you beautiful tropical fish (kolms) wrote,
you beautiful tropical fish
kolms

[ ficathon ] the girl on fire

Tags: book: hunger games trilogy, ficathon!
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cato/clove; a kiss with a fist is better than none
sacrifice
cato/clove

You make certain sacrifices to be a career. Her father told her this. She made them all, because she wants to win like she wants for air. The sharp edge of a blade is her only friend and victory her only lover. She can hit a target from any angle. She has already killed for this. It's discouraged, hushed up, but it happens. They train killers after all. They would hardly be successful if no one had ever been killed within their halls.

The kill is messy. Messier than anything she'll do once in the Games. Her cold flat eyes pointed into a crowd as she slits the girl's throat. She sees Cato as the hot, burning blood pulses out onto her hands. The girl is thrashing, gurgling, fingers still scrabbling for Clove's hands. Clove doesn't notice, just returns Cato's stare. She wants this, she wants the win. She has made the sacrifices.

She hates him.

For Cato, things come easily. She will never be able to gain that much muscle mass. She will always have to compensate for her size with speed and cruelty. Cato can afford to be charming, because he hefts a sword with ease. Clove can not afford such luxuries, she must be as cold as her knives. Cato can see this too, mocks her for it with charming smiles and makes eyes at the pretty ones when she's around. Cato is a sure bet, Clove will have to tear this opportunity from the hands of her competitors.

The girl was not her only kill. There are certain sacrifices. Her mother could ruin everything. If she tells them of Clove's disease, her secret weakness, it will all be over and Clove will never get her chance. She won't be a meteor, just a girl with no heart slipping into death. Her mother's bones are delicate, snap and break beneath Clove's young hatred. Some day Clove's bones will be that weak, they share this, but not yet. For now it is all held at bay, for now Clove still has her youth. So she silences the cries her mother makes and breaks her neck.

Love was the easiest of her sacrifices, because the look in Cato's eyes is not love. Cato devours all he touches, he burns bright and consumes everything around him. Only Clove can skirt around the edges of his charisma, the edges of his confidence. Only she holds enough cruelty to balance his smiles. She takes her victory, wrests it from the eager grasping hands of the other girls. She laughs in their jackal faces and packs her knives to practice.

In the Capitol Cato circles District 1 like a planet in orbit. Clove counts herself a fool for having fallen for just one of his thousand smiles, for thinking it was them against the world finally. No, there will always be competition. She will always have to kill for what she wants. She watches District 1 with flat eyes. She takes it out in practice, knows that Cato watches her then because now he has to fear her knives.

He breaks only once, catches her jaw with a punch that rocks her back. Always with the brute strength. She stumbles only once, ducks beneath the stretch of his arms and slides in close to press her knife to his throat. Her eyes flash and she finds his fear, "Save it for the games," she says, hisses, spits, laughs. Cato smiles, swallows his fear, looks her in the eye. In another life she would have taken everything she wanted from him, but she can't afford it now. So she steps back, licks the blood of her mouth and promises she'll take it in his blood, in his life, tomorrow. She knows how to sacrifice.

heliconian_julz

5 years ago

morbidmuse

5 years ago

Gale + Buttercup - he arrives at District 2 with nothing but a mangy old cat that reminds him of two girls he once knew.
Katniss - i don't like walking around this old and empty house
good prompt. (just got back from their show!)

insideways

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

xx_pinkstar

March 25 2012, 00:47:40 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 01:12:58 UTC

Gale/Katniss - and she burns like the sun, but I can't look away

xx_pinkstar

March 25 2012, 00:48:51 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 00:51:22 UTC

The Careers - Poor Unfortunate Souls
Yesssssssssssssss

azelmaroark

5 years ago

very_wilde

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

xx_pinkstar

March 25 2012, 00:50:47 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 00:51:38 UTC

Cato/Clove - and I'm feeling good
HOGWARTS AU. - TROLOLOLOL. IDEC WHAT/WHO. JUST SOMEONE PLEASE DO THIS FOR ME.
I... I think I have to do this one.

xx_pinkstar

5 years ago

mushu_9701

5 years ago

nitro26

5 years ago

silently_forgot

March 25 2012, 00:56:20 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 00:56:32 UTC

Cato, you're not as brave as you were at the start
(Agh, I'm really not sure about this because I'm really rusty but the movie gave me so many Cato feelings and this felt like a good way to vent them, lol.)
------
In the beginning, there were no doubts.

When he volunteered, he did so with a smirk upon his face. This was the moment he'd been born for. Cato had first held a knife at eight, a spear at nine, a machete at eleven. He'd been fashioned and molded in to one of the most lethal killers (or would-be killer, had the directors at District 2's training centre ever let him actually kill anyone) that Panem had ever seen, he was sure of that. When he saw the rest of the tributes, it was all he could do to keep from smirking again. They all watched him with terror in their eyes as he stabbed one, two, three dummies in the training centre through the heart, the throat, the skull. Many of the others would be still made nervous by the sight of blood, he knew (they'd be dead immediately once their blood stained his knives anyways) and he knew even if they had a competitor pinned, they'd yield at the beg of the beaten. Their capability of mercy would be their weakness.

Mercy was a quality Cato had never known; he had been trained to fight without it. Kindness merely got you killed in the end. Cato had been taught to inspire fear in people was your best route to survival, and inspire fear he certainly did. He made certain people were afraid of him, that they knew he could send a spear through their throat or bury an axe in their bowels without flinching, because he was simply meant to do it. He was a born and bred killer who would win his victories with the blood of the weak staining his fingers and a sword locked tightly in his fist.

It wasn't until the end that his confidence wavered. As each tribute was picked off one by one, he knew he was simply one step closer to being a victor, to becoming what his whole life had been building up to. The moment when President Snow placed the crown on his head would be the second sweetest victory of his life, right after the moment when he murdered the last tribute standing and was the only one left in the arena, coated with blood and dirt and sweat. He could not imagine a greater feeling than the euphoria that would surely strike him once he was declared the victor.

But the fact that two of the few remaining were the District 12 tributes threw him. He'd expected them to both be easy targets, despite her surprisingly high score in training (he'd told himself that it would be even more hilarious when she died, that the sister she'd essentially given up her life for would have been given so much hope for naught, because how could a hopeless case from District 12 ever beat someone such as himself?). He brushed his concerns aside at first, reminding himself of how easy his kills so far had been. Killing two District 12s would be a cakewalk when it came to it.

(He constantly brushed aside worries that maybe, just maybe, they've made it this far because they can actually fight, something that could not be said for many of his other kills.)

The body armour the Capitol sent him bolstered his faltering confidence before the mutts they sent quickly tore it back down again. It was only then that Cato began to understand the Capitol's own game. He believed himself lethal, a killer trained and destined for victory, only to realize that he was no more than a puppet in the Capitol's greater game. He was only who he was because the Capitol had wanted him to be from the very start. The District 12s were fighters just as he had feared (for he'd admit now that it was fear; Cato no longer felt invincible as he had before) and trying to fight them as well as the muttations off was too much for even him. He, who had believed himself one of the most lethal killers that Panem had ever seen. It had taken him ages to realize he was simply another lamb for the slaughter, when he'd thought for so long that he was the one made to do the killing.

And with the thought of victory now seeming like nothing more than a childish hope, brutal, bloody Cato begged for mercy as the mutts dragged him down and tore him limb from limb.

honorh

5 years ago

century_fox

5 years ago

Katniss/Foxface, now your world is here, watch it disappear
yes pleeeease, all the foxface fic!

doreyg

5 years ago

rodlox

5 years ago

Katniss/Peeta || they were kids that I once knew (dead hearts are everywhere)
gale/peeta: waiting to exhale
Katniss/Peeta || and my soul is a dark place but I know your love, I know your love
I might take a whack at this one! Here's hoping!

xx_pinkstar

March 25 2012, 01:13:24 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 01:13:33 UTC

Cato/Foxface - “If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.”
best prompt ever oh my gosh

xx_pinkstar

5 years ago

helena_13

5 years ago

missedshapes

5 years ago

Finnick || the devil stood there drenched in sand

Deleted comment

heliconian_julz

5 years ago

prettywitch

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

The Avox || and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones
Peeta or Annie || you've got a warm heart, you've got a beautiful brain but it's disintegrating
Cato or any tribute, neither wind nor rain care for bravery

chimneysmoke

March 25 2012, 01:35:54 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 01:43:19 UTC

haymitch/katniss, baby's on fire / better throw her in the water / look at her laughing / like a heifer to the slaughter, bonus points for quarter quell setting

chimneysmoke

March 25 2012, 01:37:57 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 01:38:08 UTC

cato/clove, i fink u freeky and i like you a lot
omfg this prompt is the best thing i have ever seen

heliconian_julz

5 years ago

glasslights

5 years ago

chimneysmoke

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

peeta/katniss | Nothing has changed cause I'm still fact - she's fiction
can I take this one?? This is such a lovely prompt :). Thank you! might write it when I'm free...

tomlinsons

5 years ago

the_aprilpie

5 years ago

Thresh || you're just in time to save a life
Ack. It's been forever since I've written anything, so keep that in mind. My apologies if it shows.


********

The cornucopia gleams in the morning sun, but I hardly notice, all my attention on the blood-battle that rages a few feet away. The girl from district two has Fire Girl pinned down. She's saying something, and I lean in, trying to make out the words 'round the breeze movin' through the grain. Clove's voice is low and mean, and the hairs at the back of my neck rise against it, but I don't move. Instead I wait. Grams taught me that.

"Hain't no fight worth fight'n that won't wait awhile," she always says.

I don't want to fight. Gonna have to soon. I know that. But not yet. Now I wait. And listen.

Then Clove says something that makes my blood rise up and curls my fists tight. She says she killed Rue. Sweet little Rue, who sang us home from the fields every night. Rue, who always had a ready smile, even when her face was streaked with grime and her back was bent nigh to breaking 'neath a hundred 'weight of grain. Rue, who scampered through the trees like a two-legged squirrel and made us laugh away our cares.

"You're gonna have'ta kill," Grams had said after the reaping. "You're gonna have to kill, lest you be killed. And I don't think I could stand that." There'd been tears in her eyes, but she hadn't let them fall. She was strong, his grams. "You wait," She'd said again. "You hide, and you wait, and when you have to, when there ain't nobody left but you and one other ..." She looked away for a moment, then back. Her fingers tightened hard 'round his. He could still feel them there; see them, too, the knuckles thickened with age and hard work. She'd looked him right in the eye, and when she'd gone on, her voice had been low and fierce.

"When it's just you and one other; that's when you fight."

I don't want to disappoint Grams. But Clove had said something about Rue being Fire-Girl's ally, and if that's true, I got a debt to pay. Gram's knows about debts, too. She hate's 'em. Says you can't hold your head up high so long as you owe somebody.

And the way I figure it, if Fire Girl took on Rue as an ally, maybe even protected her for a little bit ... well, it seems to me I owe her for that.

"I gotta do somethin' Grams," I say out loud. "I gotta do it for Rue. You understand, don't you?"

I don't wait for an answer, but as I start forward, I think I hear Gram's voice.

"Only one time you can break the rule against fight'n, Thresh. Only one. And that's when you're protectin' somebody else."

"I'm early, Grams." I say it in my head as the wind whistles past my ears. Clove doesn't see me, yet. And maybe she won't. She's all focused on that girl and that knife she's playin' with. I scoop up a rock as I run, and look up to see that Clove still hasn't noticed me. My gaze narrows on the back of her neck. Sunlight gleams on the knife. I squeeze the rock tight.

"I'm early, but I think maybe I'm just in time to save a life."

heliconian_julz

5 years ago

wanderinghope

5 years ago

cashmere/gloss, we came into the world together, we belong together.
yessssssss

sister_wife

5 years ago

maerhys

5 years ago

sister_wife

5 years ago

dracaryss

5 years ago

electrumqueen

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

haymitch/katniss or haymitch/peeta. a nightly encounter on the train.
Second this, omg yes

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

_ark_angel_

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

cashmere/gloss
we're rotten fruit
we're damaged goods

miawkitten

March 25 2012, 13:13:45 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 13:29:44 UTC

we might not make it home tonight, cashmere/gloss

Her nails have been bitten down to raw flesh and blood but her eyes never leave the screen, even though her whole body is aching for rest. Here, in the real world, in the Capitol, the sun is shining bright and there’s more than a little excitement in the air. There though…there it’s dark and storms are rising, all designed to flood the arena, to bring the remaining tributes together.

Only two left now, she thinks and her hands shake a little. He’s going to make it. He has to.

There’s a flicker at the edge of the screen and she moves in closer, teeth chattering even though it’s sweltering in the viewing rooms. The sight of familiar blonde hair makes her chest ache with longing and it’s hard to keep herself from clawing at the glass, trying to get closer.

Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive. You promised.

She’s not sure who screams louder when the axe meets wrist.

-

They don’t let her see him before his surgery, no matter how much she simpers and smiles - the one thing the Capitol taught her well. So she waits, again, head resting against the wall, wondering if he felt like this when she was a Tribute fighting for her life.

She remembers the fierce embrace he gave her as she stepped off the train, bruises shaped like fingers on her arms when he finally let go. You came back, he whispered then. For you, she answered. When finally she gave in and cried, he merely held her closer, promising that this is it, the end, you’re not going back.

You lied, Gloss. I was in there the whole time with you.

-

She hears her name announced through speakerphones and it’s almost enough to drive her mad. No, not again, not a third time, it’s not fair.

But then someone grips her hand tight, locking their fingers together, and she turns to see her brother, the smallest of smiles playing at his lips.

Cashmere wonders briefly which will be easier, killing him or dying.

She decides it doesn’t matter in the end.

magic_knickers

5 years ago

sister_wife

5 years ago

dracaryss

March 25 2012, 01:51:52 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 02:19:59 UTC

johanna/katniss, we take what we need