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

[ ficathon ] the girl on fire

Tags: book: hunger games trilogy, ficathon!
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 5263 comments
cato/glimmer, at once i knew, i was not magnificent
not this story
cato/glimmer

Glimmer is going to die.

She realizes this the moment she takes the time to watch the Reapings. The moment she sees Katniss Everdeen. Katniss is everything that Glimmer is not, she's an underdog. Katniss is beautiful, but doesn't know it. Katniss is deadly, but doesn't like it. Katniss is the heroine of this story. Everyone heroine needs a hero, her partner is both charming and average at the same time.

Glimmer tries to tell Cato this. When he kisses her, she kisses him back and tells him with her hands on his skin. Your time is ticking down angled, broken thing. Your training is a waste, a weakness. Your hatred, now a flaw. He doesn't see it. Can't see it or it wouldn't be much of a story.

She wanted that once. A sweet boy. A bread boy. A hero. But she doesn't get one, because this isn't her story. No, this is Katniss Everdeen's story which means Glimmer is a villian. Has to be. She laughs at death. She kills for sport more than necessity. She loves a boy made out of pride and hatred all twisted up into a human form.

They were made, formed, tortured into weapons. Glimmer's waited her whole life to kill people, been told her whole life it's an honor to do so. Glimmer always thought she could still make it though, everyone wants to be special. She really thought she could do it. But there's no glory in murder and Glimmer doesn't have a cause to fight for. She's a blade with no purpose, a gun with no one to aim her.

So she pulls Cato close with blood on her hands and laughs into his mouth. So she waits for death. Because it isn't her story, never was, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy it while she's still got a part to play.

morbidmuse

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

Katniss/Thresh, words are very unnecessary
cato/clove, the sharp knife of a short life
put on your best, boys, cato/clove, pg-13 (perhaps a tiny bit higher), 1/2




Clove is something of a disappointment.

He knows her, of course. She makes it a bit difficult not to.

She’s his favourite of the girls to tease, because she always snaps right back at him; he’s never known her to miss a single beat. She can always make him laugh.

But he thinks of Clove in future tense. One day, she’ll volunteer and take the Games by storm. One day, that little smirk of hers will turn into something that’ll scare boys and draw them to her all at once. One day, the freckles on her cheeks will be covered with makeup and her braids will be brushed out of her hair, and the Capitol will think she’s beautiful. One day, she’ll return home to Two, a newly crowned Victor, and he will be there waiting to tease, seriously, Clo, was that the best you could do?

One day.

Not now. Not now, he thinks, as she volunteers and walks up on the stage to take her place at his side.

-

She’s four years too early and he tells her as much, twists her arm behind her in the hallway between cars on the train that’s rushing toward the Capitol. She goes rigid but she doesn’t cry out.

“This is a joke,” he says, more petulantly than he means to. “I could kill you right now.”

She jerks her other arm back, her impossibly sharp elbow colliding with his groin, and she spins out of his hold like a parody of a ballerina.

When she pats his cheek, the touch is vicious. “Save it for the cameras, Cato.”

-

The thing is –

The thing is, he’s not so sure that he wants to.

-

He’s had enough training throughout his life, so he can afford to he amuse himself prior to the Games with flirting and showing off; the girl from One is beautiful and the boy from Eleven needs to notice that he’s not the only strong one.

But at night, he dreams about Clove.

He dreams about her skin, covered in blood instead of summer freckles. He dreams about her bright, narrowed eyes, always on alert. He images the life draining out of her.

He wakes up sweaty and unsure.

-

Ladies first, as always, so he watches her go on stage to greet Caesar Flickerman first.

Her dress is pink, the shade that comes before red, and it makes him think of innocence. She is beautiful. The freckles are charming instead of childish, her laugh is breathy instead of sharp. She looks young and sparkling, on the verge of everything.

One day, he thinks, and then he remembers that those days are gone.

[con't]

sing_song_sung

5 years ago

downbythebay_4

5 years ago

joaniemaloney

5 years ago

gale/johanna, a kiss with a fist is better than none
(ahh i made a prompt for a different ship with the same lyric before i saw this, haha sorry)
gale/katniss, there's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever
She doesn’t love Gale.

Doesn’t, but tries to anyway, tries to see herself loving Gale. She always come up empty and it’s better, she thinks, better that way. Gale doesn’t agree, but he keeps his mouth shut, and she thanks him for that, at least. But she can tell, can see it in the way his jaw clenches when he looks at her, the way his hands start to reach for her before stopping.

It’s not because of Peeta, she wants to say, wants to say before he does something rash and stupid and Gale. And it’s not. It’s not Peeta; it’s him. But she knows him, knows he will never understand that, and she keeps her mouth shut, sick of stepping over broken things.

***

They’re in the woods when he says something, and a part of her wants to slap him, wants to be relieved at getting it over with. “Is it real?” he asks quietly, standing over her, holding her bow just out of her reach. She fights it, wants to run, but doesn’t, stands her ground and, on tiptoes, reaches up and plucks her bow from his hands.

“Yes,” she says, because it’s true and she doesn’t want to hurt him, because it’s false and she doesn’t want to hurt him.

She leaves before he can say anything, her footsteps melting away into the fallen leaves.

***

“Why?” he asks finally, standing over her again and she’s getting tired of this, getting tired of getting trapped.

“I don’t know,” she snaps and turns to leave, but his hand is on her arm and she glares at it until he moves back, and she thinks she saw something like desperation in those eyes of his. Because he’s an anchor, she wants to tell him, and you’re a sinking stone. Because he feels like hope, and you feel like revolution. Wants to say, but doesn’t, says instead, “he was there with me, Gale” and her voice is quiet, quieter than he’s ever heard it, and he’s letting go, he’s stepping back, and he’s disappearing.

It’s better this way.

stinabug87

5 years ago

hotpiexoxo

5 years ago

gale/johanna, packed up all my things and all my love and gave it to somebody else
primrose/rory, it's safe behind these stones and ridges, you know how us healin' victims are
gale/katniss, hope you didn't burn too many bridges on your way back to haunt my heart
cato/katniss, the space is drawn too wide between your world and mine
I need this so much omfg

insideways

5 years ago

finnick/johanna, this place where old flames aren't allowed
gale/johanna, we like to be strangers at the party
cato/katniss - cato pretends she's clove; katniss pretends he's peeta
cato/katniss, lips like morphine, r-ish

He catches her hunting.

She was stupid, she was careless, she was distracted, because her ticket out (that's all he is, that's all they are, it's all for the camera's, every kiss, every touch, every night she lies her head on his chest and listens to his ragged breathing and stuttered heartbeat and wills him to life until her body aches with it) is lying in the cave and he's lost, he's somewhere beyond her, someplace she can't reach or get to.

And in the second between turning towards the snapping of a twig and seeing his face, she sees the flash of golden hair, sees the square jaw and her very bones betray her with wanting and she stumbles forward, not wanting to look too close, not wanting the eyes, the nose, the height and build to be wrong, not wanting to destroy this vision of a Peeta without pain, a Peeta whole and unbroken and staring at her like she's the rising sun.

Which is odd, which is strange and wrong, which should be him (the boy whose name she doesn't think, because to think it is to accept that Peeta is dying in that cave) staring at her like his next victim, cold and cruel like that day in the tree, with the others around him, with that slight and slender and sinister girl next to him, dark eyes and dark hair, voice vicious and sharp and telling him to kill her.

Oh. Dark hair, dark like Katniss's, dark between his fingers when he grabs at it, not to yank or to hold her still, but to feel, and it tumbles loose from her braid and it doesn't matter that her eyes are too bright, too blue, or that his face is too angular and sharp and strained, because he doesn't look her in the eye and she doesn't look anywhere at all. Her eyes close, back up against a tree and she suspects who he wants her to be, and that's just fine, because she imagines that Peeta would touch her face, her neck just like this, and Peeta would slide his hands under her shirt and up her back just that gently and Peeta would hold her and kiss her and make her body rise to his in exactly this way if he weren't -- if he wasn't --

And his hands are strong and a little too rough, and he grips a little too hard and makes Katniss gasp and grip and bite back, but that's fine, it's all fine, because the other girl would do this, would scratch and nip and growl and push back just as hard, wild and alive and fierce beneath his hands.

Her suspicions are confirmed when he buries his face where her neck and bare shoulder meet and moans, CloveCloveClove and she thought she could pretend, but she can't anymore, because Peeta would look her in the eye, Peeta would kiss her lips and her cheeks and her neck, Peeta would hold her afterwards instead of pulling back and flushing with exertion and perhaps even shame and leaving her to collect herself against a tree.

Which is why later, clutching the small bag marked 12 and watching Thresh snap the neck of the girl she replaced, Katniss doesn't feel a bit of regret.

classicfreak

5 years ago

f_o_r_m_a_l_i_n

5 years ago

classicfreak

5 years ago

mysticandsevere

5 years ago

f_o_r_m_a_l_i_n

5 years ago

gale/madge, isn't it a pity isn't it a shame, how we break each other's hearts?
Gale/Madge, Needs of Another, hg spoilers

It was always about desperation and loss with them. Their paths crossed out of necessity, and because of her. She was always there, always between them, and then suddenly she was gone.

When Katniss left for the Games, Gale didn't know if he was still expected to bring strawberries to the Mayor's house. But somehow, there was a Sunday, and he was alone, and he found himself amongst the strawberries. He picked them without thinking, his mind filled with blonde hair.

He did all of his other trade firsts. He took in good deals from the Hob, but still left some for his family's and the Everdeen's. For Prim and her mother, no one else there (and there would never be again, would there? He had to accept it, accept it now). The merchant's area of the town always made him uneasy. He hadn't been to the Bakery to sell squirrels since the games. It wasn't that he felt bad for them, but rather the son had a fate like her, and acknowledging it acknowledged other things that he didn't need to deal with, no, not ever now.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see him. The sun was sort of behind him, giving a radiance to his Seam looks that she always admired still. She almost looked to his left, where she always stood, but refused to let her eyes turn there. There was no other person in between them, and now they'd have to deal with each other. She knew she made him uneasy just from the fact that she had stuff, she had money, but it was her family, not her. She was just as poor, more poor in ways that he was rich. The word 'family' stung in her mind, and when he handed her the strawberries she gave twice the amount usual. He didn't question it, though his eyebrows shot up in confusion. She didn't answer him, just tried a laugh, and closed the door. It'd be too much to do more, but to close the door and lock it.

That evening she found him on the sidewalks. He seemed out of place, soot of the Seam covering his Seam looks and so near to the border to the Merchants. He seemed out of place near her, with her well to do hair and well to do clothes, everything right in place. But they found each other that night, and they both realized that what they were looking for was the person in front of them.

She spoke first, and it broke the cold chilling night. "I miss her already." Her words felt a slight soprano in the dark, and he turned sharply at her and wouldn't look away (couldn't).

He shook his head. "She left a long time ago." And he wondered in his mind, if she ever was really around. She was always gone when he knew her, he realized that. He met her after her father died, and she was stuck in the mines with him after that. Not in the way that her mother was, suffocated by the smoke and unable to do anything but exist. Everything of her was because her father died; she was a survivor, but would she be if her father made it out of that day? Or would she laugh, and joke, and be carefree? He wondered, fleetingly, how she'd feel about a future with children if her father came home that day. It was a useless, stupid thought. Both of their fathers died. They wouldn't know each other if their necessity didn't string them together.

Madge brought him back to the present, pressing her hand on his chest. He found it sickening how it seemed that people only seemed to intwine themselves with him out of need. "We both lost her," he said aloud, and his hand clasped around hers. They both lost her, and he realized in that moment that this girl that he never really talked to save for a retort by her doorside every now and then, may be the only one that understands.

Her face was then close to his, too close, and closer ever than Katniss allowed her face to come to his. It hung heavy in his chest, but he pushed it away. She kissed his cheek, light and sunny. "Let's watch the games together, yeah?" Her mouth was just inches from his ear, and he swore he could smell the strawberries.

bloodofpyke

5 years ago

hotpiexoxo

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

hotpiexoxo

5 years ago

chibi_ai

5 years ago

hotpiexoxo

5 years ago

katniss/gale, "We could have had such a damned good time together." "Yes, isn't it pretty to think so?"
THE SUN ALSO RISES

jada_jasmine

5 years ago

electrumqueen

5 years ago

jada_jasmine

5 years ago

peeta/katniss, five times peeta asks katniss to have children and one time she agrees

arysani

March 26 2012, 13:44:45 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 26 2012, 13:46:40 UTC

five and one; katniss/peeta; part 1/3

One.

She hates being affectionate in public. She spent too long faking it that even when it's real, it makes her squirm. But Peeta takes her hand and she lets him because it was a bad morning, for both of them, and he needs this and she can give it to him. They're talking to the grocer's daughter, her stomach swollen with a child ready to be born any day. Peeta asks how she is feeling (ready to have the damn baby), if she has any others (no) and if she hopes for a boy or a girl (a boy because girls are so hard, she knows, she is one). Peeta smiles at her and squeezes her hand, and she pulls her hand from his and makes an excuse to be elsewhere.


Two.

He always has to make a joke, and sometimes she hates that.

"Not that it's any of my business, and I really don't want you to make it my business, but them folks back in the Capitol think it's still my responsibility to watch after you two. At any rate, let me make this quick: there are consequences," he looks pointedly at the two of them, "and I hope you've considered that."

"Oh come on, our kids would be good looking. You have nothing to worry about. We promise not to have ugly babies you don't want to look at. And besides... would that really be so bad? It's possible they'll grow out of it." The question is for her, really, and he looks at her, reaches for her hand on the table and she rises, pulling it away.

"Unlike Peeta, Haymitch, I don't really think two people still taking weekly therapy calls should be having kids," she doesn't look at Peeta, just turns and leaves.


Three.

"If all you wanted was someone to bear your children, Peeta, you should've listened to me!"

"I don't want just anyone's kids, Katniss," he raises his voice a little to compete with hers, but maintains a calm tone. "I want ours. I want a little boy that looks just like you, or two little girls, even, who are everything we can give them. Is it so wrong to want that?"

"It is with me, Peeta. I told you I didn't want kids. If you stuck around because you thought I'd change my mind, you waited for nothing."

"Can you at least give me a real reason?"

"What 'real' reason do you need?! Why does there need to be a reason? I just don't want kids, I never wanted kids, not ever!"

"You don't have to worry anymore, Katniss," he closed the distance between them. "Our children won't get Reaped, they won't have to fight for their lives in any arena. People still remember. We're not going back to that."

"I don't want to be a parent, Peeta. Just...stop. Please. Stop asking."

He pressed his lips together and nodded, reaching for her and pulling her into his body, holding her tightly.

arysani

5 years ago

arysani

5 years ago

arysani

5 years ago

harry_styles

5 years ago

arysani

5 years ago

morbidmuse

5 years ago

arysani

5 years ago

Annie/Finnick, you can sink to the bottom of the sea, just don't go without me
Katniss, she saves the District 8 girl tribute from being killed
katniss/peeta; and up we'll go, in bright light (i don't think so)
haymitch/peeta - you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me

beethemonster

March 25 2012, 00:26:56 UTC 5 years ago Edited:  March 25 2012, 00:38:27 UTC

haymitch/peeta | in the end, what's left? | rating: t | set before the third quarter quell

.

Peeta wakes with the morning sun. The buttermilk skin of his bare hips is peeking up from underneath the sea blue sheets. A thick, heavy arm is slung around his waist, sticky with cool, dried sweat.

I'm doing this for Katniss, he tells himself, he always does. He's here to keep her safe, his not really fiancé, see, not because he longs for these chapped lips to glide across his body, these rough hands to keep him in place and pin him to the mattress.

Staring at the marigold tapestry instead of the warm body he left behind in bed, he pulls on his clothes and tries to leave without another glance. He fails, of course, but that's nothing new.

He already comes back when the day he spent with nothing and nothing but thinking of him loses it's usual fight against the creeping dusk of the night.

There's no how are you or how was your day, there never is, but it's okay. As long as he has the kisses and touches and what they do in the dark, it's okay.

Haymitch seems lost in drunken reverie. A cup of something dangles lopsided from his loose grip. Peeta combs one of his pale pale hands through his hair, like a claw, and he keeps getting caught in thousand little knots.

“God, stop this already,” Haymitch suddenly snaps and pushes his hand aside. His large fingers close around smaller wrists. Peeta doesn't mind being pulled towards the bedroom, pushed into soft soft sheets and pretending it's all about Katniss, remember?

Though pale grey eyes, cutting sharply through the darkness of the sleeping nights and mornings white as diamonds, leave a tiny space for maybe – maybe not.

Still. “Save her, save Katniss and let me die,” he begs, again and again, and stifles all answers with needy kisses he'd never admit to anybody else.

Haymitch is kneeling above him. There's no space between them, their hot bodies, and please please he even presses them closer together.

Peeta licks his wanting lips. His fingers itch with the desire to cling to Haymitch's skin, drown in his thick curls, something. “Do it for me” he whispers, and oh, he should have known better. There suddenly is so much air between them, too much, please.

Haymitch's laugh is hoarse with the anticipation of sex and the hungry kisses they just shared. “You are beautiful, boy, but you don't mean a thing to me, just so you know.”

It seems this really only is about Katniss in the end.

blue_boxes

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

maerhys

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

gigglemonster

5 years ago

beethemonster

5 years ago

Peeta, the boy on fire
want!!
peeta/katniss, was i good to you, the wife of my youth
peeta/katniss, i'm okay once i realize you're here
On some days, Katniss wakes up screaming.

It isn't new. It happens all the time; she should have grown accustomed to it by now. As the years swiftly grace by, the pain lessens. The dreams aren't as frequent (but the scars still ache all the same, she reminds herself every day. Every day.)

The first couple of years after are the most rough. She dreams of the sound of bombs hitting the pavement, everything around blowing into smithereens. She dreams of crying and screaming and dead children, helpless and lost with nowhere safe to go. She dreams of loss, corruption, the games, the arena, of Prim, of the war, of everything that has left some kind of permanent indent on her life. All the dreams are like a reminder, a reminder she doesn't want.

Sometimes she dreams of losing Peeta. It doesn't matter how she loses him in whatever dream she's dreaming. It never matters how he leaves her or how he dies. He's gone all the same, and she wakes up screaming his name. His name echoing through the walls, his name leaving her throat (her throat which is dried up and aching because peeta where is he-)

Then there are arms. Wrapped around her, sheltering her from all the nightmares that plague her. A soft, soothing whisper in her ears. A voice telling her to calm down, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Katniss.

She sleeps a little more soundly after.

miss_mady

5 years ago

stinabug87

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

ellisaco

5 years ago

red_b_rackham

5 years ago

peeta, circa mockingjay
tell me what you know about night terrors;
nothing!

glimmer/cato/clove, my body is sweet like sugar venom
oh my god
i don't think i've ever needed something like I need this to be filled
;dskrs/ljg;dgj

wanderinghope

5 years ago

peeta/katniss, i'm heavy handed to say the least