#hunger games cato imagine

[aquanova99]

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Part 7

Prev <<

Next >>

A/N: Im sorry its taken so long I am trying to wrap up book one but how do I change it and leave out unnecessary details... I'm working on it

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Cato’s POV

The room was tense. Seeder’s gift was sure to draw some attention. Rumors swirled around Rue’s death sparking anger in District 11. While the victors had become friendly throughout the years of mentoring bringing them together it wasn’t a common theme to grieve over other tributes like this. From the same district, maybe. Then again, alliances did not normally cross over between more than one district outside of District 1,2, and 4. The mentors whispered what her actions would bring upon them. Haymitch had been in and out of the shared viewing room. Only talking to Chaff a handful of times.

 You’d been largely silent focused on the screen anytime y/n came into view. She was stone faced the morning after Rue and Marvels death. To someone from the capitol it could seem that she was simply waiting for the next canon to go off, but it would have been a stretch. Anyone with half a brain could see she was in a catatonic state. You wondered if Thresh really believed Marvel had gotten help in his endeavor with Rue. Likely not, Thresh seemed shaken up enough that he seemed the type to avenge his tiny friend and from what you saw he had made his way to the part of the arena covered in a field of wheat. If he knew about the dangers it was as a good place as any, you certainly wouldn’t have chased him out there.

Cashmere decides to sit next to you, clearing her throat and wakes you out of trance you seem to keep finding yourself in. She doesn’t speak to anyone in particular, but you know she’s directing every word to you. “She’s different, that one. We will have to help her when she comes back.”

“Don’t all tributes get that, mentors for the first year.”

“Hm? I don’t know what you mean, I must have been thinking out loud. It would be a shame if she couldn’t dig herself out. We don’t want her to go through the same thing Annie did.” With that Cashmere floated away. Annie. The girl from 4. She had come out a little more messed up  than the usual victor, dissociating completely in certain situations as if she was somewhere totally different. Finnick had taken upon himself to help her get through her spells, and as much as he could try and hide the pair had grown dependent on the other, completely and totally in love with each other. It was easy to ignore everything when they were home, but Finnick was often called away and playing the role that was forced on anyone who had received help from sponsors. Even those who got nothing could be forced into keeping some annoying capitol citizen ‘company.’ You remember it had only been a month after you had gotten out of your own games. You still hadn’t left the arena, I guess that was your own fault for finishing so quickly, it never processed right. The woman…you couldn’t remember her name, you barely remembered her face, all you saw was a threat. You’d broken her arm the second she touched you, and then…well its lucky there were more people hanging around because before you knew it you were unconscious.

Killer Cato. The only good that came from that name is that until Brutus and Enobaria deemed you safe you were lucky enough to avoid traveling back and forth to the capitol. Most of the time the tributes were allowed to live their life as victor peacefully until the victory tour, most of the time. Some victors like the morphlings or the ones who weren’t conventionally attractive or maybe the ones who got lucky and survived the games on their own were left to their own devices. Most of tributes from 1, 2, and 4 were asked and more often than not told to pay a visit to the generous people of the capitol more quickly than the others. Unless she did something unappealing to the viewers y/n would probably suffer the same fate. Cashmere’s words soothed you, maybe there would be a way to keep her away from that life for now. Seeing as she risked her life for family, or something close to family, its likely the threats the capitol offered would force her to comply…These feelings were weird. You didn’t understand why it mattered. If she won you would only see her once a year once you were both mentors. Out of all of the tributes, she seemed like she had the best head to win, that’s all. Right? Maybe you can get some use out of the training center.

Hours go by, and it’s a slow day. The gamemakers are going to have to do something to pull them together, Y/ns eyes are hollow as she sits by the fire, seemingly waiting for anyone to come find her. They don’t. Arioch and Clove wont be lured by something so similar to what destroyed their supplies and killed an ally, not yet anyway. You wonder if Clove and Arioch had realized he had been ready to turn against Arioch, if they did neither showed any sign of doubting him. The red-headed girl is still spying on them, waiting for an opportune time to try and steal whatever foods been handed to them by the sponsors. Clove had been keeping Arioch calm, but he was getting angry. Lyme was only giving what was absolutely necessary for them to eat. She worried they wouldn’t be able to ration it properly and judging by how annoyed Arioch was getting she was right. It was clear he was fond enough of Clove that he knocked it off whenever she would say something about it but she had her fair share of complaints. You were shocked no one had gone where Thresh was hidden, it seemed to be abundant with food. If you knew about it anyway, which you were almost positive your tributes wouldn’t. The academy you trained for the games had classes on interviews, deadly snares and traps, and the biggest majority fighting, there were also classes for food and foraging but it was never forced. And realistically, you never needed to know about that, seeing as there was always a steady stream of sponsors willing to bet on your districts training.

Then finally as everyone is ready or already retiring to their rooms for a night of unrestful sleep, the trumpets sound. Haymitch sits back down in a spot next to you, a his hands clenched together as he rests his arms on his knees. Not even looking at his screen. You realize he knows what is about to happen, what the announcement will be. And you couldn’t have been more wrong. Claudius Templesmith has an announcement. You expected a feast, something to give Peeta a chance but no, the words ‘rule change’ freezes every victor left in the room. You realize why Haymitch has been largely absent today. You realize Peeta’s one sided pining has worked, and you also realize that maybe, it wasn’t so one sided, she’s teary eyed as his name leaves her lips the second the announcement is over.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Y/ns POV

You were about to be sick again. You had never felt so conflicted. You should wait until morning. Every instinct screamed at you to not be so reckless.  You couldn’t sit still, couldn’t sleep. You had your night glasses anyway…the ones Thresh had told you about. Thresh. The one who could have had an ally had you been able to save Rue. Rue. The young girl who could have made it if she hadn’t teamed up with you. Really it was the tributes of District 11 that originally urge your feet forward. You felt a guilt begin overing you under a weight that seemed to be getting heavier to shake off the more you allowed yourself to think of either of them. And Peeta. You could have ruined everything. He had continued playing up the star crossed lovers, why else would the gamemakers make a rule change like this. You move quickly and silently, theres only one place he could be, really. Arioch had gotten in your head, if Peeta was really that badly injured you may not have much time left, and you’d be damned if you lost anyone else. You only stop to rest when you’re close enough to the stream that you hope you’ll be able to hear or see Peeta.

The second daylight hits your still weary eyes you sit up. It stirs you from a rather unfulfilling sleep  and you are off to try and find Peeta again. You almost give up several times before you manage to find that blood-streaked boulder. Hes close. He has to be.

You were amazed how even near death Peeta seemed to have his sense of humor intact. In other news, you suddenly remembered how much you hated the act of cleaning wounds.

“Something wrong?” He asks after seeing my face.

“Shut up.” Peeta laughs as you try not gag while cleaning his wound.

“How do you manage to kill anything around here?”

“You never know, I may be killing you as we speak.”

“Cant you just use that spear?”

“My food isn’t draining pus all over me. Blood I can handle.” You shove him some dried fruit and continue working on him. Its clear the wound is far above any medical capabilities you thought you had. After working on his leg for an hour you are finally able to wrap, and all you can do is hope for the best.

“I need to clean your…undershorts.”

“Okay.” He says it so calmly you grit your teeth, you’ve cried too much in that past couple of days for nakedness to be another thing on an ever growing list that makes you squeamish. You just avoid looking in his direction while he takes them off and turn your back to him as you get cleaning. “So no pus, but nakedness is okay? Or are you just being stubborn like how you were with Haymitch?”

“Speaking of…have you gotten anything?”

“No, what did you get?”

“Burn medicine.” You don’t need to say anything about the bread its an unnecessary truth. “It was when it was earlier in the games so he could probably afford it then.”

“Uh huh, not because you’re his favorite or anything.” You’re unsure what to say. You cant deny you and Haymitch understand each other on a different level. And survival wise, you could outlast anyone here. Maybe he could only bet on one of you. But with the rule change… ugh the whole rule change. The capitol has to be waiting for you to kiss him or love him. I mean youre washing his damn underwear, cant that be enough.

“I bet you he’ll send you something when he can.”

“Its okay Y/N, besides I know what will make me feel better.”

“Me too. Medicine.”

“No, you. I mean obviously you’re doing something right.”

 You toss him some damp clothes to put back on. “Lets hope I am and your fever breaks.”

“Seriously thanks for coming back for me, I know you didn’t hav—” You cut him off and hugged  him as tight as you could

“Just get better okay.” Because you did want him to get better. Whatever the reason was, the gamemakers are falling for his pining and giving you a chance to return it. Honestly after everything that happened with Rue, you kept thinking back to his words the night before the game. And this was something the games wouldn’t change. You weren’t in love with Peeta, and you couldn’t pretend. He was more of a family member or friend you would do almost anything for. But kissing him would feel wrong, be wrong. A hug is as much as the capitol would get for now, if your feelings changed later and you both made it out of here maybe you could play along.

“Is that all I get.”

“Get better and then maybe, maybe you get more.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Peeta was so good at this. It didn’t take him long to doze off. You take the time to collect more water and hunt for anything near the stream. You know through the slower moving parts the fish could be easy pickings. You debate staying with Peeta, but you both need something in your system. Maybe you should let him rest, but you cant hunt for anything with him out in the open. You relent after about an hour and coax him into walking with you down the stream, as long as he can anyway. You comfort him as he gathers whatever strength he has left and when hes ready you find a small cave like formation a little way above the stream. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly can. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly. You manage to further downstream and pick off a few fish where the water is slow. You try to ignore how badly you missed a few times and instead try to figure out how to make yourself more appealing to any possible sponsors, you cant tell him you love him but if you cant give him medicine, maybe you can give him hope. The audience might turn their indifference into pity if you could make them believe that you cant allow yourself to fall in love yet. You take a deep, dramatic breath before entering the cave.

Peeta is still sound asleep in your sleeping bag. Good. It will be easier to do this when hes not fully coherent. You crouch besides him and brush a strand of hair away from his face, you try to show your hesitation, tapping your fingers and shaking your leg before shaking your head and kissing him on the cheek. A cheek that is rapidly raising in temperature.

Peeta stirs, “Mm Y/n?”

“I caught us some fish.”

“Thanks for finding me,”

“It’s the least I could do. Just get better for me, okay?”

“You know what would really make me feel better?” You roll your eyes, he is much better at playing the lovestruck boy than you could ever hope.

“You already got one. But if you actually get better…” then what? You don’t want to kiss him, “then maybe.” That’s the best you can do for now.

“I’ll take it.” He smiles at you. You can tell the fever medication you have is having next to effect on him. If he doesn’t get medicine soon he’s going to die. You both know it. You hear a soft crunch of leaves and you’re up in an instant. Peeta grabs your hand to try and stop you from doing anything dangerous, you squeeze his hand and put the other on his cheek. You then quickly grab your knife and sneak to the edge of the cave, you try not to laugh when you see the silver parachute at the foot of the entrance. Haymitch is obviously rewarding your actions. Not that they aren’t out of real concern but regardless its clear that hes going to keep pushing for you to act like this if its what sends you food. Realistically, what you want is medicine but you aren’t likely to get that at this stage in the game.

“Hey Peeta! Looks like Haymitch decided to send you something after all.” You are able to convince him its for him soup is easier for him to eat, otherwise he would have sent actual food. It seems to make sense to him anyway. Apparently even soup is a struggle for Peeta, “And here I thought you wanted to get better, I guess no kisses for you.”

“Not fair.”

“Please Peeta, you have to get better.” It takes entirely too long for him to stomach the tiny pot of broth. Once he sleeps, you put the last of your bandage supply left on his warm forehead. Great. Now you wish you had made out with more in the arena before you blew it up. Whatever. You could mope while you kept watch since its all you could do for now. Anything else is just hope that the audience enjoyed what you did today.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Cato’s POV

Haymitch continues to go in and out of the room. If this had anything to do with the rule change, you can only hope he continues doing it. Y/n finished telling a story about her and her brother scrounging around their house to look for anything valuable to sell to buy their younger brother something for his birthday. To probably most people, it should be clear she had some other way to get their brother an old guitar. Music is something that seems relatively prevalent in her house, you think back to her singing with Rue. You wonder how often she’s gone without eating to feed someone else in her family, she was barely sleeping to continue to check on the boy from her district. For some reason the kiss she gave him kept replaying in your brain. He was definitely hurting her chances of making it, but its clear she struggles to not help out other tributes. That probably isn’t making Snow very happy. The concern on her face grows as she finishes her story and rechecks Peetas leg, which won’t make it without any medicine soon.

She cleans the bandage again, clearly not helping make a dent in his fever. They both know the blood poisoning will take him out soon if the games don’t end in a matter of maybe two days tops. And after the camera has shown Thresh doing quite well…it doesn’t seem like Peeta would be the one to outlast his fellow tributes. Haymitch almost collapses into the couch, you’re shocked he doesn’t spill the whiskey in his glass.

“You alr—” you try to ask before he puts one finger up, effectively quieting you while he takes a sip. Guess he’s doing worse than you thought.

“Its too expensive.”

“The medicine.” Its meant to be a question but you know the price is too much for any sponsor to fork over.

“Hopefully Effie and her gaggle of friends have gossiped enough to get an idea to the gamemakers.” Almost on cue the trumpets sound an announcement. When Claudius Templesmith begins speaking Haymitch laughs to himself, “Sometimes I think I might actually love that woman.”

Just as quickly as relief hits, Peeta threatens to follow Y/n to the banquet. Haymitch mutters something about Peeta making everything difficult and steps out again. You think how hard it must be to do this alone all these years. Most all of the other districts have someone else to divide the work out. Haymitch looked as tired as his tributes in the arena. Maybe ten minutes pass before he stumbles back into the viewing room. You just hold out some kind of spirit in a cup. He raises it to you before letting his head fall back.

“Nothing else I can do.” Y/n has been arguing with Peeta on letting her go to the cornucopia. The small vial meant nothing to you but Y/n stared at it for a long while before going back to the cave.

‘I guess I don’t have to go to the feast after all. Haymitch sent you some medicine.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah it says to take it like a shot. But it smells nasty. You’re stomach will probably try and reject it.’

‘I’m sure it wont.’ He snatched the vial with what little strength he had. You didn’t miss the smirk she had as he tried quickly drank it back. She played a big gamble on his ego and it paid off. She immediately plugged his nose and covered his mouth before he spit anything out. The effort was already draining the little energy he had, his attempt to force himself to throw didn’t help.

‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Peetas anger reached all the way to the capitol. His eyes brimmed with fury as sleep overtook him. Y/n was smug at her victory, but she quickly leaned over him. Fussing over the sleeping bag covering him, cleaning any remaining medicine on his face, brushing his now sweat soaked hair from his face. ‘I hope you know I had to. I need you to make it.’

You watch as she presses her lip against his and try to find some logical reason on why you suddenly feel the need to go hit something. Y/n wastes no time. She starts arranging the cave to be almost undetectable. Luckily, she had been working on it before, as she finishes quickly. She walks for awhile and sets up a fire, with dusk settling it gives her good cover and she has time to cook everything she had caught the past day, making a decent meal of rabbit and fish. She finishes and fills the water containers when she gets back to the cave before allowing herself to sleep again. She only allows herself a few hours. You find yourself worrying about her lack of sleep.

The camera pans to the other districts again. The girl from five is starving and damn near freezing to death. Her item will definitely be something to protect her from the weather. Cato and Clove are cold too, their breaths making small white clouds, but they have the experience with cold weather training. Thresh seems fine too. You wonder what will be in store for those three.

‘Come on. I promise to make it a good show.’

‘No way. I kill her.’

‘Don’t be like that. You’ve killed almost everyone else we’ve dealt with and since you missed loverboy, its only fair I get a shot at her now.’

You don’t have to wonder who they’re talking about.

…’You’ll drag it out.’

‘Of course, when I’m done with her they’ll forget why they were ever rooting for her in the first place.’

‘Good thing you’re on my side, Clove.’ He chuckles, Clove grins with a sense of pride

‘So I can do it??’ Too excited, you think

‘Yeah sure.’

You didn’t expect Clove to do anything else. One of her critiques from the academy was quite literally how she wasted too much time making a show of things. She needed to prove she belonged. Its why all of you were shocked when she was the one picked from your district and not another eighteen year old to match Ariochs anger. Then again, if Arioch had another one of him out there they would have torn eachother apart before getting out of the blood bath. Probably over who got a certain kill.

Y/n began her journey back to the cornucopia. You wondered why she walked somewhat sideways until you remembered the big explosion. The ear must have been permanently damaged, or damaged until she made it back. She stopped more often than not to make sure she was hearing correctly. There was nothing. She arrived to her original hiding spot with no issue, with the glasses she slowly moved as close as she could. Arioch and Clove had sought out the space closest to the lake, which ended up helping Cora, the girl from five. She had snuck around the other side of giant cornucopia, hiding inside and ensuring she would be the closest to the feast the second the table appeared. Thresh was at the biggest disadvantage, positioning himself at the back of the cornucopia, He would need to listen for when the table came up because he definitely could not see from there.

District 5 had the right idea. Y/N realizes this the second she runs off. She wastes no time and runs in immediately after and grabs the tiny bag for her district, unfortunately Clove comes to the same realization. Y/n tries to follow District five but it’s clear Clove will be there before she can run off. You wonder why she only brought her knives but then again, the other weapons would require more time for her to aim and might end up hindering her. Cloves first knife is knocked away. You’re sure Y/ns cut up at least a little but not enough to stop her. She throws her own knife and it lands in Cloves right shoulder. Fortunately, that’s the arm she throws with. Unfortunately, this incites a rage you werent aware she had. She yanks the knife out, and switches it to her other hand quickly. Her aim is off now, and the knife whizzes past y/ns head. Y/n makes the mistake to look at where the knife landed and in that second Clove is tackling her to the ground. You remember your conversations on the roof that seem so long ago, and know she wont make it out of this. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Clove begins relishing in this, she knows this information just as well and is going to make her suffer just like she said she would.

‘Well if it isn’t the girl on fire. Whats the matter 12, worried about getting the medicine to loverboy?’

‘Worried about getting your screentime?’ She smirked until Clove threw a relatively soft punch considering her arm was clearly struggling to lift itself.

‘Not at all, I promised to give the audience a good show. Its funny because if it was Arioch right now, he’d probably finish you off pretty quickly. Would that be better for you? To go as quickly as your pathetic little friend?’

The mention of Rue has her struggling to unseat Clove with no avail, ‘Shut up. You don’t get to talk about her.’

‘The girl who hopped around in the trees. Rue? Well, we took care of her, and nature will take care of loverboy. and now I’m going to take care of you. Now, where to start?’ Y/n lifts her head trying to do anything to get Cloves balance off just to get a better chance of getting out of there. Clove is taking delight in her struggle, ‘I think we’ll start with your mouth. Make sure you blow loverboy one last kiss.’

‘Wow so clever. But if I can only say one last thing…’ Clove is puzzled for only a second more before Y/n spits in her face.

Clove gets one more punch as Y/n continues to struggle. When her nose begins to bleed she stills becoming unblinking, staring down her last opponent. You see Thresh coming up to the table freezing as he hears the entire conversation. ‘Lets start then,’

She barely leans over to trace the outline of Y/ns lips before he yanks her off his former ally. Flinging her to the ground. ‘You’re the one who killed her??’

Clove begins scooting backward, frantic at another opponent she clearly did not expect. Arioch had begun looking for another tribute where Y/n ran out of and was only now heading back to his original hiding spot.

‘No! No, it wasn’t me.!’

Thresh picks her up again holding her against the cornucopia. ‘I heard you!’

Arioch is already beginning to run as Clove begins screaming for help. He answers her but he’s too far. Thresh smashes her into the cornucopia. Y/n is still sat as she looks up in shock. Cloves body has the slightest moan escaping her lips. You look away, hating that the death wasn’t quick that somewhere in her mind she feels the pain coursing through her body. Your eyes snap up when Thresh speaks again.

‘Just this time Y/n. For Rue.’

Y/n eyes look at the two bags he has, ‘Don’t do it Thresh. Its not worth it.’

‘Clove!’ Ariochs voice makes Y/ns stand in a defensive position.

‘You better run now, Fire Girl.’ Y/ns scrambles to collect her knives and begins to run. She pauses when she hits the edge of the forest. Thresh has run off with both backpacks which could be a really smart or really stupid move. She looks at a frozen Arioch leaning over Clove and continues to run towards Peeta.

Y/n makes several stops as she runs towards Peeta, once to make sure her nose had stopped bleeding, it had. Once to see if her arm had stopped, it had not. She squeezed it shut until her feet hit the stream. She stops several more times to bend over and hold her head. You assume she is getting dizzy. The punch probably giving her an effect of a concussion. Every time she stands again she seems to have trouble getting her bearings but she makes it to the cave. Her hands shake as she struggles to open the small box, it contains one needle. She fumbles to unzip the sleeping bag and the second Peetas arm is exposed Y/n tries to center the shot. She has to take several deep breaths to calm the adrenaline that is sure to be coursing through her body, her hands are still shaking but she is able to slowly press down on the needle’s plunger. When shes finished she throws it across the cave and curls up into a ball, finally succumbing to the sleep that’s been eluding her since finding Peeta.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Y/N’s POV

You couldn’t cry, not again. You’ve cried too much in these games. One, its embarrassing, two the capitol cannot have another excuse to make you look weak. So when Peeta tells you Thresh’s picture is in the sky you ask if he can take the first watch and you cover your face with the sleeping bag until the tears stops falling. You have a feeling Peeta understands, but to what extent?

You’d woken up to the sound of the anthem. Peeta stroking your hair like you had done to him when he had been sick. You had to explain how you had worked with District 11. How Thresh moved you to a safe location after the tracker jackers, how you had helped fix his shoulder, how you’d gotten them both food and blew up the career’s supply, and the worst part…the part you didn’t want to ever discuss, Rue. Peeta had made a remark about how he must have felt like your alliance was still technically in place since Arioch and Clove had still been around. But you knew deep down, that it wasn’t about you, but Rue. The feast you had gotten for excitedly hugging Peeta and peppering his face with light kisses had suddenly turned to lead in your stomach. You had pretended to get caught up in the moment, and apparently, it had been enough for Haymitch to let you both eat real food while hiding in the downpour that had been happening the last couple of days.

Under the sleeping bag you think about anything besides your fallen allies. So you retrace the events leading up to the meal, the kisses, Peetas retelling of how he fell in love with you…well how he fell in love with Katniss. You had been friends with Katniss long ago, when you were both really young, and the memory albeit fuzzy was there of a young more cheerful Katniss telling you all about how she sang the valley song for her class. Then the mining incident happened, and the resentment that your father was one of the few to make it while hers was gone forever drove a divisible wedge. After that, it felt wrong to compare situations. Without your own father being able to work, you had lost him too. Pride had made him bitter and somewhat cruel, and he refused to work. Your mother was so focused on rehabilitating him, it fell on you to help your brothers. You remember how your father said nothing before you left, except to make himself seem like somewhat of a hero. You had once thought about how different you and Katniss had grown to get to the same indifference towards your parents. You could barely manage to be in the same room with your father while Katniss still held him in the highest regards, you at best felt pity for your mother for being tied to someone who believed he was better than everyone. Katniss for lack of better words, hated her mother for the abandonment. You were so similar you wished everyday you could restart the friendship you two had had long ago, you also wonder what she makes of this whole act and Peetas story that so clearly reference her. He was great at changing small details to make it plausible. You had just promised him that when you both made it out of there he could take you on an actual date, playing enough to keep the audience’s hopes up, well and Peeta kept poking fun at you saying he was planning on going all out when you got out. Regardless, you both played on this story and got the incredible food that you were trying to inhale before he looked outside the cave and saw Thresh’s picture in the sky.

Thresh. You should have told him about that extra backpack you’d hidden in the beginning of the game. Stopped him from taking Ariochs backpack. He was sure to have made Threshs death slow…and painful. You think about the last time you ever saw him he finally used your name. The capitol food threatens to make a reappearance. You give Peeta one of your knives, tell him to hide it in unless he absolutely needs it. He could train with the arrows tomorrow because honestly, you weren’t proving to be very good with it. You wonder if Katniss was irritated at how poorly you aimed, you wonder if she would train you on it when you got home. You wondered if you could be friends again. You focus on that instead of the sleep that’s eluding you again now that you’re thinking of Thresh’s murder. Now all you had was Cora and Arioch. Arioch you could handle, Cora…you remember how she almost agreed to be allies, and had least said you wouldn’t gun for each other.

Eventually, Peeta wakes you so you can keep watch. You comply soundlessly. You’re so thankful you aren’t alone anymore because really, you were barely making by before the rule change. You were tired of killing, you didn’t need anymore blood on your hands. Of course, this is the hunger games, and you knew that likely you wouldn’t have a choice.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Catos POV

Peeta had proven being kind could save your life in the game. You saw Y/n’s panic as she spun around expecting Peeta to have eaten those berries. Instead, they find the District 5 girl. Y/n cleans the berry stains from her mouth and hands, and closes her sunken, hollow eyes before trying to move Peeta along. He meanwhile, was waiting for the two of them to be able to eat together, really he’s quite lucky, most people would have snacked on the berries before meeting back up with an ally. His naivete, sparing him a quick death. She claimed she wanted to get some space before Arioch barreled through the woods but likely, she was uncomfortable with another dead tribute. She needed to compartmentalize. The capitol wouldn’t like how torn she seemed everytime a picture was shown in the sky.

You noticed Haymitch was all but telling her to accept Peetas affection. She seemed to be trying to suppress her attraction to the guy, but you were unsure how much of it was an act. It was clear the audience was going crazy over what they saw as fear of losing someone she was in love with. Fear of admitting something that was too good to be true. Their return would ensure the two of them would be forced to get into a relationship immediately. You wondered if they could keep up the whole pretense.

In the real world the victors we’re headed back to their respective floors for dinner. You and Enobaria went to the couch while Brutus went on about how Arioch would win out.

The temperature was dropping quickly too quickly. This was the finale. Everyone would have work off tomorrow throughout all of the districts. And Arioch now had the advantage of complete body armor. Seemed a little unfair but I guess it was two against one. Peeta was about as good as Glimmer with the bow and arrow. Y/N held Marvels spear as they headed to the cornucopia. The camera pans to Arioch confidently walking deeper into the forest where the girl from district five was picked up. He’d been hunting since brutally torturing Thresh in the downpour. The fight could go either way, but Arioch was going on pure rage and vengeance. He made the death painfully slow, making cuts that individually wouldn’t kill anyone. Thresh fought back well, the weapon and armor he had stolen came in handy. The rain however made it hard for him to see clearly and Arioch still had the glasses. You were somewhat surprised when Arioch didn’t scream his success after finishing him off.

The gamemakers has quieted the background noise they had going on. The snarling was unmistakable. You could hear whatever creature was back lick it’s lips as it growled in Ariochs direction. Muttations. Half wolf and half human like things that looked like… oh god. You turned to look at Enobaria, maybe you were wrong. Her scowl told you your suspicions were correct. She quickly stood up and retired to her room. The rest of your victors were silent, knowing how she felt about the mutts, about herself every day she woke up, every time she looked in the mirror. You wondered if she thought she was just like those mutts on the screen. You wished there was something you could say, anything to help. But words weren’t really your strong suit.

When you turn back to the screen Y/n and Peeta have heard Arioch and the mutts running towards them. She should have thrown her knife the second she saw enter the clearing. But she frozen. Utterly frozen at the giant creatures following him, figuring out exactly what they were. Who they were.

Peeta yanks y/ns arm. They barely managed to make it to the cornucopia without any injuries.

‘It’s them. All of them.’ Y/n whimpers as she fumbles to tie a bandage on Peetas once again, bloodied leg.

‘Are- are those their real eyes???’

You force yourself to look at the muttations a little more closely. The eyes definitely looked entirely too human. It was a sick thing to do to them. Even dead their bodies served the capitol. Always loyal to the capitol.

The hair on the wolves had different textures, the one who could only be Glimmer had blond shiny hair, the one with the number four had curly hair throughout his entire body. You refused to look at them any more. You looked up when you heard y/n scream out just to see Arioch yank her hair to throw her back on the floor. Peeta quickly tackles him, even injured it’s clear Peeta has experience fighting but he’s injure and Arioch quickly has him in a headlock. Y/n is already trying to figure out where to aim the spear.

‘Drop it or he dies.’

‘He dies and you come in second.’

‘Then I get one last kill.’

‘Yeah real impressive killing someone injured, but seeing as you couldn’t kill him the first time I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you need to prove a point.’ She grinned, she was playing a dangerous game. Peeta was weakly clawing at Ariochs arm but the stalling could only go so far.

‘I was supposed to win. It should have been me or Clove..’

‘Come on Arioch, we all know I’m the one you have to beat. Look I’ll even go no weapons, no arrows, no spears, no knives.’ Arioch laughs at what seems is y/n signing Peetas death certificate.

It finally registers to Peeta what Y/n wants him to do. She sighs and pats her leg as she bends down, eyes on Arioch while she lays down the spear. Peeta manages to dig the knife y/n had told him to hide straight into Ariochs thigh.

He’s caught off guard and instinctively goes to remove the knife while screaming in pain. Y/ns gamble paid off, she throws her own knife towards his head. It nicks his already injured forehead sending a gush of blood down his face. The pause gives Peeta the room to push him off the cornucopia. Arioch isn’t one to go down easy, you think at the mutts that are way too excited to have him back down on the ground. Y/n rushes over to Oeeta cupping his face in her hands…

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Much better now.’ He pulls her in for an embrace they share until Ariochs screams begin cutting through the freezing air.

You find yourself holding your breath as they try to figure out how to help Arioch. Peetas convinced he would waste all of the arrows. Y/n is unsure without her knives but exasperated takes the bow and arrow from Peeta. And for the first time that you’ve seen in the arena, she hits her mark and the canon goes off.

‘That’s it! We did it!’ Peeta says through chattering teeth. Y/n collapses next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. Just like that the mutts disappear back into the woods. Y/ns eyes trained on the remaining wolves, saying goodbye to her friends one more time.

‘I can’t wait to go home.’

Peeta tries to cheer her up again, ‘you know what this means?’

‘What?’

‘You have to go on a date with me now. You promised.’

Y/n laughs, ‘you promised actually…but I’ll hold you to that.’ She lifts her and pulls his chin closer to hers and presses her lips firmly on his. His hands pull her closer before she pulls away. You find one of your nails has begun going back and forth on your skin, digging into it and leaving a large raw scratch in the palm of your hand. Some act.

Where’s the damn hovercraft? Hours go by and y/n and Peeta are forced to huddle together to try and preserve whatever body heat is left between the two of them. You go back to the viewing room where most of the victors are watching as intently as you plan to.

‘What’s taking so damn long?’ Y/n asks by the time the sun begins to rise again

‘Maybe we need to move away from the body. They probably still need to collect it.’ Already y/n has figured out what’s beginning to happen. She presses her lips together but nods.

‘Well then let’s move.’

They both move slowly. Probably as quick as their bodies can move after spending the night in freezing weather. They make it to the edge of the clearing, certainly farther than they were from the district five girl. When the hovercraft eventually grabs Ariochs bloodied body Claudine’s Templesmith’s voice echoes through the arena. You lean as close to the screen as you can just in case you miss anything.

‘Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revisions have been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!’

Y/n closes her eyes and takes a deep breath knowing deep down this was coming. She looks at Peeta. Injured and takes a step back.

‘Dont y/n. One of us should go home.’

She shakes her head, ‘No.’

‘Y/n—‘

‘Peeta, I can’t. You could go and see—‘

‘Don’t be dumb y/n. I’m not going without you.’ She’s about to protest when he says, ‘that’s fine, you’ll outlast me anyway.’

He’s about to remove the bandage he has wrapped around his leg that’s already soaking through when y/n screams, ‘No! Just wait. Please.’

‘They have to have a winner y/n.’

That’s when she hatched the idea. ‘No. They don’t.’

She holds out the night lock berries. Peeta is about to protest when she tells him to trust her. They split the berries. Your throat is dry. You want to scream at both of them. Stop. Don’t give everything up now.

‘3.’

‘2.’

….

‘1’

They both have the berries on their lips when Claudius Templesmith comes back, frantic ‘Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Y/N L/N and Peeta Mellark! I give you the tributes of District Twelve!’

But while the announcement caused y/n to freeze, it caused Peeta to bite down. You could hear a pin drop in the room. Y/n spots the berries out and turns to Peeta excitedly, before she sees him try to open his mouth but fail as the night lock seizes his system and he collapses to the ground. Her moth drops and she’s frozen until the canon sounds one. Last. Time.

Haymitch smashes a glass across the room, “Damn it!” He storms out with Chaff following behind him.

‘No. No no no no. Peeta wake up.’ She falls to her knees and lifts his head on her lap, when he doesn’t respond she tries to shake his shoulders. ‘Peeta! Wake up, damn you! We just won. We’re supposed to go home. You owe me. You promised me! You said you would take me out so GET UP!’

She’s bawling by the time she gets out those last words. When the hovercraft comes for her and I guess Peeta as well she covers his body not making any effort to leave. You grimace, you know what happens when you don’t voluntarily go to the hovercraft.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen I am pleased to present the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games! Y/N L/N’

‘No! It’s both of us. Shut up!’ She screams as Peacekeepers descend from another hovercraft. She seems to be to busy rocking Peetas upper body gently alternating between telling him it’s okay to get up and begging him to open his eyes.

The peacekeepers each grab one of her arms and she goes feral; kicking and screaming protests, ‘No! LET ME GO! You can’t leave him please! No!’

You find yourself wanting to tell her it’s going to be okay. But you know that’s not entirely true. Still, you wish you could comfort her. The room is a mixture of mouths agape, people holding in their shock by covering their mouths, and looking at eachother with a look that can only be described as confusion. You all watch as her cries get quieter and quieter when another peacekeeper sedates her. And just like that her body ascends into the hovercraft, coming back to the Capitol.

That’s when it hits you. Y/ns coming back. And she’s going to have a whole new game to play.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun

[cloveswifey]

Mentor

Pairings: Cato Hadley x Fem!Reader

A/n: not exactly sure if this was what you wanted when you requested; hopefully this is good enough. Part 2 will be on its way maybe?

Type: Angst + Fluff

Warnings: blood, swearing, the hunger games, insults, arguing, fighting, medicine.

Words: 1.9k

Request: Cato × reader when he won the 74 and she won the 72 and she's younger than him and they fall in love and ppl are surprised he's soft for her

Y/n had always known that she was destined for greatness. Growing up in District 2, she had been trained from a young age to become a tribute in the Hunger Games. She had learned how to use a bow and arrow with deadly accuracy, and she was smart enough to outwit any opponent who dared to cross her.

As the day of the 72nd Hunger Games approached, Y/n felt a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew that the Games were a brutal and unforgiving competition, but she was determined to emerge victorious.

When the Games began, Y/n immediately put her skills to the test. She used her bow and arrow to take down several of her opponents, and she quickly established herself as a force to be reckoned with. She was smart enough to avoid direct confrontation whenever possible, instead using her wits and her knowledge of the arena to stay one step ahead of the other tributes.

As the days passed, Y/n continued to impress the audience with her skill and her cunning. She was one of the youngest tributes in the Games, but she was also one of the most deadly. She had a natural talent for survival, and she was able to adapt quickly to the ever-changing conditions of the arena.

Despite her success, Y/n never lost sight of her ultimate goal: to emerge victorious from the Hunger Games. She knew that there were still several formidable opponents left in the competition, and she was determined to outlast them all.

As the final showdown approached, Y/n prepared herself for the ultimate battle. She knew that she would need to be at her very best if she was going to emerge victorious, and she focused all of her energy on the task at hand.

When the final battle began, Y/n was ready. She used all of her skills and knowledge to outwit her opponents, and she fought with a fierce determination that left her adversaries reeling. In the end, it was Y/n who emerged victorious, having proven herself to be the most skilled and resourceful tribute in the entire competition.

As she stood before the cheering crowds, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. She had survived the Hunger Games and emerged as the ultimate victor, a testament to her strength and her courage. From that day forward, Y/n would be remembered as one of the greatest tributes in the history of the Hunger Games, a true champion who had overcome incredible odds to achieve her ultimate goal.

As Y/n emerged from the arena, she was greeted by a sea of flashing cameras and cheering fans. She had just become the youngest winner in the history of the Hunger Games, and her achievement had not gone unnoticed.

Alongside her stood Finnick Odair, the dashing and charismatic tribute from District 4. Finnick had won the 65th Hunger Games at the age of 14, and he had gone on to become one of the most beloved victors of all time. Now, he stood beside Y/n, the newest member of the exclusive club of Hunger Games champions.

As Y/n made her way through the crowds, she was praised for her incredible skill and bravery. She had faced off against some of the toughest opponents in the Games, and she had emerged victorious against all odds. Her youth had been seen as a disadvantage by many, but she had used it to her advantage, relying on her quick reflexes and her natural agility to outmaneuver her opponents.

Finnick, too, was quick to praise Y/n for her incredible achievement. He had been in her shoes once, and he knew just how difficult it was to win the Hunger Games at such a young age. He saw in Y/n a kindred spirit, a tribute who had overcome incredible odds to become a true champion.

Together, Y/n and Finnick became the talk of the Capitol. They were hailed as the brightest stars of the Hunger Games, two young tributes who had proven themselves to be the very best of the best. They were invited to all of the most exclusive parties and events, and they were showered with gifts and accolades from their adoring fans.

For Y/n, the experience was both exhilarating and overwhelming. She had never imagined that she would become a Hunger Games champion, let alone one who was celebrated alongside the legendary Finnick Odair. But as she basked in the glow of her newfound fame, she knew that she had truly achieved something remarkable. She had proven that age was just a number, and that anyone, no matter how young or inexperienced, could become a true champion if they had the courage and the determination to succeed.

2 years later

Years had passed since Y/n had won the Hunger Games, but her name was still remembered by many. She had become a living legend, a symbol of hope and resilience in a world that was often dark and cruel. So it was no surprise when she received a summons to President Snow's office, inviting her to mentor the tributes of the 74th Hunger Games.

At first, Y/n was hesitant. She had left the world of the Hunger Games behind, and she had no desire to return to it. But something in Snow's voice had piqued her curiosity, and she found herself accepting the invitation despite her misgivings.

Y/n pov

I soon returned to my home district, after being at the Capitol to fulfil President snows wishes.

As I arrived, Brutus was preparing to announce this year's tributes. She watched from the sidelines as Brutus approached the bowl of names.

But just as he was about to draw a slip of paper, a voice rang out from the crowd. "I volunteer as tribute!" My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a small, tough-looking girl.

She had dark brown hair and freckles scattered across her face. With a proud smirk, she strode up to the stage.

"What's your name?" Brutus asked into the microphone.

"Clove Kentwell," she replied with a smirk.

"Congratulations, Clove!" Brutus exclaimed, applauding. "Now, Y/n, would you do the honors and select our male tribute?"

I nodded and walked up to the bowl, but before I could pick a paper, another voice cried out, "I volunteer for the Games!"

A muscular blonde man stepped out of his aged-group line and began walking towards the stage.

"What's your name?" I asked into the microphone.

"Cato. Cato Hadley," he replied with a smirk, looking out at his district. He then turned to me and winked before taking his place beside Clove.

As they rode the train to the Capitol, Cato began making fun of Y/n for being younger than him. "How is a younger person gonna teach me anything?" he taunted.

"Age doesn't matter, Hadley," Y/n scoffed.

"Why's that?" Clove sarcastically laughed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, now. Let's not be rude," Brutus said, trying to diffuse the situation.

But Cato wasn't having it. "You're just a kid. What could you possibly teach us?" she sneered.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I may be young, but I have experience," she said firmly.

"Experience in what? Tying knots?" Clove scoffed.

"Shut it, Freckles. I could easily put one of my arrows into your thick skull and send you flying across this room," Y/n spat at the small girl.

Clove rolled her eyes, but Y/n could see a glimmer of respect in her gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to prove herself to these tributes.

Y/n, Brutus, Clove, and Cato arrived in the Capitol, ready for the 74th Hunger Games.

As they waited for the parade to begin, Y/n noticed that Cato looked nervous. She walked over to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

Cato nodded, but Y/n could see the fear in his eyes. "I'm just nervous," he admitted.

‘Nervous? I don’t do nervous’ Thought Cato.

Y/n smiled. "I know, but you're going to do great. Just remember to stay focused and don't let your emotions get the best of you."

Cato nodded again, and Y/n could see that her words had helped calm him down. As the parade began, Cato and Clove climbed onto their chariot and rode through the streets of the Capitol.

The crowd roared as they passed by, and Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. They were representing their district, and she was determined to make them proud.

As they made their way back to the training center, Y/n pulled Cato aside. "Listen, I know you're a great fighter, but you need to be careful. Don't let your anger get the best of you. Stay focused, and don't make any unnecessary moves."

Cato nodded, and Y/n could see the determination in his eyes. She knew he was going to be a tough competitor, but she also knew that he had what it took to win.

As the days passed, Y/n continued to give Cato and Clove advice and support. She knew that they were all in this together, and that they needed to work as a team if they wanted to survive.

Cato was confident as he entered the arena for the 74th Hunger Games. He knew that he was a strong fighter, but he also knew that he had a lot to prove. Luckily, he had Y/n as his mentor, and she had been a great help to him throughout his training.

As the games began, Cato fought hard, taking down his opponents one by one. But when he came up against Thresh, things took a turn for the worse. Thresh was a tough opponent, and he managed to injure Cato's leg.

Cato was in pain, but he knew he couldn't give up. He thought of Y/n, who had sent him medicine to help with the pain. He knew he had to keep fighting, for her.

As the days passed, Cato continued to fight, but he found himself thinking more and more about Y/n. She had been there for him from the beginning, and he had come to rely on her for support.

As he made it to the final battle, Cato knew that he had to win. He thought of Y/n, and all of the help she had given him. He knew that he couldn't let her down.

In the end, Cato emerged victorious. As he stood on the podium, he looked out into the crowd, searching for Y/n. When he found her, he mumbled the words "I love you Y/n" under his breath.

Y/n heard him, and she smiled. She had grown to care for Cato as well, and she was proud of him for winning the games. She knew that they had a long road ahead of them, but she was ready to face it with him by her side.

[cherryslyce]

Sharp Knives, Sharp Gazes | Clove Kentwell

Synopsis: A dangerous attraction to one of the deadly careers leads to more than you could have bargained for, including unlikely friendships and romance.

Masterlist

Pairing: Clove Kentwell x District 4!Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant (Glimmer lives, careers are OOC because they are not mindless killers). Someone save Finnick before Y/N gives him a heart attack. Marvel is fun to write, even though I'm a Cato fan.

A prickle of anxiety jolted down your spine as you lifted your eyes and met a pair of amused ones. Your eyes flickered down and paused on the grin stretching across her freckled face.

She was undeniably pretty, but the deadly glint in her eyes convinced your fellow tributes to stay away from her. Somehow, you had caught her attention and you would have been endlessly flustered had it not been for the dire circumstances you found yourself in.

“Hey, 4. You look scrappy enough. Good. The last few years your district has produced nothing but disappointments.”

You snap out of your trance and tear your gaze away from the menacing girl from District 2, coming face to face with the smug male tribute from 1–Marvel.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, 1.”

“Feisty. Look, for some reason Clove thinks it would be interesting to bring you into our fold. Don’t look at me like that, she said it, not me. So what do you say? Care to live up to District 4’s legacy as a part of the Career Pack, or are you going to scamper around and die off like a fish out of water?”

The boy finished his (very convincing) speech with a sigh as if you were the terrible inconvenience in this situation. Although, despite how annoyed you grew with him, you respected his skills with a spear and it was apparent he held some begrudging respect for you as well.

“Clove? I thought Cato was your leader? I don’t think he’s open for recruitment, shouldn’t you run this idea past him first?”

“He’s not a dictator, you’ll be fine. Besides, we can all see how valuable you are. You fling around that trident of yours like it’s an extension of your arm.”

Oh. Marvel just praised you. Had you knocked your head too many times on the train ride to the Capitol?

“And then what, you’ll slit my throat in my sleep when I’m no longer of use?”

He smiles a little at your retort before growing serious, an expression so foreign on his face that you couldn't help but wait patiently to hear what he had to say next.

“Maybe. But you have a better chance with us. Who knows, maybe you’ll even win this and get to go home. Bring pride to your district and whatnot.”

You were definitely dreaming. This was the same Marvel who you thought was a bloodthirsty, hormonal time bomb. Turns out he may hate this situation nearly as much as you.

“I’ll think about it. See you at the interviews tonight, Marvel.”

He nods as if expecting your answer, though you catch his eyebrows raising up as you address him properly for the first time.

“See you around, Y/N.”

As he stalks off towards his favorite station--the spear throw station, you look around to see Clove watching you with an unreadable expression. Luckily, it appeared to be less murderous than usual.

Well that’s nice. Better than having her plotting ways to skin me.

It is not until you’re waiting in line for the interviews with Caesar to start that Clove finally approaches you.

“Y/N. Marvel said you would consider joining us in the arena. I look forward to it.”

You gape as you look at the girl, face heating up uncomfortably as you could barely register her words. She looked so…pretty.

The girl looks at you in concealed wonder, eyes twinkling with mischief. You’re confused for a few moments before you make eye contact with an amused Marvel behind her.

“You don’t look bad yourself, Y/N.”

The girl spins around and stalks off towards Cato who’s begun watching the three of you like you’ve all grown another head.

“Smooth. Didn’t know you had the hots for her. I guess you were quite happy that she was the one to ask for you.”

Marvel grins at you, and for once it’s not a condescending ‘I’m better than you’ type of grin. You groan quietly to yourself, too tired to even flinch when he swings an arm around your shoulder and drags you towards the line of tributes.

Well if the other tributes had no idea of your allegiance, they sure did now.

“So you’re with us then?”

“I don’t have any other choice, you’re already clinging to me like a barnacle.”

Cato smiles, oh so minutely, at your remark to Marvel, nodding at you with a reinvigorated respect that he didn’t seem to extend to many.

Glimmer’s pleased grin greets you briefly before she’s being ushered onto the stage, her face morphing into a blinding, albeit fake, smile.

And so it begins. Hopefully Finnick would be able to nab some sponsors for you.

Yeah. Some sponsors would be good right about now.

You were on the verge of just throwing yourself face-first into Cato’s sword.

Glimmer had a close call with a swarm of tracker jackers, and somehow in the mess Katniss managed to escape. To say your allies were pissed would be the understatement of the year.

Seriously, you were sure one of the trees began to wilt after being faced with the withering look Cato sent it.

”Y/N. Go with Clove to gather some wood.”

“Yes, dad.”

Cato looks around before shooting a quick middle finger at you, an exasperated twitch of the lip taking over his face for the briefest moment before defaulting to his usual grimace of contained rage.

You were sure he was somewhat fond of you considering he hadn’t tried to bite your head off yet.

You round on your heel, habitually twirling your trident over your wrist. Clove is not far behind you as you dart your eyes around the trees.

“Once I get my hands on fire girl, I’m going to tear her limb from limb.”

“I have no doubt you will. Can’t say I’m her biggest fan at the moment. She was aiming to snatch Glimmer’s bow, who knows what kind of devastation she would reign upon us if she succeeded. Good thing one of us managed to wake up.”

“Hm, pretty smug for someone who was cuddled up on me all night like a toasted log.”

A laugh manages to slip through your lips and you’re positive everyone watching back at home is convinced you’ve lost your mind. Seriously, laughing from actual joy during the Hunger Games while stranded in a pack of groomed killers is not the sanest of activities.

Honestly, you would give anything to see how Finnick was coping.

You look back quick enough to catch a pleased look wash over Clove’s features.

Before you could even stop yourself, a river of words flew out of your mouth and you were stuck between not caring and being mortified.

“I meant what I said by the way. You’re really pretty.”

Your remark must have caught her off guard as she suddenly stops midstep, an unnerving silence blanketing around the both of you.

“It’s a shame then, that we met here of all places.” Clove’s words held no bite, though the bitterness in her tone was evident to anyone with a good set of ears.

Taking a hesitant step towards her, you slowly and shakily reach down for her hand. Clove looks down at your fingers, swiftly meeting you in the middle and clasping your fingers together.

“It’s not so bad. After all, we wouldn’t have met if not for the games. I’m glad I get to spend what’s left of my life here with you guys.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Clove’s sudden fury was not aimed at you, but at something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“You’re right, who could have foreseen me getting along with Cato of all people.”

“No. I mean don’t talk like you’re already dead.”

Clove’s stern words take you by surprise, and a sudden tightness constricts your throat as you swallow down a wave of fondness.

She was looking at you like you could actually win this whole thing. Like it didn’t matter to her if that meant she would have to die.

She steps towards you, a vulnerable glint flecking at the usual indifference of her gaze. Her mind was trained to be a killer, but District 2’s Academy did little to train her heart.

You bring your free hand to cup her cheek, breaking into a watery smile. Leaning over, you press your lips firmly on hers.

Suddenly it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that your moment of vulnerability was being televised to the rest of the nation. It didn’t matter that Finnick was probably dragging his hands down his face in exasperation in the District 4 apartment. It didn’t matter that someone could break through the tree line and jam a knife into your neck.

Clove kissed back with the same amount of fervor, hands slowly rising up to hug your waist.

Fuck. You were ready to throw your life away to make sure she made it out of here. And all it took was her pretty little freckled face and her fiery eyes.

After what seemed to be an eternity, you both pull away for air. You gently brush her cheek with your thumb as she gripped your waist tighter.

“I’m going to make sure you go home, Clove.”

Before she could retort, you both snap out of your little moment as voices approach from behind you.

“Fuck. See, I told you! Wood, my ass! They’re sucking face!”

Marvel’s voice rings through the air and suddenly your three allies are approaching you both, donning similar amused looks.

“I guess this note makes a lot more sense now.”

Cato’s words only serve to confuse you until he holds up a sponsor package along with a note.

‘Tell Y/N that she’s killing me -F’

“He has a flair for dramatics.” Glimmer’s words were just so incredibly ironic that you and the others had to make effort to bury the thought.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

[alavestineneas]

Home

pairing: catohadley x fem!reder

summary: He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price. warnings: canon-typical violence; mentions of meat (as in reader owns a butcher shop); trauma and poverty word count: 6k

author's note: hello beautiful people! In honour of my birthday, I am posting about this bad boy today. Hope you like it - it was such a fun thing to write! Enjoy!

The stones under his worn boots are changing quickly; they are coloured in all shades of grey, sometimes with funny black dots on their rounded bellies. Cato would stop and collect a few if it wasn't for the important task at hand: Mom sent him to the butcher's, letting him take the thinly metaled coins for the first time, which are now snugly stored in the pockets of his raggy coat. He has the order memorized; Mom always buys the same. Three pig legs for the soup, which are then added to the porridge she cooks, and two bottles of the cheapest milk on the counter. It's good for the bones in his body, she says, and Cato believes her. Soon, he will start school; he has to be strong to get the chance to try out for the academy.

The butcher's is just around the corner; it's the only shop in their block that is always open. And, although the signboard is already faded, it is still his favourite place to visit. The door opens with a creek, and a small bell over Cato's head sings its cheerful melody. He takes a few steps inside, the colourful counters greeting him with all kinds of meat and sausages. He reads the curved writing on each of the signs carefully, trying out the way the letters come together in words. The sound of rushed steps is the only thing that breaks his mesmerization. They are soon changed by the grunting of the wood chair on the old tiled floor, and then, finally, a head pops up from behind the stands.

''Good afternoon!'' A pair of curious eyes stare at him, a smile missing a few teeth serving as a second greeting. ''What can I do for you today?'' the girl asks, changing her cheerful demeanour to a more serious, business-like tone.

Cato straightens up, his fingers finding the coins. He is a grown-up now; no other four-year-old he knows is allowed to go to the butcher's by themselves. ''I am here to buy meat.''

The girl laughs, her hair shaking with her mirth.

Cato feels the redness creep to his ears—of course, he is here to buy meat; everyone does. ''Why are you behind there anyway?'' he mutters, crossing his hands in front of himself. He thinks the girl should stop now; it's really not nice to laugh at others.

''Grandpa went to trade for bread and left me as the captain here,'' the girl boasts.

''That's a shame.'' Partly because Cato liked Grandpa Marc—he always sneaked a few pieces of candy for him and his brothers at home—and partly because he didn't like the little know-it-all. ''I would like three pig legs and two bottles of the cheapest milk,'' he declares in one breath, careful not to mess up. He isn't sure he can take another wave of her laughter.

''Sure,'' the girl nods, packing the meat in a big brown bag. Cato patiently waits as she moves her chair to reach the milk shelves, stopping before them. ''Which one again?''

''Shirley's.''

The girl doesn't move; the flowers on the back of her dress are still facing him.

''Shirley's,'' he repeats a little louder. Cato feels silly again; he doesn't like the mean girl and the way she teases him. ''Are you stupid? The one with the blue cap is Shirley's.''

''Right,'' she finally grabs it, moving to the register. Her hands work quickly, wrapping the goods and putting them together. ''The meat is this much money, '' she scrambles the numbers on the piece of paper lying nearby, ''and milk is this much.''

Cato goes over the symbols, carefully counting the total in his head. ''Here,'' he says, reaching for the money. ''And you wrote the two here wrong—it should be facing the other way, like a swan.''

''Oh. Sorry about that. Is this with change?'' She points to the colourful coins on the wood.

''Don't you know how to count? You need to give me 50 cents in change.''

''I do!'' she argues, her hand slapping the counter. ''I was just, hm, testing you!''

''Sure. Then why are you giving me two dollars back now?'' Cato raises an eyebrow. Part of him wants to laugh at her, just like she did moments ago. But he doesn't. Instead, he swaps the coins for the right amount, giving her the money back. ''Here you go. All good.''

''Thank you! Have a nice day!''

Cato nods, grabbing the bag and exiting the shop with a light heart. He did what his mom asked him to; she will be very happy to know that. The air is warm, and the soft wind is hitting him right in the face. In no time, Cato is home; the door is never locked. He places the bag on the kitchen table; Mom will see it when she puts the baby to sleep. His third brother - the other two are sleeping on the big bed in the children's room. That used to be his, but now he is a big boy—he sleeps on the couch in the living room, right near the kitchen. He likes it here; the baby's crying is not as loud, and he can see Mom as often as he wants to when she cooks.

There's not much to do right now; it's the ''quiet hours'' in Hadley's house. Usually, Cato would go play outside at this time, but instead, he grabbed the big book from the kids' shelf. There, with big, red letters, are all of the alphabets and numbers. It was his favourite. Cato remembers how mom would sit with him on her lap, her soft finger circling every picture. ''This is one. Look, it has a tiny nose, just like you do! Here, give me your hand—that's one finger you have, little gentleman!''

Cato throws one last glance at the closed door to the parent's room—he decides that mom won't be mad at him if he plays not in front of the house for once—and grabs the book, leaving the still place. This time, he grabs a few of the prettiest rocks on his way—he builds bridges and castles with them in the small creek behind their house. The butcher's is still empty when he gets there; the girl sits on the tall chair, drawing on the paper.

''What are you drawing?'' Cato asks, trying to see, but the counter is too tall for him to reach.

The girl doesn't look surprised to see him here; it's like he never left in the first place. ''It's worms. Papa worm, mama worm, and little worm. They are having dinner.''

''What are they eating? Meat?''

''No,'' she said, shaking her head. ''Meat is expensive; they have no money. They're eating a dirt pie. Here,'' the girl climbs off the chair, sitting down on the floor instead. Cato sits down near her, looking over her shoulder. ''They have small plates and spoons.''

''My dad doesn't like pies. He likes potatoes more.'' Cato thinks meat is better than pies and potatoes, but he doesn't tell Dad that. The girl tells the truth: meat is expensive.

''Where is he? At work?''

''Yeah, at the factory.'' Most people work at the factory—that's what Cato's dad says. They go when it's dark outside and Cato is still sleeping, and they return when the clock shows all zeros. Then, his dad eats while his mom drinks tea, and they whisper about something. ''And yours?''

The girl shrugs. ''I don't have one. It's just Grandpa and me. What is this?'' She points to the book in Cato's hands, and he finally remembers why he came.

''That's my book. It has numbers. Do you want to see?''

The girl beside him nods, and Cato smiles. He opens the book and proudly shows off the beautiful pictures. The girl likes them; she listens carefully to what Cato has to say about each letter. He likes it when he doesn't laugh at him.

-

''Good morning, Grandpa Marc!'' Cato greets the man behind the counter, cutting up yet another piece of meat. It's early, but he already stands in the butcher's, his dad's old bag on his shoulder. They can't be late for the academy.

''I'm coming, I'm coming!'' YN shouts, biting into the apple in one of her hands and tucking in her shirt with the other. ''Bye, Pa, see you!''

They both passed the exam for the academy; only four people from their neighbourhood did. They got the chance only because they were ''exceptional'' students, the only four whose training was free for now. The debt will be paid by them volunteering or after the academy through their future salaries. Cato knows that no one is actually able to pay it off; he will volunteer as soon as possible. YN will go; they agreed to go in different years.

That's how it always was with them—they walked to the academy and home together, trained, and learned together. Cato helped Grandpa in the shop, and YN often looked after his brothers. It was the endless stream of jokes from everyone around—you never saw one without the other, not even on the rating board. That was until year nine.

''I decided I'm not going to sit with you at lunch,'' Cato tells the girl walking beside him on the dusty road.

YN doesn't answer right away; she watches her feet instead. ''Let me guess—you will be with the mayor's son and his pack?''

''As a matter of fact, yes. They are my friends, and they invited me to sit with them.'' It annoys him the tone she is using.

''They are not your friends, Cato. They only do that, so you will volunteer for them when the time comes.'' YN is angry; her hands on the straps of the backpack are tightly clenched.

''So what? I'm going to volunteer anyway, so why not sit with them? There is nothing to do here, and they are always hanging out at movies or something.''

''Oh, so that's what it is about.'' YN stops, turning to him. ''You want to be one of them now.''

''Of course, I fucking do!'' Cato exclaims. ''We are dirt poor, YN. I don't want to live all my life in this shithole.''

YN's face changes; her eyes look at him as if for the first time. ''This is home, Cato. This is where we belong.''

''I don't. And I will find a way out of here, and you can stay in this mud as much as you like, but I will not let you drag me down with you.''

She slaps him. The hit is heavy; they are both trained to take blows, but it stings him more than it should. Cato watches as YN leaves, her quick steps echoing on the empty street in the morning fog. He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price.

-

YN can live without him as much as he does, she tells herself. She didn't decide to ruin the friendship, so she won't be the one to apologize, no matter how long the silence lasts. If he thinks that she will run back to him after four months of not talking, he is wrong. YN is fine; she still has two friends at the academy, she still has her grandpa and the beautiful sun above her head. It smiles at her every time she walks home alone, filling in the small gap in her chest with its golden rays. Her new companion.

What she doesn't expect is a group of people in front of the shop; they shout and argue, running around with ice and water in their hands. YN runs too; something happens. Fear rises in her stomach and travels to her throat when she sees the white coat of the doctor standing near the counter, a concerned expression on his face. ''I'm sorry,'' he tells her. YN clutches her bag, trying so hard not to cry as the crowd of familiar faces surrounds her.

He fell while trying to reach for the shelf, and a customer found him unconscious on the floor. Grandpa broke seven bones in his body and damaged his head. They are taking him to the hospital for, god knows, how long. The doctor places a hand on her shoulder; the cost of surgery is covered by the state, but she needs money for the medicine. They don't have any.

YN spends an hour crying into her pillow before pulling herself together—she is alone. It's not some stupid game they play—they pretend to win for years in the generated arenas in some big green boxes—it's life. The most brutal arena of all. So, she does what any fifteen-year-old would do—she washes her face with ice-cold water and grabs the keys from the shop. She has to speak with a few people.

-

The door to Hadley's home is never locked; nobody closes it in their neighbourhood, but YN still knocks out of respect. Cato opens it; she is surprised he is here and not with his new friends. He wants to say something, but YN has no time for him.

''Is your dad home?'' YN asks, trying to look over his shoulder.

Cato nods. ''Come in. Mom, it's YN.'' He shouts, closing the door behind her.

''Ah, YN. How is Grandpa Marc?'' She is cooking something—a big pot boiling with the best smell one could imagine.

The woman's concerned face stirs something in YN, so she fights the urge to cry and swallows her tears instead. ''Alive

''Come sit with us; we were just preparing to eat.''

YN wants nothing more than a plate of something warm, but she declines. She came here not to lessen the portion of someone; nobody here has money to make extra food. ''Thank you, but I need to speak with Mister Janus.''

''Spill it.'' Mr. Janus nods, standing up from the couch.

''Can we speak outside?'' YN asks, feeling a pair of blue eyes on her.

''Of course,'' Mister Janus shares a look with his wife before stepping outside. ''What happened, kid?''

YN takes some air inside her lungs. ''Is there a place for me at the factory for the night shifts?'' The man opens his mouth to argue, but YN is quicker. ''I know I am young, but I am strong from all the training, and I know a lot of useful things. I can reach where most men can't, and I will do anything you ask me to, I promise.''

Mister Janus sighed. ''I know you are good, but what about the academy? Night shift is six to six; you won't have time to get enough sleep and do the homework.''

''I quit the academy.''

''What?'' Mister Janus's face changes. ''YN, why? It's the only chance for you to survive.''

''Work is the only way for me to survive. Poverty and an empty stomach will kill me much faster than some games. I need the job, Mister Janus, please. If you don't give it to me, I will look for it elsewhere.''

The man thinks, his forehead creased with worry. ''Fine, kid. But be careful—get enough rest and don't push yourself too hard. We are here to help if you need us to.''

''Thank you, thank you so much!'' YN smiles, a few tears escaping her eyes. She hugs the man tightly, a glimmer of hope finally appearing. ''Thank you, Mister Janus; I will not let you down!''

Mistes Janus smiles back, patting her back. ''Go before it gets too dark; I'll see you tomorrow at five thirty.''

He watches as YN turns the corner of the street before returning to the warmth of his house. How much do these kids have to endure in this world?

-

YN didn't push herself too hard; she simply did what she was supposed to do. At six, she returned to the shop after the shift at the factory—butcher's opened at eight—so she had two hours to wash the dirt and sweat away with the old basin and a little warm water from the kettle and to master something edible on the stove. When that was done, she would dissect the meat and check the dates on milk bottles; the soon-gone bad would go to the sale section, and the new ones took their place. Then, the doors of the butcher's opened—people still needed to eat, and YN wasn't about to let them starve because of her own ''tiredness.''

The heaviest flow was in the morning, with the shop becoming quieter in the afternoon—that's when she took most of her sleep in, resting her head on the wooden counter and closing her eyes for a second. Oftentimes, customers would find her like this—they gently shook her shoulder and woke her up before ordering. Each time, YN felt shame creep to her cheeks, but each time, no one said a word to her; they just smiled, thanked her, and left the shop with a big brown bag in her hands.

That's how the rest of the year passed, with it becoming slightly easier when Grandpa was finally discharged from the hospital. His right arm didn't move like it used to, and it was hard for him to walk, but it was still better to have someone home to return to. Besides, he insisted on still serving the customers, so YN had an opportunity to sleep in her own bed for a few hours before a new portion of cut meat was delivered.

That's what she thought about standing in the main square in a crowd of children—how much meat she needed to cut before her shift. Grandpa was also here; some man had to hold him up so he wouldn't fall from being on his legs for too long, but he could at least enjoy the fresh air, which YN was grateful about.

The reaping was going quickly; the girl named was from the academy, so they didn't have to go through all that volunteering. YN didn't know her personally, but she saw her a couple of times; she was good with knives. As for the boys, it didn't go as smoothly—some poor eleven-year-old's name was called out, and he burst out crying on the spot.

''I volunteer!'' the voice boomed through the street, and YN turned with everyone to see who it was, although, in her head, she knew the answer.

Cato. He walked to the stage calmly, his legs conquering the steps in no time. He looked determined and happy, but YN knew better—that's what they taught them to present. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. Killers. She hears distant cries from the crowd behind her—it's probably Miss Hadley. YN clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding together until her head rings. It isn't the time for her to break.

-

Cato can't bear to watch his mother's puffy face as she clenches her arms around him, whispering something like a prayer into his chest. His father is silent, a lonely tear escaping his eye as he holds Cato's youngest brother closer. The twins are also here; both of them are at the academy, so they have a faint idea of what he is doing. They tell him he will win because of how big he is, and that will be very easy. Cato smiles at them reassuringly—if only it were that easy.

''Dad,'' he nods in the direction of his crying mother.

''Come on, darling, you will upset him before the games,'' his father tells her, carefully pulling her way and placing a hand on Cato's shoulder. ''Stay strong, my boy. We will all be rooting for you every second you are in that arena; don't forget that.''

''Thank you, dad. Boys,'' he watches as twins show each other away, trying to get to bed first. He hugs them both; he has two hands for a reason. ''Behave and don't bother mom too much, or I'll have to kick your ass once I get back,'' he whispers into their heads.

The youngest one waves goodbye, blowing him a kiss. Cato smiles, watching his family leave the room. He wants to remember this moment forever, to put it in his pocket, and to never let it go. He knows why he is doing this—for them to have a better chance at life, for his father to finally have a day off, and for his mom to have new pots she secretly gazed at when she thought he wasn't looking.

''Hadley. Seven minutes.'' The peacekeeper announces, opening the door once more, even though Cato doesn't expect anyone else. Well, he hoped she would come—he really wanted her to—but he believed she never would. YN is not the type. Still, she is here. Closing the door behind her, in a simple blue jumpsuit and a nice scarf around her head.

''Hi,'' she nods. ''I came to say goodbye.''

Cato's heart skips a beat—those words hit harder than seeing himself on the big screens, with a tribute written under them. Soon, he may be dead; she will watch him on her small TV in the living room.

YN speaks quickly, almost in a rush. ''I know we don't speak anymore, but I know how you fight—you are capable of winning more than everyone else out there. Please, just don't think too much about what you are doing; just do it, okay?''

''Yeah, I'll try.'' He finds it weird that she doesn't want him to think, but Cato doesn't question why—she does know him better than anyone, having been training for a lot of years side by side.

''You have to return; your family needs you.''

''Don't worry too much about them; we already got the money for my volunteering from the mayor. They will be fine; dad can still work, and twins could help out. You have enough on your shoulders as it is. How is Grandpa Marc?''

''Better. He can't move like he used to and still needs help with walking and eating, but other than that, it's good. Although he is devastated that I didn't let him handle the meat, you should've seen how he tried to sneak a few knives at night.''

Cato's lips turn into a smile. ''That does sound like him.''

''Oh, I almost forgot. Here,'' YN rumbles in her pockets before taking a few pieces of candy out. ''We thought you should have a few.''

''You are kidding me? Lucky-talkies? I haven't had one in ages!''

YN laughs at his excitement, carefully placing the sweets in his hand. ''I know. They are as hard as they used to be; don't chip your tooth; it'll look bad at the promotion.''

Cato chuckles, pocketing the candy before his mentors have a chance to take it away. ''Thanks, YN. For everything.''

''I'll give you as much as you want if you don't die in there. Just try to stay alive, okay?''

''Easier said than done. But I'll try.''

YN smiles. Their time is up. The peacekeeper opens the door for her, his gun tangling dangerously around his neck. She doesn't turn around as she exits; her walk is steady. Cato thinks that he caught her shoulders shaking, but it could be just a twist of his tired brain.

-

The days after that are agony. YN doesn't know if it was her tiredness that finally caught her in a narrow corner or the grim reality of her life—it was definitely both. Even her favourite silent friend didn't cheer her up like it used to—the sun shone almost violently, burning her skin and leaving her body dizzy. The rotten cycle was now worsened by the non-stopping playing of what seemed to be a thousand screens, with stomach-curling screams echoing from time to time. They were everywhere—at the shop and their small flat above it, on the main square she passed each day, and, what was worse, they were at the factory, where she couldn't pretend to watch even for a second.

The work she does is heavy—carving the stones on the machinery bigger than her; her muscles were constantly aching, begging for a break. The suit she wore was too tight and too hot, and the annoying voice of the announcer blared through the speakers, stealing the air in her lungs. YN wanted nothing but to make it stop—for the world to go silent and still, even if just for a moment. But wonders didn't happen with people like her, so she continued to work, pushing herself through her gritted teeth.

''Welcome, welcome to what seems to be the last day in this beautiful arena!'' The blue-haired man spoke, his accent making YN's head hurt even more. ''To remind our dear viewers all across the Panem, here is a small recap from my colleague and sometimes friend, Claudius.''

''Thank you, Caesar. We are left with only three tributes on day eighteen—the first, of course, being Cato from District 2. His strategy has proved efficient so far; no doubt, he is one of the best contestants we've seen in a long time. And then, much to my surprise, a pair of tributes from District 12 are still in the games—their love story truly captivated the audience. Let's see what this day, or should we say night, brings us today and who will have the odds in their favour in the end.''

YN doesn't react to their comments; it feels wrong to compare herself to the kids out there, being selfish enough to think she deserves a break. She should be counting her lucky stars; it isn't her there, going through the bodies of the competitors one by one. Cato received body armour from the sponsors; that was good. He also lost his district partner; YN remembers her now; she was in his ''new'' friend group. She feels sorry for the girl; her death was awful, and her screaming Cato's name will forever be engraved in YN's memory.

''Aha, here he is! Our gladiator from District 2—he is running from—what's that?—wolves! Look at that speed—he surely is a good runner!''

YN turns her attention to the giant screen—surely enough, Cato is running from some monstrous creatures. He is bloodied; his skin is covered in bruises. YN prays it all will stop soon and he will get home safe. He doesn't even flinch when the arrow shot by twelve hits his chest; he just keeps running towards the Cornucopia.

''Please,'' YN whispers. He can't die, not when he has survived for so long.

''Look at them—all of the tributes managed to get on the Cornucopia just in time! Oh, here is a clever move from Cato's side: having Peeta in a headlock is a classic move. Now, he is sort of a ''human shield''. Brilliant!''

"Go on, shoot.'' Cato's voice booms through the speakers, sending shivers down YN's back. She missed hearing his voice, but it didn't even sound like him anymore. Like a stranger talking from the inside of what looked like her friend. '' And we both go down, and you win. Go on. I'm dead, anyway! I always was, right? I didn't know that until now. Isn't that what they want, huh?''

What the fuck was he doing? YN's mind raced—why won't he just kill him and get it over with? She doesn't notice how her hands begin to shake and how everyone else in the room seems to be eyeing her.

''No! I can still do this. I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do. Bring pride to my district. Not that it matters."

''Kill him! For fuck's sake, just kill him!'' YN stands up, her nerves getting the best of her. Her voice echoes—she didn't mean to say it out loud.

''No talking!'' The peacekeeper in front of her shouts, his hand steady on the gun.

YN turns to face him slowly. Who was he to tell her to shut up when it was her friend who was dying right before her eyes? She feels her hands clench into fists; she will be able to take him down in a fight, maybe even kill him. YN was willing to try, at least.

''She won't talk no more,'' one of the older men in the group mutters, his voice bitter. ''Sit down, child.''

YN wants to argue, wants to scream or run until the bullet catches up to her, but she doesn't. What use would her dead body be to her grandpa? So she sits down, biting her cheek until her mouth fills with a familiar iron taste. Everything she wants to say, she tastes in her throat instead.

''Wait, can we zoom in on here?'' One of the announcers asks. ''Here, yes, what exactly are they staring at? It fell from Cato's pocket, right?''

'''Well, Claudius, it looks like a candy wrap to me. The real question is: why does Cato have one in the first place? He didn't strike me as a big sweets fan. ''

''Well, whatever it is, it seems to have changed his mind—look at how masterfully he throws Peeta down, like a feather! Oh, and now he is lurching for the girl on fire!''

A loud snap is heard through the speakers, and the girl falls, lifeless. YN covers her face with her hands, the dirt from them leaving a mark on her sweaty face. A choir of relieved exhales rings through the room.

''Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have our 75th victor!''

- 

It's hard, the first thing Cato realizes. Being here, breathing in the air that feels like spikes inside his lungs—everything was supposed to be easy, but it's so far from that. They have a nice house now; it has a room for each of his brothers, and even twins don't have to share anymore. His dad doesn't work; it's not fitting for victor's family to do so, so he takes up gardening instead. If a few years ago Cato heard that his father would ramble about how badly roses had grown on this soil, he would've checked himself into a mental asylum.

He isn't very loved in the Capitol, but his mentors said it was for the best. Cato believes them, but it stings a little. He wanted glory but got disgusted instead. It was not a fair trade, but at least his debt is paid, as is his brothers'. Money could buy a lot of things, just like he predicted, but it couldn't buy him peace. Cato has nothing ahead of him; he can't study like his peers do, can't work, can't live, and pretend it didn't happen. It very much did—when he closes his eyes, he can still smell the blood on his hands.

That's why he is here instead of Victor's village, eating ice cream on the empty main square in the warm evening. It's funny to think how he wanted to try it, collecting the money his father let him have for almost a year before ordering his first chocolate scoop. It was the tastiest thing he had ever eaten; now, it tasted just like every other one.

He hears the nearing footsteps—the people are returning from the day shift in the factories. Cato nods to a few of them—old neighbours, parents of classmates, or dad's friends. The men are all different—short and tall, ginger, blond and brunette—but they all bear the same expression that Capitoleers called ''a district 2 glare'' once. Cato used to get angry when he heard it, but now his face is no different—the word is a heavy thing to endure.

His eyes drift to the only person looking up and not on the road ahead—of course, it's YN. She thinks about something only she and the sun know, her steps mirroring those of the people ahead. One of the men notices him watching; he gently shoves her shoulder, whispering something in her ear before pointing in the direction of his seat. Suddenly, Cato wants to hide the ice cream in his hand and run away, but he doesn't.

''Enjoying your victory, Mister Hadley?'' Her voice is loud and filled with teasing, and a few men snicker at them.

Cato isn't angry; he deserves it, quite frankly. ''Always was known for the sweet tooth,'' he shrugs. ''As a matter of fact, are you free any time soon?'' He asks when the crowd is far enough away.

YN raises an eyebrow at him. ''Why is that? You know I work.''

''I was hoping you and your grandpa could come by sometime. Mom is awfully lonely, and the boys would love to see you, too.''

She nods. ''I am free on Sunday, but Grandpa is still a little shy about eating in front of people.''

''I'll ask mom to cook a soup then—it's better?'' He would cook the damn soup himself if it meant seeing her for longer than five minutes. If it meant not being alone in that house, that reeked of the arena.

''Yes, I think we can do that. What about 12? We could be a little late with all that walking.''

''Thank you; it's perfect.''

YN smiles at him. For the first time since he won, someone smiled at him. Cato smiles back, although he is sure it comes out more as a grin. YN doesn't notice or pretends to do so.

- 

''Oh, come in! Janus, come right down; the guests are here!''

YN and her grandpa are greeted with Miss Hadley's voice, her warm hands wrapping first around her, and then the older man. YN smiles; she missed just sitting down for a meal without having to worry about how much money she was going to need for the next one. The boys have grown. They shout, each trying to be the first to show her their own rooms and the cool things they have. YN tries not to get lost in the maze of toys, balls, books, and a thousand other different things, while Grandpa talks with Mr. Janus.

When the boys start to embark on what feels like a fifth circle around the house, Miss Hadley puts an end to it. ''That's enough! YN, darling, come sit here—what would you like to eat?''

The table is full of different things. There are so many that they could eat for a few weeks and be full. YN doesn't think she saw that many vegetables and fruits in her life. She asks for what everyone is having and is happy to have her plate full. Grandpa also seems to be enjoying himself; he insists on wearing his best shirt for the occasion and now listens attentively to what the twins have to say. They make a good team, YN thinks—twins finally found free ears that are not yet tired of them, and there is nothing that Grandpa loves more than a good story.

When the dinner is over, YN speaks, talking to Miss Hadley beside her. ''Thank you for the invitation; your house is just lovely.''

''Cato made us clean every corner of it before you came—I didn't even have time to play outside!'' The youngest boy whines, pouting slightly.

YN chuckles as she watches colour gather at Cato's ears, his eyes glued to the dish in front of him. ''Well, it was definitely worth it—I had the most marvelous time with you here. And the food was delicious! But I am afraid we have to go; Grandpa should walk when it's still light outside.''

''We will take you home,'' Cato announces, nodding to the twins to put on their shoes. They do so happily, grabbing them and their jackets before Grandpa has a chance to stand up and stick to his side like glue.

The evening is pleasant; the wind is quite chilly, but Cato doesn't mind. The only sound on the street is twins arguing over who will help Grandpa Marc with his cane for the next two minutes.

''Thank you for coming,'' he says, looking at the woman walking beside him.

''Of course. We had a good time, - I hope you did too. How's life been? We haven't talked in a while.''

''Good,'' Cato lies. ''And yours?''

''Better. Since your dad quit, I got the day shift; it pays better, and I can finally get rid of those horrible dark circles.''

Cato nods. ''I've been thinking a lot about our past these days, especially our childhood. It feels like a lifetime ago.''

''Things change,'' YN shrugs. ''We've grown and become different people since then. I would've never imagined working at the factory, but here I am. And you win the games—that was your dream.''

''Don't you miss it? How easy were things back then?''

YN smiles. ''They never were easy, I think; we just couldn't understand them properly. Besides, not much changed, if you think about it.''

''Maybe not for you.''

''Why?'' YN turns to look at him.

Cato swallows. ''YN, they made me different. The games, all those kills—they changed me.''

''You did what you had to survive. It doesn't matter now that you are here.''

''You think I don't notice how people tiptoe around me now? How can Mom stand to look at me for more than a minute? How do boys try to avoid me at all costs? And dad—he doesn't even speak to me! ''

YN is silent. Cato curses in his mind—he shouldn't have said that. He takes a deep breath. ''I'm sorry. It just feels weird. It's like I don't have a home to return to and can't get into a new one. Just hanging there, mid-air.''

''When Grandpa was in the hospital, that's how it felt. I was too young to be alone, but there was no choice but to watch as everything I once loved fell into ruins. I was supposed to be going to movies, partying, and sneaking out, not juggling the bills from medication and the shop. But life decided otherwise. So, I built my own home within myself—one that nothing could tear down or take away.''

''I don't think there is anything left to build on. I'm not like you; everything anyone sees when they look at me is a monster .''

''I don't.'' YN stops. ''I see the boy who brought me a pretty big book with pictures so I could give the change correctly; I see a man who volunteered for his family to have a chance at a better life. I see you, real you, not the role mentors or Capitol made you play. Just Cato.''

''Can I hug you?'' His voice is barely above a whisper.

YN doesn't answer - she just takes a step closer into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

''I'm sorry; I am so sorry for everything I've done," Cato mutters, his hands trembling as he holds onto YN tightly. ''I should've said it sooner. ''

''It doesn't matter now. We survived this; we are still here, you and I.''

Cato nods; his tears mix with hers, pooling in patches on his shirt. They are different—children who were forced to grow up too early in a world that wasn't for them. ''I think I never lost it—my home. It was always here, with you, on this street. Isn't it funny? All those years of searching, only to return here, where we truly belong?''

''The butcher's, you mean? If you wanted more candy, you could've just asked,'' YN smiles, whipping away her red eyes.

-

''Fucking finally,'' an aged voice mutters from behind the corner.

''Grandpa Marc!'' the twins turn to him, surprised.

The old man just smiles, his wrinkled face appearing younger with joy. ''Don't tell YN I said that. She'll never let me live it down."

The twins giggle, their happy laughter echoing on the street. A few moments later, Grandpa Marc joins in, his breathy laugh adding to the chorus. It's not the first time the street leading to the butcher's was woken up by sounds of joy, and he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

[catoscloves]

i love katniss's absurd observations of other people that she doesn't care about. she is absolutely a kind and empathetic individual, there is no doubt, and extends mercy towards people she dislikes/outright hates but if she can't remember your name because you haven't made an impression she will literally just be like "oh yeah sly cunning girl from district five. foxface. district six tributes that are clearly addicts. the morphlings. monstrous boy from district two" etc etc and it's. extremely funny

[swanimagines]

THE HUNGER GAMES AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR THE HUNGER GAMES

Cato

Peeta Mellark (coming)

Finnick Odair (coming)

Marvel (coming)

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for The Hunger Games or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Hunger Games Masterlist

general masterlist pinned

Cato Hadley - I'll keep us safe

Adding more soon!

[lunassentials]

Notice!

I'm back my lovelies.

1st year of Uni has been a rollercoaster, but over easter break I've found myself wanting to return to writing and have had a burst of new ideas after being devastated I lost my old works in progress.

I'm a little bit obsessed with the Hunger Games right now, so any requests or idea are welcomed, though I will be putting some stuff up soon. Once it's proofread.

Besides the original characters of the series, I've also created some of my own based on the universe, so please feel free to check them out and request for them if they tickle your fancy.

Please check out my main blog @celestialqueen13 for more information.

May the odds, be ever in your favour!

[nickeverdeen]

Hunger Games masterlist

Match up (for all listed characters):

Finnick Odair

Peeta Mellark

Johanna Mason

Gale Hawthrone

Peeta Mellark #2

Katniss Everdeen

Preferences (you can choose any characters you want):

The Hunger Games characters getting jealous

Sorting what’s your district:

Nothing yet

Katniss Everdeen

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Peeta Mellark

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Cato Hadley

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Dating Cato Hadley

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Clove Kentwell

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Gale Hawthrone

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Finnick Odair

Imagine

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Johanna Mason

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Dating Johanna Mason

Johanna x single!mom girlfriend who has a smart-ass kid which loves Johanna and when Johanna gets sick the kid won’t leave her side

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Corionalus Snow (young)

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Lucy Gray Baird

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

[ervotica]

could I please get a Cato x soft/quiet gf reader she’s really good at hiding and when he’s training or even talking with friends she sneaks a kiss when he’s not looking and disappears until one day he finally catches her and gives her a real kiss💓

pairing: cato hadley x fem!reader

summary: you hide from cato when he wants a kiss. he always finds you in the end...

hunger games masterlist

Cato has always thought you're charming in a sort of elusive way; you're not a particularly social creature, quick on your feet and opting to hide and duck out of people's line of sight before they've even spotted you. It's endearing, truly, but it tends to frustrate him when all he wants is a kiss from you.

Cato's practicing his knife throwing in an empty field lined with dummies. He brings his elbow up and over his head before letting the blades cut through the air and thwack as they lodge themselves in the targets every time. You watch, entranced - perched just out of his line of sight - as his muscles ripple and flex with his movements; you imagine how they feel under your touch, his warm skin under your hands.

He's just thrown the last one when your cold fingertips graze his waist; his t-shirt has ridden up to expose a pale sliver of skin: ridged abs and a line of blonde hair that disappears beneath his low hung shorts.

He reaches out but you're too quick, ducking under his armpit and snaking up his front for a chaste peck before you're off again.

"Hey!" he yells as you disappear up a nearby tree. "Come back!"

He crosses his arms and plants himself at the roots of the tree, glaring up as you keep climbing. You giggle, traversing the length of a particularly thick branch and wrapping your legs around the width of it in order to hang upside down. Your hair forms what can only be described as a halo as you swing from side to side and grin.

"Cato," you hum, sing-song voice taunting him. He creeps closer and tries his luck in catching you. You're faster, snapping back up to lay horizontally on the branch, too high for even your hulking boyfriend to reach.

"Come here!" he huffs, brow knit as he stares up at you. You only scrunch your nose and raise an eyebrow and his tone changes like the flick of a switch. "Baby, please. C'mere."

You only shake your head and wiggle your fingers at the blonde boy and he seizes the opportunity, locking his fingers with your own as they reach for him enticingly. Your eyes widen and you shriek as he tugs and you come toppling down rather unceremoniously.

Of course he wouldn't let you fall and you land in a heap in his arms, hair static and frazzled as he sets you down.

“Cato!” You scold. “That’s not funny!”

He presses his chest close, his face burying in the juncture of your neck as he kisses and nips at the soft skin there.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” he murmurs, big hands squeezing the fat of your hips. “You kept hiding from me.”

You pout and push lightly at his chest, forcing him to take a step back.

“Awh,” he coos, pressing a thumb to the plush flesh of your lip before he’s leaning in for a kiss. No chaste pecks or soft, fleeting moments- he’s determined to get a real kiss from you, all tongues and teeth and heaving chests as he steals your breath.

The only sounds to be heard are the whistling of wind and the soft smack of your mouths as he kisses you with fervour. Your hand comes up to his neck, fisting the short hairs at the nape to pull him closer. You feel his smile against your mouth.

“This is all I wanted from you,” he snarks, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as you chase his lips to keep him quiet.

“Shh,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as he bites into your bottom lip and soothes the pain away with his tongue.

He pulls away heavy lidded and breathing hard.

“Caught you.”

[i-upset-to-dead-65]

How I imagine Snow's progression of being reminded of Lucy Gray throughout the Hunger Games trilogy

1. Katniss volunteers. How cute. She has no chance of living past the bloodbath. Her name sounds familiar.

2. Katniss scores an 11 in training. So what she shot an arrow at the game makers. Well, that 11 will put a target on her and she's no match for the rest.

3. Peeta reveals he is in love with Katniss. What an interesting angle. Definitely some kind of ploy. Viewership will be up, as well as sponsors. Interesting to see how this plays out.

4. Katniss is trapped by the careers and Peeta. Aw, look, she dropped a hive on her boyfriend. Looks like she doesn't like him after all.

5. Katniss allies with Rue. Odd, and a terrible choice for an ally.

6. Rue mentions her pin, a mockingjay. The connection is made. Katniss, that swamp potato dug up by Lucy Gray and her mockingjays that still infest the districts. His dislike for Katniss grows.

7. Rue dies and Katniss sings the Meadow Song to her. A jolt runs up his spine. That old song, sung to Maude Ivory by Lucy Gray. It's still around in District 12 and now it's on national television. Snow knows how much the Capitol loves singing tributes.

8. The new rules are announced. This will be interesting. Of course, there's no way Peeta will live long enough for there to actually be two victors.

9. Katniss and Peeta are in the cave, and Peeta begins to recover. The huge influx of sponsored gifts is concerning. Katniss will hopefully die at the Feast trying to get medicine.

10. Peeta makes a full recovery. That wasn't supposed to happen, but the Capitol loves it.

11. Cato dies. Seneca didn't think they'd get this far. Time to revoke the rule change. Katniss will kill Peeta or vice versa. These children barely know each other, and in the Games they resort to their basic human nature of violence. Oh look, she's even pointing her bow at him.

12. The berries. The double victory. Seneca Crane is a dead man. They have outsmarted the idiot game makers. Snow is once again reminded of his cheating in order to help Lucy Gray win. How well that turned out for her in the end.

13. After the games. Snow is certain they are putting on an act to survive and meanwhile, defy the Capitol. Peeta is good with the crowd and is quick witted. So much like Lucy Gray. Katiss is impulsive and heartfelt. So much like Sejanus.

14. Snow learns Katniss hunts in the woods, he possibly traces her lineage, and he finds out everything he can about her. Snow takes measures to quell the rebellion brewing and control Katniss and Peeta throughout Catching Fire.

15. Katniss's wedding dress burns away into a Mockingjay dress. That damn bird again.

16. The force field gets blown out, and tributes escape. Snow recalls when the 10th Hunger Games arena was bombed.

17. Katniss's first propo is televised in the districts, declaring herself the Mockingjay. He should have killed all those birds when he had a chance.

18. The Hanging Tree propo airs. He'd almost forgotten Lucy Gray's songs. How could this girl, now, know them? The song was banned, Lucy Gray was dead. She was dead, right?

19. The rebels in District 5 sing the Hanging Tree while blowing up the damn. Chills run up his spine as he watches the live feed. A crowd of an indiscernable number flood the walkways to the hydro dam. They're singing a song they didn't know yesterday. A song no one knew until now. A song that was as dead as Lucy Gray. Except, she wasn't dead. How could she be, if her song is still sung? The dam blows and the lights go out in the Capitol. Snow half expects the ghost of Lucy Gray herself to appear before him.

20. The war is over. The Mockingjay has won. She appeared from nowhere, echoing the songs of Lucy Gray like the birds themselves. Well played, Lucy Gray. Well played.

[aquanova99]

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Part 9

Prev <<

Next >>

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Y/n’s POV

 Your legs struggled to hold you upright. You’d avoided the sleep as much as you could. Only resting when your body physically couldn’t handle anymore. Even then never any longer then a few hours, when their screams woke you from any chance of rest. You realize that you somehow didn’t lead Cashmere to your room at all, you’re not sure when they took over but then again, that’s what your life consisted of now. Living from one day to the next, not entirely present. The woods help, but you haven’t been able to pick up any weapons since you got back to 12.

 Cashmere gently leads you to your bed. She tells everyone she’ll keep watch first, and while it reminds you of the games. It also brings you a sense of security that is finally overshadowing the horrors threatening to take you back at any moment. You ponder over Cato’s words. Allies. You could work with that. It dawns on you that there’s likely a reason they know exactly how to handle you in this state and your heart both aches and wonders monsters haunt their own dreams. Regardless, you feel like you can at least finally get some sleep.

 “Thank you.” You mumble

 “Its not easy, is it?”

 “The sleeping? Not really.”

 “The living. Its like they left a part of you in that arena. They don’t understand, do they?” Your lips form a tight line. You barely shake your head in response before covering your head with the blanket. It’s exactly what you tried to explain the first week you got back. That was the worst of it. The screams you let out terrified your family. Then their fear turned into impatience. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t happy or relieved. With the lack of sleep your own patience was hanging by a thread so you simply shut down. This only infuriated your parents who continued to scream at you for being so callous and disrespectful. You were somewhat thankful they hadn’t moved into the house in the victor’s village. You needed to deal with whatever was going on alone. Your brothers however, disagreed and decided to stay with you. They pretended they didn’t hear anything, and truthfully, you didn’t want to talk to them about that stuff anyway. Your mom continued to try and at least speak to you but her concern would quickly turn to anger and you often just waited her out or sneaked out when you saw her coming to the house. You would sometimes sneak back in and hear her talking to the older one about not understanding what was wrong with me. You didn’t understand it either. Haymitch was often the one who you tried to talk to at first but he dealt with his demons differently and you weren’t ready to turn to the alcohol… yet.

 So. In the end you went to the one place you knew you could hide, the woods. You were being reckless. A victor, walking straight to the meadow, a week after returning. You walked as if you were in a trance, a hand yanked you before you made it even ten feet into the meadow. You were lucky Katniss dragged you towards her house as if you had planned meeting there. You’re pretty sure she was going to scold you too until she got a proper look at you. She said nothing, just sat with you at the edge of the meadow. When the sun began setting she somewhat pushed somewhat led you back home. The next day she showed up to your house and dragged your out again. She didn’t say anything that day either. The day after your curiosity won out.

 ‘Why are you doing this?!’ You snapped

 ‘Because you look like me.’

 ‘…What?’

 ‘When my dad left…we struggled. You did too, but back then I was so mad that your father made it out, I couldn’t talk to you anymore. And we stopped being friends. Anyway—I looked like you do right now. No sleep, not eating, trying to not bother anyone with it. I was about to give up. But I got help, and I never got the chance to say thank you.’

 You realize immediately who helped her, ‘You mean…’

 ‘Yeah. When you won, we all saw how hard it was on you. I’ll never be able to repay him, or thank him. But you saved Prim, and me because I would have volunteered.’

 ‘I don’t want your pity Katniss.’

 ‘It’s not pity.’

 ‘It is—’

..

. . .

..

 ‘We could have been hunting partners.’

 ‘Yeah.’

 ‘When I figured out how to hunt, I remember wanting to go to you for help. I know you’re the one who taught Gale how to snare. I just wanted to be the one who got to keep something that once. And... I guess I was embarrassed? I’m sorry.’

 ‘Don’t be. I never blamed you for that. I’m more upset you chose Gale as your partner. I would have been much better.’

 ‘Ha!’ Katniss laughs, before pausing, ‘Look when you were gone I realized I didn’t need to be mad at you. I really am sorry. I want to be friends again.’

 You could only nod. Katniss was good at talking when she let herself open up. With Gale in the mines now, you and her spent any free time she had usually just sitting together in the woods. She even let you help out her family with food now. You learned Peetas father only traded rabbits with you but squirrels with Katniss and always on separate days. You were shocked  when you learned Gale finally tried to be more than friends with Katniss. You were even more shocked when Katniss wasn’t interested. She never wants to marry or have kids, not with the games. She’d never seen Gale like that. Madge often joined the two of you and it was the three of you simply existing together, or Madge would lead the conversations which you didn’t mind.

 The hands that grabbed yours stirred you from your perpetual state of limbo. Shaking you awake. While you were happy to see Cato, you were quite shocked to see him and Brutus arrive. You were suddenly very aware of how disheveled you looked. You noticed how warm Cato’s hands were when he stopped you from further hurting yourself. Maybe you should have worn a sweatshirt. Your entire body slumped, it felt as if you were letting them down. The image of their disapproving glances would be forever embedded in your mind. You had been prepared to let them go to one of the other house in the victors village until at least tomorrow, but Cashmere’s idea was so…well, brilliant. And tempting. To know for at least the next few hours, you could rest. You wondered if Katniss would come if you didn’t go meet her out by the meadow.

 Three days before the victors arrived the rains began,  house. Your moms were excited to have their kids make friends, so they quickly began talking again, and neither of you wanted to be there for long. You both were quick to find the right moment to leave during the gossiping between the two older women. You had agreed your moms could start making mixtures and tonics for their small apothecary business. And you didn’t need all that food anyway, better it went to those in the seam. Katniss probably preferred her own home to yours and you couldn’t fully disagree. The second there was a lull you led Katniss away from the kitchen and into the living room.

 …‘So, what victors did you pick.’

 ‘Cashmere and Enobaria.’

 ‘Why?’ You glared at her and she eased back, ‘Sorry, but come on y/n. Careers?’

 ‘Yes careers. Look, I have to. I…owe them.’

 Katniss raised an eyebrow before standing up, ‘It’s hot. Do you mind if we open the window?’

 The floors would get soaked. ‘Yeah go ahead.’

 She sat closer to you and waited, oh well. You really should tell someone that’s what Haymitch said. Then again, when has he ever followed that advice? Whatever. ‘You know how I got sponsors?’

 ‘Yes.’

 ‘They only sponsor people who they think have a chance, thanks to Cinna and my…training score. I had quite a bit. Some of them expect me to pay them back.’

 Realization dawns on her face, ‘Not with money…’

 You shake your head, ‘Haymitch said Cashmere always has to go to the capitol, I just thought she deserved a break. She’s not the only one, Haymitch said Finnick sometimes has to go more than she does from what he’s heard anyway. And Enobaria… I don’t know. She was punished too.’

 You’re barely whispering but Katniss doesn’t interrupt, ‘Punished?’

 ‘They modified her. Or her teeth I guess. They wanted to modify me. They said they would try and figure out a way for me to not be called back to the capitol.’

 You’re unsure if the rain or your stories make Katniss shiver. ‘People aren’t going to like it here.’

 ‘I don’t think I care anymore. The only person I need to keep happy is Snow.’

 ‘I’ll play nice.’

 ‘Nice nice. Or Katniss nice.’

 She smirked at your poor attempt at a joke, ‘We’ll have to see won’t we, cousin?’

  You could have slept for the next six months. But the four hours sleep brought on a hunger you thought you couldn’t feel anymore. When your eyes fluttered open you found Cato pacing.

 “Are you okay?”

 He slightly flinches at the disruption, “Hungry?”

 You wonder if it should concern you how he seems to always know what you’re thinking, you smile, “Starving.”

 A smirk appears for only a second before he sits at the edge of your bed, his leg feverishly tapping. He holds something out, refusing to look at you. “Here.”

 “What is this?” You turn over the pen like object, trying to make sense of it.

 “If I start getting anything like Arioch or you just feel unsafe use it. You just flip the tiny lid and lick on the button.” You almost drop as you realize what he handed to you, you hold it with both hands as if it could detonate at any minute. You would rather take your chances. Unfortunately, he again seems to know what you’re thinking, “Y/n, listen to me. You have to use if something happens. I move quick.”

 “I don’t want it. Why are you giving it to me?”

 “It’s just in case.”

 “I. don’t. want. It” You hold your palm out flat ready for him to take it back. Instead, he closes your fingers around it. Finally staring you down.

 “You have to take it. Please. I would regret if—I just can’t—” He groans in frustration as he tries to figure out what he could say to convince you this is a good idea, “ Just take it. Alright? If I lose it I need to trust you’ll help whoever is around me. That includes yourself.”

 You hate that you understand where he’s coming from. While your natural instinct is flight, Cato’s is the opposite. You run. Or hide. Any stressor lately big or small makes you want to run into the woods. Lately you run to Katniss, or hide in your room until someone drags you out. Cato instinct is to fight. You wonder how much training it took to build that up and how much more time it would take to not have that be his immediate reaction. Similarly, while you may feel like a coward, Cato felt like a monster. A menace to others. Rationally, neither of you were either. And you knew that. But you also knew that in the moment its easy to let your body do what it needs to do to survive on autopilot.

 You realize the two of you have been still for too long. You are suddenly very aware of warm his hands feel around you and before you face heats up you nod in reply to his request. He seems to realize the same and promptly lets go, he gives a curt nod before standing up.

“Come on, lets go get something to eat.”

 “Okay.”

 Your brothers seem surprised to see you. “Well, you don’t look so terrifying anymore.” The oldest says

 “Shut up.” You push him, “Besides a four hour nap is not going to make much of a difference.”

 “Well, it’s a start.” You can feel the careers staring at the three of you talk, as if its bizarre that you talk to each other at all. You realize how crazy you must have seemed earlier, and how inconsiderate you must look like now.

 “Sorry about earlier. Thank you guys for agreeing to come.” You turn to Cashmere and Enobaria, and the former walks up and envelopes you in an embrace.

 “Thank you for choosing us.” She whispers, you nod and she smiles at you, “Your brother told us the best thing to eat when it rains here is stew so they were kind enough to start cooking for us all. Let me cut up some fruit for you. Iti will be a couple more hours until its finished.”

 You’re thankful she seems to realize you cant handle more than a few bites of anything at a time so starting small brings you another small sense of relief. Enobaria comes up and asks if your feeling a little better  and you nod. Brutus has already excused himself to the living room before you can get a hello out. Enobaria glares at him but continues to the conversation, “So, Y/n. Have you given much thought to what your special skill is going to be?”

 “Special skill?” Your youngest brother asks

 “Apparently, all the victors have to have something they’re above average in.” You explain to him. Another fun little detail added to your list of ever growing worries. You try to avoid worrying him and ruffle his hair. “What have you guys chosen?”

 “Don’t worry about it, they don’t really care unless you make a lot of special appearances in the capitol. I actually enjoy mine though. I like playing instruments?”

 “Really?” The thought of Enobaria finding something brought a smile to your face, “what do you play?”

 “Flute.” She smiled at you, she whispers the next part loud enough for the room to hear, “Brutus starting wood carving, and Cashmere…”

 “Oh, I do what I can to be disgustingly busy. I model, act, whatever keep my schedules booked. Gives me less time to meet all of my ever so gracious sponsors.” She all bit spits out her next sentence, before pasting a saccharine smile on her face, “Not that they cant find me, of course.”

 You get a sick feeling in your stomach again, and your mind races back to that night. You quickly turn to Cato, “What about you?”

 “I think I said I wanted to train the kids at the academy. Then I was declared unfit for the time being unfortunately.” No one misses the sarcastic undertone he uses for that final word. “Did you find something?”

 “Yes. I want to bake.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

   Cato’s POV

 Cashmere dropped the plate she was handing to y/n. And Enobaria started coughing after she almost choked on the water she had just begun to drink, you probably looked as shocked as they were.

 “Sorry.” Cashmere nervously chuckled, “I’m just surprised. That sounds like a lovely talent to build up on. It hasn—”

  “Upset me?” Y/n smirked, “It did the first time I tried it. Then I burned the rolls I was trying to make, and it made me laugh. It’s the only thing that’s kept my mind…quiet. I should do it more honestly but I was tired and I could barely get the bowl out of the cabinet. But that first week I got back and I realized I couldn’t do anything else, so I made a lot of it. Gave it out to the people in the seam. They liked it enough.”

 “Some came out pretty good, even better than some of the times we had some from the bakery.” Her youngest brother bragged for her. You couldn’t help smile at the pride in which they spoke of their sister. You’d learned the youngest one was called Amal, the oldest one Mallory. Both fiercely protective and worried at the state Y/n couldn’t seem to snap out of for very long. A few days of decent sleep should help, but the games had lasting effects.

 “Would it be okay if I tried to make some? They would go good with the stew. And I need the practice.”

 “Y/n, you realize we’re the guests, right?” Enobaria chuckled, “Do what you want, honey. Mal, do you guys have any board games, we’re going to be here awhile. I could use your help planning activities.”

 “Sure.” He looked at his sister, “You’re good?”

 “Yeah go.” She waved him off. Amal followed behind them, and Cashmere brought out a book to distract herself. You wondered why she hung around. Probably to have someone monitor you. You had been unable to hide the fact that you were content for the first time in who knows how long when Brutus questioned you. She’d only been asleep for a little over an hour. You had a sense of purpose for at least a little while. His words kept echoing through your mind. You swore your ears were ringing.

 You think you can help her?

 Just be sure you don’t kill this one.

 Enobaria had taken him away from you almost immediately afterwards. While his words stung, he was right. You were dangerous. You couldn’t even give Y/n the damn sedative without almost screaming at her. You wondered why Enobaria had told you take a shift sitting with her considering she seemed fond of her, it should have been a compliment.

 “Cato?”

 “Hm?”

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yeah, just distracted.” She smiled at you as she began taking ingredients out for her project. She asked that a lot. Though to be fair, you probably gave her plenty of reason for worry. You tried to order your body to obey you. Stay away, Cato. Keep your distance, Cato.

“Can I help?”

 “Would you like to?” Her eyes seemed to light up when you nodded. She was acting too kind. She should keep her distance after all your encounters today. You realize you’d put your hands on her at least twice and the thought of her comparing you to the creeps in the capitol… it would make you sick. You see Cashmere raise her eyebrows at and chuckle at something in her book.

 “What do I do?”

 Y/n had already measured everything out. She handed you a large bowl, “Just mix these up for me. She mixed her own ingredients before coming back to you, “Okay good just keep mixing while I pour this all in, okay?”

 Another nod. You had never had a chance to do something like recreationally. You could see why she picked it. This was a nice break. You wanted to do more, “What’s next?”

 “You okay with getting your hands dirty?”

 “Yes?”

 “Okay” She said in a sing song voice, as grabbed the dough with her hands, “I suggest you wash your hands. We’re going to knead.”

 “We’re going to need what?”

 She giggles, “Not that kind of need. Just wash up and I’ll show you.” So, you watch as she began forming the dough. You just copied her. Enjoying that your hands had something to do besides fidget. She separates the finished balls of dough in two separate bowls. “We have to wait for thirty minutes. Then we’ll mold the dough again.”

 “How’d you learn this?” You say as the two of you wash up?”

 “I went to the baker the second my family took their eyes off of me. I think it was late into the night. But you know me, I’m an endless supply of tears so I was crying and begging for them to let me apologize. His mom didn’t say anything, but his dad at least came out to talk to me. I told him I wanted to start baking…for him.” You wondered if she would ever be able to say his name again, “The next morning he brought me a book he put together full of his own recipes. I guess they all have one collective one but he was working on his own. I don’t know how they found it or why they don’t want it, and I don’t care.”

 “Do you think you would want to add to it?”

 “Maybe. I talked to Cinna about it, maybe he can get some recipes from the capitol. I just— I don’t know, the phone is weird to me.”

 “When do you speak to him next?’

 “Sometime this week, he’s been calling to check on me.” She sees the look of concern growing on your face and tried to steer the conversation towards a more positive direction, “You’re pretty good at this Cato. Maybe this should have been your talent.”

 “hm. I would have never even thought of this. Thanks, by the way. For letting me help.”

 “I hope you’re not backing out we still have a little more to do.”

 “Of course not.” Amal comes in almost immediately afterwards.

 “Hey, Y/n, Katniss is here. Enobaria doesn’t want to spook her she says. So, you need to open the door.”

 “And you can’t do it because…”

 He thinks about it for a second and shrugs, “I dunno, she likes you anyway.”

 He runs out just as quick and you, y/n, and cashmere laugh. Y/n excuses herself and follows her brother. Cashmere closes her book, you wonder how she remembers where she stopped. “So…That seemed…relaxing.”

 “I guess it was.”

 “She has an effect on people, doesn’t she.” It was question but was said in the way of a statement, or accusation of sorts

 “I guess. She never seems…scared by my company.”

 “Yeah, wonder why?”

 “I don’t know. It stresses me out.”

 “Well, you enjoy her company right? You don’t think she possibly feels the same?”

 “She shouldn’t.”

 She scoffs, “Oh come on Cato. You clearly care about her.”

 Care was a dangerous word in a victor’s life. She of all people should know that, “Like you said, she has an effect on people. I just don’t want her to end up like Annie. Or…me.”

 “Well. It’s a good thing we’re here, right?”

 “Hey guys this is Katniss. I was trying to convince her to take some food for her family but she probably got something better huh?” Y/n bounced in with a girl who was already on the defensive. You had been able to tell that Y/n was a hunter, you could see this girl was the same. You wondered if they worked together.

 “You would know if you came out sometime.” She answered. Y/n shrugged but her demeanor had changed. You decided you weren’t a fan of her ‘cousin.’ Still, considering y/n didn’t automatically shut down with her there must be some support offered.

 “Maybe, you could show us the woods sometime, Katniss.” Cashmere offered, ignoring the girls initial coldness. Every one’s eyes snapped to hers. “What?”

 “You would risk something like that?”

 “We risk our lives every day. Wouldn’t be much different/” Cashmere shrugged before returning to her book. Y/n seemed to nod in agreement.

 “So will you take some food for later?” Y/n asked after a long silence.

 “Sure. Gale hasn’t had much time to go out, I’ll let them have what I got.”

 This seemed to please y/n. She led everyone out to the living room while we waited for the food. It felt crowded to you. You stayed near the opening ready to hop back into the kitchen at the first available moment. Amal asked Katniss to join them and Enobaria as they set up a new game she wanted to try. You expected her to say no immediately, but Amal seemed to appeal to her. You remembered her sister, the one y/n volunteered for. Apparently kids are the only people she tries to be anything akin to pleasant to. Y/n leans against the wall next to you.

 “Want to hide in the kitchen with me?” You nod and follow her out of the room. You can feel several pairs of eyes trained on you. Though you don’t stay to investigate whose they belong to.

 Y/n perches herself on an empty counter, begins swinging her legs, “So how did you get stuck coming here?”

 “I was glad Enobaria decided she needed to keep an eye on me and bring me along. I didn’t get stuck on anything. Brutus maybe.”

 “Yeah he doesn’t seem too happy.”

 “That’s because no one’s fighting yet.”

 She chuckles for half a second before she seems to recall something that darkens her expression, “Can I ask you something?”

 “Sure.”

 “What’s District 2 like?”

 You blink, for some reason that’s the last question you’re expecting. “To be honest, the only thing I know is the academy I went to.”

 “Well, you had to have done something when you were younger before you joined, right? It’s just—I’m sure you miss home. I feel bad for taking you out.”

 “Actually…no.”

“No?”

“No I don’t miss it. And no I don’t remember anything outside of training.”

 Her brows furrow, “Wait. How early do you guys start?”

 “As soon as your parents decide you show potential I guess. I think my dad signed me up right before I turned four?” You don’t remember much outside of that training building but you couldn’t quite seem to forget the screams as you ripped out of your mothers arms. “My father was supposed to go in on his eighteenth birthday but some guy and him got into a fight. Broke his leg. Couldn’t even be a peacekeeper.”

 “So, he forced you to do it instead.” You shrugged, you would say it worked out in the end, but considering you weren’t doing all that great after the games… “He must be proud of you.”

 “…No.”

 She doesn’t miss a beat, you begin to wonder if she genuinely believes all the praise that seems to escape her lips, “Well he should be. Come on, its time to actually bake the bread. You should be good at this next part.”

 You both wash up before you say anything else. You had to remember you’re there to help her, not the other way around. She really doesn’t need to worry about your own problems, “So what’s next?”

 She holds one of the bowls out, “Punch the dough. Wait let me put the bowls down I don’t want to be knocked out.”

 You’re surprised at the size of the dough. This recipe was definitely made for a bakery. No substitutions. No wonder she was confident it was enough for everyone. You look at the giant pot cooking. They seemed prepared to cook for more than one family. She laughs as you weakly punch the first bowl. “Is this for your family too?”

 “Nope, my dad won’t accept handouts. I just give my mom money for whatever they need, he buys whatever excuse she uses. Katniss is taking some for her family, and I plan on making Haymitch eat. If there’s any left I can find someone at the hob or seam in general to take them. Now I know you can punch harder.”

 You obey and find yourself finding the whole thing humorous. You’re about to ask how you did but as you turn you’re met with Y/n opening her hand to send a small cloud of flour at you. You aren’t exactly sure how you know what’s happening but you get your own covered in flour and spread across her face. You begin throwing and swiping at each other, Your own laughter sounding foreign to you. It had been awhile, and yet since you’d arrived you had been more relaxed than you had thought possible.

“Okay, okay truce!” She laughs, “You win.”

 “You started it to be fair.”

 “True, I think we both needed to have… something. You know?”

 “Yeah, I do. But we made a mess.”

 “Yeahhh. I’ll start cleaning. Can you shape the rolls?”

 “If you show me how first.” She smiles and gets several trays out, she lines it with some kind of paper, and demonstrates how to small to shape the bread. You find your eyes don’t seem to stop watching, she begins shaking the flour out of her hair when Katniss and Enobaria come in.

 “What happened here?” Enobaria exclaims. You open your mouth to try and explain nothing dangerous occurred when Y/n speaks up.

 “Oh I forgot he’s never dealt with flour before so when I told him to grab some and drop it on the counter he grabbed too much and it got everywhere, and then I made it worse when I tried to stop him before it was too late. I’m about to sweep it all up.” You wonder she immediately covers for you. You know its best, Enobaria would believe her over you in a second. How she knows when you need help is beyond you. You remember the first night you met and how she diffused the situation with Brutus. How you’d felt indebted to her since. You glance at Katniss and can tell immediately she knows she’s lying. You continue focusing on the task you were given. By the time you finish y/n is ready to grab the trays and transport them to the oven.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

  Y/n’s POV

 Four years old?? It was no wonder the end of the games had left scarred and hollow. He knew nothing else. You wondered how any parent agreed to that. You hoped he would find a chance to find himself as separate from the games. You hoped to know him then too. You stop yourself from getting too hopeful, at the end of the day Cato, and yourself would never separate from the games. Every year you would be forced to relive it. Hell, in six months you would need to do just that for the victory tour. Where you would meet all the families of the tributes you had a hand in killing. Thresh, Rue, Marvel…Peeta. You would come face to face with people who hated you and wished you dead, that you had been the one to fall. You could never blame them. You often wished the same. The only bright side would be that you could apologize to someone, instead of screaming at whoever haunted your dreams that night to take you instead.

 “Y/n.” You really should try and not zone out so much, “what happened?”

 “Sorry. Just thinking about the victory tour.”

 “You still have a few months.”

 “Yeah I know.” You had agreed to go out with Katniss in the morning, Madge said she would try and join you as long as her father didn’t try and keep her in some lecture or meeting. Today it was just the two of you. Better to not have Katniss force herself to interact with the careers until she could see that they were just like you. A product of the hands dealt to you. Slaves to the capitol. Their stories seemed to make the slightest of cracks in Katniss. While she would often say she only cared about Prim, Katniss simply cares. She’s says you have to be born a healer like her mother and sister, but in her own way Katniss is just that.

 “They weren’t terrible.”

 “Oh?” You both chuckled as you ate the breakfast you supplied for the two of you. Today would be all snares. You would try and worry about fish tomorrow. Anything else is fair game, well you say that but you haven’t made any effort to shoot something down. She made a decent haul, for maybe one family and some decent trading at the hob.

 “Give it to Hazel. They have more mouths to feed.”

 “I don’t want to take more food from you.”

 “Okay keep that for your family then. Gale will love if I just give his family money to buy food tonight.”

 “He doesn’t have to know.” She grumbled

 “Yeah because you know Hazel or Posy wont let it slip, right?”

 She let out a sigh of defeat, “Fine.”

 “Don’t worry Katniss, you’re paying me fair and square. Who else would hang out with me?”

 “You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes, “See you tomorrow?”

 “Yep!”

 You stop by your old home and leave an envelope with some cash in the window of the kitchen. You wonder if your dad will ever admit to him needing some kind of help. You think about going to see Haymitch, but you also know he’ll be too hungover this early for guests. Back home it is. You think about how you’ll have a new routine for a while, and dread when it will have to come to an end.

“You slept better last night.” Enobaria greets you

 “I did have backup.” You smile at her, she gestures for you to meet her in the kitchen where a cup of tea awaits you. “I wish you guys never had to go.”

 You must have said that rather grimly because Enobaria rests her hand on your arm, “We don’t have to worry about that for now…But believe me, I think I may be growing fond of this place.”

 You smile and let warm liquid sooth your throat, “What’s the plan today?”

 “We are going to talk about the games and any questions you have. Technically, we have lessons on customs for every district but we will ease into those. Today you just ask away. Just because you half slept one night doesn’t mean you’re ready for anything too intense.”

 “What’s the overall goal?”

 “For you to sleep on your own. And for you to be able to use a weapon again.” You don’t need to ask why you would need that second part, “Exercising can help with a lot and when you realize those tools don’t always have to be weapons anymore…well maybe you wont sleep with a knife under your pillow.”

 You didn’t. But, truthfully you didn’t sleep at all until last night, so I guess that makes sense. You’d learned Haymitch did and so did Cato, and you wouldn’t put it past Brutus. You feel as if there is more to what Enobaria is saying but those goals sound exhausting enough as is.

“So, where’s everyone else?”

 “Cashmere is organizing the lesson plans as we speak. Cato is probably tossing in his sleep. Brutus is probably out of commission again since he decided he would stay with Haymitch.” Your blank stare makes her laugh, “I know. But I also know how much of a clean freak he is and considering he came in twice last night for supplies, I’d bet he just fell asleep from cleaning.”

 “So, it’s just us for a while?” She looks slightly nervous at the question and nods, “Can I start asking questions?”

 You see her release some air, “Of course.”

 “What do you in the training academy?”

 She blinks as if she is trying to recall everything that happens in the building, she was forced to grow up in, “Everything. When your young…god I hated this part. They would start by trying to make you cry. They would put you in a room with toys or tell you your parents were here to pick you up, basically anything to get you hopes up. Then they would immediately terrorize you or tell you that you’ll be unwanted unless you win the hunger games.”

 You turn on the same mask you wore when you were forced to watch the recap of all of your fellow tributes dying. You learned that they would run until they physically collapsed. Some kids began trying to fail so they could get kicked out and return home, only to find that they had disgraced their family. If you weren’t quite meeting expectations you were forced to go into peacekeeper training. Boys and girls had different dormitories, the older kids of each room would be forced to attack the youngest one to enter the room every time they aged up, only stopping when the victim would stop moving. They would fight against each other didn’t matter the gender weekly, the harder opponents you faced and defeated would mean you would get more points added to your score. The highest eighteen year old was then selected to enter the hunger games. They day before the reaping the boy or girl with the highest points in any age group could challenge the volunteer. You remember Clove being fifteen. You avoid asking what she did to get that spot. You trained every day with whatever weapon you wanted to perfect. When they weren’t handling weapons they would be running or swimming, or figuring out hand to hand combat. They would practice ambushes, and would torture them to get them to figure out new ways to escape from possibly stronger opponents. She tells you at one point they will wrap a rope around your neck and you have to figure out how to escape before choking out. No one is allowed to discuss that day’s training. They would often times be starved on occasion to make the kids angrier and more likely to pick fights, weed out the weaker ones.

 “…I used to wish I was from any other district. But you’re trained to believe it really is the best thing that could happen to you. Win a fight, get points, have a certain number of wins on your belt, get an extra day off.” They only got one day of rest, and no one could do anything but sleep those days. You learned about the extra survival classes that were offered on top of the already long and brutal ten to twelve hour days. You could trade in those points too, use them to call or see your family. Only the younger ones opted to do those. The older kids saved them up for chance to make it to the games.

 “Then you win the games, come home to a family who has no idea who you are besides a bragging right. And if you lose, your family is next to shunned.”

 Her voice is low and you can no longer hold in your tears. You do the only thing that you can think she need and embrace her. Your life was hard, but you knew before you were more than someone who was going to die for the capitol. Enobaria, Brutus, Cashmere, Cato…who were these people outside of the games. Who did they become when they realized killing did not bring them honor? How long did it take them to accept that murdering their fellow tributes left the hollow, angry, lost? Were the nightmares something they were used to or was it a byproduct they were never warned about? How much exactly did they leave out?

 You don’t find it in you to say you’re sorry. Enobaria did not want pity. You step back to give her space, “You are all so strong for making through the program alone. I could never—”

 “I’m not all that strong, you know? I actually almost lost my games.”

 “Wha—really?”

 “It came down to us two thanks to mutts and weather. Even running into each other was an accident. A girl from ten. She was strong. Besides the 1, 2, and 4 its 10 that makes the most winners. Or the ones that get the closest to winning. Anyway, I thought I would be faster. I don’t even know what I was thinking besides that that was it, it was now or never. Anyway, she had the weight advantage, somehow pinned me down after the very bloody fight. The only thing nearby that could actually end me was a rock, just out of reach. She had to lean to try and get it, she moved just enough to snap my arm out and then I remember rolling. I was desperate. I thought it was my ticket home… I bit down… sometime while we began rolling in the dirt.”

 You think about the desperateness that would bring someone to bite another person. How scared she must have been. You also understood. Dying in the beginning while unfortunate, at least it was quick. But to make it to the end and lose knowing you were so close, I mean to see your chance of going home slip from your fingers at the very end… You didn’t doubt that last tribute was the one who haunted Enobaria’s dreams the most.

 “I remember screaming after I stood up. Not in victory but shock at what I had actually done. The cameras wont show it for long but I actually tried to stop the bleeding in her neck…When I woke up I found my teeth like this. And I became a monster.”

 “You are not a monster. What they did to you…It doesn’t define you. I know it doesnt.” It cant, you start to think but as you say those words you realize how little you believe them. Like you were now expected to be, Enobaria was a puppet to the capitol. Her alterations rendering her to likely be alone forever, unless she was with fellow victors or training others to follow in her footsteps. She had said she refused to ever train at the academy and you couldn’t say you blamed her. You wonder about the repercussions for refusing to train more killers, more victims to the games, more victims to the capitol. Enobaria smiles weakly, knowing your words couldn’t be farther from the truth. Then again… you think about Cecelia, you knew she had made a family of her own, you wonder how she managed to do so and how she would manage if her kids were reaped.

 “Isn’t this a cheery discussion?” Cashmere came in and patted Enobaria who gave a sort of broken laugh as she wiped her face.

 “Hey, she asked.”

 “Its true. I really am sorry I was just—”

 “Don’t be, I don’t think anyone has actually cared how I felt about everything. I didn’t think it would be that emotional. Why don’t you go relax for a while? I want to see what Cashmere has set up and I probably need to compose myself and make sure Haymitch and Brutus didn’t kill each other.” She wanted to keep herself busy. You understood that.

 “Could you check on Cato for me?” Cashmere asks, “If he’s asleep be careful not to wake him up by his upper half, he can be a bit jumpy and well... you know about the knife.”

 “I know.” Great. Why did I have to wake him at all? You wondered if he was sleeping any better. You know Cato had been ‘keeping watch’ when you finally woke up. He only smiled briefly, said good morning and disappeared. You were pretty sure you woke up once in the middle of the night but you weren’t sure who shushed you back to sleep. When you find him in one of the other rooms you have to stop yourself from rushing him and asking him to wake up. He’s hunched over, it reminds you of…Peeta, at least when he was sick. But the similarities stop there. It was clear he was having a nightmare of his own, there were small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He almost looked sick. Sounded sick. As if he was forcing back pained cries or whining. You wonder what happened when someone got sick in the academy place, you shuddered thinking about it. After worrying he may actually be sick, you decide to check. You look around, you look over him, one hand is tucked under his pillow, probably clutching the knife if you were to bet. Damn. You’d have to wake him. You over by his legs barely shaking him before jumping back. His arm already swinging as you stand up.

 He has to blink a few times to get a hold of his surroundings, “Y/n? What are you doing? You could have—”

 “That’s why I woke you up from down here.” You interrupt, you didn’t want him to keep thinking of you as someone who was weak. Someone who needed constant help, or supervision. You do need help but he worries too much. And you already owe him a lot. You sit at the foot of the bed, “I just want to check your temperature.”

 “I’m okay.”

 “Will you just—” You decide to stop asking and press his hand against his forehead and then his cheek, “You feel like you just visited the sun.”

 He still seemed shocked you had reached over and actually checked. “I don’t feel sick.”

 “Be honest if you felt sick would you say anything anyway?” He says nothing, “Yeah didn’t think so. I’ll be back.”

 You rush down to the kitchen and pour another cup of tea and add some honey. You make sure to grab some fever pills and bring a couple of those. After debating it you make some toast as well and head back up. You half explain what’s happening to Cashmere and dash back upstairs as quickly as you can. You find him in the same position you left him in. Sat up, elbows perched on his knees, eyes down, mind entirely elsewhere. You sit on the foot of the bed again, checking to see if his temperature is lower, it wasn’t. He winces at your touch but doesn’t protest.

 “Sorry.” He mutters

 “You’ve literally done nothing you have to apologize for, here: eat, medicine, drink.” He nods, and starts chewing at his bread. You realize orders are what he’s used to and you immediately feel guilt slam into you. You feel your hands reach up to your arms as you wait, you start scratching with one finger, then tapping, you should stop yourself. You know exactly what this leads to but at the same time, it helps you realize where you are. Stops you from flashing back to the games. Cato uses one hand to grab one of your own and bring it down away from your body. He doesn’t say anything this time. Just keeps absentmindedly eating, and you wonder if he even realized what he did. You wait until he at least takes the medicine before standing up.

 “I think you should try and get some rest.”

 “Wait.”

 “Yeah?”

 “...Thank you.”

 “Sure, Cato. I’ll be back in a bit to grab the plates.”

 “Can you just... stay?”

 “You want me to stay?”

 “I could use the company.” You felt your own cheeks heat up but felt your lips elicit a small smile and nodded, he moved closer to the wall, “I wont swing at you I promise.”

 You sit closer but with your feet still hanging from the edge, in case he needed to get some rest without you there, “Sorry I’ve been making you guys have uneven sleep because of… everything. You shouldnt have taken a shift if you felt unwell.”

 “I think it’s a habit to just ignore those things. I’m sorry too by the way,”  You look at him, not wanting to keep interrupting him again, “You don’t have to keep me company. You don’t have to feel forced to be near me at all really…”

 The way he says ‘forced’ is like a slap in the face, you realize why he kept tensing every time you would be around him, even after he requested. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you to actually say yes, or because he was being polite… “Wait. Do you think I feel forced to be around you? Is it because of the party?”

 He doesn’t look at me, “Honestly, the last thing I want is to make anyone or well you to feel like you did with that…guy.”

 “Yeah he was a creep. But Cato, I genuinely enjoy your company, I have since the training center, besides I feel like you should be tired of me by now. You’re always helping me out.”

 He let out a sigh, “Oh thank god. I thought I was making you upset.”

 You laugh, “Nope.” You both smile at each other before you realize he still hasn’t had very much sleep, “You really should sleep.”

 “I don’t want to.”

 “Can you try?” He lies down and shrugs

 “Sleep isn’t going to come.”

 “Yeah I know…You know when my Amal was really little he would only sleep if my mom or I rubbed his back. Especially when he was sick. Maybe I can keep watch, just you know maybe don’t hold on to the knife.”

 “That’s not your job,”

 “Well you cant do your job if you’re too tired to do a good job.”

 “Fine. I’ll try.”

 “Good.” You wonder why back scratches feel so comforting when you’re sick. Within minutes Cato’s body seems relax. Tension visibly leaving as his breathing begins to get steady. You wonder again, how often he had to pretend he wasn’t sick, and if he was punished for it. After about thirty minutes you decide he is well enough asleep. After two more hours, Enobaria brings you some food and informs you Haymitch and Brutus haven’t in fact, killed each other yet. You only manage to place the food on the nightstand when Cato wakes.

 “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

 “You’re still here?”

 “I told you I would keep watch.”

 “But you actually stayed here?”

 “Yes?”

 “Why?”

 “It helped me sleep to have someone watching out for me. I figured I could do the same for you.”

 “Well…thank you.”

 “You sound surprised.”

 “Usually, people listen to me when I say I’m fine.”

 “Well, you also lied about feeling sick, so I just have to assume all your gut reactions will be lie about what you’re feeling.”

 “I guess I do. I don’t try to…”

 “I know. I do the same thing, remember? We’re all broken here.”

 Cato starts to get up, slowly, as if he has to think about which muscle needs to move. “Im so tired that. It’s exhausting.”

 “Tired of what?”

 “Being broken.”

 It sounded stupid to say ‘me too,’ especially when he had been fighting his demons much longer than you have. You just nodded and turned to him, a mistake. He was much closer than you anticipated. His eye were a piercing blue, you looked down, finding yourself unable to move, “I uhm…I wish I could help.”

 “You help a lot more than you realize.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun @themedsaintworkin @tiktoks-aphrodite @fredweasleysgirl16 @callsign-haze @thestrals-and-firewiskey @dreamsarenicer

[cloveswifey]

Hatred

Parings: Cato Hadley x Fem!Reader

Type: idk even know

Y/N had always known Cato. They were both from District 2 and had attended the academy together. They had hated each other since the first day they met. Cato was confident and arrogant, always sneering and making comments about Y/N's abilities. Y/N, on the other hand, was always a little afraid of Cato. He had a reputation for being ruthless and brutal.

When their names were called as tributes for the Hunger Games, Y/N knew they were in trouble. Cato had made his feelings clear, with remarks like "get ready to die" and "my sword is going to be in your chest soon." But Y/N had a secret.

She had feelings for Cato…

At the training center, Cato mocked Y/N, saying she was "useless." But Y/N didn't let that get to her. She proved him wrong by always hitting the target with a bow and arrow. She even caught Brutus' eye, impressing him more than any other District 2 tribute.

During their interviews, Brutus and Enobaria told them to act in love to give the Capitol a show.

Y/N and Cato both knew it was just a ploy, but they went along with it.

One by one, they went into their interviews with Caesar, putting on their show for the audience.

But tensions were high. Cato was furious at Katniss' fire dress display, muttering "that bitch on fire is dead" under his breath.

Y/N could sense that something big was going to happen - that Cato was going to lose his cool sooner rather than later.

During the blood bath, Y/N nearly got killed. Cato had to kill others to save her, and he teased her for it. But secretly, Y/N wondered why he helped her when he clearly hated her.

As they moved through the arena, Cato continued to dangle Glimmer in front of Y/N's face, flirting and teasing her to make her jealous. It worked - but it also made Marvel jealous, as he had his eye on Glimmer for a while.

When the tracker jackers attacked, Y/N was stung badly. Glimmer died from the poison, and Marvel was hit with an arrow to the heart.

Cato and Y/N were the only careers left.

In a surprising move, Cato and Y/N made a truce to work together. They knew they needed each other if they wanted to get out of there alive.

Seneca Crane, soon announced that two winners could become victors, and Y/N knew that she had a chance.

As they moved through the arena, Cato's leg was badly injured by Thresh's sword. They took refuge in a cave, and the tension between them was palpable.

It was then that they shared a kiss, something that had been building for a long time. Y/N knew it was foolish, but she couldn't help herself.

She had always been drawn to Cato, despite his arrogance and cruelty.

When they finally made it to the Cornucopia, they were faced with Katniss and Peeta. Y/N knew they had to act quickly if they wanted to win.

Cato managed to push Katniss off the Cornucopia and into the mutts, leaving only Peeta. Y/N took aim and released an arrow, hitting Peeta in the heart.

Cato and Y/N were victorious. They were the only ones left in the arena, and they had a chance for a new life. In the end, Y/N knew that she had fallen for Cato, despite his flaws.

Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. And who knows? Maybe they could find happiness together, now that they were both victors.

[welldonebeca]

the devil in the marble - masterlist

Summary: First love is always a little foolish; you look at the person by your side and plan a life with them with the ease a child has at imagining a fairytale. It’s feverish and impatient, with new experiences and new feelings, and a comfort one has never felt before. After being asked to pose for a statue months before the 74th Hunger Games, Cato falls in love with its beautiful and odd sculptor. Pairing: Female!Reader x Cato (District 2's Male Tribute) Warnings: Fluff, falling in love, canon compliant, pre-74th Hunger Games, District 2. Tension. Hurt/Comfort.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 Chapter 9 on Patreon (3rd of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 10 on Patreon (10th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 11 on Patreon (16th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 12 on Patreon (23rd of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 13 on Patreon (30th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 14 on Patreon (6th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 15 on Patreon (13th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 16 on Patreon (20th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 17 on Patreon (27th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 18 on Patreon (4th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 19 on Patreon (11th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 20 on Patreon (18th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 21 on Patreon (25th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 22 on Patreon (1st of June 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3)  Chapter 23 on Patreon (8th of June 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 28 /Chapter 29 / Chapter 30 / Chapter 31 / Chapter 32 / Chapter 33 / Chapter 34 / Chapter 35  (on Patreon)

(more)

"the devil in the marble" was posted on my Patreon on June 2022. To read all 23 available chapters now and have early access to the last arc as it is posted, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Taglist is open.

[alavestineneas]

☆ masterlist ☆

Hunger Games:

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Nothing we can do - chaper 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 - finished

Soul - one-shot

Johanna Mason x fem!reader

Together - one-shot

Alive - one-shot

Clove Kentwell x fem!reader

Forever - one-shot

Silence - one-shot

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Losing dogs, prt 2 (Poisonous bites) - finished

Glass and mirrors, prt 2 (The start reborn) - finished

Cato Hadley x fem!reader

Home - one-shot

House of the Dragon:

Aegon II Targaryen x OC series:

 King’s will - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - paused

Dune:

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader

i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest -> and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room? -> prt 3

[thesweetnessofspring]

I'm convinced that Snow was the one who came up with the "rule change" in THG (idc what the movie did with it--they didn't know TBOSAS and it was less than convincing they way they did it).

Just think about it. We start off the Games with Katniss's courageous action volunteering for her younger sister. Then Peeta did something radical. He decided to follow through on his declaration of love to Katniss and did everything he could in the arena to save her. Getting sponsors, teaming up with the Careers, getting Katniss to leave and fighting Cato for her. Can you imagine what that was doing in the Capitol? In the Districts? How could you watch someone do that and not hope for a happy ending, even as Peeta lay dying in the mud, whispering Katniss's name?

And then Katniss teams up with Rue and is devastated by her death. She stays with her, sings to her, until she dies. Bolstered by Peeta's words about not being a piece in their games and finally getting what he means, she decorates Rue with flowers. She honors her life and her unnecessary death. District 11 recognizes this and even though they have another tribute alive in the Games, send Katniss the bread.

In Snow's mind, everything about the games is starting to crack. Young love being selfless, sisterly affection defying the Capitol, comradery fostering between districts. He simply can't let it go on. He has to remind people in the Capitol and the Districts that this is not human nature. He is going to prove that. So he tells Seneca Crane to announce the rule change.

He expects Cato and Clove to make it to the final two. In their new advantage, they will become a deadly, mostly healthy team. Meanwhile, Snow can see that Katniss doesn't hold the same care for Peeta that he does for her (she had tried to kill him with tracker jackers, after all). Even if she goes to find him, she'll abandon him once it gets too hard, too dangerous. The hope of love triumphing will be met with annoyance at his injuries and agreeing to stay behind and not get his medicine. And even if she does, he'll still be too injured to truly be useful.

But things go awry. Thresh saves Katniss because of her kindness to a little girl he, too, saw as a younger sister. He kills Clove, bringing about Cato's wrath. And Katniss Everdeen turns out to be a better actress than expected.

No matter, though--once the rule change is revoked, the truth of the stripped-down human nature will come out. Oh, Peeta will throw out the ravings of a teenage boy high on hormones, but people will remember how awful they truly are when Katniss puts an arrow through his heart. After all, Snow's made that decision before. His lover or himself. Death in the woods or life with riches in the Capitol. It's easy, really, to make that decision. And people will remember even the best among them, even she who willingly risked her life to get medicine or volunteer for her sister, won't avoid killing in order to survive herself.

But Katniss calls their bluff, and Peeta goes along with it. They've chosen to protest the Hunger Games with their deaths. Seneca makes the call to announce two winners. Really, Snow was going to kill him either way. Someone has to be publicly accountable for the place he's in now, and Snow certainly isn't going to take credit for his idea. After this, he tries and tries to get Peeta and Katniss to have to kill each other. The Quarter Quell. The hijacking. But it never works. And not just because of them, but because a whole nation finally stands up and says Enough. We won't let this go on anymore. In the end, Snow was entirely wrong because he never truly understood love.