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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago

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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

#haymitch #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #thg #young!haymitch #young!haymitch x reader

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b00inazkaban · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

MARVEL:

☆ Tony Stark

☆ Steve Rogers

☆ Bruce Banner

☆ Natasha Romanoff

☆ Clint Barton

☆ Bucky Barnes

☆ Sam Wilson

☆ Peter Parker

☆ Thor Odison

☆ Loki Laufeyson

☆ Dr. Stephen Strange

☆ Peter Quill

☆ Gamora

☆ Drax the destroyer

☆ Rocket the Racoon

☆ Mantis

☆ Groot

Poly Requests:

STRANGER THINGS:

☆ Steve Harrington: Steve Harrington x FtM reader**

☆ Robin Buckley :

☆ Nancy Wheeler:

☆ Eddie Munson:

☆ Johnathan Byers:

☆ Argyle:

☆ Billy Hargrove:

☆ Mike Wheeler: Little!Mike x GN!CG!Reader

☆ Dustin Henderson

☆ Will Byers

☆ Lucas Sinclair

☆ Eleven Hopper

☆ Max Mayfield

☆ Jim Hopper:

☆ Joyce Byers:

☆ Dmitri Antonov:

Poly Requests:

HARRY POTTER/MARAUDER:

☆ Harry Potter:

☆ Ron Weasley: CG!Ron Weasley x Little!GN!reader

☆ Hermione Granger:

☆ Fred Weasley: CG!Fred Weasley x Little!Fem!Reader

☆ George Weasley: George Weasley x reader ; CG!George Weasley x LittleMale!Reader

☆ Neville Longbottom: Sub!Neville x Dom!Reader**

☆ Draco Malfoy:

☆ Blaise Zambini:

☆ Enzo Berkshire:

☆ Mattheo Riddle:

☆ Theo Nott:

☆ Pansy Parkinson:

Marauders Era or Lighting Era:

☆ Lucius Malfoy:

☆ Narcissa Malfoy:

☆ Severus Snape:

☆ Bellatrix Lestrange:

☆ Barty Crouch Jr. :

☆ Evan Rosier:

☆ Pandora Rosier:

☆ Zahara Zambini:

☆ Regulus Black:

☆ Sirius Black:

☆ Remus Lupin:

☆ Lily Evans:

☆ Marlene McKinnon:

☆ Mary McDonald:

☆ Dorcas Meadows:

FANTASTIC BEASTS:

☆ Newt Scamander:

☆ Thesus Scammander:

☆ Jacob Kowalski:

☆ Queenie Goldstein:

☆ Albus Dumbledore (young):

☆ Gellart Grindlewald (young):

Poly Requests:

CRIMINAL MINDS:

☆Aaron Hotchner

☆ Jason Gideon

☆ Spencer Reid

☆ Derek Morgan

☆ JJ/ Jennifer Jareau

☆ Elle Greenaway

☆ Penelope Garcia

☆ Emily Prentiss

☆ David Rossi

Poly Requests:

BRIDGERTON:

☆ Anthony Bridgerton

☆ Benedict Bridgerton

☆ Colin Briderton

☆ Daphne Bridgerton

☆ Eloise Bridgerton

☆ Simon Basset

☆ Penelope Fetherington

☆ Queen Charlotte (Young)

☆ King George (Young)

Poly Requests:

Queen charlotte x reader x King George

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:

☆ Leonardo: NSFW alphabet

☆ Raphael:

☆ Donnatelo:

☆ Michelangelo: Mikey x Reader

☆ April O'Neil:

☆ Casey Jones:

Poly Requests:

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

TOP GUN:

☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

☆ Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

☆ Jake Seresin "Hangman"

☆ Natasha Trace "Phoenix"

☆ Robert Floyd "Bob"

Poly Requests:

THE HOBBIT/LOTR:

☆ Thorin

☆ Bilbo

☆ Fili

☆ Kili

☆ Dwalin

☆ Bofur

☆ Bard

☆ Legolas

☆ Tauriel

☆ Thuranduil

Poly Requests:

TWILIGHT:

☆ Carlisle Cullen

☆ Esme Cullen

☆ Emmet Cullen

☆ Rosalie Cullen

☆ Alice Cullen

☆ Jasper Cullen: CG!Jasper Hale x nb!little!reader

☆ Edward Cullen

☆ Bella Cullen/Swan

☆ Jacob Black

☆ Garrett

The Volturi:

☆ Aro

☆ Caius

☆ Marcus

Poly Requests:

THE HUNGER GAMES:

☆ Katniss Everdeen

☆ Petta Mellark

☆ Finnick Odair

☆ Johanna Mason

☆ Haymitch Abernathy

Poly Requests:

LUCIFER:

☆ Lucifer Morningstar

☆ Mazikeen

☆ Amenadeil

☆ Chole Decker

☆ Linda Martin

Poly Requests:

How To Train Your Dragon:

☆ Hiccup Haddock

☆ Astrid Hofferson

☆ Snotlout

☆ Ruffnut

☆ Tuffnut

Poly Requests:

Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

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msmk11 · 16 days ago

Note

a hunger games fic where there’s tension between reader and haymitch but he feels conflicted because of the age gap i don’t know lots of pining and angst so i can go insane

Drunk on You

Haymitch Abernathy x fem!reader

WC: 4k

CW: Drinking/being drunk; mentions of death and blood; age gap (legal and consensual- reader is 21)

A/n: Thank you for the request!! I'm so sorry this took so long. I have been in a writing rut and also very busy, but I hope you enjoy this! I know I sure did.

You’d been lucky enough to avoid mentoring the first two years after your games- your first year by claiming insanity and the second merely because of the abundance of victors in your district. But the Capitol, and Snow, were ravenous for the return of their Angel- the sweet, innocent girl they painted you to be despite the blood they knew was on your hands.

And while the nightmares of your games were as fresh in your mind as the day they started, you persisted nonetheless. You couldn’t afford to let anyone else die at your hands, even if the cost to you was great.

So the day of the reaping you stood by Mags’ side- four’s other mentor this year- as you watched kids be chosen to be sent off to their deaths like pigs for slaughter.

The girl, someone you barely recognized but knew you’d gone to school with, looked strong. Like a potential competitor. She was tall enough, fairly lean, and the definition in her arms was obvious. Her age- eighteen- was a benefit too.

Whatever her name was (you’d been too anxious to pay attention), would be your mentee this year while Mags took the boy.

The boy.

Finnick Odair.

And while the age difference between you two was large- almost 7 years exactly- you guys were close. Like sibling-level close. It took everything in your power to not let the tears brimming at your waterline spill.

The aftermath was a flurry of rushed goodbyes, heated whispers, and your begging Mags to just help you make it through the games.

Though every instinct screamed at you to put all your efforts into Finnick’s survival, your mind knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. The girl, your mentee, may not have meant something to you, but she certainly meant something to someone. And she deserved life just as much as Finnick.

It didn’t make it any easier though.

And in the nights, when the nightmares and fears came creeping in, you turned to drink.

That’s how you met Haymitch.

Haymitch Abernathy. Blonde, 31, borderline alcoholic, victor of the second quarter quell. And your new drinking buddy.

Apparently.

When you get to the bar in the Tribute Center the first night it’s totally empty except for a few Capitol stragglers giggling in a corner booth.

You take a seat at the actual bar and order from the bartender- a brunette avox who couldn’t be much older than you. You’re sure to be extra polite as you accept your drink and take a sip of the strong concoction. It burns and you know it’ll fuck you up just enough to take the sting off the emotions squeezing your heart.

“Drinking alone? Seem a bit young to be doing that, sweetheart,” a voice interrupts from beside you.

You turn to find Haymitch Abernathy standing next to you, his appearance a little disheveled, but still obviously very handsome.

“Not sure you’re the one to be making judgements, Abernathy. You even sober right now?”

He smirks at you a little, “only buzzed for now. Care for some company?”

You scan the blonde suspiciously and decide he’s basically harmless, “fine, but you buy the next round.”

The District 12 victor lets out a chuckle and slides onto a stool beside you, “thought you had more money than you knew what to do with, four.”

“So do you,” you remind him with a shake of your head, “anyhow, it’s not about the money. It’s about the principle. You’re supposed to be a gentleman.”

Haymitch doesn’t reward you with an answer, instead turning to the bartender and ordering two glasses of whiskey.

“What brings you to the bar so early in the games?”

“Wanted to fully reacquaint myself with the tribute center,” you huff dryly, “I’ve missed it sooooo dearly.”

“You’ll get used to it pretty damn fast. Especially now that the Capitol’s got its claws back on you, you won’t be able to escape it.”

He takes a sip of his drink thoughtfully, “I mean, their angel has made her return.”

A scoff escapes you in spite of yourself and Haymitch smirks.

“What would they think if they knew you were getting wasted with the Capitol’s most disappointing victor? Your reputation would be ruined.”

“Then maybe I should stick around you a little longer, Twelve. Let some of your bad energy rub off on me. Maybe even have them catch me leaving your room.”

Haymitch chokes on his drink and you smirk.

“What?! Catch you leaving my room like, like we?”

“Had sex,” you tease, “goodness Abernathy, I didn’t pin you for a prude.”

He rolls his eyes at you and huffs cockily, “me, a prude? Babydoll back where I come from I have a reputation. I’m just shocked that the Capitol’s perfect little angel could be so naughty.”

It’s your turn to choke when he sends you a wink, and you try to cover it with a cough.

“Looks can be deceiving, Abernathy.”

*****

You’re not sure if it’s the booze or the blaring music that’s giving you a headache. Or maybe it’s the relentless stares and unwanted approaches by dimwitted Capitol folks. Regardless, you want to be anywhere but here right about now.

A party. Celebrating. The arrival of tributes. The arrival of doomed children.

It makes you sick.

You forget someone is yapping away in your ear until they’re suddenly interrupted by your savior.

Haymitch.

“I’m sure the story you’re telling is lovely, really, but unfortunately we’re being pulled away for important mentor business,” he shares calmly, barely suppressing a smirk.

“Oh, oh. Yes, of course,” the blue-haired person before you chatters, “I’ll have to catch you another time.”

Haymitch, thankfully, is already pulling you away before they can make you answer.

The blonde pulls you through the crowd, hands intertwined, and you can’t help but shiver. You figure it must be the evening chill in the air.

You seem to be walking forever, further and further away from the party until the voices and music are a faint hum. He’s hidden the two of you away in one of the President’s many flourishing gardens. One that, surprisingly, doesn’t have a rose in sight.

When Haymitch finally comes to a halt you look at him and smile, eyes darting between his face and your joined hands, “what was all that for?”

He looks at you disbelievingly, “I was saving you.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, “who said I needed saving?”

“The poor glass in your hand that you nearly squeezed to death.”

You once over the glass full of some colorful drink in your hand and shrug noncommittally, throwing it back and then setting the empty glass on the wall.

“I think you just wanted time alone with me, Abernathy. Seems like an awfully convoluted plan….showing up to the Capitol party, stealing me away so dramatically….”

He releases your hand and leans back against the wall, “don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for the free booze. I only brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

A scoff escapes you and you roll your eyes.

“Anyhow, you owe me now- for saving you. And for missing out on free drinks because of it.”

“Let me guess, with more booze?”

“How else?”

“I don’t know… a meal, a simple favor…. My friendship?”

Haymitch winces and taked a large gulp of his drink, “don’t think the last would be much of a reward.”

You go to slap his arm but he stops you, his hand grabbing yours.

“You’ve got wicked fast reflexes,” you choke out, trying to suppress the gasp that escapes your lips.

“I’m a victor, remember?”

When you look up at him, his smile seems to briefly vanish, replaced with something much darker.

You take his drink and finish it while squeezing his other hand.

*****

“You clean up nice.”

Haymitch looks more than disgruntled to be stuffed into a fancy suit and you can barely suppress your laughter.

“Shut up,” he grumbles under his breath.

It reeks of booze.

“What? I’m just saying it’s nice that you’ve changed up the homeless look.”

The blonde eyes you with a glare, “And I see they’ve stuffed you into another ridiculous costume.”

Haymitch is right. You do look ridiculous, and you’re not even the one on stage tonight. The white, feathery dress made for you was certainly intended to represent your angel persona. You think you look more like a white duck.

“I suppose it’s better than usual,” you scoff, flattening out a few ruffled feathers, “though it itches like crazy.”

You begin to fidget with your dress again as the group of mentors slowly gather in their assigned seats near the front of the auditorium. The shrill voices of an excited audience echo loudly throughout the room as you step inside. You prepare for the stares and whispers, donning your mask and armor bravely.

Still, your hands shake. Your body’s thrown back in time to your games. You can remember clear as day standing up on that stage as Cesar talked and prodded, guiding you right into the role that had already been decided.

Sweet. Innocent. Lovely. An angel.

You’d fallen for the trap, mistaking the net for a lifeboat.

And had you ever really escaped it?

The knots in your stomach are answer enough, and the seat soon before you is a welcome reassurance for your wobbly legs.

Somehow, you’ve ended up between Mags and Haymitch. The former smiles at you warmly, nodding in a way that is inexplicably reassuring. Deep down, you know that she’s telling you that Finnick will be okay. That you’ll be okay.

And when a hand lands on your knee, you’re doubly reassured.

“Stop tapping your foot, it’s even making me anxious,” Haymitch grumbles.

You still, turning to look at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… weird being back. I feel like I’m back in my own games, being in this room again. I hate it.”

Haymitch shifts a little and you see him reveal a small golden flask in his hand.

“Want a drink?”

As tempting as it sounds, you shake your head, “I think I’d puke if I drank. And I want to be present anyway. Ready for anything.”

Your eyes flit to his hand still on your knee and you recall the pleasing warmth as he held yours those few weeks ago. Carefully, you reach out and intertwine your fingers, resting your clasped hands between you. At first he stiffens, and you think he’s going to pull away. But then, he doesn’t.

And the flask disappears into his pocket, unused.

*****

The blare of the horn through the speakers nearly sends you into a meltdown on the spot. It feels so deeply real to you, even though you’re miles away from the games. Your eyes are trained on your tribute as she sprints forward towards the cornucopia, and towards her potential death. Still, she’s technically a career, so you have hope that she’ll survive the bloodbath.

Your eyes stray to Finnick too and your stomach rumbles in worry. But you know that he’s strong and determined, so you try to relax.

Like usual, the bloodbath is ruthless and you can barely stomach it. It’s worse too because you have a stake in the outcome. Not just your own life or strangers’ lives, but someone you’ve trained, someone you care about.

It doesn’t register with you that the death of strangers might actually affect you more than you realize. In particular, the two tributes from twelve. They’re struck down quickly, as they often are, and your heart twists. While the death of children is certainly part of the cause, it’s the image of Haymitch that really pains you. Another year, another loss, and you wonder how he bears it. You suppose he doesn’t.

Hence, the booze.

Once the initial craziness of the bloodbath calms down and you’re sure that both your tribute and Finnick are safe, you go on a hunt for Haymitch.

It doesn’t take you long if you follow the trail of beer.

Not literally, of course, but the bar is certainly the right place to start. Haymitch is slumped over on a stool and your heart breaks a little.

“Drinking alone?” you say quietly.

The blonde looks at you unimpressed and you’re immediately taken aback by the pain swimming behind his eyes.

“Care if I join you?”

He hums noncommittally and you don’t take that as an outward no. After you take a seat you order a drink and sip silently for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about your tributes.”

Haymitch shrugs, “I knew they were never gonna make it.”

“But it can still hurt,” you remind him.

Haymitch scoffs a little, “I don’t care. I barely knew the kids.”

You study his face and can tell that he actually does. Of course, you don’t say that. Instead, you reach out and grab his hand. This time, he doesn’t even flinch as he grips yours back.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You drag him along to the fourth floor suite and bring him inside.

“I’ve entered enemy territory,” the blonde says gruffly.

You smirk at him and hold up a bottle of whiskey, “what about now?”

He smiles a little and you pour a drink for each of you before settling on the couch next to him so that your knee is touching his thigh- so you’re fully facing him.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend to be strong,” you tell him softly.

“I’m not pretending, I’m fine.”

Haymitch turns his head away and you hear a small sniffle.

“Sweetheart,” you coo.

You grab his chin and gently turn his face towards you. He looks embarrassed and teary eyed and you stroke your thumb over his cheek. Haymitch’s eyes flutter shut and you think it’s a rather pretty sight.

“It’s okay,” you whisper very softly.

When Haymitch opens his eyes you’re inches apart, and your heart stutters in your chest.

You both lean slightly closer, your breaths mingling.

“Haymitch…”

He abruptly pulls back.

“I think I need another drink.”

*****

You suppose you’re glad it was quick. Hopefully pretty painless. No chance to be afraid or to bleed out slowly.

But it also happened so fast. One second your tribute was breathing, and now she’s gone. You’d had such high hopes for her, and now she was dead. Was it your fault?

Was there something you could’ve done to warn her? To prepare her better?

You feel even more guilty because you’re sort of relieved that she’s dead. Not because you wanted her to die, but because it means Finnick is one step closer to getting out of the arena. Back home to District Four where he is relatively safe- or at least in your dome of protection.

When the guilt subsides, it’s replaced by numbness. That’s all you feel.

You understand now why Haymitch drinks. It provides some semblance of warmth when all you feel inside is coldness and emptiness.

Knocking. You hear knocking.

You stumble to the door, bottle in hand, and there he stands.

“Haymitch!”

You lunge towards him and he catches you, gripping your waist firmly. If you were sober, you would’ve been able to suppress the shudder that runs through your body from his touch.

“Want a drink?” you slur, your boozy breath blowing in his face.

He shakes his head at you and you shrug, “more for me then.”

You lift the bottle neck to your mouth but he stops you, gripping your wrist gently.

“I think you’ve had enough, sweetheart.”

A loud laugh escapes your lips and Haymitch shushes you, shuffling the both of you inside and closing the door, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just funny- you telling me I’ve had too much to drink. Hilaaaaarrious!”

“Well I have a better tolerance.”

You shuffle back and topple over the couch arm, sending Haymitch down on top of you.

“Oooooops… sorrrrryyyyy” you giggle.

The blonde pushes himself up off of you and sets the bottle down on the side table.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Haymitch asks softly, more kind than you’ve ever heard him before.

You sober up a little at the question and scoff, “Of course I’m not fine. My tribute just bled out on

television in front of millions of people.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he mutters gruffly.

“Why? What was it you said? You barely even knew your tributes…It’s not like I did either. Why should I care? Or be torn up?”

“Because you’re a better person than me,” Haymitch adds gently, “Because you wear your heart on your sleeve and care so deeply about people.”

He grips your knee and smiles at you sadly.

“Well I’m done with caring,” you slur, “It only hurts more. I like your way- drink yourself to death.”

You lunge towards the bottle behind him and he reaches out, stopping you again by grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. Surprisingly, he doesn’t let go when he pulls you away from the bottle. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, hugging you.

“What’re you doing?” you mumble into his chest.

“Giving you a hug, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

He scoffs exasperatedly, “I can stop.”

“NONONO don’t! Don’t.”

You shift back a little to look him in the eyes, “It’s… nice. You’re…nice.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me nice before.”

You look at the blonde softly, infatuated by his face- the stubble across his chin, his piercing eyes, his lips…

By some unknown force, you’re pulled to his lips. You reach out and close your eyes, pressing your lips to his. For a moment, he reciprocates, his mouth melting against yours. But then he pulls away, “Stop, stop. You’re drunk.”

“So? You’re always drunk and I don’t stop you from doing things you want,” you remind him.

“I don’t- you’re. Even then, it doesn’t matter. You’re too young and I-”

Haymitch stands abruptly and leaves, abandoning you on the couch, alone.

*****

Finnick’s return to the Capitol should be more joyous than you currently feel. You’re beyond relieved that he’s back and safe, within arms reach. In fact, you haven’t let him out of your sight in days and you think he’s starting to get annoyed by you.

Still, something continues to burden your mind or, rather, someone.

You haven’t seen Haymitch since you drunkenly tried to kiss him a few days ago. Though you were incredibly wasted, his words still ring in your mind clear as day- “you’re too young.”

It’s more painful than flat out rejection, really. Him not having feelings is one thing, but the knowledge that he potentially does and still won’t let you in hurts much more. What-ifs haunt you constantly, and the memory of the look on his face when he pulled away slowly rips your heart to shreds.

Now there’s only an evening left until you’re set to return home to District Four, only one night until you won’t see Haymitch again until…well you’re not sure how long it will be.

“You know, I’m the one that should be moping about,” a voice says.

You look up to see Finnick staring at you from the doorway, a knowing look on his face.

“I’m not moping…I’m just tired,” you say.

It is true, but so is Finnick’s statement. Not that you’ll tell him that.

He quirks an eyebrow at you and walks into the room, plopping down on your bed, “Such a bullshit response. Come up with a better excuse if you’re going to lie.”

“I’m not lying I-”

You shut up as he looks at you unimpressed.

“Come on, I can read you like a book. What’s wrong?”

You sigh and look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Nothing I- I kissed Haymitch,” you murmur.

“What’d you say? I can barely hear you.”

“I kissed Haymitch,” you say more boldly.

Finnick’s eyes widen, and it would be comical if it were any other situation, “Abernathy? You kissed Haymitch Abernathy?”

“Yes, Abernathy. Is there any other Haymitch?”

Finnick shakes his head in disbelief, “I owe Mags five dollars.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mags told me she thought you two liked each other. But I didn’t believe her, so we bet on it. Guess I can’t be that mad though.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, we’re not together or anything.”

Finnick looks at you intently, “why not?”

You sigh and pause for a moment, “Because he said I was too young.”

“That’s such bullshit,” the blonde scoffs, “you’re only like, what, ten years younger? Anyhow, you’re an adult who can make her own decisions.”

You shrug your shoulders and sigh, “I just wish I never would’ve done anything. I was drunk and stupid and now he won’t talk to me.”

A pillow gets thrown at your face and you wince, scowling at Finnick, “what was that for?”

“Drunk you was smarter than sober you. She acted on her feelings. Now you’re just sitting around moping.”

“I-”

Finnick looks at you seriously, “Don’t waste your chance. We both know life is too short to have regrets.”

You stand up quickly and kiss Finnick on the cheek, “when did you get so smart little bro?”

He only rolls his eyes at your endearment and shoves you out the door.

Your hand shakes as you hold it up to the twelfth floor door. It’s ridiculous, really, how you’re more nervous to confess your feelings than you were to fight in the games.

You take a deep breath and finally knock stiffly.

There’s momentary silence and you think maybe Haymitch is asleep or not there. But then you hear shuffling from the other side and the door is yanked open- “Wha-?”

Haymitch freezes at the sight of you, his likely nasty reply hanging off of his lips.

“What are you doing here?” he asks more calmly.

“I-I came to apologize.”

Then, you shake your head, “that’s a lie. I’m not here to apologize because I’m not sorry for what I did… for kissing you. I’m only sorry you left too soon and I was too drunk for us to talk about it.”

Haymitch stands in the doorway still and only stares at you dumbfounded.

“Can-can I come in?”

Finally the blonde nods and steps aside, welcoming you into his space. It’s slightly messy and you suppose he hasn’t left the suite in days, not that you blame him or mind.

You find a seat on the couch, comfortably separate from Haymitch on the other end.

“Haymitch-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. For walking out on you. It wasn’t the right thing to do. I-I panicked and you were drunk and…and I haven’t felt anything like that in a long time.”

You stare at him softly and your heart beats in your chest, “So you did feel something.”

Haymitch runs his hand through his hair exasperatedly, “Fuck, of course I did. I mean, you’re smart, funny, and beautiful, how could I not?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look down at your hands awkwardly… “but you think I’m too young. You said that.”

He sighs, “I-I did. And I meant it. I still do. You’re young, you still have a life to live. You deserve to be with someone young and put together and better…”

You scoff gently, “Did you ever think to ask me what I think I deserve? Why do you get to decide for me?”

Haymitch’s mouth opens and closes silently like a fish.

“Maybe what I want- maybe what I deserve- is a kind, handsome guy who might be a little rough around the edges, but who is gooey and sweet on the inside. What then?”

“But I’m a drunk and fucked up and…”

You reach out and grip his hand tightly, “I don’t think I’ve seen you touch a drink in days. And also, look who you’re talking to. I don’t exactly handle my trauma well either. I’m a victor too, remember?”

You shuffle closer to him, “Please don’t push me away, please-”

Before you can finish your response you’re cut off as Haymitch moves forward and pulls you into him, kissing you passionately.

You melt into his touch and sigh, finally being rewarded with what you’ve been craving for weeks.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, panting softly, “you know, you’re right. I haven’t drank in days because I found something better. I got drunk on you instead.”

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy imagine #haymitch x reader #the hunger games fandom #the hunger games fanfiction #thg haymitch abernathy #thg haymitch #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x you #the hunger games haymitch #haymitch abernathy fic #haymitch abernathy fluff #haymitch abernathy angst #hunger games

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thedelicatearcher · 7 months ago

Text

thedelicatearcher's masterlist

my requests are always open!! if you have any thg character request (blurb, headcanons, one shot, etc), thought or just want to talk about them, my asks are open!! (also i love glee and would write anything about quinn fabray)

sorry if sometimes it takes me a while to respond to my asks, at times my inspiration is a little bit low or uni is killing me, but i will answer them

i looove talking about anything, so pleease don't be afraid to interact with me, i would love to be mutuals :)

THE HUNGER GAMES

Finnick Odair

boyfriend!finnick odair who helps you study for your finals

boyfriend!finnick odair who breaks up with you after seven years together

finnick odair who loves making improvements to your home to make your life easier

finnick odair who loves doting on his partner, but he also loves being doted on back

finnick odair is a sucker for affection from his romantic partner

finnick odair loves knitting and crocheting

finnick odair loves knitting and crocheting with a swiftie gf

finnick odair has a bed full of plushies

finnick odair loves dancing with you on the living room floor

finnick odair x reader who loves animals

modern!finnick odair would be a sucker for romcoms.

modern!finnick odair is a passionate duolingo user

finnick odair and reader going dress shopping

modern!finnick odair loves minions

finnick loves being taken care of when he feels sick

finnick survives the mutt attack but is left with scars

finnick's hair after the rebellion

finnick odair loves showering with his partner

boyfriend!finnick odair and classic maritime romance

modern!finnick odair considers himself a fashion connoisseur

young!finnick had a lemonade stand

finnick odair has nightmares

poet!finnick odair who can’t stop writing about you

boyfriend!finnick odair calls you cupcake

finnick odair loves gifting you flowers with symbolism

finnick odair doesn't want to wear his retainer

modern!finnick odair loves fearless

finnick odair with a musical gf hc

painting finnick's nails

finnick odair loves receiving forehead kisses

modern!finnick odair loves cats

finnick's favorite ice cream

finnick and johanna watching garfield

finnick odair & surprise songs

finnick odair is a hydrated king

finnick has a stanley cup in every color

finnick odair has protective cases

finnick odair & the sims 4

finnick odair had braces as an adult

finnick is an expert at poker

finnick has a spiderman toothbrush

finnick odair loves being the little spoon

finnick odair is an excessive emoji user

finnick odair loves watching cake boss

finnick is a menace playing roblox

finnick gave everyone a kenough hoodie

finnick odair is bad at making pancakes

finnick odair likes going to sleep early

fair dates with finnick

finnick odair fluff alphabet (coming soon!)

finnick odair and what happens after he exposes president snow in mockingjay (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair with his tattoed gf (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair and reader who dyes their hair (coming soon) (requested)

finnick odair with a rockstar gf (coming soon) (requested)

Katniss Everdeen

young!katniss everdeen x hyper fem!reader

modern!katniss everdeen loves garfield

katniss finishes the milk and puts it back

katniss has a candy crush obsession

katniss owns tons of scrunchies

Johanna Mason

johanna and finnick watching garfield

johanna mason & character.ai

johanna mason x reader after the rebellion (coming soon!!) (requested)

Peeta Mellark

nothing (yet!)

Haymitch Abernathy

haymitch learns how to braid your hair

Everlark

everlark falls in love in every universe.

katniss and peeta move out of the victor's village after the rebellion

modern!everlark as swifties

modern!everlark and minecraft

peeta proposed to katniss in the lake

everlark & chocolate croissants

everlark & the sims

everlark & ice cream

everlark washing the dishes

roadtrips with everlark

General Headcanons/Blurbs

THG characters and the ttpd songs i think would be their favorites only based on vibes and delusion (i made it before it came out lol)

THG characters and their favorite animated character

THG characters and their favorite animated character (TBOSAS edition)

modern!finnick odair and modern!peeta mellark love water parks

modern!finnick odair would call the property brothers to remodel everlark's home

GLEE

Quinn Fabray

quinn fabray loves snoopy

#english is my second language so my english may be a little clunky sometimes but i try my best lol #the hunger games #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #everlark #headcanons #glee #quinn fabray #quinn fabray x reader

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oweninadaydream · 9 months ago

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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"

#oweninadaydream #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #female reader #fem!reader #the hunger games imagine

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thelittlestladylikesthis · 4 months ago

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The Pink Rose, part 3

Part Three- July 4th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Word count: 2,972

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, couple argument, slapping, guilt, age gap, pet names, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice. Warning line marks 18+ part

[Y/n] had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in the plush, velvet seats on the train that would take them to the Capitol. Haymitch was on the train somewhere; probably the bar car, and Effie would be escorting Katniss and Peeta to the train station about now. [Y/n] had boarded the train early to make herself up to Effie and the Capitol’s standards. She pinned her hair up with a hairpin that had a snake on one end and it’s eyes made of green stones. Her silk dress was a deep emerald color and wrapped around her shoulders was a sheer, matching shawl. On her feet were a set of black high heels with what might have been the sharpest toe point in history. Starting today and until the end of the games, [Y/n] would have to step into the role of the glamorous, voluptuous, female victor from District 12. The diamond in the rough who had been extracted from 12 by the Hunger Games. This was an embarrassing way to be seen and [Y/n] hated it. She felt dirty wearing an outfit that could no doubt have been sold to feed a family of 4 for at least a month. But the other Victors would only see her for what she was: a formidable opponent who had defied the odds in her own game, but never had tributes who could do the same.

Shaking her head away from the superficial complaints she’d kept to herself, she thought of Katniss and Peeta. Would they be receptive to her help? To what extent did they even have a chance? How long would they last? [Y/n] felt evil thinking that last part; but as Haymitch had said in the past, the earlier they die, the longer you have to drink about it.

After an eternity of waiting, the silver door to the train car slid open, and in walked Katniss, followed by Peeta and Effie. The two teens had identical looks of shock on their faces. It would’ve been quite the sight to a young person from District 12. Nothing in their District was this shiny or immaculate. Even with Peeta being the son of a baker, [Y/n] doubted that neither he or Katniss had ever seen such an array of baked goods and fruit in their lives. The two took seats near [Y/n]. They moved slowly as if they were afraid they might break something. No doubt the very color of the fabric on the chairs was foreign to them.

Effie poured two cups of tea- one for herself and one for [Y/n]. She brought the cups over and made herself comfortable.

“200 miles per hour and you can barely feel a thing,�� she mused excitedly to the teens, “I think it’s one of the wonderful things about this opportunity- that even though you’re here and even though it’s just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this!”

[Y/n] smirked because Peeta and Katniss did not appear to fully share Effie’s excitement at their “opportunity”.

Effie could only stand so much awkward tension before she got up and walked out of the car, “I’m going to find Haymitch; he’s probably in the bar car!”

[Y/n], Katniss, and Peeta sat in silence for several minutes, just observing each other and glancing around the car so as not to make eye contact. Just when the silence was about to break, the car door slid open and in walked Haymitch. He had the slightest sway when he walked, but other than that he was still in a functional stage of drunkenness.

He looked at Katniss and Peeta and with a hint of sarcasm said, “Congratulations,” before walking to the small liquor cart to pour himself another drink. [Y/n] rolled her eyes at the snide comment from her fellow victor. The group continued to sit in silence, this time all watching Haymitch as he rummaged through the cart and mumbled, “No ice? Why can’t they get ice?” he slammed down the lid on the ice bucket, making Peeta jump in his seat. With a glass in one hand, Haymitch decided to just drink straight from the bottle if he couldn’t have his drink iced. Katniss’ eyes followed him suspiciously as he walked towards them and sat down next to [Y/n]. Katniss was just worried that he’d try and hug her again.

Peeta looked at Haymitch and [Y/n], cleared his throat and asked “Okay, when do we start?”

Haymitch immediately held up one hand, “Whoa! So eager!” [Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder as he continued his sarcastic remark, “Usually you all aren’t in such a… hurry,”

Before [Y/n] could open her mouth, Peeta looked right at Haymitch and without missing a beat, “Yeah, well, you’re our mentor, you’re supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice!”

Haymitch looked at him with an irritated expression, “Oh, well then, embrace the possibility of your imminent death and know- in your heart- that there’s nothing I can do to save you,”

Peeta glared at him as Katniss shot back, “So why are you here then?”

“For the refreshments,” Haymitch got up, put his hand on [Y/n]’s shoulder and then walked back towards the bar car.

Peeta shot up before calmly stating, “He’ll come around, I’m gonna go talk to him,”

“Peeta!” [Y/n] called, but he ignored her and followed Haymitch out.

[Y/n] and Katniss stared at each other for a second before [Y/n] sighed, “I’ll apologize for the rude welcoming; not that the whole idea of the Hunger Games is welcoming in the first place. But you should at least be able to trust the few people from your District who will be in the Capitol,”

Katniss nodded and quietly thanked her.

“I think we should wait to talk strategy until the boys are less… riled up,” [Y/n] suggested, “Why don’t you go take some time to yourself? Have a snack and a shower- those will be nonexistent in the arena. Might as well use Capitol resources for your benefit while you can,” she smiled at Katniss and declared she was going to take a nap before dinner as she left the car in the opposite direction of Haymitch and Peeta.

So far, Katniss liked [Y/n] much better than Haymitch or Effie. There was something about [Y/n] that was kind and comforting, but also mysterious and seemingly held some contempt for the Capitol.

* * *

After dinner had been cleared, [Y/n] shooed Katniss and Peeta to bed and told them they had a long day tomorrow. The two didn’t hesitate to leave and struggled to drag their bodies- who’d never been this full of food- back to their quarters.

As soon as the doors slid closed, [Y/n] looked at Haymitch and gave him a disapproving look. Effie looked at the two of them and straightened up in her seat, wondering if [Y/n] would finally be taking her side.

Haymitch looked up at [Y/n] with an oblivious look, “What?”

“Really Haymitch? Those kids need people they can trust before they go into that arena. You didn’t have a mentor at all, and I’ll admit you were no help until you realized I actually had a chance! You could at least try. That’s all I ask is you not act like a drunken fool when you’re around kids from our District who’ve been sent to the slaughterhouse!”

“Why do you suddenly care so much about these two?” He stood up and walked over to her side of the table, “Over ten years and all of a sudden,” he put one hand on the table and one on her chair. He leaned in, “You think you can point the finger and be the only one who cares? You, the one who disappeared to the Capitol for months at a time? Boy, the Capitol must really love you- what did Snow offer you to starting caring more for-”

[Y/n] shot out of her seat and slapped Haymitch sharply across the face as Effie gasped her name loudly.

[Y/n] glowered into Haymitch’s face, “Don’t. Ever. Use Snow and the Capitol against me,” Feeling the tears begin to build, she rushed from the car. Haymitch had no idea what he was talking about. After becoming a Victor, she did spends up to 3 months in the Capitol at a time, but not by choice. Haymitch wouldn’t know. There were maybe two other Victors in all of Panem who more or less knew what she had experienced, and [Y/n] didn’t want her tears to tell the others.

* * *

[Y/n] lay in her bed staring at the dark ceiling of her chambers. She had enough experience with the Capitol’s trickery to know that at least one of the four sconce chandeliers held a camera. She was one of the desirable victors, so the Capitol used any chance to collect even a glimpse of her body. This was one of the ironies of being spontaneous at Haymitch’s house; the Capitol could not care less about Haymitch or his sex life. [Y/n] chuckled at the thought of someone paying money to see Haymitch pace around his room, drunk.

Drunk and angry? How upset was he that she had slapped him? The guilt of attacking the only person who meant anything to her began to build. Did she ruin her chances with him? They’d never had an interaction like that before. A tear ran down her cheek- putting on a show, being nice, and then attacking when they’ve upset you. She was no better than the Capitol.

Her mind raced in circles: she’d just been mad at him for being drunk hours earlier. No- not for being drunk, for how he treated Katniss and Peeta. And she acted irrationally when he said something she didn’t like. And despite how they’d acted, she knew neither of them meant it- she hoped he didn’t mean it. The Capitol had done a number on her and every other Victor. No one came out of the arena the same way they went in, and that followed them until the day they died.

[Y/n]’s mind raced through the countless Victors she’d met who were unstable in so many ways. She must’ve seen crazy to someone too. She threw herself out of bed and realized she hadn’t changed out of her dinner dress or taken off her makeup. At least her hair wasn’t a disaster; not that she cared, Haymitch had seen her bedhead before. [Y/n] wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she apologized. Now.

She picked out a pair of black slippers and made her way to the next train car. The train never ceased to amaze her, sneaking around like a delinquent child and she couldn’t feel the train moving beneath her feet. But the train would feel her and it would see her too. Every hall had a camera to watch who was moving where. [Y/n] shrugged, they could know she was going to see Haymitch at 11:30 at night, but they could only assume what would happen once she went inside.

[Y/n] made it to the next car and found Haymitch’s chambers. She lightly knocked on the door and listened for a response. Instead of a voice, the door quickly slid open. Standing in the doorway was a disheveled Haymitch. His shirt was unbuttoned, his pants wrinkled, and his feet bare. His salt and pepper curls were wild and his grey eyes tired. But something about those eyes became brighter when he realized who was at his door.

After a brief moment, Haymitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room and embraced her, “I’m sorry for today,” he whispered into her hair.

[Y/n] was stunned, she didn’t come here looking for an apology, “I came to apologize to you… are you still drunk?”

“No,” he said quietly and let go except for her hand, “I know I’m not because I can feel it… I understand if you don’t want to deal with… this,” he gestured to himself.

[Y/n] sighed, “You must be forgetting, I’m the one who slapped you. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,”

Haymitch chuckled and pointed at the scars across his abdomen, “Not the worst I’ve had,”

She rolled her eyes, “Haymitch, I still feel bad. It was uncalled for and irrational and -”

Haymitch grabbed [Y/n] by her upper arms, and smashed his lips onto her. [Y/n] placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest. He pulled his mouth a few inches away and touched his forehead to hers, “I love you,” [Y/n] felt the fireworks in her chest leap forth.

“I love you Haymitch,” [Y/n] threw her arms around his neck and resumed the kiss. She was noticeably more enthusiastic this time. Haymitch was much taller than her so when he stood all the way up, her feet came off the ground. When their lips parted for air, [Y/n] felt bold and breathed, “Haymitch, I need you,”

Haymitch set her on her feet and stroked his hands down her sides and around to her back. He pulled the small zipper down and let his fingers lightly trail down her spine before allowing the silky dress to slip down her soft curves with ease. His eyes rested on her breasts as a deep breath caught in his chest. [Y/n] slowly pushed Haymitch backwards until he fell onto the bed. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked into [Y/n]s deep brown eyes. As she gazed down at him, she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, tossing it aside. Haymitch’s eyes widened, his reaction was like he had never seen her body before.He noticed her underwear were made of black lace and cut into a V shape that was hardly there. Haymitch’s breathing faltered as [Y/n] approached him. Unzipping his trousers, she helped him shimmy them lower with his briefs, and allowed him to spring up at attention.

“Well someone is ready to go,” she smiled devilishly.

[Y/n] crawled up the end of the bed and up over Haymitch until she was hovering above him, nose to nose. Haymitch reached up and ran his fingers into her hair, pulling her face towards his and kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss and lowered her hips to lightly grind on Haymitch. He released a deep chesty groan before sitting up and whispering into her mouth, “Damn sweetheart, I wanna fuck you again!”

[Y/n] smiled and bit her lip, “Then do it already!”

Haymitch chuckled lightly before getting up on his knees and roughly flipping [Y/n] onto her stomach, “Is this what you want?” He blew into her ear as he pinned her down by her wrists.

“Yes,” [Y/n] wiggled her rear and felt Haymitch stiffen as he moaned lightly.

Unexpectedly, Haymitch let go and [Y/n] felt the bed move as he leaned away from her. She turned around and gave him a confused look.

He furrowed his brow as he stood up and pulled his briefs back on, “What’re we doin’ Sweetheart?”

[Y/n] hadn’t been this confused in a long time, “Wha-?”

“I mean this is great- you’re amazing- but what is this?” He asked.

“What are you talking about? Not five minutes ago you said you loved me!”

“Which makes sense; you’re beautiful, smart, cunning, fiery, and you put up with me. But you loving me? That makes no sense; I’m a miserable, old drunk who took advantage of a girl who I have more than a decade on!”

“Haymitch… when you’re not absolutely hammered, you’re also smart and cunning… and you’ve always put up with me. We’ve known each other for 13 years. You might be older than I am, but we didn’t start here- I honestly hated you when we first met,” she got off the bed and walked over to him, placing her hand gently on his face, “But I’ve considered you a great friend for a very long time; and I’ve come to realize in the last few years that you’re the one person in Panem who has ever cared for me in the last 13 years- and I love you,”

Haymitch wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, “Well, I’m sorry I made you love me,” he said with a hint of amusement.

She pulled back in disbelief, “Haymitch, I just poured my heart out!”

“And I’m not good with the lovey stuff; but I can say I love you too,” They stood locked in their embrace for a moment before Haymitch whispered, “Would you be mad if we finished this another night?”

“Absolutely not,” her smile disappeared, “Are we making this into something?”

“Thirteen years seems good enough… you want a title Sweetheart?”

“If we’re gonna sleep together more, I’d like to get rid of any speculation that could imply ‘desperate whore’ in my Victor description,”

Haymitch threw his head back and laughed, “Well I guess you’re gonna be my girlfriend wether the Capitol likes it or not,”

“Wether anyone likes it or not,” she kissed his jaw, “Get some sleep, you need to be a mentor tomorrow,”

Haymitch shook his head as he tossed her a robe, “Get outta here Sweetheart,”

She chuckled lightly as she put on the robe and gathered her things, “Are we crazy?”

“Crazy?” he questioned, “Maybe a little nuts. I’m a drunk. You don’t trust anyone. But I don’t think we’re crazy,” He walked over and hugged her again, lingering a little longer that time.

Masterlist

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #hunger games fanfic #thg haymitch #haymitch x OC #the hunger games au

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twirlingsmilingwriting · 11 months ago

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Hunger Games Characters as Taylor Swift songs PART 2!!

I know these aren't popular like the fan fiction on my account but I love mixing my music and intrests so ima do a PART TWO

Johanna Mason

Mad Woman- Taylor Swift, Folklore

"Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will"

Honestly, it's so hard to find just one lyric in this song that I felt like truly highlights her because the whole song is literally her. Especially the last verse. Like "'Cause you took everything from me, Watchin' you climb, Watchin' you climb Over people like me The master of spin Has a couple side flings Good wives always know She should be mad Should be scathing like me" THAT JUST FEELS SO MUCH LIKE HOW SHE VIEWS SNOW. He took everything from her and she was just sitting back ready to take him and the rest of the capital down with it. Also, I love her.

Katniss Everdeen

Eyes Open- Taylor Swift, Red

"In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords. But now we've stepped into a cruel world. Where everybody stands and keeps score"

OKAY ADMITTEDLY THIS IS A SELL OUT BECAUSE THIS SONG WAS ON THE HUNGER GAMES OTHER SOUND TRACK BUT, it is quite literally her song. Side note but this song is so sad but sounds so happy. I love when Ms. Swift does songs like this. But yeah from the first verse describing how they were just kids then one day got thrown into the cruel and harsh world of the hunger games. Also the part talking about "they never thought you'd make it this far" makes so much sense because the girl from district 12 is always seen as the runt of the picks, the one who isn't supposed to win, BUT SHE DID!! Honestly, if yall can think of another song that fits her character please let me know. I have some honorable mentions

A Place in This World- Debut: honestly, I think this song really describes her thought process going into the hunger games. She was just trying to survive and keep her family safe. Even when she was thrown into being the head figure of the Revolution, she never wanted that position, she just got thrown into it. She was just walking along the path set for her. Even the line "maybe I'm just a girl on a mission but I'm ready to fly" makes sense to me because she IS the mocking jay.

Only Me When I'm With You- Debut: So Peniss coded (Peeta X Katniss)

I Know Places- 1989: Also Peniss coded

I Did Something Bad- Reputation: Killing president coin, pushing forth with the revolution,

Sujanus Plinth

Only The Young- Taylor Swift, Miss Americana

"You did all that you could do, the game was rigged, the ref got tricked, the wrong ones think they're right. You were outnumbered, this time"

Honestly, the whole thing reminds me of his reaction to the games. Also the whole song is about how only the young can change the future and Sujanus's character really showed that spirit. He was trying to make a change but unfortunately, he trusted the whole people and the odds were stacked against him.

Haymitch Abernathy

Champagne Problems- Taylor Swift, Evermore

""This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

He has em. Simple as that. (alcoholism)

Seriously though this song reminds me of him more so because of the concept of it. Champagne problems is a term used to describe issues that seem rather trivial, unimportant, and I feel like a lot people tend to disregard all the genuine things Haymitch had gone through. The story of the song also is about a marriage that never happened, it also has undertones of lost family and friends. As we know, Haymitch lost his girlfriend and family to the capital. He never got to marry her because she was taken from him.

Lucy Gray

My Tears Ricochet- Taylor Swift, Folklore

"And I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. And when you can't sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies"

LETS BE HONEST, SHE IS SO FOLK-EVERMORE CODED. I could dissect this song for ages explaining why it's the perfect example of what Lucy Gray would be saying indirectly to Snow. Firstly,

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day"

CUZ NO SHE DID NOT DESERVE WHAT SNOW PUT HER THROUGH. She loved him truly, deeply, but when it came down to it, she knew she could never trust him. Especially with the position he put her in. She could go anywhere she wants but not home after Snow made it seem like she killed the mayors daughter. And then the part

"I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet"

She didn't go with grace. She left in a flash, deep with mystery. She has to hide for the rest of her life while he gets to be the proud hero and savior to Panem. The second half of the main chorus is so true to how Coryo was acting when they were in the forest in that last scene. He was quite literally cursing her name, wishing she'd stayed.

"You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me"

JEWELS? HER EARRING??? HELLOOOOOOOO and then the "as you bury me" HE DOESN'T KNOW IF SHE DEAD OR NOT BUT IF SHE IS, HE KILLED HER. HE BURRED HER AND TOOK HER EARRING.

"But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)"

She had such a hold on him, he still remembers her years later, haunted by her memory. the song constantly references the "Haunting". The "I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky" reminded me of the way the mocking jays carried her voice all around the sky. And the last line was so clearly connecting to 'The Hanging Tree' in my brain. Many years later, Katniss sang the same song she did to lead a rebellion against him. His life is haunted by her memories and cursed by it. He can't escape her anywhere.

The tears he made her spill simply ricocheted into bullets that hit him instead.

Effie Trinket

Bejeweled- Taylor Swift, Midnights

"Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room,I can still make the whole place shimmer"

MS. EFFIE TRINKET IS THE BADDEST BITCH BRO OMG I LOVEEEEE HER. STYLE ICON. Listen, no matter what happens to that woman, shes gonna shine. A diamonds gotta SHINE. She is always the most sparkly, eye catching person out there at ALL TIMES! Even without all the glitz and glamour she is still so iconic. She is ALWAYS bejeweled.

#tbosas #the hunger games #taylor swift #song lyrics #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen #sejanus plinth #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #johanna mason #thg series #thg

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hungergameshyperfixation · 1 month ago

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Guys I promise I’m not trying to do a “quantity over quality” thing with my blog. I’m just so excited. Like I physically feel…

Spoilers below:

DID YALL READ THE BLURB.

“HAYMITCH ABERNATHY IS TRYING NOT TO THINK TOO HARD ABOUT HIS CHANCES. ALL HE CARES ABOUT IS MAKING IT THROUGH THE DAY AND BEING WITH THE GIRL HE LOVES.”

I have said this a million times before and I’ll say it a million times again, Haymitch Abernathy is a lover boy. I WAS SO ONTO SOMETHING WITH THE HAYMITCH AND PEETA PARALLELS ARE YOU KIDDING. Haymitch x his girl canon supremacy. NOW I FEEL AWFUL FOR NOT POSTING ALL MY HAYMITCH AND HIS GIRL WRITINGS. (they’re not like all fanfictions, maybe a couple unfinished drabbles but I meant more so all my various writings. BUT I NEVER SHARED THEM BECAUSE THEY WERE UNFINISHED/THE TIMING DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT).

Anyway you WILL be seeing an uptick in Haymitch x his girl posts because I am actually so crazy about them and they just fueled this ship SO MUCH MORE. I almost believe it can overtake Hayffie’s prominence in the fandom…👀

“When Haymitch’s name is called, he can feel all his dreams break. He’s torn from his family and his love, shuttled to the Capitol with the three other District 12 tributes: a young friend who’s nearly a sister to him, a compulsive oddsmaker, and the most stuck up girl in town.”

HELLO. Maysilee is likely the most stuck up girl in town. That’s my bet. As much as I hate to say it I think that’s going to be the angle—which is both a good and bad thing almost?? ALTHOUGH there is LITERALLY a 50/50 chance Maysilee is “a young friend who’s nearly a sister to him,” but I kinda doubt it? Unfortunately that has already basically squashed several headcanons and fanon ideas about Maysilee.

BUT ALSO??? We will get a compulsive oddsmaker… hmmm. I’m lowkey hoping (/worrying? Idk yet) that this character might be the new Snow or Sejanus thirst-post character. Unless they really do make him the most annoying character ever.

By the way I’m calling it now, SotR will spur so many Haymitch ships. Haymitch x this compulsive oddsmaker already seems to be creeping on the gay horizon. Which I hc Haymitch as bi/queer of some flavor, so I might not mind. But I do definitely hope more people appreciate the probable beauty of Haymitch and his girl. (Unless his girl turns out to be like….really awful or abusive or something 💀 pls Ms Collin’s don’t do that to me)

FINAL POINT: HAYMITCH ABERNATHY REBEL ICON. The start of the revolution.

#the hunger games #sunrise on the reaping #sotr #thg #quarter quell #sunrise on the reaping protagonist reveal #DONT LOOK AT THE REST OF THE TAGS THEY HAVE SPOILERS #haymitch abernathy #maysilee donner #SotR Haymitch #haymitch x maysilee #haymitch x his girl #50th hunger games #compulsive oddsmaker #the most stuck up girl in town

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senselessviolets · 6 months ago

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!! IMPORTANT !!

Hey! :)

My name’s Jen, I’m 21 yrs old, and a queer biPOC writer. I’m a part of a wide array of fandoms (all of which are listed under “keep reading”) but this blog will be centered around HBO’S SUCCESSION, HANNIBAL (NBC), GAME OF THRONES/ASOIAF/HOTD, and MISC. SCI-FI & HORROR. I’m also very much Profiction.

Disclaimer: this blog will occasionally feature elements/discussions of smut, various types of abuse, dub-con, non-con, and other difficult subjects. If you are sensitive to such content---proceed with caution or DNI.

/// !! MINORS DNI !! ///

MASTERLIST

My Asks are currently open for anything. One shot requests, X Reader requests, thoughts on _____, headcanons for ______, and so on.

“Keep Reading” for more info.

Types of fanfic I will write:

- Fluff

- Smut (18+)

- Headcanons (i.e ______ Would Include…)

- Songfic

- Dub-Con

- Non-Con

Types of fanfic I will NOT write:

- Underage

- Alternate Universes (i.e Real World AU, Coffee Shop AU)

[ Succesion. ]

CHARACTERS

Roman Roy

Siobhan “Shiv” Roy

Kendall Roy

Tom Wambsgans

Jeryd Mencken

Tabitha Hayes

SHIPS

Romencken

Rometabs

[ Hannibal. ]

CHARACTERS

Will Graham

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

Abigail Hobbs

Dr. Alana Bloom

Freddie Lounds

SHIPS

Hannigram

[ Game of Thrones/ASOIAF/HOTD. ]

CHARACTERS

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daenerys Targaryen

Brienne Of Tarth

Jon Snow

Yara Greyjoy

Sansa Stark

Margaery Tyrell

SHIPS

Rhaenicent

Sansaery

Danyara

[ The Boys/Gen V. ]

CHARACTERS

Hughie Campbell

Homelander

Billy Butcher

Annie January/Starlight

Marie Moreau

Jordan Li

SHIPS

HughieLight

Limoreau

[ The Hunger Games. ]

CHARACTERS

Peeta Mellark

Haymitch Abernathy

Young Coriolanus Snow

Finnick Odair

[ Star Wars. ]

CHARACTERS

Cassian Andor

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Han Solo

Leia Organa

Ahsoka Tano

Rey

Finn

SHIPS

HanLuke

Obidala

Finnrey

#about #rules & guidelines #byf #succession #succession hbo #roman roy #kendall roy #marvel #the boys tv #the boys amazon #billy butcher #homelander #Star Wars #andor #cassian andor #obi wan kenobi #x reader #fluff #smut

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hayffiebird · 7 months ago

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Taste of Strawberries, chap. 43 (part two)

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?

Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.

Author’s note: Happy Walpurgis Night, to those of you who celebrate! I hope you’ll get a great day with lots of hotdogs and bonfires and paper cups of coffee! I’m going out myself soon and it’s sunnny and 17 degrees Celsius! (That’s a lot this time of year when you live north of the wall = Sweden.)

Until then: here’s part two of chapter 43! If you enjoyed what you read please consider hitting the like button, reblog and maybe even comment! It may seem like it doesn’t make much difference – from a reader’s perspective – but it truly and absolutely means the WORLD to us starving fanfic writers. 😉❤️

Chapter 43, Between a rock and a hard place (part two)

“Her name’s Trinket. Euphemia ‘Effie’ Trinket. T-R-I-N-K-E-T.”

Haymitch stalked across the kitchen – back and forth, back and forth – with the cordless phone pressed into his ear. Cold sheets of rain poured down the windows, hammered off the roof. Hard and relentless.

“Her friend drove her to the emergency room”, he said. “Hours ago! No one’s gotten back to me!”

“I’m sorry. But this isn’t the ER, I’m afraid”, the voice said. Boy sounded too young to buy his own beer, let alone work in a hospital. “You’ve reached the reception.”

“Well, don’t you have a computer or something?” he barked. “Just look her up, how hard can it be! Her name’s …”

“I know. But it doesn’t work like that …”

“Give ‘em a ring then, what’s the damn problem?!” His anger was inking all over, not helping his case (like: at all) but he couldn’t help it. “Find out if she’s seen a doctor at least or if she’s still waiting. Woman’s got a white and pink dress on. Checkered, like a picnic rug. Can’t miss her.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed t…”

“Oh, come on! Just help me out here! Do I have to get down on my knees and beg?”

“… You’re not the husband …”

“I’m as good as. I mean …”, he added when he realized what he let slip. He rubbed a tired hand across his forehead, shoulders sagging. Effie’s silk hair ribbon that he still clutched between his fingers brushed against his clammy skin.

“She’s my children’s mother, OK. I wanted to go with her but she told me to stay put. Look after them, while she … Please, I need to know if she’s OK. If you had a wife, you’d understand.”

A long time passed.

“One phone call”, Haymitch pleaded. “Just to see if she’s still in the waiting room. Or her friend. Annabel. Tall. Brown hair. Looks like Caesar Flickerman. Ask her to get back to me as soon as she can.”

“ … Oh, alright. One moment.”

And he was left with that awful elevator music.

But at least, things were moving forward. Which was more than you could say about the last couple of hours.

After what felt like two life sentences served back to back, a click snuffed one particularly sweltering note and the man said,

“OK. From what I’ve discovered, Mr. Abernathy, your … your … Effie, she’s been called in for a cranial CT-scan.”

The words twisted Haymitch’s insides.

“Cranial? So … like the brain?”

“Yes. X-ray pictures. To look for things like an aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke. Not, not that there has to be any”, the man added quickly. “They just need to rule out any serious and potentially fatal conditions first. Find the root cause and tailor a treatment. She’s probably totally completely fine! And her friend … Annalee? Anna Bella? … she’s with the patient. I told them to pass on your message when they see her. And that’s all I can do for you right now, I’m afraid”, he said, almost guiltily.

Haymitch nodded.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

He ended the call. Sunk into a chair, phone next to him on the table.

Aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke.

Images of a Games flashed in his mind. The year the Gamemakers released that blood wave. An avalanche down the mountains, only red, and it swallowed up everything in its wake. Everything and everyone.

She’s strong, Annabel’s words echoed in his head. Stronger than most. But she’s not made out of titanium. Don’t break her.

Had he gone and done that now? Bent her every which way until she snapped right in half?

Elbows on his thighs, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Twisted the soft pink hair ribbon between his fingers. Welcomed the searing pain. Like Katniss and Finnick with their lengths of rope back in Thirteen. Only, they weren’t at fault for the things happening.

Aneurysm, hemorrhage or stroke.

From the baby monitor inside his pocket came a quiet whimper. Not a cry. Just one of those soft baby snuffles they used to make when they were sleeping. Sleeping and dreaming their little dreams, unaware of the fact that their whole life might change tonight.

Not her. Please not her too!

His loving, kind, good-hearted Effs. His sweetheart. His lighthouse. If she died, everything would be over. Everything would fall apart. Once and for all.

Their fractured, patched up little family would be nothing but ashes and ruins. And his poor, innocent, motherless children … they’d be taken away from him to live with someone else. Katniss and Peeta. Or Sae or Hazelle. If he was lucky.

Effie. Who laughed with Sae at the Hob and made shadow animals on the wall for her granddaughter. Who brought tea with honey and lemon when Katniss had that nasty flu. Who always helped Peeta out at the bakery without him having to ask. Effie, who kissed her children goodnight every day after reading them their favorite stories.

No! The thought rung out so loud and clear he could almost hear it. He shoved the images off his mind, like a suffocating blanket. She’s not dead yet! She’s not!

Outside, the rain kept pouring. The grandfather clock ticked the hours by – minute by agonizing minute. And from above: the occasional creak of footfalls. Haymitch wasn’t the only one awake; not the only one who worried.

But June, she’d hardly come out of her room all night. Couldn’t stand the sight of him, no doubt. Not after the way he treated his family. The stress he inflicted on everyone in this house.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

A round moon struggled to clear through the massive, dark clouds. No stars. No nothing.

Tick-tock.

When the phone finally rang, Haymitch almost jumped out of his own skin. He hit reply not a second signal later.

“Hello?” he blurted. “Hello? Effie?”

“No, it’s me.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed. “Hi Annabel. How she doin’? Any news on her?”

“She’s OK. She’s resting now. Sorry I didn’t call before. I didn’t want to leave her side.”

“No, no. Course not.” He swallowed against the dryness of his mouth. Ran his tongue over his cracked lips. Tasted blood. “They’ve examined her, yeah?”

“Yes. It was a primary thunderclap headache.”

Her words turned him cold with dread. Thunderclap? What in God’s name was that? His feelings must have shown through his silence for she added quickly,

“Don’t worry. Sounds worse than it is. She was really lucky. Primary headaches are painful but harmless. No underlying medical condition. They kept her here as long as they did because they wanted to rule out secondary causes and health issues. There aren’t any. They think it was simply brought on by extreme stress combined with the exertion of running like she did.”

“So … she’s …” Haymitch struggled to keep his voice steady. “She’s gonna be OK then?”

Behind him came the telltale creak of the stairs and he knew without looking that June listened from the door.

“They’ve treated her with NSAID”, Annabel replied. “That’s a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug, to reduce swelling. She needs to take it easy for the next couple of days, less stress, but they see no reason why she couldn’t come home tonight. They’re keeping her here a little while longer though. For observation. She had a spinal tap so she’s not to move for an hour at least.”

“Can I see her?” His voice sounded so meek and pathetic. Heart-broken. The voice of someone who knew he had no right to ask what he was asking. “M-maybe you can look after the twins, just for a little while, and I’ll find my way into town.”

“Hey …”

The sound made him look up. June pushed herself off the door frame. Her voice not as sharp, her face less hard when she held a hand out. He passed her the phone.

“Hi … yeah”, she spoke into the receiver. “Yeah, I can stay.” She listened to something her wife said. “Right. OK. Bye.” She ended the call, eyes on Haymitch. “Bel will come get you. Effie wants to see you too.”

xXx

Why were hospitals always so cold? Haymitch lumbered after the nurse. Followed her through endless corridors.

Muted paintings on the walls. Fake green plants on the tables. All illuminated by the fluorescent light that he’d forever associate with pain and fear and heartache.

At least he was allowed in. Had this been the Capitol, the visiting hours would be long over.

They stopped in front of a door like all the others.

“Last bed on the right”, the nurse pointed and was already off.

Haymitch pushed inside.

The lights were down-low. Six beds facing opposite each other. Some of the cubicle curtains pulled shut for privacy. Soft snores. Rustle of sheets.

He treaded carefully, so as not to disturb any of the patients. Effie’s curtains were pulled only halfway, letting the scarce moonlight in.

She lay on top of the covers, reflected by the rain pouring down the glass. Dressed in a hospital gown. Eyes closed.

His heart ached when he watched her red, swollen face. Even in this dim light he could tell she’d been crying. Crying hard.

But her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths – so different from hours before. It occurred to him that maybe they’d offered her some kind of tranquilizer.

Throat thick with regret he just wanted to take her in his arms. Hold her close and never let go.

But what right did he have? None. Less than none. And even if she’d let him, he didn’t dare. Not after what happened in the kitchen.

Instead, he took a seat by her bedside. Quiet as a mouse. Didn’t want to wake her.

No such luck. A slight creak of wood against linoleum and she stirred. Opened her eyes, heavy-lidded, groggy as she struggled and focused on him.

“Haymitch?”

“Hey, sweetheart, hi”, he said, hand against the edge of the mattress.

Her eyes fell closed but she forced them open.

“The twins …”

“They’re OK. Sleeping like … well, like babies. June’s watching over them while I’m here.”

“And you got them to bed on time?” she mumbled.

“Yeah.”

“Brushed their teeth? Changed their nappies? Read to them?”

“I did.”

“Ian can’t sleep without his binky …”

“I know, sweetheart. Just … try and relax a little bit, OK?”

Effie drew a soft sigh. Exhausted but comforted by his words. For now at least.

He made a vague gesture toward her face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. They gave me some painkillers. I told them I need to get back to my babies but they say I can’t leave this bed yet. They … they shoved a needle in my spine.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m so sorry.”

I’m sorry. How many times could he say that in the span of 24 hours?

Effie met his gaze – beautiful blue eyes, tired and shiny with the threat of fresh tears.

”I can’t do this anymore.”

There it was. The words he’d been waiting for this whole time.

A small choked sound come from his throat just the same but he nodded, head sunk low.

“I know.”

Things will be better, he wanted to say.I’ll do better. When you get out of here I’ll turn things around, one way or another. We’ll go home, back to Twelve, and I’ll never let you down again. Cause as long as we’re together nothing else matters.

But who was he to tell her those rose-tinted lies? That’s all it really was. Effie knew better than anyone that his promises weren’t worth shit.

“When are you leaving?” he mumbled, eyes on his shaky hands.

“The day after tomorrow.” The raw pain already etched on her face spilt over into each and every one of her words. “After I’ve had my final check-up. I already told Annabel. She wanted us to stay the week but … I just can’t go on like this. I need a break from … I need some time to think. On my own. And you … you can come visit them. The solution we discussed when they were born.”

She drew a trembling breath. Swallowed her tears when she said,

“You weren’t wrong before. When you said you didn’t hurt them. You didn’t. This time. But one day you will and I can’t let you do that. Doesn’t matter what happens to me but I cannot let you hurt Amy and Ian. If you’re going to be drunk it’ll be on your own time. Not in front of our children. Never again. You’ll see them sober. Or not at all.”

Author’s note: And we’re reaching the end of Hayffie’s time in Eleven – for now at least. What did you think?

Every fic I’ve ever read where Haymitch and Effie goes on vacation they always go to District 4. “My” Hayffie did too – in the first draft of ToS – but then I felt I wanted to try something a little different and wasn’t there ANY other district they could go to? And Eleven fit surprisingly well.

So, back around New Years of 2015 I simply plucked June and Annabel’s villa overlooking the sea and re-planted it among the orchards of Chaff’s, Rue’s and Tresh’s home district instead. Hope you liked it!

Oh, and what did you think about Haymitch’s little Freudian slip? Haha! Makes you think of that Daniel Bedingfield song (“If you’re not the one”) doesn’t it? “If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?”

#hayffie #haymitch x effie #the hunger games renaissance #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #my fanfiction #post-mockingjay #district 11

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sparrowandbee · 10 months ago

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Young Haymitch x O.C. childhood sweetheart: Calla Lily and The Magpies

Hello, lovelies!! I just want to thank you all for the advice and love on my writer's block post, it means a lot! I decided to take a tiny step back from The Sparrow and look into a different angle- Haymitch's childhood sweetheart. This was written in a day and I had a blast, but please excuse any oversights on my part.

Synopsis: Based on 'One for sorrow'/Magpie nursery rhyme. A fluffy morning in the life of 16-year-old Calla Levens and Haymitch Abernathy.

Warnings: Mention of death and illness.

Word Count: 2395

----

He’s playing with my hair as I fight my return to consciousness after a night I wish could have lasted forever.

Through my closed, still half-asleep eyes, I feel the warmth of his body next to mine. I run my foot through his sturdy leg under the blanket, feeling the coarse texture of his hairs and the taut muscles beneath my toes.

Our limbs tangle with each other, sharing the small area of my white-lined bed. Not really for warmth, (we’re perfectly cocooned under two knit blankets), but mostly for the lingering need to never let go- the inescapable magnetism of our arms and legs and lips. We convince ourselves that if we get close enough, we’ll just grow around one another and stay like this forever. Just him and I in the perfect little bubble of bliss.

His fingers persist, tousling the strands of hair that came undone from my braid. My eyes flutter open, expecting to find my sweetheart’s grey eyes looking back at mine.

Instead, I’m met by Haymitch’s tanned, bare back through the curtain of blonde hair falling in my face.

Reality hits me like the cold breeze streaming through the wide-open window.

The November wind blows right inside from the wooden window frame next to me, my thin lace curtain dancing to its ununiform motion, swung open as if I were gleefully inviting the frost inside.

The magpies are harmonising by the old tree, their raspy calls filling in the mostly empty room along with the lazy dawn sunlight.

The very calls which I am sure will soon wake Aunt Kerria up, setting a chilly stage for her yelling at me for letting the cold air inside and then proceeding to kill me for having a boy on my bed. A boy from the Seam, at that.

I sit up swiftly, careful not to wake Haymitch up or cause a stir that would call my short-tempered aunt’s attention.

The rusting and tweeting are interrupted by my mom's cough.

Though her room is on the other side of the house, it sounds as though she's right next to me. It’s an ugly, wet noise that makes me flinch as I reach for the window’s cold knob.

My outstretched hand, it seems, invites two magpies to the windowsill.

One for sorrow, two for joy.

The two concepts which exist so harmoniously in the microcosm that is my home: Before it was the warmth of my mother's singing and dancing in the face of the death and sickness which visited her daily.

Now it's the sorrow of her deterioration in the room next door while I stare at the gentle, strong breathing of the boy that has my heart.

Sorrow and joy just two doors apart.

I shoo the birds off and shut the window, breathing in the last of the fresh air as the eternal herbiness of the house reclaims its hold- the curse of living above the apothecary.

The two magpies flit around the tree, the iridescent details on their sleek wings and tails shining against the morning light.

Another cough, this one more phlegm-y. I flinch and swallow my guilt at the carelessness of the open window. There are two closed doors between us, it probably had nothing to do with the outside air… but I can’t help the tightness in my chest as I hear the door open in the hallway. Aunt Kerria is up and tending to her already.

The rusty springs of my bed creak as Haymitch turns, still fast asleep, his dark curls falling over his closed eyes. I sit back next to him and I stare at him, without an ounce of self-consciousness at the act. He’s like a painting in the Justice Building- so beautiful, so lifelike, but untouchable. Too good to be true.

Like a naughty child, I run my slim pale fingers over his sharp features, keeping my touch as soft as a butterfly’s on the slightly humped bridge of his nose, the sharp curve of his jaw. I felt each pore as I traced along, each tiny hair, convincing myself that he was real and right there next to me.

Three for a girl, four for a boy.

I hope one day we won’t have to hide away.

I promise myself that when my mom gets better I’ll tell her all about Haymitch and I’ll stop caring so much about what people here will think of him.

I know she’ll see how much I love him. That will be enough for her to accept him, just like Mrs. Abernathy did with me. And it’ll all be perfect. We’ll be a family, all of us.

A girl and a boy and the people we love.

I moved up to his cheek and his mouth curved up to a soft, sleepy smile. I fight the urge to lie back down and do nothing but pepper him with kisses.

“Calla!” My aunt’s shrill voice calls from down the hallway.

Poor Haymitch’s eyes dart open and he sits up, holding the blanket over his naked chest. His widened eyes meet mine in horror. I try not to giggle at the terrified expression.

“Yes?” I call back, still perched on the bed, aware of the invisible divide between my room and my Mom’s. It was better for everyone to stay as far apart as possible.

I braced myself for a long-distance chiding about the open window.

“Mrs. Blanch will be coming soon to pick up an order; I’m going to need you to help her, okay?”

I can’t disguise my relief as I breathe out, “Oh, alright.”

The irony isn’t lost on me that the most sought-after healer in the district can’t work anymore because of illness. A pulmonary thing whose name I don’t remember and Aunt Kerria doesn’t have the time or patience to explain to me. What once was a reliable, organised establishment has turned into a cluttered mess of bottles and receipts in the hands of my short-tempered aunt.

“Brilla’s having the baby soon, so it’s important. It’s in the brown bag on the blue shelf, you can’t miss it.”

I was well aware of how ridiculous it was to start my day yelling at a closed door, but this has been my life for the past month as Mom’s condition got worse.

“Okay, I’ll get ready soon,” I playfully roll my eyes and look at Haymitch, who is still covering himself but looking less petrified.

“No. Not soon, Calla, now! And stop leaving the window open!”

Aunt Kerria’s authoritative tone echoes in the room. Now that sounded more like her.

Mom coughs again, as if to scold us both.

“Alright!”

Of course, she doesn’t suspect anything about Haymitch. With so much on her hands, she barely notices when she has to change her own clothes.

Standing, I take a few steps towards the slim makeshift closet which stands next to the closed brown door of my room. I absentmindedly pick out a long-sleeve cream blouse, a blue knit sweater, and a thick pink skirt from the rusted silver clothing rack- my outfit of choice in the crisp weather.

I put it on noncommitedly, knowing that the boy on my bed is the only person on earth I wouldn’t mind seeing me naked. He hasn’t yet, not completely, but I know it won’t be awkward when we’re ready.

I tuck my blouse in and turn around to find his smiling eyes looking right into mine.

“You’re beautiful,” he mouths from the bed, careful not to make his presence known outside the room.

I smile, always flustered at his compliments and sweet words, not ever quite sure how to reciprocate them.

I tuck the loose blonde flyaways behind my ears as I give myself a quick glance in the mirror before leaning over to kiss him on the nose.

“Do you think you can jump out the window?”

He laughs but I’m not kidding.

“Seriously. Mrs. Blithe can’t see you. And you have to go home.”

“No, I don’t have to,” he whispers back through his full-tooted smile, his grey eyes looking up at me with a puppy dog’s devotion, almost as blue as mine in the sunlight.

We both know it isn't true, but we also both know we’d rather be in the sunny freedom of his house than tucked away on the second floor of mine. But it’s sweet that he pretends.

“Get ready to jump, Mitchy,” I tease, knowing he hates the nickname I took from his mom.

“If you call me that again, I just might.”

One last peck on his mouth and I loudly open and shut the door, making sure Aunt Kerria can hear my descending footsteps.

Calla closes the door behind her with a sharp thud. Now it’s just me and the shrieking of the magpies.

And her mother’s cough, a string of them now- ugly and persistent. A cough you’d hear by the road in the Seam and stay away from, knowing someone would have to haul away a cold body soon.

I’d heard it before, everyone in the Seam had and knew what it meant.

Only those sounds didn’t reach the merchants; they didn’t reach Calla.

But I couldn’t tell her that… by the sound of it, she’d find out soon enough.

It shattered my heart, but I would be there to protect her. To hold her and wipe her tears as she had when my grandpa Cez died a few months ago.

I found my shirt through the mess of blankets and sheets and buttoned it up. If Aunt Kerria was to find me, at least I’d be clothed.

The shirt was blue, but nothing like the bright colours hanging from the clothes rack off to the side of the bedroom. It was strange to be in a place with such abundance. Enough clothes to wear a new outfit each day of the week, two blankets to a single bed, a moderately stocked pantry- It’s far from a moral judgement against Calla, just an observation of the divide. Her clean white blouses compared to my wrinkled, too-big shirt that I am unsure how many men have worn before me.

All these things are reminders of the life I would never be able to provide for her.

Five for silver, six for gold.

I’ve just started saving up to get her a ring. We’ll be eighteen in three years, which might seem like a long time, but no matter how many odd jobs I pick up between school and sports, I’ll barely be able to buy her one of those bands they occasionally smuggle in from District 1.

I don’t want her to sacrifice her upholstered armchair or box of yarns or sketchbooks for me.

So what if I have to take on more babysitting jobs or work extra hours at the short-staffed stalls of the Hobb for the rest of my life?

All my grandiose dreams faded when I first heard her laugh and saw the way her hair shined preciously against last year’s August sunlight.

My only dream now is to make her the happiest woman on earth.

I know she’d scold me for my lack of ambition, so I wouldn’t tell her, but I'd work harder nonetheless. I told her I wanted to be a teacher, a dream I'd never confided in anyone before. And it was true, but I don't even know how it could happen... and I'd rather work in the mines my whole life if I meant I could provide for her and my family. Scrap the dreams- all I want is to lead a completely unremarkable life with her by my side. Looking into those blue eyes every morning is gold enough for me.

I fold the blankets and leave them neatly at the foot of her bed, though I doubt she’ll be sleeping here tonight. My mom’s probably bargaining at the bakery for an extra loaf, knowing Calla will spend the better part of the weekend with us. I wouldn’t tell her that either, of course. I won’t make her feel guilty about something she can’t control.

I just wish we lived outside of all of it- money, class, expectations. But we don’t, so down the window I go.

It’ll all be gone soon, I think as I wave Mrs. Blithe away, with an extra sprig of dried stinging nettles for good luck in the delivery.

When Mom and Aunt Kerria can’t run the shop anymore I’ll sell it to the highest bidder and it’ll be a good riddance. I could never look death in the eyes like they do.

Haymitch and I will live in the Seam, and add an extra room or two to his house with the money from the apothecary. I’ll help Mrs. Abernathy with all the mending and the cobbling and the cooking she does to support her family and Haymitch will be the best teacher the district has ever seen. We’ll have two or three kids and I can’t wait to see him play with them like he does with his brother. His grey eyes and my blonde hair or my blue eyes and his brown curls- perfect regardless.

I’m so caught up in my daydream, staring at the twisty, veiny trees through the large storefront windows that I nearly scream when Haymitch lands the jump onto the uneven grey pavement.

He catches my incredulous stare and gives me a thumbs-up from outside.

“I’m going to Thisbe’s!” I call upstairs, knowing that Aunt Kerria prefers I spend the weekends away. She doesn’t really care where, as long as it’s not home.

Plus, we can’t get any further than Haymitch’s, so I’m sure she’d be pleased with the truth… or so I tell myself.

“Alright. You can sleep over there if you want, but be back by Monday.”

“Thanks, Aunt Kerria. Bye!”

I lift the old wood top of the counter and make sure the cash register’s locked before I meet Haymitch outside. He’s bouncing up and down, the wind blowing his dark curls away from his face, an adorable subtle blush growing on his nose and cheeks.

“Sorry to leave you waiting, I didn’t realize how cold it is,” I take both of his nearly frozen hands in mine and lean in close, my head resting on his shoulder.

“Come on, Calla Lily. Let’s go home.”

We don’t talk as we rush through the empty morning streets of the merchant section- as the haphazard pavement turns into haphazard stone and then dirt. Being next to him is enough, no matter where we tread.

There’s so much I want to tell him. So much I know he wants to tell me too. But for now, we’re just sixteen and in love, and we have our whole lives to talk until there are no secrets left.

Seven for a secret, never to be told.

We walk home, intertwined, taking our sweet time.

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