the only person i truly want to comfort me is haymitch


Dr. Aurelius once asked me what made a home.

I didn’t understand the question. And quite frankly, at the time I didn’t really care about what it meant.

He had a reason for asking, early on in my initial healing process. Before the parachute bombs. Before the Star Squad. While I still thought Katniss was a mutt, he was at my bed, asking me what I thought made a home. But the idea of home would always send me reeling. Always to the hate forced into my heart by the Capitol.

Always to blaming her.

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Storm the World with Reckless Abandon

Snippet #2

Nobody really knew the exact reason why they were here.

Tapping the table with his neatly clipped fingernails, Finnick glanced around the table to the other victors who all looked whether bored, impatient, or nervous out of their minds on why they were called.

The fact it was the president who called them only skyrocketed the tension that suffocated the room.

To be honest, he was just relieved that the call had interrupted the ‘activities’ he had been enforced to take, whole body still aching and feeling violated over what the Capital demanded of him.

Closing his eyes, he stomped down the well of self-loathing and memories that arose at the thought of what his job entailed, and thought back instead to the situation that Panem was currently dealing with at the moment. Personally, Finnick thought everyone was acting like headless chickens who had no clue on how to handle the bombshell handed to them, which was incredibly amusing. Not that he could really blame them however.

He had been ‘entertaining’ a pair of twins when all of Panem’s television sets suddenly turned on for a special message from President Snow.

The very fact Snow was notifying all of Panem of some occurrence had made Finnick inwardly tense while he carefully stayed relaxed and loose in both of the women’s giggling arms.

And what Snow said next shocked the nation as whole.

Pandemonium exploded.

An outsider. Someone outside of Panem had just stumbled into District 12 before being apprehended and immediately sent to the Capital, probably to be interrogated over how exactly his very existence was even possible. Everyone knew the war had damaged the earth in a world-wide scale, to the point some places were simply inhabitable or too dangerous to risk exploring.

This solid fact wasn’t even one of Panem’s many games or lies. After all, nothing in nearly a hundred years has ever come from outside the borders of Panem. And at the beginning, people who had been banished to the outside world was confirmed to be dead by real footages that even the tributes knew weren’t fake after long-time experience in distinguishing what was real or not on camera.

Finnick had leaned in, watching the piece of film that was showing on screen of the outsider’s capture with interest, and felt his heart plummet down to the bottom of the ocean when he finally got a clear view of the mysterious figure’s face.

A teenager. It was a fucking teenager.

Worse, he was the prime age of people who got reaped, people who Snow loved to pick on.

And even from the barely minutes clip that was shown to the public, Finnick could already distinguish the square shoulders, the defiant chin and straight back that practically screamed at the world to challenge him. Strength radiated off of him in spectacular waves.

Strength that Snow would have much pleasure in shattering into pieces.

Already, Finnick knew without doubt that Snow was going to use the kid, create an intricate plan that’ll crush whatever rising hope the Districts will roar with and make an example out of this outsider.

As for how, well, that has yet to be revealed.

Ten minutes of silence passed before someone finally came into the room. Everyone straightened immediately when shockingly, President Snow himself entered in, a genial cold smile fixated on his bearded face. His very presence demanded attention, his appearance deceptively frail though the razor shop cruelty in his eyes negated the image.

“I’m glad all of you can make it.” He said, as if they had a choice in the matter. Finnick saw Johanna gnash her teeth together at the sentence and worried she might try something. The death of her family was still fresh from last year and Finnick, who had gotten close to her enough to see through her vicious demeanor, saw a flicker of fear mixed with potent hatred in her glinting eyes.

“Well, we didn’t really have anything better to do.” Haymitch suddenly drawled out, swirling a cup of whiskey lazily. His eyes were sharp though, landing on Johanna for only a second before proceeding to grin drunkenly.

Finnick immediately got where Haymitch was going with this and resisted the urge to shut his eyes and sigh. Driving Snow’s displeasure toward a much less volatile target who actually knew which buttons to push was better than the mess known as Johanna Mason.

Sometimes, Finnick hated Haymitch for always trying to take the blame. It made him feel more indebted to him than he already was.

Snow’s eyes narrowed minutely, which practically screamed how truly irritated he was by the drunk man, but he simply nodded and kept talking, much to the room’s collective relief.

“As you are all aware, we have a guest currently residing in the Capital.” The president declared. Johanna looked close to snorting at the word ‘guest’ and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. More like prisoner.

Snow planted his hands on the table imperiously, coming in between Cashmere and Gloss. Both discreetly inched away, not wanting to get anywhere near the man who literally made their lives hell.

“Unfortunately, the boy,” some of the more younger tributes couldn’t help but flinch at the reminder. “cannot stay in the Capital. Showing such favoritism to a person not even from Panem would be… unfair, don’t you agree?” He questioned with a light note, eyes hard. “Though we don’t want to show we’re inhospitable, now do we?”

No one answered, which was an answer in itself. Their response made the old man smile.

It was terrifying.

Finnick understood where Snow came from. There was the slim chance that the Capital might get attached or too curious for their own good with this new novelty in the shape of a person. It would be more difficult to get rid of the outsider under such close scrutiny and attention if his usefulness finally depleted itself. And putting a complete unknown in the heart of Panem was just asking for chaos to happen.

Putting him in a district where Snow could keep an eye on him however…

Suddenly, Finnick knew exactly what Snow was going to ask.

And right on cue, Snow said, “Which is why I would like to ask one of you to take him in.”

Stunned silence greeted the suggestion, everyone completely blanking out on what to say.

“What?” Johanna typically broke the ice, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of her like molten lava. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What she means is,” Beetee quickly butts in, seeing the rising danger Johanna was causing. “Why particularly the victors? Why not other more suitable citizens?”

Snow smiles with all his teeth and it sends a shiver down Finnick’s spine. He swore he could smell the blood that was constantly under Snow’s breathe even from across the table.

“Why? Exempting the Capital itself, all of you are the richest and most comfortably living people in all of Panem. It would be a great honor for anyone to be under your wing.”

There was a look in Snow’s eyes that said he was about to make the finishing blow and Finnick was wary of it.

He was proven right.

“And anyone who is willing to take him in, will not have to come to the Capital in the foreseeable future as long as he remains a guest for as long as I allow it.”

The reactions were immediate.

Johanna practically leaped off her chair to stand with wide, shining eyes and a look of fierce resolve painted Cashmere’s face. They looked more fired up than they probably did in the games, and that was alarmingly dangerous.

Finnick knew, at the back of his mind, that Snow was clearly manipulating them, making them feel rare want so he could decimate it in the near future and break them even further.

Despite himself though, Finnick felt a swell of desperate hopefulness grow inside his chest, nearly choking him in its potency. Hazily, he could see the rest of the tributes stiffen as the full realization of what this meant hit them fully.

No more prostitution. No more having to force themselves to smile in front of people who they loathe, monsters in human skin cheering at their shining tributes who can do no wrong. No more having to directly face the fame they hated, fame that tore apart their old lives and killed off their friends and family.

Just a moment of reprieve. A small period of time where they could put down their guards and masks, to stay home with whoever they loved was left. The very idea was heavenworthy.

He could see it in their eyes. They were in the arena again, turning against each other to claw for the prize that awaited them if they won. Even Chaff, the most easy-going of them all, looked grim and ready to crush anyone who dared to take this dangling bait away from him.

Snow’s smile was menacing, cruel and mocking. Finnick was attacked by a sudden feeling of hatred so deep that he wanted to leap across the table and strangle the bastard.

He was doing this. He was creating strife among a group of damaged people who only had each other. And god damn it, it was working.

“We could take him in.” Gloss instantly, eagerly, volunteered before anyone could say anything. “Two tributes taking him in will be quite a story for the Capital.”

“Pair of victor siblings taking in a child who doesn’t know our ways? It’ll be great on the papers.” Cashmere added in her two cents.

“My children and husband would love him.” Cecelia interjected with a harshness that was outside her usually motherly nature. “A whole family set would sound much better in comparison.”

Enobaria scoffed, the sound full of condescension. “Please. It’s going to have to be someone from a Career district obviously. After all, if anyone should hold guests, it should be from the best of the best. Everyone knows that.”

“Really? Cause this is news to me bitch.” Johanna hissed, eyes sparking like spitfire.

“What did you say?”

Finnick watched as chaos and screeching shouts bounced off the walls, watched as they all destroyed each other, picking on each other’s weaknesses that they gained over the years. Tearing each other apart until nothing will be left but resentment and bloodshed.

Watched as Snow smiled in the background, reaping the benefits of the discord he has caused.

He glanced at Haymitch and Chaff, who were looking at each other with grave expressions as the euphoria of what was offered wore off for these older men who had seen too much.

The revolution they were trying to set up needed not just a spark, but cooperation. If this ended up destroying the tributes trust in each other, there was going to be hell to pay. They couldn’t afford to break apart, not now. Not when they were so damn close.

So Finnick did what he always did.

He took the fall so others would survive.

Putting on his most winning smile, he started to laugh, the pressure of knowing this would have to be an once-in-a-lifetime performance making his hands slightly clammy. Everyone stopped and was watching him now.

But nobody was going to notice something minor like that.

All they saw was Finnick Odair grinning charmingly with all the confidence of a man who knew he was going to win.

Most of the tributes have seen him act, knows his cues and ticks and weak spots.

He was determined to not let any of them show.

Finnick started to clap in a rather languid manner, still grinning away while Snow watched him with beady eyes that took in his handsome features down to his ridiculous dress shoes that his stylist insisted he should wear.

“Well,” Finnick clicked his teeth, putting on a show of mock disapproval. “This isn’t civilized at all. Though I have to say, Enobaria is right. It’s going to have to be a Career, otherwise people aren’t going to see it as us being completely hospitable with our guest.”

He just knew Johanna was glaring lasers at him even without looking. She was going to hate him by the end of this.

Snow was staring at him contemplatively, aged eyebrows raised.

“And you’re suggesting yourself?” he said mildly.

“Of course!” Finnick chuckled lowly, seductively. It always won him points, even when he’s not in bed. “Out of all the tributes, I’m the youngest by far, excluding our lovely Johanna of course but like I said, Career. So logically, our guest who’s what, sixteen? Eighteen? He would feel most comfortable with someone close to his age group. More willing to trust.”

“Indeed.” Snow agreed, and Finnick’s heart thumped wildly as victory came within reach. “However, how are you so sure he will trust you in the end?”

“No offense Mr. President,” Finnick said with all the empty arrogance he could muster. “but who doesn’t like me?”

And oh, how bitterly true that was.

Snow actually chuckled at this, cool amusement clear in his eyes and that’s when Finnick knew he won.

“True.” The man looked him straight in the eyes, turning Finnick cold. “Who knows, you just might like him back.”

And on that note, President Snow left the room, the door closing behind the disorder he had just created of his own making.


She passed him by furiously along with everyone else.

Finnick sighed in the now empty room and ran a hand through bronze locks, feeling more alone then he has in a long time.

Note: ARE YOU KIDDING ME. This was meant to be crack! It still is, by the way, but wow, this took a serious turn that I didn’t mean for it to take. Like, what the hell? I’m kind of proud/annoyed with myself right now. God, just, please accept this and I pray to god people won’t start asking me to turn this into an actual fic. I have waaay too much to do to afford that right now. Anyways, please reblog, comment, or generally tell me what you think so far! And whether or not I characterized Finnick okay. I really don’t want to screw up his character.

Coming Back - An Everlark one-shot

A HUGE thank you goes out to Angela for fixing my ever present ‘fuck-it-I-don’t-care’ typos. You are amazing! Thank you!

It’s been two years.

Two years since Katniss let the words slip past her lips.

Two years since I knew what it was like to move so completely as one with another person.

Two years since the word real took on a much deeper meaning for me.

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Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entails, I am broken. Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he‟s there, holding me and patting my back. “It‟s okay. It‟ll be okay, sweetheart.”

So according to some people Katniss and Peeta isn't a love story?

“To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed.” - Hunger Games

“I just…I just miss him. And I hate being so alone.” - Hunger Games

“Well, I don’t have much competition here,” he says. I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I can’t. It’s as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, “Say it! Say it!”
I swallow hard and get the words out. “You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in.” - Hunger Games

“One more time? For the audience?“ he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.
I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.” - Hunger Games

“Stay with me.” As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don’t quite catch it.” - Catching Fire

“Peeta, how come I never know when you’re having a nightmare?” I say.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says.
“You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.
“It’s not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I’m okay once I realize you’re here.” - Catching Fire

“I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you.”- Catching Fire

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.” - Catching Fire

“I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies.
“I do,” I say. “I need you.” - Catching Fire

“Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of make my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.” - Catching Fire

“They can pump whatever they want into my arm but it takes more than that to keep a person going once she’s lost the will to live.” - Catching Fire

“You’re alive,” I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that’s so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta’s alive.”- Mockingjay

“Sometimes when I’m alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena.” - Mockingjay

“I want him back” - Mockingjay

“In the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too.” - Mockingjay

“At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. “Your favorite colour … it’s green?”
“That’s right.” Then I think of something to add. “And yours is orange.”
“Orange?” He seems unconvinced.
“Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset,” I say. “At least, that’s what you told me once.”
“Oh.” He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. “Thank you." But more words tumble out. "You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”
Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.” - Mockingjay

“I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss,“ says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn’t a healer.”
I’m jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. “You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?”
“Real,” he says. “And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?”
“Real.” I shrug. “You were the reason I was alive to do it.” - Mockingjay

“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.
“Real,” I answer. “Because that’s what you and I do, protect each other.” - Mockingjay

“Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp.
“I can’t,” he says.” - Mockingjay

“Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.” - Mockingjay

“Stay with me.



It’s  impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much more worse than death.
“Cut,” I hear Cressida say quietly.
“What’s wrong with her?” Plutarch says under his breath.
“She’s figured out how Snow’s using Peeta,” says Finnick.
There’s something like a collective sigh of regret from that semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a  entails, I am broken.
Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he’s there, holding me and patting my back. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I say.
“I know,” he says.


Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he’s there, holding me and patting my back. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay, sweetheart." 


Until this point Katniss, from where Snow sits, is out of control.  He can’t contain her and he can’t contain the Rebels, nothing he’s said or done thus far has put the thought of rebellion out of the minds of those in the Districts, but this moment when he sees Peeta die and Katniss frantic and then overjoyed that Finnick brought Peeta back to life… “it seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta’s life in limbo I finally did.  And in doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.” (MJ 156)

Before this it was an endless battle of, Snow > discredit Katniss > weaken Rebels > win the war BUT now….now it’s so much easier to him.  He knows a much better way to weaken the Rebels would be to get Peeta…because then it would look a little more like this…

Snow > gets Peeta > weakens and incapacitates Katniss > hinders the Rebels from gaining any real ground because of the Mockingjay being too preoccupied with getting Peeta back

Snow did more than weaken and emotionally defeat Katniss, he weakened the Rebellion, and that’s what he wanted.  Because he saw just how much Katniss loved Peeta – in this one moment – he knew the best way to get at the Rebels, was to get Peeta.

Peeta had become her source of strength and protection, once that was taken away she had nothing.  She was weakened and inconsolable, and subjective.  She scrutinized everything the Rebels did and the more and more time that went by without them even considering rescuing Peeta, the less helpful she became.  She finally realized that she wasn’t helping Peeta or the Rebellion by doing nothing, so she stood up, she became the Mockingjay…and yet…

What snapped for her was them beating Peeta…

“Katniss, just this one line and you’re done today.  I promise,” says Cressida.  "‘Thirteen’s alive and well and so am I.“

I swing my arms to loosen myself up.  Place my fists on my hips.  Then drop them to my sides.  Saliva’s filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and I feel vomit at the back of my throat.  I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and – that’s when I start crying.

It’s impossible to be the Mockingjay.  Impossible to complete even this one sentence.  Because now I know that everything I say will directly be taken out on Peeta.  Result in his torture.  But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that.  Snow will ensure that his life is much worse than death.

"Cut,” I hear Cressida say quietly.

“What’s wrong with her?” Plutarch says under his breath.

“She’s figured out how Snow’s using Peeta,” says Finnick.

There’s something like a collective sigh of regret from the semicircle of people spread out before me.  Because I know this now.  Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again.  Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entails, I am broken.

Several sets of arms would embrace me.  But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too.  I reach out for him and say something like his name and he’s there, holding me and patting my back.  "It’s okay.  It’ll be okay, sweetheart.“  He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob.

"I can’t do this anymore,” I say.

“I know,” he says.

“All I can think of is – what he’s going to do to Peeta – because I’m the Mockingjay!” I get out.

“I know.”  Haymitch’s arm tightens around me.

“Did you see?  How weird he acted?  What are they – doing to him?” I’m gasping for air between sobs, but I manage one last phrase.  "It’s my fault!“ And then I cross some line into hysteria and there’s a needle in my arm and the world slips away. – Mockingjay, pgs. 162-163

Here is where she grasps whats going on, and this is the point that Snow has won.  But his victory does not last long.  And in the end she gets Peeta back – mostly – but Snow knew that the best way to get to her was through Peeta…and through Peeta he got.

But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta too.

Katniss Mockingjay Chapter 11

Because he loves Peeta too!  No past tense, this is current.  She loves Peeta and the only one who can comfort her is the only other person who loves Peeta as much as she does.  

Originally posted by hypehope

…even after all the time she has spent trying to hate Haymitch.  Peeta’s pain brings them back together.

It’s interview time with @shesasurvivor! This is some good stuff, so read on my fellow fandom friends. There’s a fun little game at the end. :) We want to thank @papofglencoe for creating our new author banners! Udabomb Pbg

So what does a day in your life look like?

Well, most of the year, it’s get up, work out, head to work, come home, study, go to bed, rinse and repeat. I’m still trying to figure out a way to fill my days after work during summer vacation, though.

So you’re in college?

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