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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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 6 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

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

yueni

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

withdrawnred

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

withdrawnred

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

prettywitch

6 years ago

yueni

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 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 6 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

6 years ago

thistlerose

6 years ago

asa_nanica

6 years ago

thistlerose

6 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

6 years ago

hothobbit

6 years ago

dreamfall_nnwm

6 years ago

morbidmuse

6 years ago

hotpiexoxo

6 years ago

Deleted comment

:o

THIS PROMPT. HOLY MOTHER.

_ark_angel_

6 years ago

_ark_angel_

6 years ago

_ark_angel_

6 years ago

a_fallen_girl

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

_ark_angel_

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

katniss/peeta, we'll be lost before the dawn
Cecelia, keep your head down and keep going
Argh. Seconded. I wish I had the mental fortitude to write this.

thewindwarns

6 years ago

thewindwarns

6 years ago

nicalyse

6 years ago

thewindwarns

6 years ago

downbythebay_4

6 years ago

thewindwarns

6 years ago

stars_inthe_sky

5 years ago

gale/katniss, honey, i'm on fire, i feel it everywhere
peeta/katniss, i'd promised you a heart, you'd promise to keep/kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
this you can keep
pg | katniss/peeta | spoilers through mockingjay

link!
Peeta/Katniss, the one she can't live without
It's a few months after, after it's all over (though it doesn't feel like it's over; it feels like it'll never be over-), after her and Peeta have slowly grown back together (they tried to do as best as they can, jagged edges and all), that she remembers Gale's words.

She'll choose the one she can't live without.

She doesn't think of Gale much, not anymore at least. He'll creep back into her thoughts on occasion, primarily when she's hunting in the woods to get some release, and she'll expect him to sneak up on her like he always used to. But those days are far gone, and she's given up ever expecting them to go back to the way they were. Besides, he's in District 2 now, and she's back at District 12 (she's still hesitant on some days to call it home.)

But one night, she can't sleep. For once, the nightmares aren't the cause. Peeta's arm is draped around her, and he mumbles incoherently in his own peaceful slumber (he's been doing better lately.) But her eyes are still wide open, and her eyes are fixated at the wall. The one she can't live without.

When she heard Gale say it, anger had coursed through her veins. The mere thought that Gale, even Peeta, could think that she would make her choice only based on their usefulness had been...infuriating. She has pushed the memory aside at the time, as there was more important matters to think over. But this was now.

Maybe she had misunderstood the meaning behind Gale's words. Her mind automatically jumped to the previous conclusion, and while Gale had a habit of misjudging her perceptions after the games, it still seemed fairly unlikely that's what he meant. He couldn't think so lowly of her, could he?

She tries to imagine these last few months without Peeta. It seems unimaginable, it's unbearable to even contemplate what they could have been like. Peeta was something of an anchor; how would she have made it by without him? Then she tries to imagine these last few months with Gale, and she feels...nothing.

She could live without Gale.

She can't live without Peeta.

It's that simple.

Just before she has the time to let these thoughts, this possible realization progress, Peeta arms tightened around her. She just leans more into it. It's practically just instinct at this point, for she doesn't even have to think about it doing it.

Maybe this is what Gale meant, she thinks. If so, then she had made the right choice.

forgetregret009

6 years ago

atomic_eyes

6 years ago

Capitol citizens, War. Terrible war. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.
this needs to be written.
peeta and katniss; waking up in your arms/a place to call my own/this is all i ever wanted from life
finnick/annie, i get on the road and ride to you