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[captain-lessship]

Kurt Cobain x fem!Reader Headcannons (NSFW included)

A/n: Was a request from for ever ago

- You and him were.. very different.

- To start, you were a sunny vacation town girl who’s daddy dearest owned several businesses in. You were on the more popular side in highschool, prom queen and Miss Seaside winner for two years in a row. Your parents expected you to go off to college, get an excellent degree and marry a lawyer. You didn’t go that route.

- You went to a few auditions and you got casted in a movie and that set off your career.

- They were proud that you were a Hollywood gal. Their sweet little girl? an actress! A loved one: funny, pretty and kind. You demanded the focus of the camera and it loved you. Now they expected you to win awards and marry an attractive actor like Johnny Depp or Leonardo DeCaprio. But the one you picked? Kurt Cobain. He wasn’t even an actor!

- Kurt was the kinda man your mom would faint and send your Dad into heart attack if you ever told them that you and Kurt were together. (Thank god you told you mother near a soft couch and your father has great health insurance.)

- It shocked at lot of people when you were seen at Nirvana shows, singing along and vibing with the rest of the crowd. It shocked them even more when Kurt came to your movie premiere. He wasn’t a formal guy yet here he was: by your side, supporting your achievements.

- Your parents eventually came around to the idea of him and warmed up to him being around. Kurt knew he was officially part of the family when he saw a stocking his nitial on your alls mantel.

- Kurt was a very gentle person despite the persona he developed for the stage.

- Many thought that he didn’t love you when the pictures of you both appeared in magazines. In those pictures, he looked like being with you was torture but that wasn’t the truth at all.

- In the majority of the random paparazzi pictures, Kurt seemed standoffish like a cat who had its tail stepped on, while you were just rattling on about what your plans were. You both blamed it on no context.

- Your voice always grounded Kurt and sometimes his anxiety would hit him in public.

- But the ones your loved ones took?Kurt looking at you like you are the love of his life (you are). Your favorite was from the Christmas dinner you and the rest of Nirvana decided to have while on tour. You were sitting in Kurt’s lap and you were unwrapping the gift Krist had gotten you. Kurt was looking at you like you were an art piece and you frozen in laughter. You kept this photo on your bedside table and had another copy in the hallway.

- After it was well established that you both were together, Kurt was affectionate in public. He would pepper kisses to your cheek and the corners of your lips when you sat in for interviews, leaving the talking to Dave. He could be seen resting his head against your shoulder during car rides, award ceremonies and when you guided him home when he had too much to drink or smoke, his lips would always try to attach themselves to yours.

- If Kurt was ever missing, all they had to do was find you and he wouldn’t be more than a few feet away.

- If you’d let him, he’d be in the bathroom while you took a shower. You didn’t mind it because it was never an inconvenience. Kurt knew when he could and couldn’t be attached to you.

- Kurt jokingly covers Dave’s and Krist’s eyes if you have a semi-nude scene in a movie. But if they were to stare too hard (they don’t), he would throw something at them.

- You both share cigarettes often. He used to grumble about the lipstick stain you left on them but he grew to love them and miss them even.

- He was even more affectionate in private, constantly laying his head in your lap, pulling you into his lap on the rare occasion he was sitting up. Krist and Dave joked that if he wasn’t touching you, he’d die.

- It was half true. He was saddened and moody when you weren’t around. Krist gave up and called you when they were trying to take the pictures for the Nevermind album. The second you walked in the building, Kurt’s mood improved tenfold

- It was mutual. Any time you were having a near breakdown over something, someone just had to call Kurt. He once came to your studio to console you over your hair, which the stylist who stepped in for your regular, had just melted with bleach. He assured you that you looked sexy with shorter hair and you felt better and the stylist lived to see another day. (He was right and you were a real trend setter with your shorter hair with layers.)

- At home, you and him were very quiet (strange ik). But it was comfortable quiet and it never was completely silent.

- Only the sound of soft guitar playing and the flipping pages of your book could be heard. It was peaceful.

- People were always shocked to hear you say how good of a lover he was, which highly offended you.

- “He can be a four to you and a ten to me and that’s alright cause he’s not for you.” Is what you snapped at an interviewer who was wondering why you were dating Kurt.

- They wanted you to say either money or fame but your answer was what you thought. Kurt was pissed that they were all but calling you a gold digger when you actually had your own gold and no need for his.

- Flowers came to you every time he was away. You kept a dried flower from every bouquet

- He would pick a necklace from your jewelry box and wear it if he was going to be gone for a while.

- He kisses you softly, as if he would bruise you if he did other wise. His finger traced shape into your arms and on the top of your hand.

- His stubble tickles you often and he purposefully rubs his face against the side of your neck or your face to get you to laugh. (You go through the stages of grief every time he shaves)

- Matching tattoos <3

- You took great care of Kurt. When he would go into a depressive episode, you would tenderly coax him into still taking care of himself.

- You would sit in the bathroom with him when he showered, sometimes even wash his hair for him. You would wrap him in a bath robe and have him face the wall and you would blow dry and brush his hair. He hated seeing himself in this state so you had him avoid the mirror.

- You would sit out clothes for him and he’d get dressed while you made him something to eat. He would eat and you would talk to him, hopefully keeping him distracted from his thoughts.

- “You deserve better”

- You didn’t believe him when he said it. “I think you’re perfect for me.”

- That eased his thoughts for a while. He believed that you deserved someone who wasn’t sick, in pain and moody all the time but you wanted him. He knew he had to wife you up.

- To give him credit, he took great care of you. He would paint your nails, clean your makeup brushes, rub your shoulders and would leave you little treats in the house or in your car.

- Every night that he was home, he would hold you and rub your back til you fell asleep. If you held him, you would play with the hair at the base of his neck til you heard soft snores.

- He was always appreciative for all that you did for him, often gloating and talking about you. “Oh my girlfriend? The angel that was sent to earth? Yeah she likes my songs.” “My girlfriend can do that.” “Have you seen my girlfriend in that new show?”

- He worshipped the very ground you walked on.

- You and him were acting like an old married couple from the day you made it official. With wild careers, you didn’t have it in you to have wild free time. You were both gentle souls deep down and it was brought out when you were together.

- When you and him got married, it was a bitch to plan. He had shows, you had filming. After months, you decided on a September wedding at a nice venue. Everything had gone perfect until your reception. You had changed into your shorter party dress and were heading to see Kurt when it happened.

- It started to rain. Kurt looked at you and you looked at Kurt. You both had the same idea.

- You kicked off your heels and he took off his jacket and out you two went: playing in the rain.

- You both were soaked and laughing. You and him were kicking water at each other. Some of your less up tight guests joined in. Slowly turning it into a muddy brawl.

- Best Wedding Ever.

——————NSFW——————

- The first time you and Kurt had sex was after one of your award shows, you didn’t win but you were about to win something else.

- Kurt had been loving how you looked in your dress. When you returned home, your usual make out session seemed to have more behind it. You picked up on what he wanted to do before he admitted it.

- It was an experience. He fucked you like you’d never been fucked before. He held one of your legs up by your ankle and had magnificent rhythm. He loved the honey dipped noises that came from you.

- Has effectively ruined the idea of ever having sexual encounters with anyone else (not that you would ever think about it but if anything ever happened between the two of you? It’s a life of nun hood for you.)

- After you were finished and cleaned up, you and him laid next to each other, smoked a cigarette and looked at each other with nothing but love.

- Playful wrestling was typically how you ended up making love. You either ended pinning him down or he would hold you back by the band of your bra, pushing him to be tempted to take it off of you.

- There was another popular reason that lead to sex. You were not oblivious to how the grunge girls looked at him like some sort of god. You weren’t typically the jealous type but just something about the very dedicated fans hit a nerve. grabbing his hand and leading him away.

- He was confused the first few times this happened, thinking you were mad at him but it clicked when you entered your hotel room. You simply took off your shirt and pants and Kurt got the hint.

- While Kurt didn’t get jealous of your male co stars, he would jokingly make fun of them to Dave and Krist. If they were staring at you or were trying to get that on screen romance to translate to real life, he would simply enter the conversation and mock them to their faces. He did it in a way that they really couldn’t do much without having to admit they were after a taken woman.

- He then would take you home. He would ask things like “Do you think he could do it like this?” I am better than him, right?” (This lead to neighbors being able to faintly hear you scream Kurt’s name)

- Kurt is the president of the thigh lover club. He kissed, bit and sucked hickeys on them.

- Kurt isn’t mean persae but he has a mean streak. He would hold off thrusting back into you if he wanted an answer from you, take a little too long to do things or his famous line that he gives if you say speed up. “You do it then.”

- You do it then = He would lay on his back and let you ride it out like a maniac with very little input from him.

- Most of the time, if neither you nor Kurt had the energy but the urge, you would simply rest yourself on his cock and stay until either you had to separate or one of you wanted to properly fuck the other.

- Due to his back problems (it’s what he blamed it on in the beginning before you told him that having preferences were important and his were respected), his favorite positions were ones where you were on top or were you both on your sides.

- ABSOLUTELY loses it when you look back at him while you are reverse cowgirling.

- When he was on top, he had to be looking at you. He wanted to see your expressions. The turned on haze your eyes made him cum almost instantly.

- You and him have had “funny” sex. Meaning you will try things you see in movies and pronos that you both know wouldn’t work between the two of you but would be funny to attempt (Mythbusters of Sex). Even if it completely failed, you both would laugh it off and go do something else like you riding Kurt for dear life.

- Since you were an actress, you had access to costumes and props. You would have sexy fashion shows. His personal favorite was the 70s go-go dancer get up, mainly due to the moves to match.

- There have been some absolute sexual blunders; You were slightly sticky which made you uncomfortable after he finished licking whipped cream off your tits and he nearly froze to death during the lead up shower sex. A sticky woman is an unhappy woman and a frozen man is an unmotivated man.

- When he would go off on tours, you would eventually get so horny that you would have to call him just to listen to his voice. When he figured out that you were touching yourself during these phone calls, his mean streak took hold. It was like a game: he would say the most perverted things to you and you would have to tell him when you came.

- You loved this game, which is why you kept calling.

- When he got back home though, it was your turn to play around. You acted completely oblivious to the call you made and this confused the man. He wasn’t a beggar but an only after a few hours of being home, he would be begging.

- You mercilessly teased him about it, sometimes throwing his word back at him.

- “Missed me? Poor baby.” “So turned on you don’t even know what to do?” “Tell me exactly how you want it.”

- Neither one of you were set in the dominant or submissive role, it depended on the mood.

- You would be the more submissive one if Kurt was gone for a long time or if Kurt seemed very happy.

- Kurt would be the more submissive one if you were mad at your job or if you were the more horny one.

- This man tries to seduce you in the serotypical ways (He read those romance books with the shirtless cowboy men on the covers) but it doesn’t work on you. But when he isn’t even trying, you’re looking at him like a sex god.

- One time, all he did was walk up behind you and massage your shoulders as you were venting about a particularly stressful day, the only difference to the million other shoulder rubs was the fact he leaned in and whispered in your ear. A few hours later, you were spent, half asleep and Kurt was laying there with a hundred yard stare and the post nut shivers.

- You have flashed him during a Nirvana show and he turned bright red and nearly forgot the words to the song.

- Poor Dave has walked in on you guys once. Was traumatizing and he couldn’t look you or Kurt in the eyes without turning red. (May or may not have was to teasing from the both of you like offering him the chance to join, asking if you both could make it as porn stars and asking if what design of tramp stamp you should get since he’d see it too)

- Suffice to say you and Kurt have a healthy and gratifying sex life.

[captain-lessship]

hey, tag this with a food people get really upset about you not liking

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Can you blame me for wanting to fuck L when they made him smart, rich, and an absolute freak of nature?

[captain-lessship]

Love you guys. I have been inactive/ barely active for a bit and Ik. Al lot has been happening irl. Thanks for the patience

[captain-lessship]

Young Mountain Man Pt. 1

It was damn near predetermined that you would be close with William. Being born within just a few months of each other, your mothers became friends. Exchanging blankets and advice on how to care for you both. Due to their closeness, you two were left to play together.

You and him would have hopscotch competitions, kick a ball back and forth and race to the apple tree that was out behind your house.

Your youth was spent with him. Up until he was old enough to go to work with his Pa and you were settling into your own self.

Of course, he still came to visit and you couldn’t help but feel your heart begin to grow attached to him in a new way. Your eyes lingered on his and your gaze would dip to his lips as he was talking. He was becoming very handsome and you couldn’t help but appreciate it.

The reality that you were in love came to under that very apple tree you used to race to. He was sweet and good to you. He had grown into quite the gentleman: holding doors open, picking up some of your dress so you wouldn’t drag it through the mud, helping you on and off your horse and even helping with chores like wood chopping and helping you carry in any heavy objects.

He also was a fantastic person to converse with. He had many ideas and thoughts about the world and how he would run things or opt to change them. He never shut down your opinions on any subject, even if they were a direct contradiction to his view. He had nothing but respect and compassion for you and you had nothing but the same for him.

You were just sitting under the tree, smiling as you thought of your beautiful blonde boy, working on your embroidered dress when you saw the Hatfield’s coming for a visit. You waved to them and began to pick up your things and headed down to meet them.

“Hey there,” Anse said, hopping down from the wagon, “Your Pa home?” He asked.

“Yes sir, he just got back from the store. Hi Levicy! How are you?”

“I am doing fine, how about yourself?” She said as Anse helped her down from the wagon.

William had to have learned it from somewhere, you thought. “I am doing great! Almost done with the dress!” You held it out to the lady and she smiled at the handy work.

“It’s so beautiful. I bet you pricked yourself a few times making it,” she joked, “But it looks like it’ll be worth it.”

Anse looked at the dress, “It’s rather pretty, any special reason?”

“Oh,” you folded it back up as you walked to the door to let your guests in, “I thought it would be a nice dress to wear for birthdays, parties and holidays. No other girl will have a dress like it.”

You opened the door to the house, “Mama! Pa! The Hatfields are here!” You walked to your room and put away the dress and your threads.

“Ah! Anse! Been a while?” You heard your father say, being as loud and boisterous as ever.

“Well Bill, you know how logging is. Busy work. Hear you ain’t doing so bad yourself?”

Your family had gotten its wealth from clothing, textiles and furniture. Your father made wooden furniture that was so beautiful that you couldn’t help but want a piece in your house. The clothing was made by his team of tailors and seamstresses. It was there in his store that you learned your own skills.

“Winters are cold so you need layers and in summer you still gotta be decent. And might as well take a new wardrobe to store it all!”

As you walked out of your room, Levicy was next to speak, “Sylvia! Just the lady I was wanting to see. I heard your apples and peaches have come in heavy this year. Would it bother you if I just picked some for a pie and eating?”

Your Mama was a very giving person, when she had excess that is, “Of course! Bill is already sick of apples.”

Your Pa laughed, “You put ‘em in everything! Sit down you two, rest yourselves.” He motioned for them to sit down in the living room.

“Say,” your Mama began, “It’s been a few months. Where’s your William? Has he got sick of us?”

There was a silence that gave it away that something had happened. You felt your heart begin to quicken.

“Well, we were cutting timber and the tree fell. Some of the splinters caught his eye.”

“Oh goodness,” your mama whispered, “Is he alright now?”

“We thought he was going to have to lose the eye but he won’t. Though, it’s going milky.”

He had been send you letters during those months and hadn’t mentioned it. You frowned, “Did he think that we would say something about it?”

Levicy shook her head, “He doesn’t even like us looking at it right now. It still has redness to it. In a week or two, it’ll be capped over.”

And in a few weeks, you were riding your way up to the Hatfields with the peaches and apples for Levicy. You were excited to see William or Cap as they were now calling him.

It was a good ride and you reached there in time to help Levicy with some dishes before supper, talking about the days of when you were young to pass the time.

“You couldn’t say William so you called him Illy,” she laughed, “It was cute.”

You smiled, “I couldn’t say Anse either.”

“Oh lord! He got so mad that you were calling him Ann but you were just a little thing. Too sweet to be mad at.”

You giggled at little. Thinking and reminiscing always put you in a good mood.

“I want to talk to you about something.” She calmly said.

“Yes?”

“You’re a real sweet girl. Caring and understanding. I know that you and Cap have spent many days together as friends but,” her brown eyes looked into yours, “Do you love him?”

You thought only for a moment before answering, “I do. He’s always there when I need him.”

“Well, that’s good because he’s asked us if he could ask your parents to marry you. I wanted to know if you would be willing before I said yes.”

“He wants to marry me?” You asked, excitement filling your voice.

“Yes. He’s planning on asking them after church tomorrow. I don’t know when exactly he’ll ask you if they say yes but I guess it would be soon.”

Your face began to hurt due to the smile on your face, “I- That’s wonderful!”

“Do you think your parents will approve?”

“Yes! Mama loves him ‘cause he never denies having a second plate and is always sweet to her, says he’s a real gentleman. Pa has said that the only thing he wants for me is to be happy and marry a hard worker! He’s one! Cap is as hard working as any man in West Virginia or even Kentucky.”

“He is!” Levicy said, hugging you. “Now we just gotta wait! Ooh! It’s gonna kill me.”

“It might kill me too!”

Then a small fleet of men came through the door, the Hatfield men were back from logging. Your eyes caught Cap’s and you smiled. He was just as handsome as you remembered. He turned his face to look at you, letting you look at his eye.

It looked like a pearl one of those fancy ladies up in New York and places like that would wear. True that you missed the pair of baby blues but the mismatched set had their own charm. You liked them.

He smiled at you and nodded to you as he took off his hat, a shyness coming to him.

“Hello! Work good today?” You asked the group.

“As well as it always is.” Anse said, taking his hat off.

“Hey,” Cap said, looking at you, “Are you staying for supper or are you heading home?”

“I gotta head home. Mama is busy baking up pies for the Sunday Dinner tomorrow.”

“Your Ma is baking? Oh boy, better wear the pants a size too big tomorrow. She’s one of the best pie bakers in this county.” Johnse joked. It was true. Her secret? A dash of sugar in the egg wash for the crust. A extra sweet hint.

“It’s getting late, I could go with you to make sure you make it home.” Cap offered, his voice had a twinge of hope in it.

“I would like the company and Mama would like an unbiased opinion on her new creation.”

“Aw, can I come too?”

“No, Johnse, but I’ll be sure to tell you about it.” Cap poked at him. A light laugh leaving him.

You and Cap bid the family goodbye, beginning your descent to your house.

The crickets chirped and a faint hoot of an owl sounded ever so often.

“It’s so peaceful.” You said, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, real calming.” He responded. “You like looking at the stars?”

“Yeah, but you know how people say you can see pictures in them? I guess I just don’t know which ones to look at.”

“All I know is the Big Dipper an’ Little Dipper. That’s the main two.”

“The big one points north, right?”

“Yup!” He looked over at you, “I know this might be an odd question but, do you have anyone after you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like boys. Wanting to court you and stuff?”

“No, why?” You asked, knowing damn well why.

“Well I- You’re a very pretty girl and pretty girls get asked by many boys.”

“Not a one is coming for me.” You laughed lightly, “They all like that Rosanna McCoy and that red headed girl that’s originally from Georgia.”

Cap was silent, thinking about it. “Well, if you were to have your pick, what kind of man would you pick?”

You smiled, “I like when they do things just to do it, not expect nothing in return. I also like them smart, reading and writing smart. And I guess he’d have to be very fun to be around. What kind of woman would you want?”

“Kind. Peaceable too, some people just argue for the sake of arguing and I don’t like it. I like when girls smile, it’s very pretty. I like pretty things.”

You both talked about your figurative romances til you got home, the sun fully gone from the sky.

“I will let you go in before I leave. Goodnight.”

You smiled at him, “Goodnight, Cap. I will see you Sunday. Oh! And just make something up for the creation.”

He grinned, “I will.”

You walked up the pathway and through the door, turning to look out the small window atop the door to watch him leave.

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Hi there! I just found your blog and I have to say I love your work alot! I'm not sure how old or recent the fic is but I just read "the lute of love" your Caspian (Narnia) story and I was wondering if you would actually do a part 2 at any point? It's not every day you find a fic with male reader for characters from these kind of franchises (e.x. Narnia, lotr e.t.c) thank you for your time<3!

I totally can do a part two!

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Hello! Where can one find your masterlist, or in particular, your cap Hatfield fic? Have a great day!

I never made a master list and I never posted my Cap Hatfield fan fic but I can if you are interested in reading it

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the creators struggle of "yes I absolutely made this for myself and I should absolutely appreciate that I made this thing that turned out amazing and be proud of it on that merit alone" vs "man it'd be cool if everyone liked this thing I made as much as I do"

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I miss Nico De Angelo

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Sometimes, usually in the middle of the night, I have these surges where I can pop out like 10+ fics and then not post anything in a month. Maybe it's just my ADHD tho...

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favorite character from any media BUT it has to be a woman. in the tags now go (pls talk to me about your favorite fictional women pls pls pls pls)

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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

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So glad Apple heard this complaint and fixed it

Fuck the notes app for not having an undo feature. (Deleted a big piece of text while trying to copy it)

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Frozen Over Pt. 5

Content Warning: Insinuation of sex, bruises, alcohol, hallucinogenic cigarettes, partying like how fiction makes college parties seem.

A/n: Tell me why there’s a twinge chemistry between Haymitch and Reader? I fr didn’t have to do that and why did I do that??

You woke up hours later, full moon lighting up your room. All of the house was peaceful. No one was due back til late that evening. You looked to the clock, its face illuminated read a quarter past two, there was no reason for you to be awake. You rolled over, expecting him to be there: he wasn’t.

You felt the bed where he should’ve been, it was long cold.

You sat up, letting the covers fall from your chest. “Finnick?” You called out into the room. Wrapping yourself in the blanket to cover you, you walked to your adjoining bathroom, you knocked on the door. There was no answer. You opened it anyway, there was no one.

You looked at yourself in the huge mirrored wall. Faint bruises were blooming on your neck. You let the blanket drop slightly, holding it at your hips where hand prints also blossomed. He painted you with acts love but yet he was gone.

You couldn’t help but force out a laugh: He really took you for a loop this go around. That son of a bitch.

Despite the mild anger, you felt your heart aching. He could’ve stayed. He wasn’t due to leave til the afternoon, your grandfather was busy with getting everything set up and your sister had gone back to your mothers for a visit.

It was just you and him in this house.

With great shame, you picked your clothes off the floor and put them back on also dressing your self in your robe for comfort. You then exited your room, moonlight following down the hall way.

You walked yourself to the window sill, a lump coming to your throat. He didn’t love you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry.

You had carved out your heart and served it to him. He knew he was your first love and he lied.

Rage filled you as you turned and ran back to your room, flinging the door open and marching to your closet. You walked back into it and pushed aside several hangers of clothes.

You yanked the painting of him from the wall and ran out of the room with it. You went into the fireplace that your family lit the fire during a Hunger Games and put it out after it was over.

You took one last look at the painting. Anger took hold of you as you took hold of a fire poker from the rack and stabbed it through the canvas, directly into the painted Finnick’s heart.

You then snapped the wood framing and threw the entire thing into the fireplace. As you watched it burn, you could almost imagine him in the flames, a small figure of him appeared in the flames and you watched him intently, he seemed to be contorting with pain which brought little solace for your own agony.

Dying. Burning. Suffering.

Snow noticed a difference in you the second he laid eyes on you. You seemed colder, not much boyish charm or affection came from you. He smiled at this revelation. Yet a part of him kinda hurt for you, he cared about you deep down in his heart. Snow was not oblivious to the rage and sadness that comes from a lost love. It hurt to see you lounge about as if the life was drained from you. All of what made you your own self was slipping:

You were becoming a spiteful creature and he knew it. He didn’t hate it.

Every time someone mentioned the games, you got a highly irritated look on your face.

Had people seen your face during the Cesar Flickerman interview, they would have half expected the screen to spontaneously combust. You abruptly stood up, tempted to leave the room but something stopped you.

His words.

You turned back to the screen. Had you been just a twinge colder, frost would’ve weaved across the window panes you stood by.

With artic chill, You were stared into Finnick’s eyes. There was a sadness to them. Then you heard the words, he meant it but there was something else. Every other tributes words began to click.

They want out of the games.

You welled up with tears. What were you doing?

There was nothing you could do.

It all began to hit you. How helpless you were. How pointless it all was.

You had been nothing but a replacement for President Snow. You were nothing. How could you ever look Finnick in the eyes again? Would you ever look him in the eyes again?

You began to cry so hard that you started choking on your tears and you were grabbing at your chest, feeling as if your heart was shattering and your lungs were collapsing.

You were a pawn, not a knight.

Then it came to you like peace comes after war. You had to do something.

You walked in like you owned the place, knowing exactly who to find. You strode with confidence through the party hall, many people glancing at you, enjoying your new found energy. But god it was draining. Eventually you found him.

Haymitch Abernathy.

You sauntered over to him, “Mr. Abernathy, I need your help.”

He looked at you, sitting down the drink he was nursing. He wasn’t as drunk as the last few time you saw him.

“And what do I have the pleasure of helping you with?”

“I know vaguely of what you’re planning.” You sat down beside him and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Laugh like I told you a joke. Knowing that we are not supposed to really socialize with each other, we must assume we are being watched.”

He let out a hearty laugh and put his arm around you, moving to whisper in your ear, “What am I planning?”

You chuckled, he reached for his drink, you faced him, “You’re part of a rebellion. So is Finnick and I assume your tributes are too.”

He downed the drink and whispered to you, “I don’t kno-“

“Finnick.” you laughed out loud. You then narrowed your eyes and glared at him. “He mentioned it and I know him well. He wouldn’t mention something he had no interest in.”

Haymitch looked at you, trying to decide whether or not to trust you.

“If I didn’t agree with it,” you removed his arm from your shoulder and made a move to the unique cigarettes in the middle of the that tasted like different fruit flavors, “I would have told my grandfather already.”

As you lit a cigarette, you turned to a waiter who was walking by and took a glass from their tray, thanking them with a smile.

“I guess you would’ve.”

You drank a few sips from the glass straw before sitting it down, “You see, I was planning on not doing anything. Not one side or the other but then I realized that… this is wrong.” You took a deep inhale of the cigarette, the end glowing and sickly blue smoke floated from the end of it.

Haymitch nodded slowly, “Yeah, it is.” You grinned as the smoke seeped out of the corners of your mouth.

You slurped down the rest of the drink, a waiter already eyeing you for a refill. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“One that is in your alls favor.” You tapped off the ashes of the end of your cigarette, “You see, I have a level of influence. I can get you what ever they could want or need in the Arena. Under one condition.”

“Which is?”

You took another drag from the cigarette before turning to Haymitch, the smoke that came from your mouth outlined him. “No matter what, even if your little canaries from the coal mines die, Finnick Odair will make it out alive. Or…” you grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him to you, “I scorch your rebellious districts myself.”

“You are not nearly as scary as you think you are,” he took the cigarette from you and took a hit of it for himself, “Your threat would be worthless if you weren’t a Snow.”

You took it back from him, taking a drag from it, internally noting that you didn’t scare this man. Typically, there was a slight fear in people who associated with you but here this blonde from twelve was: not even a worried look on his face.

“I appreciate the tenacity. Finnick is planned to get out so settle down.” He moved your hand from his shirt. “We should probably laugh, waiter is coming.”

Both of you began to laugh, holding onto each other like old friends. When the waiter came by, you noticed the pitcher of the electric pink cocktail, “Could you leave that here?” You smiled widely at them as they nodded, sitting it down.

As the waiter left, Haymitch looked mildly concerned. “Stressed?”

“Exceptionally.” You poured the refill into your glass.

“May I ask why?”

You chuckled, “I just- They say a child not embraced by the village will set it on fire to feel warmth.” You stared at the ember on the end of your cigarette,

“What about a child who’s been embraced but there was not a single degree of warmth from it? Am I so cold I can’t feel warmth from it all?”

Haymitch reached for the pitcher and poured himself one, “Well, son. I guess many would call that child a traitor but at the end of the day, it’s still a child. I don’t think you’re intentionally cold, I think you were always said you were or that you should be. They made you a cold child.”

A while had passed, you and Haymitch were genuinely laughing. As you got drunker; your tie left, you unbottoned some of your now untucked shirt and your hair that was once neatly styled was disheveled. You decided to get up on the table, “Ladies and Gentlemen! I am so happy to see you all! And guess what? I am so fucking drunk! You’ll never see me like this again!”

Cheers erupted from them, or loud concern, you didn’t know which. Suddenly, the night was turning into a good time.

You danced around like fool, spinning around and attempting to hop like a ballerina; formal dancing was the one skill you did not possess. But dances your grandfather would not approve of were your forte. Hallucinogenic colorful smoke was your rhythmic ribbon; pink, green, yellow and blue wisps wrapped around you like the leading hands of your dance partners.

Under the lights, you took shots from glasses that were held in-between the bosoms of ladies, gentlemen poured liquor like syrups on you that you licked or let them lick off and other guests knocked open champagne bottles while you let it fall upon you like a child playing in rain.

You finally understood why the capital never slept. All you needed was the right party.

The fact you had to be hauled home by Haymitch was shameful. The only thing more shameful was the state your grandfather found you in.

[captain-lessship]

Even if I am dead, comment are great! I hope my casket has wifi so I can read them

woke up this morning to a comment on a fic saying they hoped I didn’t mind them commenting on such an old fic, and the fic isn’t even a year old, so I’m going to reiterate: I can’t speak for every single fanfic writer in the world, but I don’t know a single one myself who wouldn’t be thrilled to get comments on years-old fanfic! there is no deadline! it honestly made my day

[captain-lessship]

The life of a fic writer