ivedescoveredheathsjoker

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

A Change of Plans

Request: hi!! could i request a oneshot for haymitch where theyre already in a relationship, takes place during the 75th hunger games and shes reaped, reader is very similar to annie cresta - soft spoken, shy, kind but emotionally fragile due to past trauma - maybe haymitch and katniss’s alliance negotiations are more desperate because he promised to get her out of the games? please and thank you!!

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, spoilers for Catching Fire 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The train hummed beneath them—too smooth, too quiet—like it had no business carrying something as ugly as death. Haymitch sat stiffly in his usual seat, a glass in hand he hadn’t touched. For once, the burn of liquor wasn’t enough. Not for this.

The reaping was over.

For District 12, at least.

Katniss and Peeta were reaped.

Well—he was. Technically.

Peeta volunteered, though it wasn’t like Haymitch could do much to stop him. Not when the Capitol stacked the deck so neatly, not when Snow already knew every move they’d make before they made it.

It was all exactly what he feared.

And somehow worse.

Because it wasn’t just Katniss and Peeta.

It was who else had been chosen.

The third Quarter Quell.

Where the victors themselves became the tributes.

A punishment wrapped in a celebration.

He hadn’t seen her yet. Hadn’t let himself imagine it. Wouldn’t allow her face to take shape in his mind—not until he had to. He thought he could delay it. Maybe she wouldn’t be reaped. Maybe, for once, the odds would lean in their favor.

Now, the screen played the recaps—district by district. A slow, cruel countdown. Effie had turned the volume up, her voice unnaturally chipper when she said they should “know who we’re up against.”

Peeta sat with his elbows on his knees, eyes fixed. Katniss sat rigid beside him, barely breathing.

A notepad lay in Peeta’s lap, filled with frantic notes and rough sketches. Names circled, others crossed out, arrows and question marks scribbled into the margins. He wrote based on Haymitch’s earlier comments—strategy, personalities, strengths. He wanted to be ready. Wanted to protect her.

They didn’t know how impossible that would be.

Haymitch sat bracing himself. His hands were already trembling, though he hadn’t taken a sip. He didn’t look at the others. Didn’t dare.

District 8.

The screen flickered.

There she was.

Standing alone on the platform, washed in that horrible blue-white Capitol lighting that made everyone look a little more ghost than human. Her hands were folded in front of her, fingers white at the knuckles. Her shoulders hunched slightly, like she was trying to make herself disappear into herself.

Just her and one other female tribute.

She hadn’t changed much. Maybe a few more lines around her eyes, a new softness in her features. But the essence of her remained untouched. The gentleness. The quiet strength. The kindness.

Even now, she looked soft.

Everything the arena was not.

Katniss inhaled sharply beside him. “Oh.”

Effie’s hand fluttered up to her mouth, her expression crumbling. “Oh no…”

Haymitch didn’t look at them. Didn’t acknowledge anything but the screen. His heart thudded slow and sick in his chest, and his fingers curled tight around the glass he still hadn’t touched.

Y/N stepped forward when they called her name. Her voice was low, trembling—barely above a whisper. But she walked. Unflinching. No dramatics. No sobs. Just the quiet dignity she always carried, like a thread sewn into her very bones.

She didn’t look surprised.

She didn’t cry.

That was her.

Always braver than anyone realized.

Braver than him.

“Won’t the other volunteer for her? She’s…” Peeta’s voice trailed off, uncertain, trying to say the right thing. “She’s not the most violent, is she?”

Haymitch’s jaw clenched. “I doubt it,” he said tightly. “The other female victor, Cecilia. Sweet woman. But she’s got three kids. If she wasn’t picked, she wouldn’t volunteer.”

Katniss was watching him now, not the screen. Her voice dropped into something softer than he’d ever heard it. “You didn’t think they’d pick her.”

“No,” he said flatly. “But then again…” He raised the glass, whiskey burning his throat. “Sometimes the odds are leaned into our favor.”

He tasted bitterness more than alcohol.

Because he knew.

He knew Snow did this on purpose.

Picked this Quarter Quell theme.

Picked Katniss.

Picked her.

This wasn’t justice. It wasn’t random. It was Snow’s hand around his throat, squeezing harder every time Haymitch dared to hope for something better. Dared to love something again.

Haymitch leaned forward and set the glass down, scrubbing his hands over his face like he could erase the image burned into the back of his eyelids—his wife, his wife, standing stiffly as Peacekeepers took her from the stage. They cut the footage just before she looked back.

But he didn’t need to see it.

He knew that look.

He’d seen it before.

The first time she was reaped, before they’d ever met.

Before she won.

Before he ever dared to let someone in again.

He had spent years protecting her in the only way he knew how—keeping her name quiet, keeping her out of the Capitol’s grasp, tucked away in the shadows of District 8. She had always felt too good for this world. Too soft for it. But she’d survived it once.

Her condition, her fragility, her gentle demeanor—none of it ever made her weak. It just made her precious. To him.

Now they were throwing her back into the fire.

“Haymitch,” Effie said gently. Her voice had lost all its Capitol shine. “I am… so terribly sorry.”

He didn’t answer. What was there to say?

There was no plan. No maneuver. No clever twist of words that could undo this.

All he could see was her. That quiet smile she gave him when she mended his clothes. The way she held his hand in bed when the nights were too dark. The smell of her hair. The small kiss to his wrist when she thought he was asleep. Her voice saying his name like it meant something.

Gone.

No.

Not gone.

Still within reach.

The plan was still in motion. The one he’d built with Plutarch piece by piece. But now… now it needed to be reshaped. Bent to save her.

He stood abruptly. His voice was rough, slurred at the edges, but solid where it counted. “She’s not dying in that arena.”

“Haymitch—” Peeta started, knowing that at the end, only one of them could get out. There was no way they’d let them get away with it a second year. 

He turned, eyes burning. “I mean it. I don’t care what it takes. If we’re—” He stopped himself. Too many ears. Too many cameras. He gritted his teeth.

Katniss nodded slowly, picking up what he was putting down. “We’ll watch her back. But you know how this works. Especially now. Only one can make it out.”

Only one.

That’s what the Capitol wanted them to believe.

But Katniss and Peeta didn’t know what he did.

Didn’t know Beetee’s plan.

Plutarch’s plan.

Didn’t know the ship hovering beyond the clouds that would be ready for when the time comes.

Didn’t know he’d already laid the groundwork to get her out. He just needed to get the other Victors on board.

He just had to keep Katniss alive long enough to make it happen.

For the rebellion to happen.

But now he had another factor to worry about. His wife was now stuck in the games. Haymitch needed to figure out a way to keep her safe. Sponsors would only do so much, and Cecelia would ensure you were looked after. The capital loved you and all the clothes you made. A Capital favorite, especially to all the designers like Cinna.

Maybe Finnick would do. He could be trusted.

Or Johanna. She liked Y/N. Had a soft spot for her, even if she’d never admit it.

It could work.

It had to.

Effie dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “She’s one of the good ones,” she whispered. “Always has been.”

Haymitch didn’t reply.

He couldn’t.

He turned and left, boots heavy against the floor as he crossed the car to his compartment. Once the door slid shut, he walked to the window and leaned a hand against it. The tracks blurred by below, the sky painted in ash and dying light.

Somewhere out there, she was being powdered, painted, packaged for the cameras. Being forced into a dress she didn’t want. Touched by hands that didn’t know her. Made to smile through the terror.

Somewhere, she was alone.

And he was here.

But not for long.

This time, he wouldn’t watch from the sidelines.

This time, if the world wanted war—they’d get it.

Because no one was taking her from him again.

Not without burning for it.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

I havent been here in so long, but having gone through my first relationship and having it break apart. I’m back to wondering if it’s all real. I did have some happy moments; but I also had some extremely depressing moments. I am now left to read fanfiction in the midst of a situationship and I wonder if i will fall in love… I wonder if the man that I love will love me back again…

Question. Is my idea of love unrealistic? Like the love in songs like Somthing and When I'm 64 by the Beatles, its this beautiful sort of love that lasts for a long time. Or the love Patrick Verona has for Kat. Or the love that Eric has for Shelly. I wonder if I'll ever fall for someone like them. Sometimes it feels like that sort of forever-you mean-the-end-of-the-world-to-me-true-love type of love doesn't exsist in the world. So is it unrealistic to beleive in that sort of love, or am i just looking at it in a pessimistic sort of way?

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Today is the first time in a while that I've felt Arthur's presence. He's been sittng with me, both of us doing our thing, but quietly enjoying our own spaces and the company of one another. It's strange feeling his love again.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

i zoned out in 2019 and never zoned back in

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

why are men always hot when they’re fictional or twice my age

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Hello

Hello everyone. I dunno how often I’ll post but i want to have a tumblr again. I may rebrand but who knows lol. I’m a lot better than I was nearly a year ago. A lot has happened, going off to college, becoming fully goth, and I am now a published writer. My mental health has been better, such as trying to get better with my ed and no longer feeling suicidal. I've improved my artwork too! I'm curious how some of you have been since I left. Btw I still think of sunshine when I think of Heath.

📷

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

For anyone wondering this, no, it’s not unrealistic. It’s rare, and beautiful and you have to be willing to compramise and make it work. It wont look like a romcom but you will feel it in beautiful moments. Look at Mary Poole and Robert Smith-they’re the definistion of the song When I’m 64.

Question. Is my idea of love unrealistic? Like the love in songs like Somthing and When I'm 64 by the Beatles, its this beautiful sort of love that lasts for a long time. Or the love Patrick Verona has for Kat. Or the love that Eric has for Shelly. I wonder if I'll ever fall for someone like them. Sometimes it feels like that sort of forever-you mean-the-end-of-the-world-to-me-true-love type of love doesn't exsist in the world. So is it unrealistic to beleive in that sort of love, or am i just looking at it in a pessimistic sort of way?

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

To myself, you weren’t stupid. Now that I’m a few years older, I do think it could’ve been him, his happy loving spirit. It’s strange Im the same age as him. God...I’d give anything to have him back still, give him a kiss on the cheek. 

I miss Heath. I've never met him so it's a bit stupid to miss somone you've never met, but i do. I get in these moods somtimes and it sucks because for a few days I miss him and wish he was still alive. Not that i dont wish he wasn't alive, its just...his death hits harder on certain days. Dreaming of him last night was happy-sad. I had a dream that i met him. He was in the hospital for some reason and we talked. We talked about music movies home. He was laughing and smiling the entire time. It was nice seeing him genuinely happy. I told him how happy i was to see he was alive. He just smiled. I had to go into another room for somthing i realized it wasn't him. He wasn't there, he was still dead. Suddenly i was home and the interaction never happened, it was all in my head. Somtimes I wonder if it was really him, just trying to give me hope.💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Hello. I think i need to accept that i havent been apart of this community for a long time and sadly have moved on. I may post i may not. Idk yet. I miss the community but im no longer here. I barley know any of u anymore and ig thats ok. Makes me a bit sad. But im now apart of a new community and thats ok. Im no longer taking requests or anything. Im still gunna be on here. My mental health has gotten worse with an eating disorder and cutting. I hate saying that this is the end of what was my joker phase but it is. Im still close to the crow and eric. Now im fully submerged in The Cure fandom on insta. this isnt the last post for me here, but im no longer going to post joker content. Im sorry.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Hey does anyone want any comfort character letters? I was hoping to write again and i thought it might be fun to try writing comfort character letters.

Movies i can write for:

A Knight's Tale

10 Things I Hate About You

The Dark Knight

Joker 2019

The Crow

Harley Quinn (as a character)

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Today ive felt so connected to Eric 🖤

Tw: selfharm

I love him very much and wanted him to know that i haven't sh in 2 weeks. The scabs have gone and all thats left is the scar that is now slowly fading. For him i will try my best to keep from cutting.

He gave me a beaded necklace a few days ago which was nice. He said it reminded him of me bc of the teal color, that its the same color as thr cover of my favorite album. I love them so much 🖤🖤🖤 All i wanna do rn is give him a hug and kiss and tell him im doing my best. Im trying to do better. I love him so much🖤

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Guys i managed to find this today ^¬^

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💌

Thank you 💜💗 this means a lot rn💜💗

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

I'm coming to find you if it takes me all night

Felt like a cure post tonight. Sorry i haven't been uploading >< feeling very selfconsous.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Hi guys just wanted to tell u guys about my dream.

It opened in arkham insane asylum. Half of the building was half for criminals half of people who just haf mental health problems. Now to the rest of gotham they never knew arkham asylum exsisted, and those who went in never came out. For a bit i had this view of a random worker outside of arkham. He had stumbled across this huge artwork of J which terrified him, realizeing that he was helping to fix the wall of arkham asylum. Some reporters asked him to go into arkham to see what it was like. So he somehow managed to get in, sent into the mental health facility part of arkham. This is when we findout that its heath ledger. He wore the same outfit as j, but as he walked into this elevator, his outfit changed. He had brown hair instead of blonde, the coat turned red and was styled diffrently. Then it fliped over to me where. I was running about the facility enjoyinv the plushes i was given and enjoying the pink vibe of the place. My room had an aquarium tank which was nice to look at too. Thats when heath came in. At first i got scared bc i thought he was j, but then i could see some of his slight diffrences and that he didn't have scars. We began talking about the facility and sadly thats when i woke up...

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

I've been working on this portrait of Arthur for a long time. I've been working on my art style for a while, so I hope you guys like him.

[ivedescoveredheathsjoker]

Hey, just a heads up to everyone who follows my blog: if you see anybody with an orange and black square in their bio, they’re a transphobe.

Idiots on TikTok have been coming out in droves in support of some bullshit identity called “super straight” which basically means that they’re only attracted to cis people 🙄 They’re trying to wedge themselves into the LGBTQ+ community and their claim is that it’s phobic toward them to say that they’re transphobic… it’s just a gargantuan cishet headache.

So, to reiterate: orange and black squares = the “super straight” flag = transphobic dogwhistle. Stay safe everyone!