losing my religion @marcelinelaveau - Tumblr Blog

#( haymitch. )#until i find a proper tag for him

It was only a matter of time before the victor was captured and thrown into custody by District Thirteen. He had killed many of their soldiers already, protecting himself from what he still saw as a threat. They had to shoot him with two tranquilizers before they could successfully take him down without completely hurting him (though some wanted to very badly.)

When he woke up, he found himself in a maximum security cell. Knowing he was still in the Capitol, he tried finding a way out, but to no avail. So he waited. And waited. And waited. Until rebel soldiers came to take him from the room. That’s when he tried to make his escape.

Both of their necks were twisted and broken before they even realized it. Haymitch didn’t get very far, though. Again, he was knocked out and dragged back to his room.

The next time he woke up, he was in the same room…. With cuffs. When more soldiers came, they grabbed him by the arms, determined to take him somewhere— probably to my death, he thought. Haymitch thrashed about in their arms, needing to get out of there. He was not going to die. Not yet. Hell no.

marcelinelaveau

The moment Marceline had been informed that Haymitch was among the group of prisoners that was being taken back to District Thirteen, she’d begun preparing herself for the worst. They’d warned her -- told her that he was far from himself, but that hadn’t stopped her from getting her hopes up despite the fact that she’d tried desperately not to. An odd combination of excitement and fear coursed through the therapist as she paced back and forth through her office until a knock sounded throughout the room.

It was time.

Hands clasped in front of her, Marceline slowly entered the dimly lit room, brows furrowing as her eyes adjusted. Her heart pounded within her chest, so hard that she was certain she could hear it with each step she took. That was when she saw him, fighting and struggling to get out of the guards’ grips. Ignoring the voice in her head that was screaming at her to stay back, the blonde made her way forward, breath catching in her throat before she finally managed to speak.

“ Haymitch.”

#c #c; haymitch

frodo-sam

#( visage. )

finnickodoubledair-blog-blog

I don’t know, maybe it’s not so bad!

marcelinelaveau

Not so bad? What good can possibly come from this?

#kcswap #c #c; finnick

I am not drunk enough for this.

#kcstarter #kcswap

missdontcare-x

#photos #actual angel sarah paulson

drunkentroll-blog

Doooowwwwn the hatch~

drunkentroll-blog

Drinking has never been a joke to me, Marcy.

Too late for that, ain’t it. He said as he tipped the bottle back again, closing his eyes as it slid down his throat.

marcelinelaveau

You're right. It is too late.

I think...I think we should stop our sessions -- stop seeing each other until you're ready to actually work with me again.

#damn it lucy #c #c; haymitch

drunkentroll-blog

Doooowwwwn the hatch~

drunkentroll-blog

Yep. I was. Thought it was aaaall over. Then I had to make the stupid decision to go back to Twelve.

marcelinelaveau

Do you even care? Or is this all a joke to you? We could have...we could have tried another shot or something -- anything.

#c #c; haymitch #fuq u

drunkentroll-blog

Doooowwwwn the hatch~

drunkentroll-blog

Lana Banana~ Like some?

marcelinelaveau

No, I --

You were doing so well, Haymitch.

#c #c; haymitch #900% done

drunkentroll-blog

Doooowwwwn the hatch~

marcelinelaveau

#c #c; haymitch #unamused and sad marcy is sad #except not crying #yet

acacioflamel

Seems I did, so sorry.

Aye, yeah, Flamel - rather, Acacio’s better. I’ve been, uh… well, truth be told, I’ve been searching for the kitchen for the last hour and a half.

marcelinelaveau

Well, you're not even close. You're a few floors off, actually. I'd offer to give you directions, but I'm horrible at it. How about I just escort you down there?