#i'm a basic girl if it's the 50th games i don't want anyone other than haymitch narrating it
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everyone's theorising about who will narrate the new thg book but i honestly can't imagine it would be anyone other than haymitch, 1st person or 3rd person alike
#i'm a basic girl if it's the 50th games i don't want anyone other than haymitch narrating it#like it seems very obviously haymitch's story to me idk why it would be snow or plutarch looking at it#(or maybe as like a prologue thing we'd get a few pages of them and then 98% of the book is haymitch narrating)#i know people in fandom have the tendency to completely obliterate and blast takes they think are bad so if interacting with this post:#a reminder to be respectful#the hunger games#sunrise on the reaping#suzanne collins#thg#anna speaks#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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Slow Fire Burn Chapter 1
It's the implication that there is something going on between Gale and Madge. When Katniss goes off to the Hunger Games, who else does Gale turn to but the Mayor's daughter? Gadge, slight AU/mostly canon from Madge's perspective.
Madge Undersee x Gale Hawthorne AU.
This is a story I've been working through for years, one I just cannot let go of. I've also been posting it on my AO3 profile. https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilderminded
Over much of my life, I had gotten good at making myself numb to most things. I was numb to my absent mother's neglect; she was too ill with her own demons to do much of anything let alone raise me. My father did the best that he could but being the mayor of District 12 came with its own demanding schedule. I was numb to the alienation that I felt from my classmates. As the mayor's daughter, I very clearly did not fit in with the Seam kids, who did without even the most basic survival necessities. I wasn't too welcome with the Merchant kids either though. While they had more luxuries, they didn't have access to the wealth that my family did and most of them didn't trust me. I learned to keep quiet to protect myself from the taunting of my classmates, and I did not care much for the silly topics that other girls my age were enthralled with.
I guess that's why we were such kindred spirits, Katniss and me. We both had places we would much rather be, and we didn't feel the need to make meaningless small talk. The silence between us was comforting enough most days. My father liked her too, seeing as how he overlooked her activities and bought strawberries from her regularly.
When she took her sister's place at the Reaping, I could barely handle the sickening knot in my stomach and the guilt I felt. I knew I had to do something for the girl who was my only real friend in the district. I gave her the pin that belonged to my aunt, a tribute in the 50th Hunger Games. I had hoped that she would wear it as her token during the Games, but at the least her family could sell it for money to feed themselves.
As I watched the Capitolites parade her and the baker's boy around in the opening festivities to the Games, I tried to make myself as numb as I could to the very real possibility that she would not come back. My father was required to attend dinners in honor of the annual tradition and while I usually went with him, it felt especially wrong this time. So I sit alone in the living room of our large house for the required viewings.
As I sit quietly picking at the loose thread on the arm of my sweater with my hands slightly shaking, I think back to the day of the Reaping. How she had brought strawberries to us with her friend, Gale. He had lashed out at me over the injustice of the Reaping, how my name was only in 5 times. The social status of my family prevented me from having to take out tesserae like he and Katniss. His name was in 42 times. I tried to not take this jab personally, I could not control any of our circumstances.
Gale stood behind me in line to see Katniss after the Reaping, while everyone was waiting to say their goodbyes. I could feel the heat of his glare against my back, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.
It's not fair. None of this is fair.
I let out a sharp, frustrated breath as I jump to my feet. I do not want to sit here and watch whatever fanfare they are projecting on the screen in front of me. I pull on my shoes, wrapping my sweater tighter around my body as I slip out of my backdoor. I follow dark alleyways through town, to avoid Peacekeepers, until I reach the edge of the woods. I follow a well-worn path by memory until I reach a small clearing. I am not brave enough to venture deeper into the woods like others that I know, but this quiet space dimly lit by the setting sun gives me the solace I am looking for.
With the setting sun goes the busy noises of birds and the wind through the trees. I sit on a large rock toward the edge of the meadow, my arms wrapped around my small waist as I watch the way the grass flows with the gentle breeze.
I barely get a moment to relax before I hear brances crunching behind me. I freeze in fear, all of the possibilities running through my head. I whip my head around after a beat, my eyes searching the dusky tree line behind me as the noise gets closer. I take in a sharp gasp when I see a figure approaching closer, my heart racing until I recognize the face that emerges just a few feet from where I sit. Gale.
"Are you following me now?" I ask, watching him as he walks closer.
"I was just wondering what the hell the Mayor's daughter is doing in the woods, at night no less," he says calmly, placing his hands in his jacket pockets as he shrugs. His steel grey eyes trained on me in a way that I couldn't quite interpret.
I scowl at the connotations of 'the Mayor's daughter'. "Why aren't you at home watching the Opening?"
He sits down beside me and shrugs again, his eyes fixed toward the sunset through the trees. "Same reason as you, I suppose. Doesn't feel right to watch all of this happen and pretend that it isn't my best friend being groomed and parades around for a bloodbath."
I don't say anything for a moment, studying his tensed jaw and furrowed brow. "It's not fair," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
"What do you know about fair?" he snaps, finally turning to look at me. I huff out a breath and meet his steely glare with just as much anger reflected back in my own sky-blue eyes.
"Stop giving me shit for things I have no control over, Hawthorne. You don't know anything about me," my voice in a bitter clip as I snap back.
He shakes his head, his lips in a hard line as he looks away again. "I know you've never known what it's like to go hungry. You've never held the responsibility of other people's lives..." he starts to rant and then trails off.
I let the heaviness hang between us for a long moment. "Neither of us can help the situations we were born into," I state quietly, and he nods. Though even without a word, I can still nearly taste the bitterness in the air.
We are both silent for a while before he speaks up again, this time his voice much softer as his head hangs down. "What if she doesn't come back? She's my best friend."
"I don't know, Gale," I say helplessly as he runs his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
I steal a moment to admire the boy beside me. In the settling darkness, I can just make out the line of his sharp features and I feel an old familiar, out-of-place feeling stir in me and I instantly feel a little guilty. I used to watch him at school, and as the years went on he grew more and more handsome. I found myself more attracted to the dark-haired men of the Seam than the blonde Merchant boys I should be attracted to. Which could only spell trouble for the daughter of a District mayor. Anyone could see that he was in love with Katniss, but that didn't stop most of the girls in school from having crushes on him.
"Why are you staring at me?" He finally speaks up without so much as a glance in my direction. Hunter's instincts, I think.
"Just trying to figure you out. You're hard to read, Hawthorne," I tell him, blushing when I see him smile a little.
"Good. Who says I want to be figured out, Undersee?" he counters, finally looking back over at me. I smirk and shrug, looking up at the stars that have become visible thanks to the sun's disappearance. He follows my gaze, "I never take a moment to look up at the night sky."
"The stars are so beautiful... Makes it hard to believe that life under them can be so ugly," I reply quietly, folding my hands in my lap as I look back down toward the ground. "I wish I could just escape it all. Run away from the Reapings, away from being the Mayor's daughter, away from everything."
He's silent for a moment before he speaks up again. "This will never end unless people stand up to the Capitol."
His words chill me to the bone and goosebumps cover my arms. No one says things like this in District Twelve, at least not this freely. Certainly never to someone like me. Any stirring of a rebellious spirit is shut down without so much as a second thought. "That will never happen. It can't," I say, trying to make myself believe it. It's the fear of the unknown that makes me want to refuse this as a possibility. Too many people would die.
We don't say anything for a few minutes, the air between us is uncomfortable. His words don't sit well with me. If the wrong person would hear this, it would be over for him, his entire family... I can't begin to imagine, I don't want to. After a while, I stand up, pulling my sweater around my body again. "I should be getting back before someone notices that I'm gone..." I know that no one is at home to notice my absence. No one lucid, that is. I start walking toward the tree line where the path begins when I hear his footsteps behind me. "I don't need an escort," I say defiantly, huffing out a frustrated breath.
"I'm not stupid enough to let a girl like you walk in the forest alone at night," he tells me, his long strides catching him up with me in seconds. I know that he has more knowledge about the dangers of the forests than I do, but the stubborn girl in me doesn't like the idea that I can't take care of myself. I try to speed up my steps, but his much longer legs have no trouble keeping up with me. Suddenly, in my haste I stumble and just as I'm about to fall face first into the dirt below me, a hand around my arm breaks my fall.
I stumble back into him a little as I steady myself, brushing back the waves of blonde hair that fell into my face. He chuckles, his hands out to make sure that I don't fall again. "Careful there."
I try to ignore the way my arm tingles where his hand just was and I huff out a shaky breath, starting off again. "I'm fine... but thank you," I say, glancing over my shoulder back at him. I can nearly feel his smile as I walk ahead of him and we don't say anything else until we reach town. I expected him to veer off toward the Seam as we reached the edge of town, but I felt his presence behind me as I retraced my steps through the alleyways.
As I climbed the steps to my house, I looked back at him and gave him a small, grateful smile. "You didn't have to walk me home," I brushed off, my voice soft.
He shrugged, his hands in his pocket as he looked up at me. "I know, but I wanted to anyway. Goodnight, Undersee," he nodded as I reached for the door, a small grin playing on the corners of his lips before he turned away and started back down the alley. I stood there for a moment, watching him walk away before I stepped into the warm glow of my house.
#the hunger games#catching fire#gale hawthorne#madge undersee#fanfic#fanfiction#slow burn#alternate universe#gale x madge#ao3#slow fire burn
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Agreed.
She has plenty of other options to switch things up if she wants. But Haymitch is right in the middle of it all and familiar to readers even if we don't know him super well.
I feel like it makes sense to have him narrate.
everyone's theorising about who will narrate the new thg book but i honestly can't imagine it would be anyone other than haymitch, 1st person or 3rd person alike
#the hunger games#i'm a basic girl if it's the 50th games i don't want anyone other than haymitch narrating it#like it seems very obviously haymitch's story to me idk why it would be snow or plutarch looking at it#sunrise on the reaping#suzanne collins#its his story let him have the spotlight#haymitch abernathy
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