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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  • 5263 comments
gale/katniss, pour a little salt, we were never here
my kingdom for a supernatural!au!
OH MY GOD SPN AU WHAAAAT

electrumqueen

5 years ago

familiardevil

5 years ago

electrumqueen

5 years ago

familiardevil

5 years ago

electrumqueen

5 years ago

vinylroad

5 years ago

vinylroad

5 years ago

untitleddemo

5 years ago

vinylroad

5 years ago

untitleddemo

5 years ago

lissomelle

5 years ago

vinylroad

5 years ago

lissomelle

5 years ago

electrumqueen

5 years ago

vinylroad

5 years ago

cinna/finnick, just keep swimming
cato/glimmer or marvel/glimmer
we're under the sheets
and you're killing me
marvel/glimmer;when did your heart go missing?
He couldn't find her anywhere even after he called her in the arena, which was a risk enough. He knew that he was acting protective, but Glimmer was his. Or at least he wanted her to be his. In the arena though, the alliances were already made. They allied with district two, with Cato and Clove. He thought Cato was vindictive from the start, but he had no place to argue. He just wanted Glimmer with him.

He stayed by the rocks of the stream. If he left that area, he'd be bound to die from dehydration. He knew that the rest of them probably went back to the cornucopia by then. He knew it was time to start walking back. He didn't want to be thought of as a traitor when he was trying to keep himself and Glimmer alive.

By the time Marvel made it back to the camp-site, it had become nightfall, and their dinner was ready. He greedily ate; the days in the woods were taking a toll on him, and the way Glimmer was hanging on Cato like a lost puppy was eating at his last nerve. She could at least act like she was going to be loyal to her district, or fight for what she believed in. What would she do next? Sleep in Cato's tent? Agitated, Marvel went into his sleeping bag for the night.

~*~*~

A significant amount of time later he heard a zipper pull. His head shot up from his sleep, when he saw a blonde girl. Just Glimmer. His Glimmer. He smiled as she scooted next to him.

"You're awfully chummy with the other tributes." He began. Was that jealousy on his voice? He scoffed internally. It wasn't the time to be thinking of that.

"Don't worry Marvel." She shot that smile at him, catching him off guard. "I'm making friends so we can stay alive for now. Be thankful that I was here the whole day. They thought you were going to find Girl on Fire all by yourself."

He shrugged. "She doesn't mean that much to me. She isn't what I want." He smirked and looked at her, slowly inching himself towards her. His lips pressed into her jaw and she let out a content sigh as he pressed light kisses down to her chin, then up, to find the soft pink of her lips.

She kissed him back eagerly, returning the kiss with force and happiness. It had been a while since they had actually been alone, and they had a lot of re-acquainting to do with each others mouths.

~*~*~

Slightly dishevelled in appearance and despite both of their lips being swollen, Glimmer had gingerly accepted the opportunity to lay her head on Marvels chest. His heartbeat steadied when she was around, making him feel lighter, despite the situation they found themselves in.

"I'd consider us the star crossed lovers, you know." She smiled, looking into his eyes. "It's a shame that one of us won't make it."

He looked at her, unsure of the meaning of her words. Glimmer, though being mean and snotty her entire life, had never been vindictive and cutting like her words were now. He felt slightly uncomfortable in her presence but the love of his life was still in there somewhere.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there is only one victor Marvel. Plus we have to get Girl on Fire soon. Cato said he wanted to move out tomorrow to go and find her. She's got to be close."

"She can't be the only thing you care about right now Glimmer." Marvel said, trying to get a word into her. "Girl on Fire isn't important for survival. Keeping yourself alive is. You can't look at people as game."

She sighed, moving her head from his chest. "I'm going to rest now Marvel. You should try to also. The mines are strong enough to keep anyone away." She rolled far away from him, closing her eyes.

Marvel wondered if she was losing her human qualities, becoming more animalistic. That made him worried.

mouse_ear

5 years ago

marvel/glimmer;Who shot that arrow in your throat?
Who missed the crimson apple?
It hung heavy on the tree above your head.
omg this soooooong! i need need need.

mouse_ear

5 years ago

withdrawnred

5 years ago

mouse_ear

5 years ago

Careers, they painted up your secrets with the lies they told to you / and the least they ever gave you was the most you ever knew
glimmer, clueless au.
seriously someone just give me a 90s teen flick starring Glimmer.
wowowowowowowowowowowowowwowow so awesome i don't even have words

miss_mady

5 years ago

a_fallen_girl

5 years ago

capitol_barbie

5 years ago

a_fallen_girl

5 years ago

Cato/Clove, we've always had bad timing
Cato/Clove, we've always had bad timing

“Hey, hey,” he says when they’re sitting on the train, watching their District slide from view. His voice is almost soothing, his hands stroking over her hair as she weeps into his chest, though she knows deep down that he’s actually calculating how best to break her neck. “It’s alright. It’s fine. It’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t be so stupid,” she says, though she’s the one that’s broken down like some weakling, and she guesses that he’s disappointed in her. She looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed. “I love you. But I’ll kill you first.”

~

He watches her train, knife flicking after knife, like hummingbirds as they whistle through the air, never missing. She’s better than all of them; him included, definitely better than the District 12 girl or Marvel or District 11. Certainly better than Glimmer, with all her shining light and blonde hair and blue eyes that she bats at him in the vain hope that maybe he’ll spare her. Not likely.

He loves her too, not that that changes anything.

~

She sleeps in his bed and their mentors and their escort says nothing. Perhaps they’ve had tributes like that before, taking comfort in the physical. And they’re quiet, anyway, unobtrusive – they get up at different times, and he doesn’t let himself look at her first, the way her black hair spreads across the pillow and the way that sleep is the only time when she looks truly innocent.

(and he fucks her and she buries her head in his shoulder and bites down hard so that she doesn’t make a noise and also
so she can taste the blood)

~

She’s far more free in the arena, and he’s suddenly far more aggressive, more frightening, and Clove thinks, half admiringly, I wonder if I could beat you? And then they all start to die so quickly, Glimmer (and thank God for that, if only she’d had a chance at that pretty face) and the Lover-Boy (she doesn’t doubt that that wound Cato gave him will kill him) and tiny District 11, until there are hardly any of them left. The rules change actually scares her.

They could both survive, she thinks, almost in horror, their eyes meeting, and then he laughs, deep and raw, and he kisses her hard against a tree, his hand sliding up her thighs, and she wonders if the cameras are focusing on them or the real love story, wherever the girl on fire and lover-boy are.

She never bothered to learn their names.

~

CATO!” she screams and it’s the first time she’s truly managed to scream his name like that, and she can hear him shouting for her and the little girl on fire – Katniss, and boy would she have liked to fuck up that pretty mouth – skips away, skippity skip across the field and away into the woods.

“Stay with me,” he begs. “It’s alright, it’s fine, it’s going to be okay.”

For the first time she feels stronger than him, and she says, “sorry I didn’t kill you first.”

century_fox

5 years ago

psycho_llama

5 years ago

cato/clove, It's a love story for the new age, for the six page
okay, i take it back, THIS is happening, lol.

sing_song_sung

5 years ago

sing_song_sung

5 years ago

sing_song_sung

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

sierrafoxtrot

5 years ago

Hunger Game Tributes - feet don't fail me now/take me to the finish line | we were born to die
Catching Fire AU - The plan to escape into the woods actually happens.


(preferably featuring everyone she planned on taking)

Deleted comment

rough him up and get my hands inside him cato/clove, pg-13? (i think?)

She wakes up with blood on her hands. Slits in her fingers, red on the knife. Fingers to mouth, she sucks them clean. Runs the tip of her tongue across the blade. All clean. The knife is tucked back into her clothing, right where she can reach it at a moment's notice. The tips of her fingers dance across the blade as she looks at him.

"That's stupid," he comments dryly. They are blade on blade, swords clashing and brutality in conflict -- the only two worthy tributes left. The rest are dead, and the remaining tributes are soon to follow. If they don't kill each other first.

She sneers and imagines his skull dashed across the rocks by the riverbed. "Are you saying I don't know what I'm doing?" Lip curls over teeth.

He steps forward. He's like a skyscraper. She should be intimidated, but her blood pumps faster. It courses through her, as good as the rush of slitting someone end to end. The limited resistance flesh gives to a knife is very interesting, you know. She likes it.

"What are you going to do, Cato?" She asks. His eyes glint death and he slowly, slowly, surely, places his left hand on her neck, fingers reaching up to the nape of her hair. Clove laughs. "Oh, you wouldn't dare." A knife slides out of her clothes and presses into his skin. She strokes it across his hip bone, idly tracing the muscle.

"There's no one here to save you," he says - unsure now. She likes that she can do that. This boy is a brute and he's a monster but she's just the same. They're mirror images; and this boy seems to not like what he sees in the mirror.

She scoffs. "Please. Like I need saving. I could kill you right here, right now. Your girl Glimmer is gone; not that she would have been able to watch your back. It's you and me, now. And I can hold my own, so there's no use for all of this. Drop the pretense. You're mine. I could kill you in your sleep."

Clove thinks she hears his heartbeat stop while she's talking. His eyes blink but nothing registers, nothing happens, apart from the increasingly tight grip on her neck. She wonders what colour the bruise will turn, and etches a shallow design into his hip through the fabric of his shirt. His breath hitches with the pain.

Eventually, he responds. His nostrils flare and he licks his lips like he's going in for the kill, but Clove isn't afraid. This is the first time she's seen this calm in him. Poor Cato, she thinks. Finally met his match.

"I'll take you down with me," he says.

"Go ahead."

One, two, three, and Claudius Templesmith's voice booms out across the arena. There's going to be a feast.

miss_mady

5 years ago

johanna/finnick, i tried my best to keep my distance from your dress
Johanna/Finnick, Call-Response, R

He knows he shouldn't.
He knows it's wrong.
He knows there aren't many more times he can show up on her doorstep and charm his way inside without causing irreparable harm.

Still, he knocks.
Still, he brings some wine.
Still, she lets him in.

When he's feeling lonely, when he needs to let the charm fall, she's always there.

Johanna is the type of girl he wants to want to be with. If things weren't so damn complex they might be. But Johanna has guarded walls and reservations and then there's... If he had had the smarts to take things slow, maybe everything wouldn't be so messy, but that's not who he is. He's Finnick Odair, he's fast and he's deadly no matter what the consequences—and there are always consequences.

Johanna lets him rip her clothes from her. Johanna lets him shove her up against a wall and drive inside of her with need.
He lets Johanna claw at his skin. He lets Johanna tell him she loves him as she cums.

They need each other, the two of them. Pre-coital liquor-soaked kisses and post-coital shared cigarettes. Confessions. Heartbeats. They need each other, but he needs Annie too. And his time with Johanna is speeding towards an unspoken expiration but still they press on.

They know they shouldn't.
They know it's wrong.
Still, she lets him in.

casterlys

5 years ago

chimneysmoke

5 years ago

prettywitch

5 years ago

Peeta/Finnick || The first time Finnick’s lips touched his it restarted his heart and saved his life. As did the second, third, and all the times after
Haymitch and Katniss - he cannot play at being her father, the drunk Uncle maybe, but never father.
Finnick/Peeta/Katniss || let's be a team, make him say my name, love in the extreme, so are you game?
I second this, SO much

magic_knickers

5 years ago

Katniss/Annie Cresta || Peeta dies at the hands of the Capitol. Post-Mockingjay, Katniss finds herself slowly filling the void Finnick left in Annie and her baby's life.
Peeta/President Snow || lay your head down, child, i won't let the bogeyman come || early-Mockingjay, with Katniss = the bogeyman, obvs
omg i so need this.

arysani

5 years ago

arysani

5 years ago

withdrawnred

5 years ago

f_o_r_m_a_l_i_n

5 years ago

finnick/victor!glimmer, well baby i'm a put on a show kind of girl
this soooooooooooooo much

softblooded

5 years ago

jada_jasmine

5 years ago

Any of the Victors. You grew up way too fast/Now there's nothing to believe/And reruns all become our history

Deleted comment

Seconded.
Seneca/a tribute - it's against the rules for gamemakers to pick a favorite and swing the Games so he/she survives. but Seneca's never been much for rules. and he needs the taste of this tribute on his tongue.

herosquad

March 27 2012, 01:18:33 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 27 2012, 01:20:01 UTC

seneca/glimmer, break the law to feel your touch



She is beautiful. That fact is undeniable. Those long legs, long hair, long eyelashes that fluttered as she waved at him in the Tribute Parade, visible even from his faraway perch - pink lips that puckered into a perfect heart as she blew him a kiss.

"You know this is against the rules," he says as she leans him back against the doorway of the control room, all heavy eyelids and expertly brushing fingertips.

She doesn't really feel anything for him. He has to remember that. She's already shown that she's all too comfortable playing the seductress to stay alive. Vixen, not victim, that's her style. She's just a little girl, really; seventeen isn't so old after all. A little girl who's been taught that sex is tantamount to survival.

But she lowers her voice to a purr and says, "I know you're never been one for rules, Seneca."

Just a little girl who looks so very grown-up when he makes her gasp through those heart-shaped lips. There's no cameras here. This isn't a performance, not this time.

"I'll be seeing you, then," she says when they finish.

"Yes," he says, smiling. "In the Capitol."

She smiles back.


When she rises into the arena her hair is in pigtails, for God's sake, and it's agony to watch her, watch the replays of her interview, live with the image of that transparent dress in his mind when he knows what lies underneath.

He can't fix the game on her behalf. They'll know; they always know. This happens almost every year. The Head Gamemaker always has a favorite. He's heard the rumors from before his time; stocking the arena with specific weapons and hazards, and expecting repayment after the winner's ceremony (how do you think Finnick Odair got that trident?). There's always one, and he can't risk slipping up. Not so early in his career.


The jacker nest hits her and she's gone in minutes; he breathes a sigh of regret mixed with relief.

withdrawnred

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

withdrawnred

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

withdrawnred

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

prettywitch

5 years ago

yueni

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

Cato/Clove. Marvel continually makes less than gentlemanly comments toward Clove. Cato isn't particularly thrilled but Clove takes care of it before he can even think to. Just give me BAMF!Clove, please.

gherkl

March 27 2012, 00:54:02 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 27 2012, 00:54:26 UTC

katniss/peeta, she dared not breathe, she was so still
Katniss/Peeta, Cover Me With Salt Water, all ages


The only thing she says to me, after dropping her robe and twisting her hair out of way is, “I just don’t want to be the Girl On Fire anymore. Don’t make me into her.”

As if Cinna and the rest of her prep squad actually changed her when she first got to the Capitol. As if she ever wasn’t the spark that lit all of us, that lit Panem and made it burn. Still, I ignore my red and gold paints, and reach instead for the cooler, more soothing colors: aqua and emerald green, deep indigo and soft lavender. The colors of twilight, or maybe of the ocean. How I always imagined the ocean, rather. Until our second arena – the one that was really a clock – I never saw big bodies of water, except on the screen.

She shivers when I touch her with the tip of my paintbrush. I glance down and see the gooseflesh on the backs of her pale arms.

“Do you want me to … not?” The word stop sticks in my throat because I haven’t really started.

She shakes her head.

“Well … okay. But you’ll tell me if…?”

She nods, holding onto her hair, twisting it in her hands like it’s some kind of lifeline, and I swallow and continue.

I paint waves on her back, gentle waves to lap at her bruised and aching body. I paint them with broad strokes, giving them swirls and ripples, then flecking them with white, lacy foam. I paint what’s below the surface, or what I imagine is below it: long, mysterious shadows, glints from sunken treasures. I remember the pearl I gave her on the beach in the arena, and wish that I could capture its shimmer.

While I paint, Katniss just sits there on the edge of the tub. She doesn’t make a sound; I only know she’s breathing because of the shallow rise and fall of her back.

I wish she would say something. When it’s too quiet, I start to imagine we’re not really alone, that we’re being watched or judged by millions of people. I can almost hear their voices, and I tell myself Not real, not real. It’s suffocating, the silence.

And yet, I can’t break it. I’m not brave like I used to be, if I ever really was. I can’t tell her how I feel, or press a kiss into the little hollow at the base of her skull.

At least she lets me hold her sometimes, when the nightmares become too horrible. And sometimes she puts her arms around me and holds me until the world falls away and the words This is real, this is real whirl and explode in my head like fireworks.

At least she lets me do this: paint oceans and gems and rainbow fish scales on her back, disguising her, soothing but not quenching the fire that she is.

gherkl

5 years ago

thistlerose

5 years ago

asa_nanica

5 years ago

thistlerose

5 years ago

Careers, instead of frolicking around in the Arena as if they're on a camping trip, actualfax camping trip AU
You know I want this with a burning NEED

azelmaroark

5 years ago

hothobbit

5 years ago

dreamfall_nnwm

5 years ago

morbidmuse

5 years ago

hotpiexoxo

5 years ago