THE HUNGER GAMES DRABBLE MEME

[redbrunja]

With the release of the finale book of The Hunger Games Trilogy imminent, it seems like an excellent time for a comment meme to whet fandom's appetite. (Plus I just finished my third reread of the first two books and yet still want more!)

So I present.....

THE HUNGER GAMES DRABBLE MEME

How To Play
1. Place a prompt as a comment.
2. Comment with as many prompts as you want. Seriously. Don’t be shy.
3. Reply to a prompt comment with corresponding story! This is a “drabble meme,” so no pressure to write anything more than 500 words. But I doubt any lucky OP would receive an unexpected epic with anger, right? So write whatsha want.
4. Feel free to pimp out this meme to all the communities you can think of + your flist! The more the merrier!

Prompt Examples
A lyric or quote! Katniss/Peeta, "Lend me a helping hand ‘cause I’ve been treating your heaven like a one night stand."
A word! Gale, patient.
A kink! Madge/Katniss, blindfold.
A bit of dialogue! Finnick/Annie, "I just miss you when you're gone."
An action! Prim, mending clothes.
A situation! Johanna/Haymitch, killing time at the Capital.

May the odds be ever in your favor.

(meme format totally cribbed from stainofmylove .)

Comments

[electrumqueen.livejournal.com]

Gale/Peeta, venn diagram.

[clotpoles.livejournal.com]

Oh god what, THAT IS AN AMAZING PROMPT.
(I may or may not have to try to fill this.)

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Glimmer & Clove, green eyed monsters

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Foxface, "And we'll all be portions for foxes"

[blankculture.livejournal.com]

When Foxface's name is pulled from the glass bowl and announced to the whole District 4, she doesn't hide her face. Instead she straightens her back and listens the sudden hushed silence around her in the crowd. She can almost taste their relief, and after that, slowly emerging grief from those of them who knew her.

Knew her.

She's already thinking of herself in the past tense. The human essence is determined through life choices, and life choices are about to become death choices for her. Even if she will ever return here in the square, she won't be the same. There's no denying that she's going to try and kill at least one other tribute in the arena. Maybe that will be her goal, to kill only once? As if it would help. Becoming a killer changes person, as does surviving when everyone else dies. If she comes back, she won't be the same.

Her mother cries and it feels like nothing. The Peacekeepers take Foxface and her male companion to the train. She doesn't look at the boy's face. She doesn't know him and doesn't want to. The train leaves and the Capitol is everything she thought it would be, and more. She could never have imagined the endless rows of dishes, or the pink starless sky above the skyscrapers during the nights. The Capitol doesn't really matter, though, it's just a prelude before the Games. 1 703 kids have died in the Games, and seventy-three have survived. That's about four percent, so the odds really aren't in her favour. Still, Foxface is a survivor above all, and it's not like they are marched through a guillotine here. Guillotine kills every time, but one of them will live.

When the days in the Capitol are nearing the end (or the beginning), Foxface starts to wonder how far apart the arena and real life really are from each other. We will all die in the end, and then we are no more, so what does it matter what we do? she thinks. What does it matter if we die in a couple of weeks instead of fifty years? We will all end up as fox-food anyway. Learning to kill changes nothing.

So, maybe it doesn't really matter when Foxface makes it to the final eight. They are going to interview her weeping mother and lucky-it-wasn't-me friends back home, but it's all the same. They too will die. One by one four more tributes are slaughtered, and suddenly Foxface is in the final four. She can't convince herself not to care anymore. She feels hope and delight, but she is also tired and so very hungry. Hunger has been her most faithful companion ever since the Careers' food stack exploded. Scorched apples can only get you so far.

District 12 is on the move. Foxface follows them quietly and ponders shortly if she should kill them now. The feast at the Cornucopia really gave her what she desperately needed: means to kill from a distance. She holds the lives of the two lovebirds at her fingertips, but offensive never was her cup of tea. If District 12 manages to kill Cato, or Cato kills them, all the better for her. She decides to wait and see, maybe steal something to fill her empty stomach. She leaves the poison darts in her backpack.

[poppypickle.livejournal.com]

Gale/Katniss, "...and you'll never, ever be able to do anything but live happily ever after with that boy..."

P.S. I love this. Thanks so much for starting this meme!

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

My pleasure! (Seriously. it's so my pleasure.)

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

The Everdeens & the Mellarks, watching the Games

Edit for overzealous capitalization.

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Haymitch/Maysilee, her sister might as well be her ghost

[angerfish.livejournal.com]

The Victory Tour draws to a close in District Twelve for the first time in a generation and, as Haymitch Abernathy is presented to the crowds jostled in to the town square, he finds himself face to face with Maysilee’s family. Naomi Donner looks so very much like her sister that Haymitch finds himself longing for the bottles of liquor patiently awaiting his return (it was ludicrously simple to develop a taste for the stuff in the past few weeks.) The resemblance between the girls is so keen, in fact, that it is entirely possible to believe that an alternate reality has prevailed; that the Capitol has allowed for two Victors instead of just the one.

(Twice as many tributes, why not twice as many Victors? But that wouldn’t be soul crushing enough, would it?)

The speeches drone on, and Haymitch notes the subtle differences that separate Maysilee from Naomi, the memories from reality. His ally had had cautious eyes that took in every inch of their surroundings (how then had she failed to notice the birds that killed her?), while her sister stares ahead straight ahead, meeting everyone glance for glance. Maysilee’s hands were sure and steady, but Naomi’s are shaky and restless. At some point, as if she’s unaware of doing it, she unclips a small golden pin from her dress and clutches onto it, her knuckles turning white.

Suddenly it is Haymitch’s turn to speak, to acknowledge the losses of the tributes’ families, to see this annual train wreck to a close. Tradition requires he must pay particular attention to the memory of Maysilee. He says some words in honor of her, he’s not sure what, but they must be pretty because Mrs. Donner smiles through her tears. Naomi does not quite mirror her mother, but something behind her eyes softens as she regards him for a long, long moment. Her fingers relax around the pin and Haymitch sees now that it’s crafted in the shape of a bird.

That should be enough to make Haymitch dwell on Maysilee’s death (and he will, he has) but his mind drifts back further in time still. His eyes are drawn the sharp edges of the un-clipped pin, highlighting its potential as a weapon, and Haymitch remembers Maysilee. Remembers her resourcefulness, her dark laughter as the days wore on, and her backpack full of poisoned darts.

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Katniss, years after the Games, she hears a mockingjay sing Rue's song

mockingjay

[obeliscolychny.livejournal.com]

It has been years after the Games that changed her life ended, and she is doing her favorite past time: hunting. Ever since the Games she has been plagued by thoughts and nightmares of the dreadful events in the Games, and no matter how hard she tries to ignore them. Only the busyness and concentration of hunting helps her thoughts from straying to unwanted areas.

She has stalked a deer and nocks an arrow, pulling the string back so her thumb touches the tip of her mouth.

Suddenly, she hears a melody. A melody that is strikingly familiar. Four notes, light and sweet, that must be coming from the throat of a mockingjay. Rue's melody. Katniss's breath catches, and her whole body freezes. It must have been carried by the mockingjays from District 11. The tune is repeated by another mockingjay, and Katniss finds tears flowing down her cheeks.

She remembers Rue, clear as if it were only yesterday, talking to her. She remembers when they made their alliance, when Rue just began to trust her. And she remembers Rue, a spear protruding from her stomach, laying in her arms and taking her final breaths.

The arrow slips from her numbed fingers and falls to the ground. The deer looks up, startled, and dashes off. Katniss doesn't care that she just lost a prey. She is engulfed in her memories, of all the moments of Rue that she had.

Yet another mockingjay repeats the melody, and Katniss falls to her knees, too miserable to stand. The bow falls from her hand and she cries. She mourns for her lost friend, the friend who helped her survive, and an unbearable sadness overwhelms her.

The melody trills again. Mockingjays are friendly birds, but for Katniss, just this once, they seem to mock her.

[andystar101.livejournal.com]

Peeta/Katniss- Bedtime/nightmares/embrace

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Katniss/Gale, "I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to make you sway"

[wolfpacklove.livejournal.com]

"I know you miss him," Gale whispers in her ear. Katniss just hugs him tighter as he continues. "And I'm sorry."

"I just didn't. I didn't realize how much he meant to me until they took him."

Gale's heart skips a beat. So she does love him. "I'm sorry, it was my job to protect him, I should've done better."

Katniss pulls away, all sniffles and red eyes. "It's not your fault, Gale. I don't blame you."

"I know you don't. But I do." He sighs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Look, I. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to do anything that would hurt you or make you doubt anything you've been working for."

"I know, Gale. I'm sorry."

"For what? You know you can't do anything wrong when it comes to me, Catnip."

Katniss smiles sadly. "For not loving you back."

[electrumqueen.livejournal.com]

Gloss/Cashmere. "our hands rest together like pieces of paper, but they're always blank."

[wolfpacklove.livejournal.com]

Prim is in the games and kills for the first time.

[wolfpacklove.livejournal.com]

Gale/Prim in the aftermath, comfort in familiarity.

[electrumqueen.livejournal.com]

Prim + Katniss, 'I'm just your ghost'

[clotpoles.livejournal.com]

I see an Empires song lyric, whooo!
(I am uh, really spamming your prompts. Oops.)

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Cato/Clove, going home

[wolfpacklove.livejournal.com]

Prim/Rue, rosemary for remembrance.

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Katniss likes rosemary. It's easy to grow, tastes good in most dishes, and catches a fair price at market. Katniss selects most of her favorite things by their practical value.

Prim likes rosemary because its sharp smell fills her nostrils and its flowers are dainty and look nice tucked behind her ear. She likes it because it stands for remembrance and because of the song that goes parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme and tells of true love. She likes it because there are stories and poems about it that are older than the Capitol itself and no matter how hard they try to remind the residents of District Twelve that there will never be an after the Capitol, they can't make them forget that there was a before the Capitol.

While they're watching the Games, Prim's mother tells her first about katniss and primrose, which she knows about already. She tells her about clove, which Prim doesn't think she'll ever like quite the same anymore. She tells her about rue and how it's beautiful but dangerous, about how its oil can cause blisters and stomach pains.

When Prim watches Katniss tuck the small and quietly dangerous girl from District Eleven into her sleeping back, it makes her feel like she's there, with her sister holding her warm and keeping her safe. And then the next day she feels nothing like Rue at all, because she's helping Katniss in ways Prim never could. But when Katniss sings to Rue, Prim feels irreversibly connected to her counterpart. This is a girl she never met and knows nothing about, but Prim knows they would have been best friends. She would have told Rue that climbing trees was dangerous, she would have cleaned out her scrapes and cuts if she ever misstep and fell, she would have braided rosemary sprigs into her dark hair.

When Katniss returns home, she tells Prim a secret. After Rue died, after the singing was done and the cameras cut away from them, Katniss had wreathed her body in flowers. She never tells Prim what type of flowers, but she pictures rosemary and pansies.

Prim plants rosemary in the window boxes of their home in the Victor's Village. It's her own small rebellion, but a private one she holds close to her heart and tells nobody about.

[akemilove.livejournal.com]

finnick/anyone; smut.

This is my cue to run away now.

[poppypickle.livejournal.com]

Thank GOD someone finally suggested smut...;-)

[joyfraser.livejournal.com]

Career tributes, "Are you satisfied with an average life?"

[electrumqueen.livejournal.com]

katniss/peeta; "oh darling, i don't think this serenade is gonna carry through."

[angerfish.livejournal.com]

As soon as the room’s doors close behind them, Katniss pulls off her shoes and unceremoniously tosses them in a corner. The fabric of her dress bunches over the arms of the chair as Katniss stretches her legs out. Only then does Peeta notice the angry red scratches that line the sides of her feet.

“Um, Katniss?”

She raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of tea. “What? Oh.” She grins a little; and there’s something reckless about it. It brings to mind the sharp glint in her eyes throughout the evening, or the tense grip of her arms when they had moved in slow circles in the president’s mansion. “High heels. The worst instrument of torture yet.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget.” Peeta hands her some bandages and finishes off his own tea.

Otherwise they remain silent. Peeta seems to have used up all his words on a false proposal. Acquiescing has driven Katniss to laughter, but driven her further from conversation.

Still, they can go through their nighttime routine as steady as the steps of a waltz. They know when to turn to let the other change, when to turn off the lights, and when to crawl beneath the blankets.

Katniss falls asleep almost instantly, her arm draped over Peeta’s body, her forehead resting agains his shoulder. He stays awake, listening to the steady rhythm of the train below him, like a distant drum, an echo of the serenade from hours ago. He had held her in his arms, and they had danced in small careful steps, guarding their motives behind whispered words.

The morning will come, and he is unsure whether this memory will sustain him against the troubles dawn always brings.

Nevertheless Peeta is content to stay here for a while.

[wordweaverrr.livejournal.com]

Katniss/Peeta. "Trust me on this one, I've got a bad feeling. (I'm losing you)."
Bring on the angst.

[electrumqueen.livejournal.com]

Johanna/anyone, vampire au.

[mintpearlvoice.livejournal.com]

I tried to fill this prompt, but I ended up with vampire AU Johanna POV Katniss/Peeta. Still want me to post it?

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Peeta and Prim, she watches him bake something (bonus points if it turns out she's a Katniss/Peeta shipper).

[greenconverses.livejournal.com]

"You're lonely."

Peeta pauses, buried up to his wrists in dough and flour, and glances bemusedly at the fair haired companion at his side.

It helps that Prim looks almost nothing like her sister - it’s easier to be around her if his heart isn’t constantly throbbing with betrayal and bitterness. But they’ve got the same smile and sometimes seeing that makes him hurt in ways competitors in the Hunger Games only wish they could think up. She’s not smiling now though, just watching him with her all too serious blue eyes.

“What makes you say that, Prim?” he replies, pulling his hands free and wiping them on his apron. He’s not going to deny the truth; he just wants to know how obvious he’s making his loneliness these days.

Prim shrugs, fiddling with the strings of her own apron.

“You’re always baking,” she says matter-of-factly. “It’s your excuse to visit people all the time so they won’t feel bad about turning you away, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” he says, “Or maybe it’s just easier to talk to people when they have full bellies.”

“Well, whatever the reason,” Prim says, some of the Everdeen sass sneaking into her voice, “You should know that you don’t need an excuse to come visit us. Mom and I like it when you stop by, with or without baked goods.”

She doesn’t say anything about Katniss. They both know how she feels about his visits to the Everdeen’s new, shiny home in the Victor’s Village... if she’s there, that is.

Peeta has a clearer idea why Prim’s been coming to watch him bake in recent weeks, even if learning the craft herself was her primary goal. At her core, Prim’s a healer and when there’s someone in need of fixing, she doesn’t hesitate to go after them. She sees something that needs mending inside of him, something that can’t be mended as easily as she thinks it can.

“Then I won’t bring anything next time I stop by,” Peeta teases with an easy smile. “Although it sure would be a pity to waste all those ginger snaps in the oven right now. I guess I’ll have to eat them by myself...”

Prim’s eyes go wide at the mention of cookies and she quickly says, “You're making ginger snaps and you didn’t tell me? Peeta, I thought you liked me!”

Peeta laughs and Prim’s lips curve into a small smile, and even if she’s not the Everdeen girl he wants at his side, he’s grateful for her presence all the same.

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Cinna + Katniss, girl talk.

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Peeta/Katniss, what she wore when she actually got married.

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Peeta, something about how he dealt/his reaction to losing his leg.

Losing a limb doesn't really compare to losing a life

[blankculture.livejournal.com]

Peeta is not sure who was the last person to clip the toenails of his left foot. It was someone from his prep team, but Peeta can't remember which one. Somehow it feels like the final intrusion of his privacy. His leg is probably in some bio-hazard bag in the Capitol, or maybe they have put it in a museum. He doesn't know, and he can't even remember who was the last person to clip his toenails.

The artificial leg is not that bad. He has some phantom pain, but he also has a phantom girlfriend now, so it doesn't matter. They balance each other out. He barely notices the other.

At least Peeta knows for sure who was the last person to hurt his leg while it was still attached. It was Katniss with her silver arrow and too-tight tourniquet. It seems to be Katniss's job to save him by causing him pain.

--

(oh dear. don't know where this came from. don't even remember which one of peeta's legs got amputated. still, the idea of peeta's leg on some museum shelf cracks me up. the capitol folk might just be crazy enough to do it.)

[redbrunja.livejournal.com]

Haymitch, meddling kids.

of death and survival

[oneoffour111.livejournal.com]

Un-beta'd, unpolished, etc.

-

They were supposed to die, you know. They were from District 12, which automatically spelt out death. District 12 tributes were usually a couple of the first to go, and then Haymitch would just have to shrug, take another gulp from the bottle, and figure, well, I wasn’t that attached to them anyway.

That’s what always happened.

Always. Until the Seventy-Fourth Games.

-

What they were not supposed to do was win. They were not supposed to grow on Haymitch, or make themselves targets of the Capitol, or even survive. But they did.

At first, Haymitch couldn’t decide whether or not he was actually glad. It had been getting easier to dislike the candidates, think, she’s too plain and he’s too weak, and not suffer too much when they’re gone. But this pair had changed him, challenged him, and now he was hopelessly tangled in the whole rebellion right along with them.

Meddling kids.