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