#young!haymitch

[fablehaven-rulez]

...owww

haymitch having to address 4 different deaths for each district on his victory tour. can anybody hear me. haymitch likely having to play the narrative that the deaths of his family were mysterious unsolved murders and to even make it so, partake in the humiliation ritual of public funerals held within the capitol. haymitch having to keep distance from the other victors because he really is a killer and cannot face it. 47 faces and 47 graves dug all because of him. is this thing on. haymitch being forced to mentor tributes he likely knew as classmates or school peers for the first few years of his victory. can you hear me do you understand !!!! haymitch having his games pulled from every possible outlet and blacklisted because of the shocking nature and traitorous way of his win. haymitch likely facing so much scorn amidst all the grief just for surviving. just for making it back home.

[arthdoesart]

More Haymitch WIP

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

I'm Sorry

Young!Haymitch Abernathy x Reader

Summary: Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Warnings: Canon-level violence, implied smut, cheating, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.1K

Masterlist

“Haymitch!” I called my boyfriend’s name as he stepped off the train. He had just won the Hunger Games. Not just the Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell. Where he competed with 47 other tributes. When he had won I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for him to come home. But then I went to his family’s home and found nothing but the bleeding bodies of his parents and younger brother.

When he finally reached me, having to fight through the throngs of excited District 12 citizens, he wiped away my tears with a smile, mistaking them for tears of joy. “I’m back, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. But as he pulled away he noticed my lack of a smile. “What?” he asked, fear creeping into his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, handing him his parents’ wedding rings. He immediately knew what that means.

“No,” he tried to deny, shaking his head. “No.”

~~

“Y/N L/N,” the district escort’s voice rang out as he called my ex-girlfriend’s name. I was honestly surprised I had managed to comprehend it at all given that the crowd was a blurry haze and every word was melted together in my brain. But I saw her clearly as she walked up to the stage, fear and rage on her face. I assumed fear for the games, rage for me.

She had been there for me as I grieved my family’s death. Even when I pushed her away she was there for me. She was killing herself for me while I poisoned myself with booze and hate. All until I couldn’t handle her care and my rage anymore so I picked a fight.

“Can you not?!” I yelled as she tried to clean up my new house a little. “Just fucking leave it.”

Her sad expression, I regret to say, brought me satisfaction. I loved to hurt her for no reason. A small part of me was pained to hurt her, I think that’s what allowed me to push her away rather than trap her with my hate. “Sorry,” she murmured softly.

“Yeah you’ve said that before,” I spat, poison dripping from my words. “Why are you still here?”

She sighed, biting her lip. I could see she was silently debating whether or not she’d open herself up to being attacked by my again. “Because I love you,” she admitted painfully, tears pricking her eyes.

I scoffed. “Well I don’t love you anymore.” A small piece of my heart broke as I watched her shatter. I had spent weeks abusing her, something a part of me reveled in, but I had never hurt her this bad.

She nodded her head compassionately. “I understand.” And with that, she walked out of my life for what I thought would be forever. The part of me that had reveled in her pain immediately became regretful as I watched her go. My regret only continued to grow as I kept tabs on her throughout her life.

I tried to catch her eye as she took her place next to our escort but she refused to spare a glance at me. I understood, I had tortured her when I got back and had spent the better part of a year borderline stalking her.

I glanced at the crowd, finding her new boyfriend of five months, Rune, standing there, slack jawed. I rolled my eyes at the oaf as the male tribute’s name was called, Landon Caleban. Of course Rune didn’t volunteer to protect his girl. I would’ve. Eleven months ago I would’ve laughed at her reaping but now that my anger had faded a little, I would give anything to take her place.

As she was escorted into the capital building, I followed, immediately going into the room she went into. She had barely sat down by the time I entered and it broke my heart that she looked so surprised to see me. “Y/N…”

“What are you doing here, Haymitch?” she asked coldly.

“Well,” I began, taking a seat across from her, “I am your mentor. And… I also care about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well you sure as hell didn’t care about me when you told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

I looked down at my shoes, ashamed. “I know and I'm sorry. I’d take back everything if I could. I was hurt, and angry, and god… I felt so powerless.”

“And I was your helpless punching bag?” she finished for me, disgust in her eye.

I nodded regretfully. “I made you, the girl I love who did nothing but support me, into a punching bag,” I confirmed, still looking at the ground in shame.

“Loved,” was all she said. I looked at her quizzically causing her to roll her eyes again. “You said ‘girl I love.’ You should say loved.”

“No, I still love you,” I insisted.

“You’re the one who said you didn’t love me anymore.”

“That’s because I had a lot of misplaced anger,” I insisted. “Yes, I know it’s not fair that I took everything out on you and I have no right to try to tell you I love you but I do.”

“Well what good does that do me? I’m being marched to my deat-”

“Don’t!” I cut her off “…fucking say that. You’re not fucking dying. I’m your mentor, I’ll get you out of there.”

Before she could respond, the door creaked open. I knew even before he spoke that it was Rune. “Babe, oh my god.” I cringed as I knew she hated being called that. He rushed over to her side, taking her hand in his. “I don’t even know what to say… I just…”

She shook her head dismissively. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I promise I won’t date anyone else for a while,” he said genuinely, as if it were a touching thing to say. Even I knew that was probably the worst thing he could say. Y/N also stared up at him, a baffled look on her face. She made no verbal indication she heard him so I did. I scoffed, catching the little twerp’s attention. Upon seeing me, his face immediately soured. He knew who I was, what I had meant to Y/N. Everyone in 12 knew we were a couple. “Don’t you have a bottle of whiskey to down yourself in, Haymitch?” he sneered.

I just chuckled at his attempt to tell me to stay out of it. “Maybe you should try treating her decently and saying goodbye instead of planning your next random hookup.”

“You’re one to talk about ‘treating her decently,’” Rune immediately mocked.

Before I could respond, Y/N stood up. “Both of you shut up and get out.”

I started to say her name, hoping she wouldn’t kick me out too but she cut me off, insisting we both go. So I went reluctantly, making sure Rune left too. I’d be damned if I ever let him have a moment alone with her ever again.

As soon as we stepped into the hall, a woman I recognized as Y/N’s mother rushed in, tears in her eyes. As the door closed, Rune stepped close to me. “I know what you’re planning, Abernathy. But she’s not going back to you. You’re just a useless, 17 year old drunk who broke her heart. And I’m not gonna let you break her again.”

Some part of me knew he was right, I shouldn't be inserting myself in her life again but I had been missing her for the past eleven months. And now it was also my job to keep her alive despite only winning last year.

Not one to let Y/N’s rebound talk me down, I retaliated. “At least I actually believe in her and actually want to see her come out of this alive.”

Offense crossed over his face. “You don’t get to say that. You got lucky. We all know the odds, especially with you as a mentor. I’m her boyfriend, you blew your chance!” he yelled before storming off. I wanted to yell after him but I didn’t know what to say that hasn’t been said already so I just clenched my jaw before heading to the train.

~

I didn’t see Y/N again until we arrived at the Capitol. Probably for the best, I spent the two day journey sleeping and getting shitfaced. I hadn’t been back to the Capitol since my victory tour and I had absolutely no desire to go back but I’d be stuck doing this shit until there were two more victors.

When we all finally got off the train I finally saw her. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept since she was reaped. I honestly understood. I tried to catch her eye but she seemed determined to look everywhere but me. And before I could try to approach her, she was whisked off to styling. So reluctantly I went to the penthouse until the tribute parade.

~

I stood with the other mentors, watching the tribute parade. My heart stopped when I saw the District 12 chariot. The camera never bothered to focus on them long but from the glimpse I saw, Y/N was hardly clothed. As was typical for District 12 tributes. The stylists were a big fan of just dumping black powder on us.

By the time the tributes were re-entering the building, all the mentors were waiting to bring their tributes back upstairs. Heading over to the last chariot I found Landon helping Y/N down from the chariot. She struggled in her stilettos and mini black skirt. I averted my gaze from her mostly bare torso, the only thing covering her was a lace top shaped to look like smoke. Along with an unhealthy dose of black powder to portray the coal-mines. Something they did practically every year. I kept my gaze firmly on her from the shoulders up. It felt like a violation of her privacy to ogle her like all the Capitol citizens or how I would have back when we were together.

I managed to meet her gaze but she quickly looked away, refusing to look at me again. Even in the elevator I caught myself staring at her longingly, just wishing she’d at least look at me. But she never did. As we stepped into the penthouse I let her go to her room. Remembering how exhausted she must have been, I had sleeping pills sent to her room along with a steak.

~

The next morning I sat at the table in the main room of the penthouse, eating breakfast. My attention was caught by Landon and Y/N heading to the elevator for training. I couldn’t help but admire the way the athletic clothing hugged her body. But as I noticed what I was doing, I averted my gaze back down to my food. It wasn’t until I heard a throat clearing that I looked back up at the pair. Y/N was looking at me, a conflicted and grateful look on her face. “Thanks for the uh… stuff, last night,” she thanked quietly.

“No problem,” I replied, in slight awe that she was talking to me. She just gave me a slight smile of acknowledgement before stepping into the elevator and disappearing.

I spent the next several minutes just staring at my plate grateful that I was finally getting somewhere with her.

~

I watched anxiously as Y/N took the stage for her interview. She looked absolutely stunning. Of course I always thought she was stunning but I had to admit, some of the Capitol glamours I could get behind. She was practically glowing under the lights, makeup drawing attention to her best features.

As always, everything was in a slight haze but when Caesar asked her a certain question, it sobered me up a bit. “So is there anyone back home that you’re fighting for?”

Y/N did her best to give a graceful smile. She knew how to appeal to the audience. “Well, my mom is back home rooting for me. I can count on her for that.”

“How sweet. Any boys?” he suggested cheekily.

I watched as uncertainty crossed her face before she answered. “Yes,” she answered, her voice noticeably weak, “my boyfriend, Rune.”

“Aw, well isn’t that so sweet, huh folks?” The crowd made coos of sympathy. “Tell me, did he visit you before he left?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice cracking slightly again. “He said…” she trailed off before she seemed to decide what to say. “He said he couldn’t wait to see me after the games and that he loves me.” She gave a weak smile and my heart broke. I couldn’t believe she was lying to make this guy look good when I was the one who was actually there for her. Ever since she had thanked me for the food and sleeping pills, our relationship had improved. She no longer ignored and avoided my presence and conversation attempts. We had engaged in a few polite conversations and had even slipped back into old habits. One night, at dinner, Landon mentioned wanting to ally himself with the careers. To which Y/N and I instinctually shared a look of ridicule. I could feel my heart swell every time we interacted more like we used to. But an unreasonable amount of hurt rang in my chest as she essentially defended her dirtbag boyfriend.

I didn’t even bother to finish watching her interview, I just went straight upstairs to my room in the penthouse, bringing a bottle of vodka with me.

I don’t know how long I was laying there watching some stupid reality tv show when the door opened. In stepped Y/N in a sweater so long it looked like her legs were bare. Her face was cleaned of makeup, leaving a fresh look and I could see the exaggerated curls in her hair that remained from her updo. She just stood in the doorway, hugging herself, until I spoke. “Y/N,” I said a little too eagerly, having never expected to see her in my room again after I ended things. “Wh-what’s up?” I tried to ask casually.

She shrugged. “I’m here to drink,” was all she said.

Sitting further up, I held the bottle out to her, simultaneously gesturing to the bed to offer her a seat. She took both, perching herself at the foot of the bed, her legs crossed so she was looking at me. She took a deep swig from the bottle, cringing as she pulled it away. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression, she never got used to the taste and burn of alcohol. She noticed my expression and smiled slightly. “You know I hate the taste,” she explained, the slightest teasing tone in her voice.

“I remember,” I smiled fondly. “The only thing you liked was that flavored shit we got off that peacekeeper.”

She smiled, looking at the bottle in her hand. “Yeah, that was good. I got so drunk that night,” I got a genuine laugh out of that comment and it made my stomach do cartwheels.

“So what brings you here tonight?” I asked as she passed me the bottle.

“Well I’m being marched to my death tomorrow,” she laughed bitterly. Before I could try to console her she met my gaze. “How did you feel before you went in?”

I pondered for a second, trying to recall. “I was afraid,” I admitted. “I thought that there was no way in hell I’d survive but I wasn’t ready to die.” She hummed, nodding. I took another swig of vodka before passing it to her. “Why’d you lie about Rune during your interview?”

“You saw that?” sha asked. “I didn’t know you watched. The other mentors were there but you weren’t.” She noticed I wasn’t there? “I guess I just wanted them to think I had a reason to live,” she sighed. “I don’t really know what I was thinking but I figured bashing my-still-technically-boyfriend on national television wasn’t the best idea.”

“‘Still-technically-boyfriend?’” I questioned. “Y/N, he basically said that when, not if, when you were gone he’d be dating other girls. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We never officially said that we were broken up so it feels wrong to bash him.”

“Fuck him, fuck his feelings!” I insisted. She laughed a little at my exaggerated outburst.

“I guess I just feel like I still have an obligation to him. Like I can’t move on before we have the conversation and I may never get to have the conversation,” she mused ruefully.

I scooted closer to her, placing my fingers under her chin to make her look at me. A move from when we were together. “Hey, what do you mean obligation?” I found pain in her eyes as I asked.

She hesitated before answering me. But as she did she averted her gaze as if in shame. “You said you still love me?” she asked meekly.

My heart broke at her doubt. “Of course I do,” I promised, bringing her gaze back up again. “I never stopped. Yeah, I was angry and I took it out on you and I never should have. But I love you.” She hesitated with her next words and I took the chance to kiss her. She immediately melted into my lips much to my relief. I pulled her closer until she was practically perched in my lap, the bottle of liquor on the nightstand long forgotten.

~

The automatic alarm controlled by the Capitol went off at 6 am. As I shut the damn thing up I rolled back over, resuming my place cuddled up to Y/N. Both my arms were wrapped around her waist, my head cuddled into the crook of her neck. She groaned at having been woken up, probably a little hungover. “Morning,” I murmured into her bare shoulder. She just groaned again. This time I figured it was a groan of remembering what day it was. “C’mon,” I said, pushing myself up to rest on my hands, “you need to eat breakfast.”

She rolled over reluctantly, finally meeting my face. “Can’t even think about eating.”

“I know but you’ll thank yourself for eating later,” I advised, getting out of bed and throwing some clothes on. She followed suit, heading to the door. As I tried to follow, she stopped me.

“Wait, come out in a couple minutes.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me?” I asked only mildly genuinely.

“No,” she dismissed genuinely, placing a hand on my arm. “How’s it gonna look to Landon when I come out of your bedroom with you? With terrible bed head?” she added jokingly. I just hummed in agreement, gesturing for her to continue.

A few moments later I joined both Y/N and Landon before they were both ushered off.

~

The entire games I was a mess. I was ashamed to admit that I couldn’t remember most of it, too wracked with worry. I only ever sobered up enough to watch the rundowns of what had happened that day, listening for Y/N’s name when they listed the deceased.

I thanked whatever cruel deity was out there that Y/N survived another day. And when they told me she won, I wanted to break down crying in relief.

By the time I was able to see her, she was still very injured. She laid in the hospital bed, asleep, and it took everything in me not to shake her awake for reassurance that she was still in fact alive. But instead I settled for grasping her warm hand and listening to the rhythmic beep of her heart through the monitor. They kicked me out periodically to work on healing her and a day later, when they let me back in the room, her eyes were fluttering open.

“Y/N,” I uttered. My voice had an unexpectedly broken sob but if she noticed, she didn’t care. She sat up as best as she could as I enveloped her in a hug as tightly as possible without hurting her. “You’re alive.”

“I’m okay,” she assured me. I could feel her fingers in my hair, her other hand rested against my shoulder as she hugged me as close as possible. With as much strength as her weakened, malnourished frame would allow.

I finally pulled away, my hand cupping her face as I admired her face. She had scrapes on her face and a bruised jaw but it was otherwise unmarred. “I love you,” I whispered before pressing my lips to hers.

~

I stood behind Y/N as she stepped off the train, smiling down at her as the crowd cheered. She just stood there on the platform for a moment, seemingly in a daze. I couldn’t be more thrilled in this moment. Of course we were both shattered, both fragments of who we used to be before the games. But we were holding each other together nonetheless. I was just so grateful she made it. The picture-perfect happiness was shattered by a shout.

“Y/N!” Rune’s voice broke through the crowd. My mood immediately dropped. Ever since that night we spent together I had forgotten about the twerp.

Y/N seemed to hardly register his presence as he jumped up on the platform. He was immediately kissing her, dipping her into what would be a picture-perfect photo if it weren’t for what happened and the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable. When they broke away, he pulled her back up to her feet before pulling her in closely once again to pose for the camera. All the while, Y/N looked visibly uncomfortable from even just the rear.

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to rip the douchebag away from her and inform him that she didn’t love him. But for the sake of not creating an incredibly public, embarrassing scenario for her, I kept my fists at my sides and my mouth shut.

Y/N managed to pull away from him, disappearing into the crowd with peacekeeper escorts. Rune tried to follow after her but I stepped up to him quickly. “Hey, don’t count on this five second of fame,” I informed him in an admittedly snide tone.

He looked deeply unhappy to see me. “She’ll be my wife soon enough. She declared her love for me on national television. You didn’t do that for her,” he remarked smugly.

I glanced around, noticing most of the crowd and cameras were gone. “She never said that she loved you,” I corrected. “Besides, why’d she spend the night in my bed after that interview then?”

A dark look crossed over his face. “You didn’t. She would never.”

I admit that it’s juvenile but pride swelled in my chest as I watched him become increasingly indignant. “She did. She told me she only said that because she felt obliged to and then we slept together.”

Rage filled his features. “You’re lying, Abernathy. I know you are. What’s your game? Are you hoping that if you tell enough people you slept together she’ll just come back to you out of shame? That’s pathetic.”

I took a step closer to him, getting in his face. “You’re the one refusing to accept the truth. That makes you the pathetic one.”

Rune just looked at me with disgust. “Whatever, I guess we’ll both just have to get the truth from her tonight.”

I shrugged with a smirk. “I guess we will.”

~

I hardly even caught a glimpse of Y/N the entire day as she was too busy being pulled in every direction. Her mom was all to eager to welcome her back into her home while the district officials were trying to get them moved into their new home in Victor’s Village next to mine. Then, of course, there were the people she didn’t really know who were all too eager to suck up to the newest victor, hoping to gain a little bit of fame and wealth. And then finally, there was Rune who was practically stitching himself to her side. I was debating whether or not I should go to her and rescue her from the overwhelming-ness of being a victor and Rune’s attempts. But I decided against it, not wanting to add to her stress and because I feared that if that little bitch opened his mouth I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from punching him.

It wasn’t until the welcome back party a few of her friends threw for her that I got a chance to speak with her.

As I approached her in the crowded room, I held out a shot glass. “Grapefruit vodka?” She smiled, taking it from me.

“Where did you get this?”

“I requested a bottle before we left the Capitol,” I smiled down at her. “Congratulations, Y/N, seriously. I know the party and the drinks are a meager consolation but you deserve it,” I professed, bringing her into a hug.

She hugged me tightly in return. “Thank you, Haymitch. For everything.”

“Of course,” I returned, pulling away from the hug but still keeping her in my arms. I reached a hand up to her face. “I love you,” I professed, kissing her. Which she returned. Until she was literally ripped from my grasp. As I was wrenched back into reality I saw Rune holding Y/N by her arm.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he yelled at her.

“Hey, back off,” I told him, moving to get his grip off of her arm. But he just stumbled back, tugging her along with him.

“No, what the hell is going on?” he demanded, looking at Y/N. “I thought you hated him.”

She shook her head. “Maybe for a bit I did but you don’t get to act all incredulous, Rune. After I got reaped you said you wouldn’t date anyone else ‘for a while,’” she mocked his words. “You couldn’t even wait until I was dead. I know about Selene Ducote. While I was fucking fighting for my life you were more concerned about getting your dick wet than seeing if I’d survive. You were depending on my death.”

Rune stood there, still gripping her arm, flabbergasted. “Yeah well, you slept with Haymitch.”

“Yeah, I did” she freely admitted, “and now I don’t feel guilty about it.”

Rage filled Rune’s face as he clenched his jaw. His free hand moved to grip her jaw, “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna end things with him,” he nodded to me with disgust, “and we’re gonna get married because I know that you are in love with me.” He sent a final glare to me and I noticed his grip tightening. “Am I clear, you fucking slut?”

Now it was my turn to be filled with rage. Before I knew what was happening, I was throwing a punch at Rune’s face. He crumpled and would have brought Y/N down with him if it weren’t for the fact that I caught her around the waist. By now, the rest of the crowd had noticed us and were unsure of who’s side to take. Because while everyone had known Rune and Y/N were dating, they had also been aware of our relationship and took notice of the way she was huddled against my chest.

Rune got up, intending to punch me in return but Y/N pulled out of my arms, stepping up to him. “Enough, Rune,” she chastised him. “We’re over. We’ve been over. You’re making this so much more pathetic for yourself.” Seeing as the guest of honor had clearly made her allegiance known, the other attendees began booing him out. I only caught a glimpse of him walking out in shame because Y/N was stood in front of me again. She cupped my jaw, reaching up to kiss me.

Later that night we were both sat in her kitchen as she attempted to heal my hand that had admittedly been a little banged up when I punched Rune. We were both a little drunk so I was grateful her mom was back at her old house.

I hissed as she dabbed rubbing alcohol against my split knuckles. “If you take a swig maybe it won’t hurt so much,” she giggled.

I chuckled, admiring her blissful expression. “You can’t drink this type of alcohol sweetheart,” I explained gently. She pouted softly but didn’t say anything else as she focused on my hand.

When she deemed my hand disinfected enough, she pulled away. “I need something to wrap it with. Maybe there’s some cloth?” she suggested. She went to the cabinets, rummaging through them. Most of them were empty but a few had supplies that came with the house.

As she was looking, I quickly began to miss her touch so I got up. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, trapping her between my body and the counter. I pressed my face into her shoulder and the crook of her neck, pressing kisses into her skin. “I don’t need a bandage,” I slurred in assurance. “I won the 50th Hunger Games.”

“And I won the 51st,” she countered.

“I beat 47 others,” I argued playfully as she spun in my arms so she was facing me.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Shut up,” she laughed before kissing me.

Masterlist

[daydreamsinked]

haymitch abernathy.

[effieotto]

when the boy dies, the victor rises • Haymitch mood board

[variberii]

you guys, daddy’s home.

damn it 🛐

[diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls]

Sunrise on the Reaping changes the whole game. Suddenly, Katniss isn't the chosen one anymore, or the only person who can make the capital pay for what they have done. She's just a girl with a long list of grievances, coming from a long line of people with even longer lists who have been trying to make them pay for years.

She finds her victory standing on the backs of hundreds or thousands of people who came before her. All pushing for the same goal, all guided by the same anger and grief and the need to go out on their own terms. The same things that caused Katniss to reach for the poisoned berries for her and Peeta in the first place.

When Katniss gives her "fire is catching" it echos the same purpose the districts have had for centuries; honour the dead, make the capitol take responsibility: Sejanus with the breadcrumbs, Reaper; who covered his dead with the capitol flag, Haymitch running with Louella to make Snow face what he'd done, Haymitch running again with Lou Lou, Katniss covering Rue in flowers, Peeta painting a mural of her for the gamemakers, so when the last stand finally comes she has all of her living allies behind her, but not only that. It's like Haymitch said: "Those 31 allies I boasted of to the head game maker? I can feel every one of them at my back"

She has every person who suffered at the hands of the capital, every person who was abused, every person who was reaped too soon, every person who died, standing at her back and in the end I think that's what gave her the strength to finish the fight.

[katnissandpeetamellark]

Idek we’re all depressed

[dreaminginpencil]

"A sister is someone you fight with and fight for."

✨

(Still thinking about these babies. Features biblically accurate Haymitch this time too ha.)

[justafewberries]

haymitch very likely knew the effect finnick’s story could have on the captiol in propos. he’s the one who worked out an angle for Katniss and Peeta in the first games, not Effie. He knew how to play the crowd in his own games. He proposed authentic footage of Katniss in combat rather than studio propos. He knows a story and the way to tell it.

But even he knows there are some things that you don’t ask of people. So when Plutarch suggests Finnick tell his story in a propo, Haymitch, who had known Finnick since he won his games at 14, raised hell.

“But it’s my message to President Snow that gets the wheels spinning in Plutarch’s brain. He hastily calls Finnick and Haymitch over and they have a brief but intense conversation that I can see Haymitch isn’t happy with. Plutarch seems to win- Finnick’s pale but nodding his head by the end of it.”

[volukyrja]

Haymitch doodles in honour of Sunrise on the Reaping release!!

[irlplasticlamb]

embrace the probability of your imminent death, and know, in your heart, that there's nothing i can do to save you.

prints + merch + comm info pinned in profile :)

[feluart]

Haven't processed yet that we're gonna get a whole book about this man

[maysileeewrites]

bittersweet symphony || prologue

Haymitch Abernathy x f!reader || series masterlist

Summary: After being reaped as a Tribute for the 61st Hunger Games, you and your mentor Haymitch Abernathy are off to a rather rocky start …

contents: mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions off death; Haymitch being a drunk, snarky asshole; angst; bantering, Haymitch and Reader having a rather rocky start; gratuitous use of Princess as a nickname (you'd better get used to it); age gap! (Haymitch is in his late 20s, Reader is 18 at the start)

w.c: 5.3k (it's worth it, I promise!!)

AN: Here it is! I’m so excited but also incredibly nervous … Also don’t worry, this is in fact a Haymitch/Reader story, but the lovely @imnotcryingyouare1 suggested a way that wouldn’t make Haymitch the only one experiencing guilt for falling in love again and because I like drama and heartbreak and pining, I took it and ran haha. In other words: I really, really hope that you all like the prologue!! 

It’s fascinating how drastically a person’s life can change within just a few seconds. 

A few seconds ago, you were standing together with the other seventeen and eighteen year-old girls, desperately hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be your name that would be drawn from the large glass bowl. 

A few seconds ago, the bittersweet taste of freedom was right there on the tip of your tongue. This is the last year you’re eligible for the Reaping - you were supposed to come out unscathed on the other side. 

A few seconds ago, your heart was slamming against your ribcage and your hands were slick with sweat.

And then, Effie Trinket, your District escort read out your name, and everything changed - all of that within the span of a few seconds. 

Numb with shock, you walk onto the stage in front of the Justice Building, trying to keep your head up high. Trying not to cry, trying not to break down in front of the entirety of District Twelve, and - worse yet - all the cameras. 

You might be from the poorest District in Panem, but you won’t give the Careers and whoever else may be watching the chance to brand you as a weakling already. Though you know that the chances of you actually surviving the Hunger Games are slim to nonexistent, you can’t allow yourself to give up  already. 

And so, you take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as you come to stand next to Effie Trinket.

She’s saying something to you, but her words only register as a light, unpleasant buzzing in your ears. When you don’t respond, she frowns, before plastering a smile back on her face again, walking over to the other bowl of names. 

You bite down hard on your lip, and your hands twist into fists behind your back. 

Not Felix, please. Not Will, please.

Not Felix, not Will. 

Please. 

But Effie calls neither of your little brother’s names out. The relief that both your brothers will be safe for at least another year is only short-lived, though. 

„Kai Foster! Come on up, come on up!“ 

Your eyes widen with shock as you watch your best friend walk up onto the stage, coming to stand right beside you. 

This can’t be happening. Not Kai. Not your best friend. Not the only other boy besides your brothers you hold so close to your heart. 

The only thought that rings through your head as you numbly reach for Kai’s hand is that this can’t be happening. 

This can’t be happening. This was supposed to be your last year, you were supposed to get through this final Reaping together. Both you and Kai are already eighteen, in fact, Kai is turning nineteen in just a few weeks. 

And now, it seems highly unlikely that either of you will ever get to experience another birthday again. 

After the Games, who will be there to look after your little brothers? Ever since your mother died giving birth to Felix, it’s been you and your father looking after the boys, but your father’s a miner and while he’s doing his best to take care of you and your siblings, his work in the mines is already taking a big enough toll on him. Who will be there for your brothers? Who will be there to-

Breath hitching, you square your shoulders. You can’t afford to think like that, not yet. 

Not now. Right now, you have to hold yourself together, at least until you’re safely on the train headed to the Capitol. And so, you concentrate on the touch of Kai’s hand, as you’re looking out at the crowd, trying to hold yourself together. 

Then the Peacekeepers are ushering you off the stage and into the Justice Building, and then you and Kai are separated and you’re brought into a small waiting room, and before you get a chance to sort your spiraling thoughts and compose yourself, your family’s ushered into the small room. 

Your little brother Felix is crying, but Will, who’s only two years older than Felix and yet always trying to act all tough, is trying his hardest to keep himself from crying. He finally breaks when you turn to embrace him as well, begging you not to go, to please come back. 

You can’t lie to him, not to your little brother, and so just hold on to him tighter, catching your father’s gaze. He just gives you a sad, pained smile and somehow, that says more than all the words in the world ever possibly could. 

And then, the Peacekeepers are back again, ushering your family out and even though Felix and Will both cling to you, the Peacekeepers just drag them away, before ushering you out of the Justice Building and into a car that’ll take you to the train station. 

At least Kai is here with you, you think, as he silently reaches for your hand, threading your fingers together. At least he’s here with you as you’re being shipped off to your inevitable deaths together. 

The next few moments pass you by in a blur. Kai and you are being escorted onto the train by Effie Trinket. Her chipper, hyper-positive attitude is quickly starting to get on your nerves and so, you excuse yourself, saying that you just need to be alone right now. Kai shoots you a worried look, but you just shake your head, before heading off to your room. 

For hours, you just lie on your bed, motionless, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of home, of your family and friends - all people you’re almost certain you’ll never see again, because while you certainly don’t want to die, don’t want to be just another quick, easy kill for the Career, you just know that there’s no real, tangible chance of you possibly winning these Games - race through your head, spiraling and spiraling and spiraling. 

Finally, when you can’t take it anymore, you stand up, feeling dizzy from the sudden, quick motion. You briefly consider going to find Kai, but somehow, you don’t really feel like you could stomach talking to him right now. 

And so, you head off to the compartment you were ushered into earlier that day, thinking that after grabbing a bite of food, maybe you won’t feel so bad anymore. You don’t encounter anyone as you walk through different train compartments, which is probably for the better, seeing how you’re still feeling incredibly dizzy and light-headed and the movement of the train underneath your feet isn’t exactly helping. 

You finally stumble into the dining compartment, only to freeze when you realize that the compartment isn’t empty as you’d been expecting it to be. 

„So, there she finally is.“ 

The words are delivered in a dry, mocking tone, yet there’s a slurred edge to them. Is he ever not drunk?, you find yourself wondering as you look up into the bright, grey eyes of Haymitch Abernathy. 

Haymitch Abernathy. 

The only living Victor of District Twelve.

Your mentor - he’s supposed to coach you, to help you and Kai get through the Hunger Games. The only problem is that he’s not even once managed to keep his tributes alive for longer than the first few days of the Games, which, you suspect, has a lot to do with him being constantly drunk out of his mind. 

He doesn’t seem to take anything in life seriously, especially not his job as a mentor, seeing how he’s failed to show up to the Reapings ever since you can remember. 

He wasn’t there for your own Reaping as well, and somehow, it’s that thought that finally manages to shake you out of your state of numb shock. 

„You were supposed to be there“, you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, „you were supposed to be there - you’re our mentor and yet you can’t even give us the grace to show up to our Reaping?“ 

Your voice has gotten louder with each word, and your hands are shaking with anger. 

Your eyes find Haymitch’s grey ones again. 

For a second, you think you see something akin to hurt flash in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant, and his features twist into a scowl again. 

„Well Princess, I’m sorry for not clearing out my entire schedule for you“, he says, his tone sarcastic and mocking. 

Trying to suppress your anger, you bite down hard on your lip, shaking your head in disbelief. „Really?“, you grit out, „I can’t believe that there would’ve been much to clear.“ 

In reply, Haymitch just laughs. 

He laughs - he actually laughs in your face. 

„You’re unbelievable“, you seethe, not at all caring that he’s your mentor and nearly ten years older than you. 

He’s only twenty-seven - you’re not quiet sure, but you think that he was sixteen when he won his Games eleven years ago -, and while you have to admit that even with all the damage he’s done to his own body with all the drinking, he’s still fairly good-looking, with his short dark curls, tall stature and distinct features, yet the look in his eyes tells you that in his twenty-seven years he’s seen and experienced far more than most people do in a whole lifetime. 

Haymitch’s eyes find yours again, and something he sees in your gaze must get through to him, because he finally stops laughing, his expression turning serious again.

„I don’t really see that it would’ve made much of a difference either way“, he says, shrugging. „You and that boy would’ve still been reaped.“ 

„His name’s Kai.“ 

You expect another condescending reply, but when you look up at Haymitch again, he’s looking at you with a thoughtful expression. 

„Tell me something, Princess - why are you here?“ 

You frown. „Because I was reaped for the-“

„No“, he interrupts you, shaking his head, his gaze locking onto yours, „why are you here?“

„What - I don’t …“, you stammer, backing away from Haymitch , who, even though he’s still standing a few feet away from you, is too close, too close, too close. You feel as if even through his drunk stupor, he sees you, really sees you. He sees too much, way too much, and you just want him to stop looking at you like that. 

But, of course, he doesn’t. „Why are you here?“, he repeats his question again, „why are you here - why are you not in his room, pouring your heart out to your boy- Kai, right?“ 

At your sides, your hands clench into fists, but Haymitch continues talking, not giving you the chance to say anything. „Finally couldn’t take it anymore? Finally caught up with reality, did you now?“ 

„You’re one to talk“, you grit out through your teeth, angrily shaking your head. 

He’s unbelievable. He doesn’t even know you, and yet he just attacks you with all of these presumptions of his. He’s twisting the knife right where it hurts, and you hate him for it. 

For a moment, Haymitch just looks at you, his bright grey ares boring into yours. Then, his lips curl into another crooked grin, and he raises his glass, as if to toast you. „Touché, Princess.“ 

It’s disorienting, the way he’s switched from condescendingly provoking to a twisted, almost sarcastic kind of genuinety in just a few seconds. 

„Stop calling me that, just because you can’t be bothered to remember my name“, you snap, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

Haymitch chuckles, before saying your name. At that, you quickly turn away from him, trying to hide your surprised expression. „I do know your name“, he says, chuckling again, „it’s just that I think Princess seems much more fitting for Your Highness who demands that I schedule my whole day according to her, wouldn’t you agree?“ 

And just like that, he’s managed to destroy the small inkling of sympathy you might’ve felt for him in these last few seconds. „Well, seeing as you’re supposed to be our mentor, I’d say that it’s not that outrageous a request.“ 

Haymitch doesn’t immediately answer you, instead, he takes another swig of his drink, then swirls the remaining liquor around in the glass. Finally, his eyes find yours again. 

„You really want my advice, Princess? Stop wallowing, and embrace the very unfortunate, very likely possibility of your imminent death once that gong sounds.“ 

You scoff. „Wise words, truly.“ 

Haymitch just shrugs. „You asked for advice, you got it.“ 

You roll your eyes, scoffing again. It seems pretty clear that there’s not much more you’ll get out of Haymitch, at least not right now. Whatever his deal is, you won’t get through to him by trying to appeal to a conscience he may or may not have. 

Normally, you’d up more of a fight. He’s your mentor, and whatever else he may be - a sarcastic, drunken asshole right on top of that list - he’s probably the best chance you’ll get at trying to survive in that arena, like it or not. 

But right now, you don’t particularly feel like trying to crack to complex riddle of Haymitch Abernathy. Right now, you’re just glad that your anxious thoughts have finally stopped spinning and you’re really looking forward to truly lying down in your bed and to finally just fall asleep. 

Your father always says that things look brighter in the morning, and maybe that’s true. 

Tomorrow, you promise yourself, as you walk towards the table holding all of the fancy liquor bottles. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to Haymitch, really talk to him. 

And so you take a glass, before reaching for a bottle on the table. You can feel Haymitch watching you, his own glass still between his long fingers, as you open the bottle. 

„So, I take it that you’re not in the mood for advice anymore?“, he asks you dryly. 

You laugh darkly. „No. I’ve had a shitty day, and right now, I just need a drink.“ 

Haymitch considers you for a second, before waking closer towards you and setting his glass down right next to yours on the table. „Well, there’s something I can help you with.“ 

You don’t bother with a reply, instead only rolling your eyes, trying to fight off the smile that’s tugging at the corner of your lips.  

Once you’ve finished pouring both glasses, you take yours, watching as Haymitch takes his as well. For a moment, you consider him, then you hold out your glass towards him. 

Haymitch raises his eyebrows at you, but then there’s that crooked grin of his again and you almost feel like grinning as well. „Well, what are we toasting to?“ 

„Staying alive“, you say, shrugging. 

Haymitch considers you for a second, then clinks his glass against yours. „Well, I’ll drink to that.“ He downs the contents of his glass in one swig. The same definitely can’t be said for you. Even before actually drinking the liquor, your eyes start burning. Then the sharp, almost acidic taste hits your tongue, and you immediately start coughing. How Haymitch willingly chooses to drink that stuff with abandon is beyond you. 

Haymitch watches you, chuckling. When you shoot him a dark look, he only shrugs, but his expression quickly turns serious again. 

He clears his throat. „Listen, Princess. If you stay off my case, I’ll - I’ll do my best to help you.“ 

You raise your eyebrows, looking at him. His expression’s sincere, his grey eyes are searching yours. He really does seem to mean it. 

So you nod, allowing a small smile. „Deal. But only if you stop calling me Princess.“ 

Haymitch just chuckles. „I fear it’s far too late for that, Princess.“ 

🏹☀

The next few days pass you by in a dizzying blur of differing impressions. It seems that at every corner you’re meeting new people. 

First, the morning on the train after your nightly run-in with Haymitch, there’s Effie Trinket, your District Escort. Of course, you’ve already met her the day before, but you weren’t really paying attention then, only registering that her forced positive attitude gets extremely annoying really fast. You still find her forced brightness and her constant exclamations of it being a ‚big, big, big day! for you and Kai‘ incredibly irritating, but you soon realize that underneath that flashy Capitol accent and all her twisted beliefs of the world of Panem, there’s actually a genuinely kind soul underneath. 

Even more surprising is the fact that Haymitch seems to know her. Of course, with him being Twelve’s only living victor and her being your District’s escort, he has to know her, but these two seem to know each other in more than just a superficial way. 

When you try to ask Haymitch about it, he avoids your searching gaze, only saying that him and Effie do indeed go way back. 

You want to press on the subject, but with the way he’s crossing his arms in front of his chest and still refusing to look directly at you, it’s clear that he’s not willing to say more on the subject. So, you just sigh, before walking back towards the breakfast table. 

At least Haymitch actually showed up to breakfast. You’re pretty sure that you’ve seen him spike his juice earlier, but still, he’s here. And he’s actually making an effort with both you and Kai, asking you about your strengths and skills and warning you that the Games don’t just start in the Arena - they’ll start the minute you get off this train. In fact, they’ve already started the moment you were reaped. From here on out, every single move either one of you makes will be watched, studied, analyzed. Public perception is key and public goodwill an advantage not to be underestimated.  

After breakfast, Haymitch’s the first one to excuse himself from the table, leaving the train compartment - not before picking up another bottle of liquor and winking at your irritated expression. 

You don’t have time to dwell on his behavior, though, because Kai’s already turned towards you. „Glad to see that you’re feeling better. Not to say that this doesn’t suck immensely, but, well - you know …“, he trails off, smiling sheepishly. 

You can’t help but grin as well, feeling blood rush to your cheeks when Kai continues to look at you with a soft, warm look in his eyes. 

„I know“, is all you say. Really, it’s all you need to say, even though the words somehow feel like both too much and not nearly enough all ot once. 

You’ve known Kai practically your whole life. He’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember. What else is there left to say, really? 

For a short, fleeting moment, doubt creeps into your mind. 

The truth is that there are things you could talk about. Things still left unsaid. 

Like how you’re not all that sure anymore whether what you feel for him is really best described as friendship. There’ve been those moments - moments where you’ve felt breathless just from the way he was smiling at you. Or when he’d gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and your heart would start beating wildly in your chest.

You’re not really sure whether those are normal things to feel when in the presence of your best friend, but the thing is that there’s no point in dwelling on these thoughts, not now. 

Just as you’re most likely never going to see your family ever again, you’re also most likely never going to have a chance to explore those new feelings. 

„- hey, you still with me?“ 

Kai chooses that moment to break the silence and you’re glad to have your thoughts interrupted. 

You blink, forcing a pained smile on your face. „Yeah, it’s just - I … I ..“, you trail off, unable to put your thoughts into words. 

But Kai only nods, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. „Yeah, I know.“ 

Your eyes lock and when he squeezes your hand again, you somehow feel less awful. Kai’s always been that for you - a bright, hopeful spot in your otherwise dreary world. 

And he continues to be that for you during the next few days in the Capitol. 

He’s there for you, all the time. He never lets go of you, his hand is always there to catch you. 

When you stop off the train and are swarmed by Capitol citizens who all want to get to know this year’s tributes. He guides you through the crowd of eager, overbearing Capitol citizens, never once letting go of your hand. 

Then, before you’re both sent off to your prep teams, he hugs you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, promising you that it’s going to be alright, somehow. 

With his words in mind, you manage to get through the grueling procedure - you’re washed and scrubbed and cleaned until your entire skin feels irritated. At least your prep team isn’t so bad. Sure, they’re self-absorbed, somehow managing to make everything about the Hunger Games about themselves, but at least they treat you with some respect. Your stylist’s alright as well, though she puts you in the same baggy miners outfits the District Twelve tributes have been put into during these last few years. 

After being deemed as presentable for the parade, you are reunited with Kai. There’s no time to talk though, because you’re already ushered into your chariot, surrounded by all the tributes from the other Districts. 

To you, the parade’s a blur of faces and voices and your heart beating wildly in your chest, but through it all, Kai is holding your hand, steadying you, grounding you. 

„Nice touch with the hand-holding“, Haymitch tells you, as soon as you’re all back in your rooms above the training center. „The people loved it.“ 

You just nod, though you could swear that Kai’s cheeks are turning rather pink. When you try to catch his gaze, though, he turns away, excusing himself and saying that he needs to go to the bathroom. 

Then, it’s just you and Haymitch. For a moment, neither one of you says anything. 

Haymitch’s eyes find yours. He looks as if he’s debating whether to say something, but then he just sighs, and that crooked grin of his is back. „Well, you should get some rest, Princess. The next few days are going to be crucial.“ 

And with that, he leaves you as well. 

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at his retreating form, but then you decide to heed his advice and to try and get some rest. 

Only that sleep evades you for hours. That first night in the Capitol you lay awake for hours, tossing and turning. Several times the thought of going over to Kai’s room, seeking his comforting presence, crosses your mind, but you decide against it every time. He’s got enough to deal with on his own, you don’t want to distract him as well. And, if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’re also afraid of what might happen if you decide to completely let your guard down around Kai. 

Like that one evening in the woods, some months ago, when - 

No, there’s no point in thinking about that now. Not when come morning you’re both going to be prepared for you own death. 

So, you turn over, but still, sleep evades you. You lie awake for the better part of the night, only dozing off for a few minutes at a time, until thoughts about the fate of your family or what might await you in the arena rouse you with a chilling clarity. 

The following days, it’s the exact same thing every night. 

Every evening, after a grueling day of long training sessions with the other tributes, followed by private sessions with Haymitch and Effie - Haymitch does his best to give you and Kai strategy pointers for the Games and your interview, whereas Effie concerns herself with preparing you and Kai for your interview, teaching you important Capitol manners - you’re beyond exhausted. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s barely any strength left in your body to step underneath the shower and then out of the bathroom and into your bed. But the moment your head hits the pillow, you suddenly feel wide awake, plagued by anxious thoughts of what-ifs about the Games and your loved ones back at home. 

It’s the worst the night after the interviews - the last night before the Games. 

You toss and turn for hours, scenes of the last few days replaying in your mind over and over again.

The way Kai always encouraged you during training. The way Flora and Dalton, the tributes from District Eleven - both only twelve, so incredibly young - started following you and Kai around during training. How you eventually agreed to an alliance with them, even though Haymitch tried his hardest to convince you otherwise. But you and Kai stayed strong, wanting to protect the little ones, as Kai soon took to calling them. Soon enough, the tributes from seven and nine had joined your alliance as well, their tributes not as young as Flora and Dalton, but all still younger than you and Kai. When you’d told Haymitch about Cassie, Finn, Sarah and Lucas joining your alliance, he’d only sighed, shaking his head at you. 

„Well, I guess that no matter what I’ll say, you’re not going to reconsider?“ 

„Definitely not“, you’d replied, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

Haymitch had sighed again, though this time it sounded far more weary than just simply frustrated. „Well, I did try to warn you“, was all he’d said, before pouring himself another drink, effectively signaling the end of that particular conversation.  

Remembering that conversation with Haymitch has doubt creeping back into your mind. What if he was right in trying to discourage you from forming that alliance? What if, if it comes down to it, you won’t be able to protect all these kids? You’re fast and aced the edible plants station at training, and though you’re not entirely useless when it comes to throwing a knife, when it really comes down to it, you’re not much of a fighter. 

Kai, having had to learn how to hunt illegally to in the foods to provide for his family years ago, is good with a bow and arrow and with setting traps, but who’s to say that the arena will even have a bow and arrows? 

What if it’s like that arena a few years ago, when the whole place was a desert? What if there won’t be any weapons at all? And even if there were, there’s still the biggest question of all that’s gnawing at you - would you actually use a weapon to end another life, even if it’s self-defense or to save someone else? 

Because no matter how you might try to spin it, telling yourself that you swore to protect those kids, that you want to protect Kai or that you just want to survive - in the end, it’s still another life you’re taking, just to preserve another one. 

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. Your thoughts are spinning and you feel too hot underneath your sheets, so you throw them aside, standing up and leaving your room in a split-second decision. 

You have no idea of where you want to go, you just know that you can’t spend even another second in that room right now. 

In the hallway, you cross your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chilly night air. Where just seconds ago, your hands were sweating and you were feeling way too hot underneath your sheets, you’re starting to freeze in your thin, satin nightclothes. They’re pretty, the fabric’s incredibly soft and they’re probably more expensive than all the clothes you own back at home put together, but they’re doing nothing to ward off the chill you’re feeling. You really should’ve grabbed a sweater to throw on over your night clothes. 

Uncertainly, you turn towards Kai’s room. 

„Can’t sleep either?“ 

You freeze. Even without turning around, you know that it’s Haymitch standing in the Hallway with you, not Kai. 

„I mean, I get it, last night before the Games and all …“ 

Slowly, you turn back around. Haymitch is standing just a few feet away from you, arms crossed in front of his chest, a small bottle of liquor in his right hand, like always. 

He looks like he’s about to say something more, but before he gets the chance to, you quickly say: „Please, not right now Haymitch.“

Your voice sounds raw and uncertain, not exactly the strong, defiant tone you were aiming for. But you really can’t handle another one of his signature sarcastic remarks, not right now, not when thoughts about what awaits you in the Arena and what might happen to your loved ones back at home have been plaguing you for hours already. 

Haymitch looks ready to retort something, but then his eyes find yours, and his expression seems to soften. „Don’t worry Princess, I was just going to say that you should really get some rest … you know, get your beauty sleep and all that.“ 

Somehow, you find yourself laughing dryly. „Beauty sleep, yeah, right.“ 

Haymitch’s eyes widen when he hears you laugh and he grins as well, but then his expression turns serious once more. „I mean it, though. Adrenaline’s only gonna get you through everything for so long.“ 

You sigh tiredly. „I know, it’s just - I can’t stop thinking about … about … about-“

„About what the arena might be like?“, Haymitch interrupts you, a knowing look in his eyes. „About how your family and friends back home are doing? What you’ll do if one of your allies doesn’t make it out of the bloodbath alive?“ 

He trails off, and for a moment, neither one of you says anything. Haymitch’s grey eyes find yours again, and suddenly his eyes seem to be full of guilt and regret. 

He sighs deeply, running a hand through his dark curls. „Look, Princess, I know that that’s not the answer you want to hear, but I don’t have the answer to any of these questions, and neither do you. And driving yourself crazy over all of the what-ifs isn’t going to do you any favors.“ 

You nod, sighing. „I know. I - I know that, I - it’s just … “

„You can’t help it“, he finishes your thought, and you nod again. 

You look at him again, and something in his expression seems to shift then. There’s a dark, heavy look in his eyes, and his lips quirk into a twisted grin. „Look, I won’t - I can’t make any promises, because who knows what these Gamemakers might have up their sleeve, but trust that I’ll be looking out for you and these kids, alright?“ 

You want to say something in reply, but suddenly your throat feels all chocked-up. There’s pressure behind your eyes as well, and you blink heavily. Haymitch thankfully doesn’t comment on it, instead averting his gaze, as you try to compose yourself again. 

„I - thank you, Haymitch really“, you finally manage to say, your voice sounding small. 

Haymitch just nods, still avoiding your gaze. „Don’t thank me just yet, just - try to stay alive, because that would make my job a whole lot easier, you know?“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his words, scoffing. „I’ll try my best.“ 

„Good. And now try to get some rest, you need it“, he says, his gaze serious once more. 

You nod. „Yes, I will - I - good night, Haymitch.“ 

„Good night, Princess.“ 

For a moment, he looks at you, but then he turns around and starts to walk away. 

„Oh, and Haymitch“, you say, causing him to turn back around to look at you again, „any last advice?“ 

His grey eyes find yours, an emotion in them you that can’t quite decipher. For a moment, you find yourself unable to look away from him and you can feel your heart starting to beat faster in your chest. 

Haymitch holds your gaze, nodding, a sad smile on his lips.

„Stay alive, Princess.“ 

taglist: @sundawn1990 @star611 @psychicfartvendor @madz22 @pervigilatrix @bemissconstrued @neonawax @not-the-teen-witch @luvlyluxx @cocastyle @mannythemunchkin @alitaar @juiceboxfullofslime @imonmyvigilanteshh @queenofnightdreamland @chenellearose @bluecookies08 @laramcflyyyy @nikki-is-a-nerd @jaybbygrl @face-the-grace-blog @knights-of-ni @mel3484 @heidiland05 @qtkarma @things-i-will-never-say-to-you @yoursrosie @theseerbetweenus @nyra-42 @eatmyheartdear @jarofshells @helenasarrow

[ssweeterthanfiction]

heyyy i’ve been recently going into a a sotr spiral and am obsessed with the idea of a haymitch x everdeen!reader (burdocks sibling) and was wondering if you could write a fic on that??

YES OFC OMG

Someday, One Day.

young!haymitch abernathy x fem!reader content warnings: none!! (SLIGHT SUNRISE ON THE REAPING SPOILERS!!!) summary: a crush on your big brother’s best friend wc: 1.9k

masterlist.

For the longest time, you've had a crush on the one and only Haymitch Abernathy. From his olive skin, his dark curly hair, and gray eyes you've been hooked. He had you wrapped around his finger since you were thirteen. Maybe even earlier than that.

The only problem?

He was your big brother's best friend.

You’d grown up watching them together, the two of them inseparable in the way that only childhood friends could be. Haymitch was always there, laughing at Burdock’s dumb jokes, sharing stories that made you blush or roll your eyes. You were just the little sister who tagged along, always feeling like the third wheel.

Until you weren’t.

Until Haymitch started looking at you differently.

Every now and then, you’d catch him staring. His gaze would linger a little too long, his smile would falter. And when he spoke to you, it was never quite the same as how he talked to everyone else.

Especially when he called you “sweetheart."

It was dangerous, that nickname. It made your heart flutter in a way you could never explain. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him act affectionate before; he had a way with people, a teasing warmth that made everyone feel like they were his best friend. But when he said it to you, it felt different. It made you feel like maybe...just maybe he saw you as more than just Burdock’s little sister.

But that was just a fantasy, right? Haymitch couldn’t like you that way. You were the kid he looked after, the girl who tagged along to make sure he didn’t forget to laugh once in a while. He didn’t have time for someone like you.

“Someday, one day,” you’d whisper to yourself late at night, as you stared at the stars, convincing yourself that it was nothing more than a silly crush. You weren’t anything special, just another face in the crowd.

Still, those moments, those stolen looks, kept you wondering. Was there something there? Or was it just a product of your overactive imagination? You’d never know.

The woods were always your escape. Burdock had shown you a safe way to them, so when things got too loud at home, when the world felt too heavy, you’d wander out here, into the quiet stillness, where you could be alone with your thoughts. The sunset was just beginning to stain the sky a deep orange, casting a soft glow over the trees and the dirt path beneath your boots. You felt a sense of peace as you walked, the rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig beneath your feet the only sounds that accompanied you.

You had been walking for a while when you heard it, a soft crunch of leaves behind you, a familiar step. You froze. Then the voice you had been secretly hoping wouldn’t find you called out, low and teasing.

“You get lost, sweetheart?”

You turned to see Haymitch emerging from the tree line, his figure framed by the fading light of the sunset. His shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and his usual cocky grin was replaced with something softer. Something almost hesitant. He always seemed to know where to find you, didn’t he?

“No,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you crossed your arms, the breeze ruffling your hair. “Just wanted to get away from the noise.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Haymitch said, taking a few slow steps toward you. He glanced around at the woods, his eyes narrowing a little. “But you do know it’s getting dark, right? You might want to head back before it gets too late.”

You smile faintly, your gaze lingering on the horizon where the sun was just starting to dip below the treeline. “Maybe I just like it out here. Feels...quieter. Like the world stops for a second.”

There was a pause. Haymitch didn’t speak right away, his gray eyes scanning you with a sort of intensity that made your heart skip. “One day, I’ll figure out why you always look at things like that,” he said, his voice soft, more serious than you’d ever heard it before.

You tilted your head, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

He took a few more steps toward you, his boots soft on the forest floor. The last rays of sunlight caught in his curls, and for a brief moment, he looked almost... like he belonged here, in the quiet of the woods, far away from the noise of the village.

“I mean,” Haymitch started, his voice quieter now, “you see the world differently than most people. You don’t just see the mess. You see the moments in between. The things most people miss. Even in people...Even in me."

You swallowed, trying not to let the warmth spreading through your chest show. Was this just some Haymitch thing, where he’d tease and then leave you wondering what he meant?

"What are you talking about, Haymitch?" Haymitch stopped in his tracks, just a few feet away from you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt thick, full of something unsaid. Then, he stepped forward, his hand gently reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was warm, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should be doing this.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, the nickname now feeling tender, almost like a confession, “you don’t get it, do you?”

You blinked up at him, confusion and hope swirling in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he continued, his voice now low and full of something raw, “I can’t stop thinking about you. Not since… well, not since I actually started to...see you...” he paused, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve tried to keep my distance. Tried to ignore it, but you make it damn near impossible.”

Your heart raced in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “But…I thought you didn’t see me that way.”

“Been tryin’ not to. For a while now. Figured I’d be the worst kind of idiot, wantin’ my best friend’s little sister.”

You swallowed hard. “But you do?”

His laugh was soft. “Every damn day.”

You stared at him, your voice catching in your throat. “Then why haven’t you said anything?”

He looked away, up toward the woods where the deer were starting to step into the clearing, quiet and watchful. “Because if I let myself want you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

Silence fills the air as you look at him with a soft gaze...then...

“You drive me crazy,” he said, barely above a whisper. “You’re all I think about lately. When I’m out by the meadow, when I’m with Burdock, when I try to sleep- hell, even when I try not to think at all.”

You stared at him, speechless, your mind reeling. The boy you’d secretly hoped might feel the same way was standing here in front of you, his gray eyes filled with longing. Slowly, you took a step forward, your voice barely a whisper.

“So...you...you like me? Like that?”

Haymitch’s gaze softened, and his smile was gentle now, sincere. “More than you’ll ever know."

You stood there, frozen, heart pounding in your chest. His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, it felt like time had completely stopped. You’d spent so long wondering if this was just a fantasy, if you were just imagining something that wasn’t there. But now, standing in the dimming light of the woods, with Haymitch Abernathy looking at you like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had, it felt real. Too real.

Haymitch seemed to sense your hesitation, and he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. His presence, so familiar and yet so different in this moment, made your breath catch. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted to kiss you. How many times I’ve stopped myself because I didn’t want to make everything weird…but I can’t anymore. Not after everything I’ve been feeling. Not after how much I’ve missed this.”

Your stomach fluttered at his confession, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. You had dreamed about this. Dreamed about him confessing, about him seeing you, about him wanting you, but the reality of it was still overwhelming.

“Haymitch…” you started, your voice trembling with emotion. But before you could say anything more, he reached up, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t even want to.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes, as if asking for permission. You barely breathed, your pulse rushing in your ears, but you nodded slightly, unable to put words together. It was all you could do.

Haymitch closed the gap then, his lips soft and hesitant at first, as if testing the waters, feeling his way through the moment. When you kissed him back, just the smallest motion of your lips against his, it felt like the world tilted on its axis. All the years of stolen glances, the late-night conversations, the unspoken tension, it was all there in that kiss. The warmth of his lips, the way his hand cradled your face, the feeling of being held by someone who wanted you, needed you. It was overwhelming.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. His gray eyes were darker now, filled with something raw and unguarded. His thumb traced the line of your jaw gently, as if making sure this moment wasn’t just a dream.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ve spent so many nights just thinking about you, about us, but I didn’t know how to make it happen. I didn’t want to risk losing you, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to risk losing me, Haymitch. I...I feel the same way.”

His smile, a soft, sincere curve of his lips, made your heart flutter. “Yeah? Well, in that case…”

He kissed you again, this time deeper, more certain. The world seemed to fade away as you kissed him beneath the trees, the sounds of the forest around you fading into a distant hum. It was just the two of you now, and nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the complications, not the fears.

For once, there was no hesitation, no wondering what could be. There was only Haymitch and the way he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. And for the first time in years, you felt like the world had stopped spinning, just for the two of you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Haymitch rested his forehead against yours again, his hands gentle on your shoulders. “You’re something else, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “I’ve never wanted anything more than this.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you. “Me neither, Haymitch.”

You stayed like that for a moment longer, caught in the quiet of the woods, where nothing could disturb you, not even the past. It was just you and him. And for once, that was enough.

[variberii]

hunger games fandom im gonna start writing blurbs and oneshots and headcanons for characters (fluffy, angst, etc) so plsplsplsplsplspls gimme ideas of what / who to write i'll only write characters i THINK i can pull off :)