lap as you rubbed his shoulders and he rubbed your back. “We’re going to get out of there alive, my darling. I promise.”

This time, you believed him. Looking up, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N. Forever and always.”

“And when we meet in our next life.”

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪

in our next life taglist: 𓆩[@poppet05]𓆪   𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@jewelrybean25]𓆪   𓆩[@arzua10]𓆪   𓆩[@savagemickey03]𓆪   𓆩[@ok-boke]𓆪   𓆩[@instabull]𓆪   𓆩[@maxinehufflepuffprincess]𓆪   𓆩[@starryeddie]𓆪   𓆩[@ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations]𓆪   𓆩[@taestrwbrry]𓆪

next part will be uploaded this Wednesday! (and linked in masterlist and the link for next part) (05.17.23)

© asterias-record-shop

[maevesheart]

only angel

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER

note: takes place during the third quarter quell!

summary: through your alliance with katniss, you and finnick rekindle some buried feelings.

wc: 3.5k

tw: cursing, the different death traps within the arena

only angel (2)

Haymitch’s voice was sharp as he led Katniss and Peeta through the list of their new competition.

Your face lit up the screen, a smile as you took your place next to Brutus, your district-mate. Who you’d soon need to kill.

“Y/N L/N. District Two.”

“In the Capitol, they call her the angel,” Haymitch laughed, taking a swig from his flask after pointing to you.

“She looks harmless,” Peeta commented, noting your smaller-build as compared to other victors, especially Brutus.

“Trust me, she isn’t,” Haymitch shook his head, walking to the other side of the screen.

“The angel of death. One of the youngest Victors ever, winning the 68th games at 15. A Capitol favorite, but very different than the rest of the careers.”

Katniss and Peeta looked at each other in confusion. Considering you were from Two, you would’ve been a key member of a career pack.

Haymitch noted their expressions and continued, “she killed her career pack the first night. It was three versus one, very gruesome. But the Capitol loves her, and she’ll likely get lots of sponsors. The other careers will be hesitant to ally with her, including Brutus, who she publicly hates. Try not to make an enemy of her, she’s extremely well-trained in combat, especially with swords. Highest kill count the games had seen in years, around ten tributes.”

It was common that Career packs turned on each other as the games progressed, but to kill off the whole pack in one night was almost unheard of.

Katniss and Peeta remembered your games, they remembered watching as you slit your district-mate’s throat, and when you broke another’s neck while sitting on their shoulders. They remembered watching you in the final moments, taking out both tributes from Eleven with one sword, going through both their abdomens. You always put on a show for the Capitol citizen’s, killing the other contestants in the most gruesome ways possible.

And they knew that they definitely did not want to be on the receiving end of one of your death tricks.

“Why would we ally with her if she’s just going to kill us the first night, like she did her other games?” Katniss’ voice was hard and her lips were pressed in a straight line.

“Don’t we have that threat anyways? From all the other tributes as well?” Peeta asked Katniss, trying to get her more accustomed to the idea of an ally.

“The other Careers will steer clear of her, I recommend finding a way to get her on your side. The last thing you want is the Careers and the Angel hunting you.”

Katniss and Peeta both made a note to introduce themselves tomorrow during the parade, wanting to asses the angel of death themselves.

You scoffed looking down at your outfit, a thin, short bodycon dress that was golden, and a long flowing black and gold cape that reached the floor.

You had on knee-high boots, adding to the obvious sexual-appeal of your outfit. You would’ve killed your stylist on sight if it weren’t for the many other tributes and people around.

And of course, she had strapped you into a set of golden wings, always playing into the sardonic nickname you had been given all those years ago.

The sponsors loved it however, and you knew exactly how to play into the palms of their hands.

Brutus was in a matching get-up — without the wings, of course—, flexing his arms, waiting for a response from you. You hated him, and made it very well known.

You turned away, refusing to give a reaction. God, you detested your district. The only thing good that ever came out of the games for you was the money, which helped you and your family greatly, but you found your fellow Victor incompetent and selfish.

Your somewhat blissful bubble of isolation was broken when Finnick approached you, the two tributes from Twelve trailing him.

You rolled your eyes, rather dramatically, and stepped down from the Chariot, not missing the obvious ways the two men’s eyes raked up and down your very exposed body.

“I’ll make note of those stares when I decide to kill you,” you smile, earring a chuckle from Katniss. At least someone found it funny; you didn’t.

“And this is Y/N, my lovely friend,” Finnick announced, snaking an arm around you.

You and Finnick had a short-lived relationship a few years back, after you had won your games. He had won his very young, just like you had, and the two of you bonded over the shared trauma.

Snow had destined you to the same unwilling fate as Finnick, selling your body and pride to anyone interested in the Capitol.

Your brief love story ended after a rather bitter fight, you and Finnick throwing around baseless accusations.

You hadn’t talked to Finnick in over three years, other than the surface-level and small-talk conversations you shared at various parties and Victor events.

“Hardly a friend, but you know,” you smiled, pushing Finnick’s arm off your body.

If he was hurt by your action, he didn’t respond, and ushered for Peeta and Katniss to introduce themselves.

Finally, Peeta broke the tension.

“I’m Peeta, and this is Katniss,”

You recognized them, but honestly didn’t care. You knew Katniss could be a strategic killer but Peeta really didn’t have any skills other than his strength, and you figured he’d be an easy target.

“If we were under different circumstances, I’d say it’s nice to meet you. But I don’t think I should say that to someone I’ll be killing in a few days,” you laughed, the sickly-sweet one that you faked for the Capitol citizens. They loved you, more than they loved the star-crossed lovers. And you were not about to let two teenagers forget their place. 

Katniss’s face was hard, but Peeta broke an awkward laugh, eyes averting your gaze. Finnick was still smiling, trying hard to keep himself from laughing at your depreciating jokes.

You suddenly pointed to Katniss, a fire burning beneath your eyes.

“You’re the one who killed my Cato,” your voice was hard, almost… emotional?

Peeta’s eyes widening, remembering the boy from Two who almost killed them both. The boy you likely poured hours of training and dedication into.

“It was him or Peeta,” Katniss speaks, refusing to break your intense eye-contact.

You cock your head to the side, silently challenging her.

Cato was a strong warrior, fierce and powerful. You had high hopes he would win, unrelenting confidence in him. You mentored him the way Enobaria had mentored you… made him into a friend.

Looking back, you knew you had become too attached to the boy, but he was your shot of proving to everyone that you still had it in you. To not discount you.

Only other mentors would know the pain of becoming close with a tribute and then watching them die.

You didn’t respond to her, instead pursed your lips and held back a scoff, knowing he would’ve won if it weren’t for the Capitol’s adoration of the lovers from Twelve.

“I apologize for her crudeness. The games bring out her nasty side,” Finnick smiles, hiding a wince when you lodge your elbow into his ribs.

“Tiny but mighty!” He squeaks out, hand rubbing over where you just jammed him.

With one final rake over your unsuspecting body, Katniss grabbed Peeta and ushered him away. Much to your dismay, Finnick stayed next to you.

“I’m making us allies, Y/N. At least act a little civilized!” Finnick’s voice was low but stern, earning a scoff from you as a response.

“You think I’m going to fight alongside you?” You wonder aloud, narrowed eyes barring into his.

He looks slightly taken aback, eyes widening before he composes himself once again.

“Fine. I’ll see you later,” he brushes you off, walking away to his own Chariot.

You had your own friends in this game. Johanna, and… well that was really all. And you knew Johanna would want to work alongside Finnick as well.

You determined it wouldn’t be the end of the world, it would give you the ability to ensure that he wouldn’t be killed.

But that meant that you’d have to kill him in the end, right? There was only one winner, and you didn’t want to have to turn on your friends like you did the other Careers in your games.

The next day, during training, Katniss approached you alone.

She watched from behind as you practiced with Johanna, a sword in each hand blocking her repeated swings with her axe.

“No lover boy?” You asked, turning around and the swords lowering to your sides.

Johanna smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. She was one of the few who you didn’t dish out attitude to.

“Wanted to get to know you myself, Angel of death,” Katniss spoke, voice steady and unwavering.

You lightly tilted your head to the side, smirking at her use of your infamous nickname.

“Well here I am! An Angel in the flesh. What can I do for you, girl on fire?”

“If you teach me some of your combat tricks, I can teach you how to use a bow?”

You quirked a brow at her offer, Johanna stifling a laugh behind you.

“I know how to shoot a bow and arrow,” you replied. Katniss’s face didn’t falter, but she stayed silent for a moment before responding.

“Not like I do.”

You finally gave in, letting her instruct you how to properly pull the string back and which eye was most ideal for accuracy.

You worked with Katniss and found her company rather enjoyable. According to Enobaria, Katniss reminded her of you. Stubborn and combatant.

She was funny, usually without meaning to be, and as much as you hated to admit, your craftsmanship with the bow did increase. Even after just a few practices with her.

In the second day of training, you were teaching her how to effectively wield a knife, and where the best places to aim for were.

A few other tributes had gathered around to watch before you scared them off, mock-lunging at them from your spot on the mat.

“Making friends, are we?” Finnick’s voice cut through the sounds of Katniss’s grunts as you pinned her to the ground, snatching the blade from her hand.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, sticking out your hand for Katniss to take.

“Better than you, yes,” you smiled, hauling Katniss’s body up off the ground.

Katniss thanked you for the help and then excused herself, slinking back over to where Peeta stood with Mags.

“Finally taking my advice, it seems,” Finnick triumphantly smiled, watching you scowl.

“She wouldn’t make a bad accomplice,” you answer back, though slightly abashed.

“Mhm. Looks like we’re gonna be on the same team,” he picks his trident off the wall of weapons and you gesture for the mat you had just stepped off.

“Wanna go a round?”

You watched with annoyance as Cashmere and Gloss stood with Ceaser, fake crocodile tears down both their faces.

You agreed with all they were saying, but you couldn’t stand the faux-ness of everyone around you. You knew in a few moments it would be your turn, and you’d have to get up on that stage and act like the sweet little girl they all remembered you as. But you had changed, and all because of their stupid games.

“Everyone, please welcome our favorite angel, Y/N L/N of District Two!”

You plastered a grin on your face as you waltzed out, a large sun-inspired headpiece catching the attention of the audience.

Your halo, as they all would say.

You waved, laughing at every joke Ceasar cracked.

“We are so glad to have our Capitol’s Angel back, aren’t we everyone?!” Ceasar’s stark-white smile was bright and you mimicked it, blushing as the crowd cheered your name.

“Now, Y/N, it’s been seven years since you won your games. How do you think this time it will be different?”

You knew it was coming, the questions about your game. You hated speaking about it, but it was all a part of winning.

“Different? Oh, Ceasar, we both know this won’t be the last time you’re gonna see me!” You giggled, the crowd roaring with excitement over your confidence.

His laugh boomed through the auditorium and you smiled, having him eat right out of your palm.

He complimented your hair piece, noting that it was the perfect halo for the perfect Angel. You smiled, feigned innocence. Anything to get you sponsors.

“Our sweet Y/N, I don’t know how we’re going to let you go!”

“Well, you don’t have to!” You smiled again, the audience awe-ing.

“You all have been so gracious to me, so wonderful. I couldn’t have possibly been given a better life if it weren’t for you all,” you gestured out to the audience.

“You flatter us,”

“No, no. Just know that I’m not going by choice. And I would chose to stay with you all if I had the option.”

You shed a stray forced tear from your face, slightly smudging the makeup your prep-team had spent hours doing.

The audience loved it, continuing to play into your sweet facade.

How ironic. A sweet innocent angel who turns into a brutal murderer.

They roared as you stood up and gave them a small bow, before joining Brutus and the siblings up in the stands. The three of them offered you glares, knowing you had out-done them in sponsorships.

You watched impatiently as the other districts rolled in, holding in a gag when Finnick professed his love to a girl back in the districts.

The idea of him having a girl waiting back in Four caused your stomach to begin to hurt. How did he find someone else when your nights were spent alone in a cold bed?

You were jealous, though you wouldn’t admit it out loud. You were too stubborn for your own good.

You knew it wasn’t true though, just a ruse for possible sponsors and sympathy. You had done the same.

Finally, after Peeta had stepped down from the stage, you were all allowed to retreat back to your floors.

You laid in bed that night, every possible scenario wracking your mind. These weren’t gonna be like your games. There was no way.

These competitors, they were ruthless and driven, just like you. They had won once, just like you.

How the hell were you going to win this?

The first thing you noticed as you were brought to the surface was how hot it was. Blazing sun beating down onto your covered skin.

You didn’t let yourself focus on for long, and you looked to each side, Johanna on your left and the male tribute from Six on your right.

Johanna nodded to you, and you returned the gesture. She had snuck to your room last night and told you the plan. Haymitch had pitched it to her before the interviews, and your only job was to keep Katniss safe until Plutarch and Coin could retrieve all of you.

You took in your surroundings, lots of water — you were an excellent swimmer, you’d be fine —, a large cornucopia in the middle (easy enough if you’re fast), and dense forests with sand. The sand left a bad taste in your mouth, reminding you of your games, which had been in a desert.

You never wanted to see sand again in your life.

But you’d push through it, the idea of being rescued by Thirteen and finally getting to live in peace resonated in your mind, you knew who the real enemy was.

The sound of the familiar gong sounded out, and you dove into the water, moving your limbs as fast as you could.

You were small, but damn, you were fast.

You reached the Cornucopia in record time, lunging for your two swords, and then throwing a belt of knives around your body.

You turned, knife quickly entering the abdomen of the girl of Eight.

Gloss grinned at you from behind the girl, and you scowled back, running back down the middle to get to the sand.

You found Wiress in the middle of the rocks, and tugged her with you, finding Johanna and Beetee a little ways away.

“Let’s get as far as we can,” Johanna announced, axe glistening in her hand.

The four of you walked for what felt like hours, Beetee and Wiress whispering about something relating to technology that you didn’t care about.

Finally, once nightfall neared, you set up camp. Wiress and Beetee offered to stay up, and you and Johanna had no problem allowing that, drifting off to sleep against a tree.

The next day came quickly, the four of you trying to gain more ground and hopefully find Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta.

You had watched Mags’s name flash across the sky last night and felt your heart-strings tug, wishing you could console Finnick.

The landscape was vast and there was lots of vegetation, your sword becoming very useful to get through the thick plants.

You and Johanna walked behind the two tech-savvy’s, silence as the two of you tried your hardest not to trip.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” you groaned, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

Johanna hummed, but before she could respond, the sound of rain echoed around your bodies.

You cried in happiness, opening your mouth to take in the water.

As soon as the first drop hit your tongue you knew, eyes widening in realization.

“It’s blood! Run!” You screamed, tugging Beetee as you barreled to the ground, running through a thick fog of blood.

Who’s — you didn’t want to know.

You stumbled around in the dark, blood coating your entire body. You were choking on it, coughing and sputtering, not caring anymore if Beetee and Wiress were following.

Your foot caught on a root, and you went tumbling down, one sword being thrown to a side, out of your view.

The belt of knives sat snug around your waist, your other sword still in your palm.

You shrieked as you fell, Johanna’s voice distant as she called your name.

You hit a tree, back bracing most of the impact. You groaned, slightly pushing yourself up off the ground.

A hand gripped your bicep, tugging you off the ground. You weren’t entirely sure who it was, but they shoved your other sword back into your hand, and gave you a push forwards, encouraging you to keep moving forwards.

You obliged, using one sword as a brim to keep the blood rain from your eyes.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You now could hear Johanna more clearly, her hands grabbing you and pulling you into the sand, Beetee trailing out after you.

Johanna repeatedly slapped your back, helping you cough out all the blood. You were gagging on the air, a hand on Johanna’s shoulder to steady yourself.

She pulled you towards the beach, helping you sit down in the water.

“Tick tock, tick tock,” Wiress mumbled behind you two, wandering around on the sand.

“Nuts,” Johanna shook her head, cleaning off her face as you did the same.

You winced as you moved down to clean your legs, a large gash across your thigh.

“Ouch,” Johanna commented, noting the blood pouring out the wound.

“Guess I sliced it when I fell,” you bit your lip as you tried to clean the wound, using the sleeve of your top.

“Y/N! Johanna!”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Finnick’s voice, a relieved smile spreading across your face.

You ignored the pain searing through your leg as you rushed to him, hands wrapping around his torso.

He stumbled back in shock, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, asking what was wrong.

“Oh, Finn, I’m sorry about Mags,”

You pulled back to look at his face, eyes softening over the clear sleep-deprivation.

As you went to take a step backwards, you winced, Finnick’s hands on your biceps to keep you from toppling backwards.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes scouring your whole body.

You would’ve answered if you had the strength, but you fell forwards, straight into his chest, losing conscious.

Johanna helped Finnick prop you against the tree, and Katniss went to retrieve water while Peeta tried to fish for something to eat.

Finnick tried his hardest to clean the wound while you slept, prying all the information out of Johanna that she could.

You awoke to Katniss pouring water over your leg, grunting as you sat up, eyes screwing shut in pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, Katniss nodding before walking away to Peeta.

“You had me so worried,” Finnick shook his head, eyes not leaving your face.

“Just a cut, Finn. I’m alright,” you assure him, eyes soft as they meet his own.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” you add on, turning slightly so you’re facing him.

He shakes his head but you continue, “for all those awful things I said to you…. It wasn’t right.”

You knew this was being broadcasted for all the Districts to see, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he knew how much you regretted your harsh words.

His hand comes up to cup your face, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry too, I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“We both did,” you lightly laugh, pulling a small smile from Finnick.

“I missed you,” he whispers, “you really scared me earlier. Thought I had lost you,”

You shook your head, leaning into his hand that still cupped your face.

“Could never lose me. Not now,”

You flutter your eyes closed as his lips meet yours. Your hands tangle around his neck and into his hair, both his hands on your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

All the unhatched feelings and emotions, the words the two of you wished to declare to each other, were poured into this kiss.

It was slow, passionate. Picking right up where you left off those years ago.

“Alright, love birds! Time to hunt!” Johanna exclaims, the two of you pulling a part. A light blush dots your cheeks and Finnick is wearing one of his stupid shit-eating grins.

Finnick stands quickly, helping you up. The pain is mostly gone, just a light sting as you all make your way back to the Cornucopia.

And you know then, that you’d die for him. Over and over. You’d lose these games, lose the war. Just to ensure that he’d live.

**

[writersblockiskillingme]

Jabberjays | Johanna Mason

Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District4!Finnick's sister!reader)

Summary: During the attack of the Jabberjays Katniss is introduced to a whole different Johanna.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, the quarter quell, jabberjays, panic, screaming, weapons, you know typical hunger games stuff, also this is more like a short blurb but yeah, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I always wanted to write something about the Jabberjay attack so I absolutely loved the request! Also I made the reader Finnick's sister, I hope that's okay. Hope you enjoy!!

Request -> hi! i have a request for johanna!! could u do one where fem!reader and her are in a relationship that’s not secret just private (like only finnick knows) but something happens in the arena where johanna gets worried about r & finnick and katniss have a talk like johanna and katniss did in the movie abt annie? sry if that was too long or didn’t make sense! ty <33

Johanna just went into the thick forest to get some water with the spile that Haymitch send them so that they don't die of dehydration. She was regretting it now.

Katniss, Peeta, Beetee, your brother Finnick and you were on the beach. You were sitting with Katniss on the dry sand as you anxiously waited for Johanna to return from the forest as you stated at the hole in the sand that Johanna's ax made.

Thankfully, you thought to yourself, she took it with her.

Everything was relatively peaceful, too peaceful even. You didn't like it one bit. Something was coming. The game makers wouldn't allow the things to be so peaceful for so long. You were soon proven right as you heard the ear piercing scream that only seemed to shake through you.

"Johanna!" Your voice screamed back, every bit of common sense leaving you as you bolted towards the sound of Johanna's bloody-like screams.

You left your knives on the beach, along with the rest of your team that were screaming your name, confused from your actions as they tried to keep up with you. You were in a vulnerable place as you waved your hands around, trying to keep the thick leaves, that were swang down blocking your vision, away from your face as you ran still screaming Johanna's name as much as she screamed yours.

"Johanna!" You shouted as you reached the center of the forest where Johanna's screams were.

You were moving around in the circle, trying to determine where exactly her voice was coming from. After a while it hit you as you realized that her screams were coming from above. High in the trees. Then you saw the jabberjays flopping their little wings in the air, swaying the leaves of the trees and you knew that you fell right in the Capitol's trap.

"Y/N!" Finnick's muffled voice came towards you and you quickly turned towards him. Katniss, Beetee and Peeta were there with him, looking extremely concerned.

But why were they not coming closer?

The painful sounds of Johanna's screaming was messing with your head, panick gripping onto each and every fragment of your mind and body.

Why were they not coming over? Why aren't they helping? Why are they just standing there?!

Your felt your arms moving up, your hands gripping your head to try and kill the ever racing thoughts and the continuous mocking of the jabberjays. Then, as your eyes frantically searched the area, you spotted Johanna. Her eyes full of concern only reserved for her close friends and her love.

Then, the next thing that happened just confused you even more. Finnick grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her as she moved forward towards you, ax in her hand. She twisted her arm, releasing her arm from Finnick's grip as she yelled at him while he talked to her about something that you didn't hear. Her expression changed from concerned to utterly horrified.

"Y/N!" You heard Johanna's muffled, concerned voice mixing with the imitation of the screaming that the jabberjays provided.

You didn't think, the constant screaming was too much. You ran towards her, but came to a stop when your body hit something invisible. The force field. You started banging your hands against the force field trying to ignore the looks of pity and concern from your lover, brother and allies. You didn't want to except this.

The screaming intensified as the birds got closer to you, and you found yourself sliding onto the ground, screaming bloody murder just so you could tone down the sound of Johanna's and Finnick's torturous screams. Johanna was taping on the force field shouting at you something that you didn't understand.

That's how Johanna found herself banging her ax forcefully against the force field, trying to break it. Finnick next to her, hitting the force field with his trident, his eyes full of concern as he watched his baby sister's torture.

The new hour began and Katniss watched the scene in front of her not believing the state that Johanna was in. The hurried movements with her ax, the horrified expression on her face, her eyes full of concern. She cared about someone here. She actually, genuinely, cared about someone here.

°

"Y/N!" Johanna's voice reached your ears, tearing through the ringing in them as you swayed back and forth on the ground. "The hour is up! You okay! It's over! I'm here!"

After you finally came to your senses enough to look at her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her as tightly as you possibly could, not letting go.

"Johanna," You gasped through neverending sobs as your body shook against hers. "You're all right."

"We're both alright." She answered you with the softest voice Katniss ever heard.

Later on you all gathered at the beach once again. Peeta and Beetee went of a bit further away on the beach, looking for some food. Johanna and you settled down on the edge of the beach away from the rest of the team, but still in their eyesight, and finally Katniss and Finnick sat down, learning against the trees.

"Are they together?" Katniss asked Finnick, breaking the silence. "Johanna and Y/N?"

"Yes." Finnick answered immediately, his sea-green eyes snapped to look at her gray ones. "They didn't really keep it a secret, it was private. Only Mags, Annie, Haymitch and I knew really. They wanted to keep it in the close circle of friends."

"I've never seen Johanna act like that before," Katniss quietly murmured as she processed this new information that Finnick told her. "It was quite terrifying."

"Yeah, well," Finnick couldn't help himself as he chuckled playfully at her confession. "Johanna loves her so much. It is terrifying, honestly." He, however, continued on a more serious note. "Y/N won her games a year before Johanna. She helped her when she was going through tough times after she went out of the arena. Johanna lost her family. Y/N is the only thing that she lives for, now. She said it herself when I gave her, correction," Finnick held his finger up in the air, noting that he expressed himself wrongly. "Tried, key word tried, to give her I'm-her-older-protective-brother-so-you-better-not-hurt-her speach."

"And how did that turn out?" Katniss couldn't help but to ask, given how Johanna was she knew that his answer was going to be good.

"Oh, she smacked me across the head." Finnick smiled and Katniss found herself laughing at his answer just like she expected to.

Finnick and Katniss gazed to the couple that was still knee deep in the water, arms wrapped around each other as you sat in between Johanna's legs, your back leaning against her front.

"I'm glad that they have each other," Katniss spoke her thoughts out loud. "Even though they are so different they just seem to fit so well with one another."

"Definitely."

"What the hell are you two gossiping about?" Johanna called out causing you to giggle softly as you spoke.

"Yeah! And why the hell didn't you invite us?!"

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944