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

gigglemonster

March 27 2012, 14:36:16 UTC 4 years ago Edited:  March 27 2012, 14:36:26 UTC

johanna/finnick, i heard that you like the bad girls, honey, is that true?
katniss/haymitch tell me the story of your life, and how you thought you would never fail
katniss/finnick i need a reminder that i'm human
haymitch, victors!cato/clove; sorrow found me when i was young; sorrow waited, sorrow won.
ooh. i will be back for this.

electrumqueen

4 years ago

redbells

4 years ago

electrumqueen

4 years ago

sing_song_sung

4 years ago

rumpledlinen

4 years ago

azelmaroark

4 years ago

haymitch(/katniss). i tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim.
katniss/finnick and i've found that i am not so strong
nguh
katniss/haymitch, and she came to be with her own
i love thissss.

hothobbit

4 years ago

cato/clove, i'm glad you came

jada_jasmine

March 28 2012, 03:08:09 UTC 4 years ago Edited:  March 28 2012, 03:08:29 UTC

and we’re off to the races. cato/clove. r. 1/2



Cato turned eighteen on a cold day in the winter.

His hand-to-hand combat teacher swings at him and Cato ducked too late. The knuckles hit a perfect spot on his cheekbone and he felt the bone crack underneath his skin.

Cato dropped to the floor and his teacher pulled him up again, said, “You only have a year left to get better at this, Cato,” before dropping him off at the hospital wing.

He wakes up to Clove in the chair next to him, carving her initials into his hospital bed, humming something low and repetitive.

“Hairline fracture,” she said casually when his hand went up towards his face, “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you.”

Her mouth split into a smile and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t look so smug,” he leered, “it doesn’t agree with you.”

She laughed at that, her fingers splayed open on his forearm,

“Happy birthday, Cato,” she trilled into his ear, those small hands everywhere, “What are you gonna wish for?”

Cato, disgruntled and disappointed, said, “For you to go away.”

Clove narrowed her eyes into slits and something turned in his stomach.

“As you wish,” she spat.

Before she left, she leaned in to kiss him but instead she pressed the heel of her palm to the fracture and pressed down, hard.







Clove says, “If you kill me,” and Cato laughs.

“If?” he says, his arms behind his head, the sun beating down on them warm and gentle.

If,” she repeats, running a finger down his flexed bicep, “you should do it with your hands.”

Cato sits up on his elbows and shields his eyes to look towards her. Clove is ripping out grass by the handful, her blade flat on the ground. He only sees the one tucked into her boot after looking for it.

The wind whistles around them, sharp, and blows her hair into her face. Cato can only see the small point of her chin, the slope of her nose, the apples of her cheeks flushed pink. She almost looks her age.

“Not with a knife?” he asks curiously, nodding towards the bulge in her sock. Clove sighs and reaches out, grabbing his hand in her own, admiring it briefly in the afternoon light before letting go.

Her mouth smiles and she says, “No. Those are mine.”

And then, a moment later, “If you touch them, I’ll kill you.”







The tent is quieter with just the two of them, with everyone else dead or hiding.

Clove sleeps with her head on his chest and her hair spills, dark and silky, along his shirt.

She wakes up one night to one of his hands holding onto the ends of her braids, the other spread wide on her lung.

“So,” she teases, eyes sparkling and lips pink, “you kinda like me, huh?”

There’s something dangerous in the corners of her mouth, her smile wider than usual, her teeth flashing pointed and even whiter.

Cato’s hand falls from her lungs to the tie around her pants; Clove audibly gasps when he unties it carefully.

“I guess you could say that,” he growls, and it sounds menacing in the early light of dawn. It sounds driven mad with lust, it sounds almost perverse. It sounds like the farthest thing from love he could manage.

jada_jasmine

4 years ago

beethemonster

4 years ago

sing_song_sung

4 years ago

azelmaroark

4 years ago

haymitch/katniss. he shows her how to explode.
Owww

chimneysmoke

March 27 2012, 15:47:45 UTC 4 years ago Edited:  March 27 2012, 16:43:01 UTC

katniss & johanna or enobaria, jennifer's body au
hahahaha sorryimnotsorry this is so crack-y
johanna/gale, it's okay; we're both thinking of other people
CALLING THIS ONE. Also doing another one of yours atm I think. STAY TUNED.

casterlys

4 years ago

prettywitch

4 years ago

chimneysmoke

4 years ago

a_fallen_girl

4 years ago

weekendsinner

4 years ago

johanna, blight, he wasn't much, but he was from home
Uhh, do you mind if I snag this prompt? :D

casterlys

4 years ago

chipsplease

4 years ago

kolms

4 years ago

chipsplease

4 years ago

thewindwarns

4 years ago

chipsplease

4 years ago

johanna/finnick, he will not go forward without her
ughhh. will never understand how people don't ship this.

casterlys

4 years ago

jada_jasmine

4 years ago

missedshapes

4 years ago

johanna, when there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire
katniss/any. fighting fire only gives you ashes.
cato/clove, Lousy lovers pick their prey / But they never cry out loud
Fleetwood Mac prompt yesssssssss

poppypickle

March 27 2012, 16:22:48 UTC 4 years ago Edited:  March 27 2012, 16:23:46 UTC

Johanna/Gale, MJ or post-MJ, I guess that I, I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart
this is perfect.

poppypickle

4 years ago

Johanna/Gale

Come on skinny love, just last the year
Pour a little salt, we were never here
My my my. My my my. My my.
Do want.

_ark_angel_

4 years ago

poppypickle

4 years ago

_ark_angel_

4 years ago

gale/katniss

"did you love me?"
"yes. especially now."
after, after; gale/katniss; pg-13

After Prim dies, after a time of mourning, of forgiving, she goes to him.

He's still as handsome as when he was young and she's nothing and everything like the girl from before.

She stares at him for a long moment, and then smiles, holding out her arms.

He hugs her, pulling her close, breathing her in, and she lets herself relax, lets herself fall against him, into him.

"I've missed you," she wishes, because she can say things like that, now, in the space between one breath and the next, when he's holding her as though they're young, again.

He's quiet. When he responds, it's almost contemplative, though the words are simple. "You, too, Catnip."

She pulls away and smiles at him, properly. "You're leaving," she says, then, because she can see it in his eyes.

He nods, looking down. "I just - I can't be here. Not with -"

"Peeta," she says, because she remembers, too, remembers a time with Gale. "I -" she starts, but the time for apologies is long past, and so she simply falls silent.

"I just have a question. Can you answer me that?"

She nods, and they're still standing so close, a breath's length apart.

"Did you love me?" This is soft, the question of a child, of someone who hasn't seen as much as Gale has; but she understands why he has to ask, gets that he needs this.

She does, too.

"Yes," she says, and the words spill from her mouth without her involvement, "I did, I loved you, Gale. Love you still, can't see that stopping - but - Peeta - he just -" and she cuts herself off, shaking her head, sharp.

He smiles, then, and it seems more real. "I know."

And when he leaves, it doesn't hurt.
prim, johanna, phoenix
cashmere/gloss. our hands rest together like pieces of paper but they're always blank.