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carmineskiesandspidereyes · 1 year

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Do you ever see remnants of someone around your house, without ever having met them?

maybe this is just a me thing. but my parents tell me his name was Brett.

in the kitchen, there's a sunhat on the wall. Pulling it down when I was 8, my mother looked over, smiled, and said "Oh, that's Brett's." In my room there's a wooden box, worn and faded and dull jade green, and I'm told that Brett made it. So of course, it's called the Brett Box.

When I'm 13, my dad pulls a book off our shelves and goes, "Brett wrote this! I'd forgotten.." and then he flips, and flips, and shows me a passage. Not only had Brett written a book, but he'd written us into it as well. briefly. I was only 2, when I'd had the chance to know him.

But now I know that 2-year-old Rose had a 100-watt smile.

When I'm 15, my dad drags climbing equipment out of the garage, and I find him holding up lanyards of pink and purple and blue. I know those hues, and so I ask about it. "Oh, Brett was definitely bisexual," my dad had smiled, winding them through his fingers. "I think he was figuring out his gender too, near the end. Wearing a lot more skirts, and such."

And then we hung grips off the lanyards, went inside and had lemonade.

"Alcoholism," my mother murmurs one night, zipping me into a sequinned gown; 17, now. "He was wonderful, and brilliant, and so full of love...and he was so, so damaged. All from his childhood." Natural grief wells up, even as I'm holding my breath and sucking in my gut. I bite my tongue and wait for her to continue.

"We didn't even know how bad it was until it was too late." She winds a scarf around me. "At that point, there wasn't a lot we could do." And my heart is hurting now but I just nod. I keep listening, because I only ever hear about Brett in bits and pieces; he's everywhere but here. in the sunhat on the wall and the box by the floor and the book on the shelf. In pink-and-purple-and-blue lanyards, and now, every pride flag my dad places. I know him through the echoes he left behind, through whispery remnants and wistful stories. And still, I wish I knew him more.

And it hurts.

By the end of that night, it hits me with aching clarity that he would have been family. I don't know if it makes sense, how suddenly it hurt, to realize a little more of what was lost. Because in a way, he'd always kind of been there. Even after death, Brett is ingrained into this house. And it just hits me, how much more of an impact it could have had, if he'd had the chance to stay.

It hits me that I would have loved him. More than a 100-watt smile could ever convey.

#writeblr #we sad tonight folks #poetry #prose poem of sorts #tw for death and alcoholism #poor capitalization #but it's midnight:30 and I just wanted it out of my brain #thinking so much about this one guy #who I didn't quite know.. but who knew me #and quietly #I will always think about how his best friend's little kid smiling at him was worthy of writing about in his BOOK #and I will have Emotions about it.#ok goodnight tumblr

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puckleberryfinnie · 30 days

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covey!reader in the quarter quell (the performance ratings!!)

hey guys!! I’m finally backk <33 I’m soso sorry for the long wait for this, hopefully someone still wants this!! school and life got really intense there for a sec but I think I’m in the clear now so be prepared for lots more to come!!

summary: reader is now forced to go through with the rating system prior to the games, and with some new found anger, she shows off her skills in a very special way

ships: finnick odair x reader, johanna mason x reader

this is honestly not very good writing (especially the dialogue), but i still hope some for you still enjoy my yapping anyway!! anyways, hope you enjoy!!

The week leading up to the performance ratings was an eerie time for every tribute. Yes, people were preparing like they had in their games prior- but no one really wanted to. You, especially, found yourself talking to the likes of Katniss and Peeta more than spending time flinging around a sword, or learning how to properly start a fire. But when Mags, the sweet lady from Finnick’s district, approached you, you felt willing to learn some sort of skill from her-- even if it was just tying a knot.

There was no real dialogue during your conversation, but it was important nonetheless. She’d been in the games right after Lucy- you’d remembered that. You could tell she knew something-- wanted to say it too, something important. The look he gave you, shiny eyes staring into yours. She motioned to your face, a light motion. It took you a second to understand her notions, but then… She wanted you to sing. Of course! Lucy had been every girl’s idol, you knew that for certain. The girls would listen to her sing, mesmerized by such a voice as hers. Not only a year later that voice was taken from them- unexpectedly, when she’d gone missing. It would be no surprise that Mags had heard Lucy sing.

“Oh… sure, Mags. You might know this one-- it’s something she used to sing.”

Mags gave you a light smile, gesturing for you to start. You normally would be standing on the Covey’s rickety old stage, guitar in hand. But despite that you swallowed, briefly looking around before starting to sing quietly. You felt Mag's cold hand grab yours, increasing your comfort.

You're headed for heaven, the sweet old hereafter

And I've got one foot in the door

But before I can fly up, I've loose ends to tie up

Right here, in the old there-before

You continued singing, the lyrics slipping easily from your tongue. You smiled, the feeling of performing coming back to you after so long of silence. These games had momentarily taken your will to sing, and now that you’d started you didn’t want to stop- like a bird flying for the first time.

When I'm pure like a dove

When I've learned how to love

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

You smiled at Mags, finding an endearing look on her face- a small tear dropping from her wrinkled face. To your side were the lovebirds- one Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, sitting on a bench facing you with an awed expression on their faces. Johanna Mason stood behind them, a smile and raised eyebrows towards you adorning her features. She started walking towards you, passing the recent winners before coming to a stop in front of you.

“I knew you could sing, Songbird- but wow. You certainly are a showgirl in my eyes.”

An arm was wrapped around you from your left. “Mine too. You were phenomenal, darling. What song was that?”

Johanna rolled her eyes from in front of you, crossing her arms in the process. “Don’t you have something’ better to do, Odair?”

Finnick let out a laugh, almost a giggle, leaning his head on your shoulder. “What, didya think you were Y/N’s only fan? That’s not really possible, with the talent she’s got.”

You smiled at both of them, unaware of the arising tension. A stare off match was now occurring, though out of your view point (Finnick’s head being placed almost directly on top of you). “Thank you guys, I appreciate it. Mags wanted to hear something, and I missed the rush of performing, if I’m honest.”

Finnick smirked, something scandalous becoming his next bright idea. “You know you can also get an adrenaline rush if you-”

Attention tributes-- please begin to prepare yourself for the performance rating process. Similar to prior years, you will be placed in order of district. The male tribute will start, followed by the female tribute of the same district. Note that these scores will give you more opportunities to gain help from outside sources- please keep that in mind during your scheduled time. Good luck.

Suddenly flung out of your performing-induced daze, you sighed, shaking your head. The others, too, seemed to be awoken from any prior confort they’d been feeling. Now, all they felt was the dread they’d felt those years before. What hope they’d had before, if any, had vanished at the prospects of the ratings.

Everyone was then, in a mannerly order, district by district, taken to a confined room, steel walls surrounding. Benches had been placed for the tributes' comfort, but most of everyone who was able found themselves pacing, awaiting their turn in the larger room directly attached to the ones they found themselves in. You, however, stood quietly in the left corner of the space, farthest from the door. Johanna, who’d been pacing like the others, noticed you, and walked over before slumping against a wall near you. She stared, her eyes tracing your face. She gave you a look. A sympathetic one, letting you know she knew how you felt. She didn’t say anything, though. She simply grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. While the movement itself was quick and rushed, the feeling was soft and sweet. Neither of you said anything, caught in your own thoughts. It was enough to have someone to be with for the time being. Enough to have someone who knew what you were going through. The two of you continued to hold hands, occasionally brushing a thumb across the other's skin for some sort of momentary comfort.

Every once and a while the doors to said room would open, and the next tribute would enter. You watched as Finnick’s name got called, winking your way before entering. Shortly after, it was Johanna’s turn. She looked over at you, giving you a somber smile, slightly swaying your attached hands. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze, before letting go. It was a sweet moment. With a sweet girl. There was no doubt that you felt nervous about this new feeling. But there was no time for that. The comforts of crushes and romance were stripped away at the prospects of The Games. But it was nice to enjoy this while you could. No matter what happened, you knew. You knew that there would only be one victor. Last year, with Katniss and Peeta, it had been an exception. One that had left the Capital with a mess to clean up. Meaning, in all reality, it would never happen again. Meaning that whatever could grow between you and a tribute wouldn’t. You hated the games for that. It took away your chance to live. You hated Snow more than anything. He’d been the cause, and that was one thing you knew for certain. No matter how the games started, Snow continued it. He fought to bring them something of mass entertainment, so sure of himself. And dear Lucy Gray. She was gone because of him, too. The amount of pain he’d caused for so many years was unimaginable. There were so many people dead under his account. The Covey were never a violent type of people in any respect. But when it came down to it, they were a stubborn group. They would do anything if they put their minds to it. They’d insist on change till they got it. So, in some respects, their stubbornness could be so much worse than some violence in the eye of a challenge.

With your partner's turn ending, you arose from your spot, making your way to the open door. With a breath, you put on that charming smile of yours, entering the examination room. The glass room above held many familiar faces. That main one, however, being Snow.

“I’m supposed to be showing you guys a skill… right? Like demonstrating it for you?” You knew the answer, of course, with the many weapons adorning the room. You looked around, finding axes, swords, spears, and much more. “Too bad there’s no guitar… that’d really show my skills, right?” You looked up at that box, that same smile still on your face, never wavering. “Well… I guess that doesn't really matter, does it? Acapella would do nicely in such a big room like this one. This one’s been sung without any of those instruments before, too, so it’ll be no problem, really!”

“Ms. L/N I suggest you move along with whatever you’re planning. You are on a time constraint, after all,” commented Snow from above. While his voice largely held a tone of annoyance to it, there was also a hint of something else. A warning, maybe.

“Why of course, Mr. Snow! I’ll get a move on with it right away. Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.” You said, your smile slightly wavering before gaining its same previous shine. You gave yourself the briefest of moments before looking directly at Snow, starting to sing.

And I'll be along when I've finished my song

When I've shut down the band

When I've played out my hand

When I've paid all my debts

When I have no regrets

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

This was your talent. Your skill. Back home, this is what kept your family alive. With this being brought up earlier, with Mags, it was the perfect song to sing. Perfect because it was your relatives. Perfect because it had been her song of rebellion. Perfect because Snow knew it by heart, and remembered, too, who it had been. It was showing, too. His face was redder than normal, and his face pulled into a deeper frown.

And I'll catch you up

When I've emptied my cup

When I've worn-out my friends

When I've burned out both ends

When I've cried all my tears

When I've conquered my fears

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

You bowed, like you normally did when the song finished. “Thank you for your time.” You smiled up towards your small audience and left without another word. As you left on the opposite side you’d entered, you saw Peeta on the other side. He had a smile on his face. He nodded towards you before you exited through the door. Upon exiting, you noticed the multitude of faces looking up towards you. Many had smiles, for doing what you did. For standing up. It wasn’t much, but it meant something to the people who had little left to hope for. You found your way to Johanna, Finnick following behind you.

“Well, Covey girl. I’m not sure how much the singing will do for you in the area, but I know I liked it.” Finnick said with his usual smirk adorning his face.

“Honestly, Odair. Think about it. It’ll help more than you think.” She gave him a look that you didn’t quite understand. There seemed to be some sort of understanding between the two, despite their constant bickering.

Finnick crossed his arms around his chest, looking towards you. “Hm. I guess you have a point. Y/N, if you promised to sing me some lullabies in the arena every night, I’d promise to keep you safe. I mean, I’d do that for you anyway, but it’d be an added benefit for sure.” He laughed to himself, before walking away. “Think about it, Covey!” he yelled out.

“Really, Songbird, it does mean more. It was really powerful. Just look at everyone else in here. They needed something to break the routine like that.”

“Thank you Johanna. It meant more to me too…”

ahhh ok so I hope you liked it pookie!! it was mostly just me yapping on, but I hope you got the general idea of it!!

ps: I’m open to any requests (check my most loved post for ideas <33) so if anyone wants to send anything feel free to do so!! thanks ❤️❤️

tag list (my beloveds 😍):

@randomgurl2326

@marvelescvpe

@h-kitty-world

love ya!!

#the hunger games #tbosas #finnick odair #finnick x reader #the covey #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #tbosbas #ok so I’m definitely excited to get back on that tumblr grind #there’s so many different things I want to talk about it’s absolutely crazy #like dunc 2???#love it so much ahhh #anyways I’m going to bed #goodnight pookie wookie!!

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