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aquanova99 · 9 months

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Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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A/N: I have been writing like a word a day I am struggling to find happiness and motivation in writing so I apologize for any delay. Hope everyone is doing okay out there!

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Y/n’s POV

The subtle shift immediately caused your eyes to spring open. You stayed frozen, hoping he you still needed to actually wake up. That this was all a dream of some kind and you hadn’t actually had the nerve to trap Cato by falling asleep on him.

Yeah, right. Life has never been that kind to you. You slowly unglue yourself from his shoulder and take even longer to face him. Before the apology leaves your lips, Cato interrupts.

“Did you sleep okay?”

The question takes you by surprise. The genuine concern in his voice makes it hard to discern whether or not he is upset at your clear disregard for boundaries. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was that tired. You were probably uncomfortable.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve slept that good since before the games.”

“Me either.” The realization finally hits you. This is the second time you’ve felt safe enough to let your guard down. You wondered if it was simply because your body knew there was someone else next to you. Part of you wondering, if it only applied to Cato. No. Things were complicated enough as it is. You look up again to find him intently staring and realize he seems to waiting for a reaction.

“I should go meet Katniss.”

You don’t wait for a response and dash up the stairs into your room. You begin regretting not taking one of the rooms on the first floor. You figured you’d be able to hear if anything stormed in. Give you more time to escape. Your brothers had tried to convince you everything was alright, to take the larger room. You almost had another episode when they decided to split the room. You shouldn’t have been such a coward. Now, you realized, you had to walk past almost every room. And that simply, was not an option. You’d probably woken everyone up. Your face felt warm at the thought of anyone seeing you and Cato in the living room. You threw the window open and hoped the cool air would help you figure out how to breathe again. You debated figuring out how to climb down to the first floor before deciding to get through this as quickly as you could.

You change as quickly as you can and do your best to pretend your heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. The usually long hallway seemed to stretch even farther than normal. You walked and pretended you didn’t notice Cato and Enobaria in the kitchen. Pretended you didn’t hear their voices go silent as your footsteps approached. Pretended you didn’t see Cato and Enobaria stare as you walked by. Pretended as if their gazes didn’t burn through your facade as you hurried to get out of the house.

You had slept enough to know Katniss would be in the woods by now. You tracked her easily enough, and was glad to see Madge there as well. You didn’t want to talk about Cato’s plan you had decided to follow through on. You had debated it since you saw her and Gale, but really the less people knew the better. Than again, you told her about your act for Peeta…No. Even if she figured out it was an act, and she likely would, it was better you kept her out of the loop in case Snow decided to press for answers. More believable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Sorry? You haven’t slept in in more than a month at this point. I’d say she earned it, wouldn’t you Katniss?”

“She’s right.” Katniss grumbled, “How did you manage to finally sleep?”

Start planting the seeds, Y/n. “I decided to watch some cheesy capitol movies with…one of the victors. And I fell asleep on the couch.”

Katniss stared for a moment but shrugged. Neither of the girls pressed further. Thank God. You knew Katniss caught the pause in your response. She knew if you didn’t say anything it was because it was not meant to be shared with anyone else, even Gale. Damn. If you needed anyone to support your fake relationship it was Gale. He was popular enough at school people would agree with whatever he said, and you could only assume his character extended to the people he worked with in the mines. You knew this was easier said than done. Gale was no fan of showing any kind of performance for the Capitol, and he’d be less likely to support anything with a career. You had to convince Katniss what you were doing was real, or real enough so she could convince him to play nice for the cameras.

After collecting some strawberries with Madge while Katniss shot some wild turkeys it was time to head back. Checking any snares on the way back. A few rabbits to add to the pile. This would be a good haul for Katniss and Gale’s families. Madge split off first, paying Katniss for the strawberries, though she was met with some resistance.

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

“Its for being protection out there. I don’t plan on going out there by myself.” She pressed the money into her hands and walked off before Katniss could argue farther.

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

“Believe me you earned it.” Katniss’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the closest you usually get to a smile. “Going to trade the turkeys?”

She nodded and the two of you headed towards the hob. Stopping to drop the two rabbits off at Hazels, and one at her own home. You let her do her usual trading done, while you eat buy you both some food from Greasy Sae.

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

You smile at the older woman, “I did, he said it was some of the best food he’s ever tasted. He’ll be so upset I didn’t bring him.”

You wink at Sae and she chuckles before going back to her business, Katniss is analyzing your words. Unsure of what to make of everything, you’re sure. She doesn’t ask any other questions and you start to worry about whether she would say anything else. You both eat in silence, only thanking Greasy Sae when you both finish.

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

“Sure.” Thank god, you think. Katniss waits for the two of you to be completely alone in front of your house before she speaks.

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

“You brought a career into the hob? They aren’t welcome there.”

“It was just Cato. And they all seemed fine with him there. Relax.”

“Y/n. He’s still a career. People are going to talk.” That’s the point. They need to keep talking. Not only to sell the act you’re about to perform this next year but to start changing how they see the careers. Something besides from vicious killers and nothing more.

“Talk about what? Cato is a friend. I showed him somewhere he was curious about”

“Right. Which victor was with you when you decided to watch a movie?”

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

“Yeah we’re both responsible for 23 kids not being able to come back home.” You didn’t intend for the words to come out so harshly. You can tell Katniss recoils at the words, “Its not like hunting animals. Nothing like it at all. I still cant stop thinking about…everything. And its just easier to have someone who understands it. Have you and Gale ever talked about it?”

“…No.” And just like that, you know you’ve at least gotten your point across. “I never thought it would be the same.”

“I know. Gale did. And I get the thought process, but the aftermath… anyways. How is he doing with his new job?”

“Okay I guess. I don’t think it would be easy to go down there.”

“Yeah I couldn’t either.”

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

Her cheeks go red. “It would be fine.”

It would clearly not be fine. “Just this one Sunday? And then I don’t have to again right?”

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

You smile at her as she stands to go back home. You hesitate to enter your old home but you need to find out exactly what Mallory and Amal talked to them about. You force yourself to take a deep breath and knock on the door. The door flies open, almost taking out your mother as it swings back.

“Finally. You need to tell us exactly what’s going on.”

You told them nothing. The visit started out fine enough. Your brothers had been relatively quiet. Saying the victors had been called to teach you how to do interviews for the victory tour, which was true, and so that you would know what to expect from the capitol, also true. But your brothers had left too much out, your mother knew there was more you were hiding from her. She had no idea about the sponsors. You felt yourself relax. You assured her that was all they were here for. Your father sat staring daggers at you, probably sure you were lying and not as willing as your mother had been to accept your reassurances. Then everything became blurry. Your mother went from curious to irritated at not being able to get it together before they came here. Not showing a good image of a proper victor. She started yelling about falling asleep next to Cato when he had been sick. Started wondering about how I was suddenly fixed. Then the yelling became a little more noticeable when she got in front of your glazed over eyes. You blinked and heard your father complaining about you were conveniently choosing to not be present in important family matters. You glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall, and decided it had been a long enough day and stood up to leave.

You could hear the sounds coming from their mouths, but the noises didn’t register as anything in your brain. You walked numbly back home. Still not quite able to hear anything as you walked back in your house. You half recognized someone calling your name from the kitchen. You kept walking to your room, you saw Cato’s head turn back to look at you as you passed the living room. You continued walking. You were barely at the top of the steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Mallory is trying to say something to you, you think. Your thoughts, while still foggy, begin to react to your senses. You look at your hand for too long. You know you’re blinking too slowly, but your body does not seem to be in your control. The words ‘I’m fine,’ sound foreign coming out of your mouth. The only thing that feels natural is pulling your hand away and entering your room.

You don’t make it to your bed. You collapse a few feet in. At least your body seemed to know to at least make it the soft rug. You allow your body to sink into the floor, slowly, so slowly turning to the side. You bring your knees into your chest, and look straight ahead. Trying to find anything to ground you.

You left the window open…You took deep breaths by the window earlier…Did that work? It feels like ages ago…You force yourself back onto your hands and knees. Then focus on being able to kneel. One leg at a time…Why was this so much work?

You make it to the window eventually. The air offers some relief. You cant keeping blacking out like this. What if you zone out during the victory tour? The thought turns your stomach into knots, but its enough to somewhat snap you out of whatever fog had enveloped you this morning. When you open the door you find Cato sitting on the ground, maybe keeping watch. Guilt runs over you for worrying everyone. For not being able to hide it. He offers a half smile and you feign one back, pointing your head towards the direction of the stairs, silently asking him to follow you. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. The house feels empty… You open the door to your house and sit on the steps, you need to be outside. Realistically, you need to be out in the woods, but you cant…not yet.

“How bad was it?” You ask when he sits next to you

“Not great…” he admits, “Your brother looked pissed, he left right after you locked yourself in your room. Everyone else is with Haymitch.”

“They’re worried I’ll mess everything up during the tour.”

“Yeah.” You appreciated his honesty, it made it easier to not dance around the subject. He wouldn’t offer up most of his thoughts, but he didn’t hide them when asked. Made it easier to figure out how much you needed to work on.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. You were scared before your interviews when you started the games, right? When you’re going through it, it’ll be different.”

It has to be, you think. You know he’s right. You weren’t fighting right now. You were what? Surviving? No, more like running, or hiding. Avoiding the scary things. When you couldn’t run, couldn’t hide…would you be able to pull it off? You had to.

“What did I miss today?”

His face twists ever so slightly, “I don’t think today is a good day to talk about it.”

“I cant avoid this forever. I have less than five months.”

“Effie sent tapes, and…cards. They wanted to work on the speeches you’ll give on tour.” You stop breathing. Trying to find words to say. Trying to find any response other than the words that are threatening to come out once again, I cant. But you have to, another voice says. You force your lungs to take another breath, when you are back to as normal as you can get, he continues, “Theres a generic speech Effie has prepared for most of the tributes. But for…some of them you may want to make a separate speech.”

He means Rue and Thresh… and Peeta. You think about some of the other tributes, then realize the rest of Panem only saw you responsible for their deaths. Not the training center, or discussing possible alliances. That was your weight to carry, no one else’s.

“Y/n?”

“Lets go see Haymitch. I have some memorizing to do.” You can tell he wants to protest, maybe suggest waiting one more day. Still, he ends up nodding and when he stands offers to help you up. You take his hand for the split second it takes to stand up, and try not to think about how you wished he would hold it the entirety of the short walk over.

The house is silent when you walk in. You’re still surprised how thoroughly Brutus has gone through this place. They all tentatively meet you at the entryway. Haymitch looks you over for a couple seconds before putting his arm on your shoulder and nods his head, you nod your head a few times to tell him you’re fine. He pats your shoulder and you follow him into his own living area.

“So, I hear you guys have the speech I need to memorize.” You say when you sit down

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

“No. Time is running out, and we still have to worry about making the people here believe there is something happening between me and Cato. I don’t have anytime to waste. I need to be able to at least do this speech in my sleep.”

Haymitch again stares for a little and then hands you the cards. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But you know you’re going to have something prepared for District 11 and 12. That could wait. Effie spared no expense of praise for the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…ugh. Well, at least this would help convince Snow you wanted to play along with whatever he wanted you to do. To a point, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll go memorize this now. Anything else?”

“We need to get you two out more. Start building up the romance. So maybe we can go out as a group. A tour, maybe somewhere with music…start there.” Cashmere states

Music? In 12? It would have to be in the square, there’s simply not enough time to dance around like the Capitol parties. But maybe in the better part of 12, they sometimes had people bring out flutes, fiddles, stuff like that. No those are for holidays, and we wouldnt have another one of those for a few months. Then there was the hob. But techincally those get togethers are very much against the rules, not like most peacekeepers care too much around here. But that many victors could draw unwanted attention. You would have to find the right time, figure out how to ask without raising suspicion. If you or Haymitch asked, your ruse would go up in flames immediately. You think of Madge, she could know, but again, you cant ask her. Katniss though…she could figure out how to ask the question. Our brothers were out of the question, Amal was the worst liar, and Mallory was terrible at keeping anything from him. Though, like Katniss, he would probably figure it out too.

“Got it,” you say, “I’ll figure out how to get us out in the public eye here. I’ll be back soon.”

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

“We’ve already wasted a whole day. This is going to end badly for all of us.”

“I need to figure out how to set up times for us to get seen together, and I cant just go out and ask. It would be obvious. I need to figure out who to ask and how to do it without anyone knowing about our plans. My family cant know anymore. Mallory will figure it out on his own. Later. He needs to believe this as much as Snow does. I’ll be back.”

Whatever courage you had diminished the second you exited the house. The sun was beginning to set, and you needed to get your plan in motion. You walked as fast as you could without attracting any attention. Knocking entirely too loudly.

Katniss opened the door and immediately sits in front of the door closing it as quietly as she can to avoid her family listening in. You both whisper as quietly as you can regardless.

“You know if Peeta had made it out, I wouldn’t have to worry about visiting any sponsors.” Katniss squints her eyes analyzing every word, “I mean I could have played along with the whole romance act. The capitol would never split up a couple by asking favors of them.”

“Interesting.” She nods, fully taking in what you’re telling her.

“Anyway, I really want to take the victors to hear some music. I just don’t know who to ask…”

“Madge maybe. Or she would know how to find out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know her like that though.” She takes a deep breath. Hating what I was asking of her.

“Okay. Hey, I think I am going to her house tomorrow to try and learn piano. You’re probably busy, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear her play again too.” Katniss chuckles at your sarcasm

“I have to make sure Prim eats. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Sounds good.” You squeeze her hand in a thank you and she nods before heading back inside. Your stomach growls at the reminder that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You trudge back, still ashamed of your inability to handle the tiniest stressors. Your parents yelling wasn’t new, but you had never been unable to defend yourself. It was as if being in the games had made everything feel so much worse, more…intense. Made you weak. And you no longer had the energy to deal with it. Brutus was right. It wasn’t just my life anymore. Cato, Haymitch, and the others…they could all suffer because of me.

At some point your brothers ran up behind you. You must nave been moving slower than you thought.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

“Nope. Anything you guys in the mood for?”

“Anything works.” Mallory replies, Amal is quiet and you can only imagine the conversations they inserted themselves into at home. “We can make something this time.”

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

“Okay.” After a few moments of silence you start again, “I’m sorry if I freaked you guys out. “

“Its fine, It wasn’t as bad this time.” Amal says, Mallory nudges him probably trying to not worry you again. It goes over his head, “What?”

You chuckle, you wish the older of the two would be as honest as Amal. It helped you remember to not take things so seriously, “Good. I’ll try and get the time down to a few minutes.”

They both smile and they begin to talk about how much they have learned from the other victors. You are glad they are enjoying the company until Mallory mentions wanting to ask Brutus about tips. Just in case he gets reaped he says. You know its likely they get called, its happened before, family members from victors who had become capitol favorites. With all the commotion you caused. You realize its likely your brothers had a high chance of going in. The upcoming quell… your brother wasn’t an idiot. Its been theorized the Capitol has rigged certain reapings, Haymitch has no one left, but you? It may not be the worst idea. And you certainly couldn’t help him. You would worry too much, in fact the conversation turns your stomach to lead. Suddenly, food held no interest to you. Still, you have to be rational. Cato’s advice saved your life, if Mallory is put in this position… Brutus might save his.

“I think Brutus might appreciate the distraction, if he won’t Cashmere will.” You keep your voice even, but your heart feels like its shattering at the thought of having to become a mentor. Playing along with the sponsors may not be such a bad idea. If it keeps Mallory out of the games. That’s what they said Finnick does, right? You would have to talk to Cato again. You knew if you told either sibling they would tell you to not go back on the original plan. Which is probably why he’s is preparing to go in. So many people willing to put themselves in harms way when you could just play along. You’re from 12, after all maybe in a few years time they would all but forget you.

When you enter your home you’re almost overwhelmed by the smells coming from the kitchen. Amal and Mallory run in ready to help. Enobaria greets them, and they continue talking. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other. You smile to greet Enobaria and Cashmere, but when you meet Cato’s eyes you know he can tell somethings up. He points his head toward the living room and you nod and sneak away. He meets you on the couch, bringing some water and a plate of fruit.

“What happened?” He asks immediately. He sits next to you, which was better because you didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Mallory. I’m so stupid, Cato. If we do this…he’s going to get reaped. I know it. I was right before, I volunteered for nothing. If I had just eaten the stupid berries before Peeta could say anything. They’d be safe. I’ve ruined everything… I—”

Cato brings you into him and you decide you don’t care if its for pity or what. You allow him to comfort you. No tears come just a general sense of hopelessness.

“We’ll figure it out,” he breaks okay and fand positions himself to look at you, “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

You nod. He tries to hand you the glass of water but your hands are shaking. He holds one hand to help you drink and when you finish puts the plate on your lap. You notice he gives you some space, and you find yourself hating it. You manage to force a few pieces of fruit down when the rest of the house comes in.

“There you two are!” Cashmere floats down and hands you another plate, you smile and try and eat as much as you can stomach. Enobaria asks about the upcoming school year, who the younger ones talk to, their favorite things to do. They both answer, and ask their own questions in return. I’m grateful for the distraction and by the end of the night you find yourself smiling, you find out Amal has been picking things up from Prim. Wants to figure out how to be a doctor, Mallory isn’t exactly sure as he thinks he will just work in the mine. Cashmere pushes and he tells them about drawing when he is bored but nothing else really coming to mind. Both of the female victors encourage them, saying that with your help anything is possible now. You encourage them too after a while, you've realized most people accept what they were born into in 12. The bright side of being a victor is you could give them a chance. A real chance. If you don’t get them killed first.

Cato helps Cashmere collect everything. You know he is likely telling her exactly what is concerning you. You hate going back and forth on this. Making things even harder. Everyone eventually disperses, you try to relax with a bath but you decide its not working and just clean up quickly. After pacing around for a bit you decide to go back down. You sit on the living room and turn on the tv, hoping something will put you to sleep.

Why isn’t it working? You’re staring at the screen for over an hour when you hear footsteps coming down. You don’t move, you know who is coming to join you.

“Cant sleep?”

“Nope.” You smile up at him, “Care to join me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I enjoy the company.” You wonder if you’ve been so closed off for him to still think you dislike him. Maybe he actually wants you to leave. He always seems surprised when you seem to want his company at all. Then again, you’ve been going back and forth on the plan you agreed with since the beginning, why wouldn’t he think you don’t want him around.

“What are you watching?” He asks as he sits on the seat adjacent to yours, you try not to let your face show your disappointment

“A movie from the capitol, the acting is pretty bad so its no wonder they believe whatever the tributes sell to them. Its almost done I think, do you want to pick something?” He shakes his head and you flip through until you find another movie you don’t care to watch. You tell yourself its background noise, and after a while your eye lids get heavy.

Images of the cornucopia appear, drops of water dripping onto the makeshift cave you hid in with Peeta, the snares you’d so carefully hidden in the underbrush, the buzz of the tracker jacker nests, Glimmer’s…screams…? Suddenly you’re running, you think you hear her scream for help when the swarm of tracker jackers descend upon you. You’re on the floor and Glimmer’s disfigured body is facing you, her eyes glazed over yet full of hate and blame. Her lips release a raspy voice not belonging to anyone in particular, no it wasn’t her voice… it was multiple voices. They all hiss together in a bone chilling, raspy harmony…

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

Your body shoots up and you’re unsure if that last scream was another part of your dream or your own voice. You violently pat your body to check for the stings of the of tracker jackers. Only when you’re sure nothing has happened do you allow yourself to check your surroundings of the room. There is still a dull murmur coming from the tv and you curse yourself for thinking it would be an easy solution to aide in your sleep. Whatever happened last night…it didn’t matter. It was a mistake. The clock is ticking…only a little past one in the morning. You look over at Cato’s chair, he isn’t faring much better. He had tried to get comfortable but his position was anything but. He is mumbling something under his breath, his eyes are squeezed tight and his hands appear to be clutching the hair by his ears, effectively covering them. If it didn’t look like he was about to crush his own skull you might have left him alone. That would be what he would tell you to do, to leave him. Well. You’ve never been the best at following directions.

You put your hand on his. The one closest to you. His body freezes, you wait a few seconds to allow him to figure out where he is and, as delicately as you can, you pull one of his hands away from his. You focus on his breathing, short and shallow. You pat the hand you’re holding when you bring a good enough distance away from his face and go into the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When you come back he still seems somewhat disoriented, aside from his hands he hasn’t moved. You push the water into his hand until he takes it. He blinks slowly, and takes a few sips. You carefully take the cup back and place it on the table, not moving from your spot on the ground.

“Did I wake you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and you quickly shake your head

“I woke up from a dream of my own actually.” He nods and slumps to the floor next to you, you notice he begins fidgeting with the small beaded bracelet you had gotten him, and wonder if whatever he was dreaming about continues to haunt him. You can only hope he says anything to drown out that disturbing cadence of whispers echoing in your mind.

“Do you want me to keep watch again? I don’t think I want to sleep right now.” He asks quietly

And I do? The thought makes you smile but you just shake your head at his proposal, “I don’t think I can either. How bad is our schedule tomorrow?”

“They probably have more debriefing, the interview tapes have come in.”

“Great.” You scoff, “I guess we have no choice but to try and sleep again.”

Glimmers disfigured face pops back into your head and you shudder, not in any way excited to see who you’ll see when you close your eyes. Cato stands and turns the tv back on. He offers a sad smile and holds his hand out. You take it knowing full well what his plan is. The tv goes back on and you sit next to each other this time, both trying to focus to blur any remaining memories of your nightmares. The next time you succumb to your fatigue the nightmares stay away. And just like that you both silently agree to continue the process. Both finding excuses from then on to come downstairs and turn the stupid tv on. One of you always waking up before the other and sneaking back into your room to get ready before the rest of the house woke up. By Sunday, you felt rested but your neck really hurt. Katniss’s knock woke you up that day.

“Just wondering if you were still coming.” Gale stood a good distance behind her but nodded in your direction which you returned.

“I have to get ready but yeah one second.” When you close the door Cato is already awake, leaning against the wall.

“You think you’re ready?” It was an innocent question that you only wish you knew the answer to. You had met up with Katniss a few more times this week, but today felt ominous. You suddenly felt like everyone else who avoided the woods. Terrified, like you would have to keep watch for the safety of the fence line.

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure?” He gave a singular nod and told you he was going to go get ready. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before rushing to do the same. You debated starting the whole romance thing now but you decide its better to not overfill your plate. You are a bit surprised Gale and Katniss say nothing when Cato comes out with you. You wonder if Katniss has caught on and whether she’s said anything to her favorite hunting partner.

The walk to the meadow is mostly silent until you offer food for everyone to eat before heading in. But that’s silent too. Everyone’s guards are up. Everyone worried about mine and Cato’s reactions. Including myself and Cato.

Gale seems to liven up in the forest, his footstep soundlessly picking up the pace. You all follow closely behind.

“Alright Y/n, easy pickings.” He points towards some wild turkey.

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve got this.” He hands you one of the bow and arrows made by Katniss’s father. You look to her for permission before even placing your hand on it. But the second you touch the weapon your hands start shaking.

“Y/n, if you’re not ready…” Cato starts but Gale interrupts suddenly agitated

“She’ll be fine. The woods are all she knows, right? She cant be scared of the one good thing about this place.” Cato doesn’t respond, you squeeze his arm and he nods. You barely have the strength to draw the arrow back and your muscles are screaming. You’re weaker than you anticipated. You take a deep breath and aim in the general direction of the bird, but the second you release the arrow the only thing you see is Marvel.

The Marvel you see staggers back, blood pouring from his mouth. You hear yourself scream and step back almost falling into a tree. Cato’s hands grab each of your arms, “NO! Please…”

“Its not real. You’re not in the games. You’re safe…” He says in your ear but his voice is shaky. You have to blink a few times before you nod. You hand the bow back to Gale.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine. You can try again, it will get better.” He holds out the bow but you step back

“Gale..” Katniss warns him, Cato pushes me behind him as he turns to look at her

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

“You don’t get it. She belongs out here. You don’t. She needs to be able to come out here, even if she doesn’t hunt anymore. The games aren’t going to ruin that for her.”

They’ve already ruined it, you think. “Its going to take time. She has to see everyone again in a few months. She can decide when she’s ready.”

Gale steps forward, “Y/n, come on. We’re going to keep moving.”

“Back. off.” Cato growls but Gale keeps moving forward and you react before he figures out whats happening. Gale had pointed the bow in Cato’s direction, and its like something takes over him immediately. His entire body shifts into a position you remember in the training center. From Arioch…

“Or what?” He starts

His name comes out as a warning, to no one but yourself, “Cato…”

Time seems to slow down, this time, its you who has to let Cato know hes safe. You rush to get in front of him, grabbing for his hand reaching for the knife hidden away. A stupid decision on your part because you come from the bottom up so you feel the sting before fully realizing the blood dripping down your arm as fail to stop his arm from pulling it out from across his body. This is what he knows. You stare him down with one hand useless, and the other on his arm with the knife. You think you hear one of them pull the arrow back. Idiots. This can only make things worse. His other hand grabs the one holding onto his arm, preventing him from either throwing or hunting them down. The other arm has seeped through your shirt and is bleeding onto the ground ever so slowly, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip

“Put the weapons down!” You yell at everyone. Scaring off any prey they were hoping of catching. Cato looks furious but he blinks at you as if he is trying to figure out what part of his games you’re form.

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

“Now!” You can hear the footstep receding. You’re sure they wont be going far so you have to make this quick. His grip on your arm tightens and you struggle not to cry out. But you had to make sure he thinks of little of his games as possible. Right?

Drip…

“You said we were allies. We aren’t done here.” More blinking. When this is over you’ll have to remember to thank him for giving you the answer to this very problem. You avoid saying anything about the actual games. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to slow his fast and heavy breathing. The hand with the knife going up his head, pressing against it. He forcefully lets go, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you fall onto the ground. Both arms have gone up to his head, trying to silence voices you will never hear. You stay on the ground so as to not disturb him, hoping he comes back to you on his own. Whatever he tries to block out elicits a small groan of his own as he falls on his knees. His hands never leaving the sides of his head as he continues to try and quiet the nightmares I forced him to see by coming out here. You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffens. His head slowly looks up at yours.

“You’re okay.” You whisper, as if speaking loudly would ruin any progress, “Everything's okay.”

His head scans the area and when he looks back you his eyes widen again, his breathing quickening. “Oh my god.”

You don’t have to follow his eyes to know what hes looking at, “I’m fine. It was my fault.”

His hands turn your forearm to face him, really the scratch wasn’t very deep. Long maybe, but really it would heal quickly. The bleeding had mostly stopped anyway. He lifts the t-shirt sleeve up to where your cut is completely exposed. Cinna probably had some kind of scar cream, you weren’t worried about it. Cato shakily grabs the bag you had set down when you had tried to shoot the arrow, fumbling until he finds what hes looking for. A small red box. You realize it’s a first aid kit, he grabs the water bottle you’d brought as well and begins pouring water on your wound. Your arm twitches when the water first contacts you and Cato winces.

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

“Its not.” He says sternly. He places a type of pad on your arm and begins bandaging. You only try to speak when he’s almost finished

“Cato. This wasn’t your fault. I grabbed the knife wrong. This is on me.”

“Y/n. Stop.”

“No. You cant even look at me. This is not your faul—”

“I shouldn’t have come out here. I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I wasn—”

“You were right. This is a mistake.” He begins to stand up again

“Cato, wait—” You scramble to catch up to him, but before your arm even reaches out he snaps at you

“No Y/n. This should have never happened. I could have killed you! We will stick to public appearances, the rest of the time you need to stay away from me.”

For some reason this infuriates you. “What are you talking about? No. You said we would do this together. You cant back out now.”

He turns around just as furious, “You’ve been backing out almost every day! Why does it matter if I do it??”

A valid point. You weren’t sure why you were fighting so hard for him to not back out but it suddenly sounded unacceptable. Especially not out of guilt, “Beca—”

“I told you I was dangerous! I told you to use the sedative if you needed to. How could you not bring it??? Do you not understand how easily I could have killed you? Do you know what that would have don—Do you think I could live with myself?” He takes a deep breath, trying to lower his voice. It was the loudest you had ever heard him, certainly. Guilt gnawing at you for not realizing how all of this could have undone any progress, how he could have been punished.. all because you couldn’t shoot a damn arrow. Anger also fights for the dominant spot in your mind, you were the one who just de-escalated everything. Your silence seems to soften him and you know it's only because he's once again, sure he's terrified you.

“Look. Just—Make sure you start bringing the sedative. I’m serious. For your own sake—”

He lets out an exasperated sigh of disbelief as you hold your palm out. The sedative pen still capped facing him.

Cato’s POV

She had it this entire time? Why didn’t she use it? Did she forget? How could she forget? You stood there staring as she held her hand out. Unsure of what to do , what to say. You had just screamed at the person who stopped you from hurting anyone. Who had hurt herself in order to give you the chance to stop. Who had somehow managed to distract you enough to realize you were slipping back into your games. You couldn’t face her as you bandaged her arm, and now you felt like you couldn’t stop staring, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t immediately use that on you.

It was her turn to be angry, but instead of saying anything she grabbed your hand and forced the pen into it before heading back home.

You could only stand there for a minute before you chased after her. You caught up relatively soon, “Y/n?”

When she says nothing. You decide to keep your mouth shut. The walk back is tense she lets the door almost close on you and you aren’t surprised to hear the door slam. You’re thankful no one seems to be home. You know her brothers are at her parents, and Enobaria and Cashmere said they wanted to talk to Haymitch about the public appearances they want to start up. You decide to go over there just to let them know you’re both back.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Could’ve gone better.” Is all you say as you walk back out. The rest of your day is you hiding in your room. You go out to make yourself a quick lunch. You’re pretty sure Y/n hasn’t come down so you leave a plate of food at her door and knock before running back down to your room. You pace, read, lay down, repeat. You only come out when Enobaria calls you down to eat again. You ask if Y/n has said anything to her but Enobaria says she was worn out from trying all of that today. You wonder if the cut on her arm came up.

“Cato. Is everything okay?” She crosses her arms as she watches you eat. You take one more bite and toss your fork down. You needed today to be over. You can overthink by yourself.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You grab your plate and toss everything in the trash. Something people here probably wouldn’t be very fond of but its beyond you to care right now. You can feel Enobaria looking at you but she doesn’t follow. You go into your room and turn the lights off so hopefully, everyone assumes you’re asleep and leaves you alone. You cant sleep. In fact, you know you wont be able to sleep since the only decent sleep you’ve gotten in over a year has been with y/n when you pretend to watch the tv. Really, its probably your brain telling you that you two are watching each other’s backs, but it doesn’t matter. You doubt you could trust anyone else like that.

You replay today’s events for the millionth time. She must have been terrified. And then on top of everything you go and yell at her. She could have yelled back but the only time she even sounded slightly annoyed was when you said doing the whole romance thing may not be a good idea. Isn’t that what she wanted? Was it the way I said it? You hold the pillow over your head for a few minutes before throwing it to the floor out in annoyance. Just fall asleep. Fall asleep. You tell yourself you deserve any nightmares that come to you but sleep refuses to make an appearance. Probably because you were ridden with guilt and disgust. You decided to go apologize. You went down the hall where Y/n’s room was hidden away, you hear Cashmere and Enobaria talking in the distant kitchen. As you raise your arm to knock, the door swings open.

The two of you are stand once again, motionless. With nothing in her hands, you wonder if she had an idea similar to yours. You open your mouth to start apologizing but she shakes her head and steps out of your way. Allowing for you to enter her room. You tell yourself you’ll apologize properly and then leave her alone. She probably just wants to keep todays events hidden, better to curb any more fears about this plan’s already fragile state. When she quietly closes the door behind you try to speak before she once again cuts off your apology by wrapping her arms around you. You freeze, waiting for your living nightmares to resurface but when they don’t come, you return the embrace. A warmth radiating deep in the cold recesses of your heart.

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

You immediately step back, “No. That’s what I should be saying. I was the one who wanted to go, I was the one who hurt you, I was the one that yelled. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I knew I wasn’t ready.” You bring her towards you again and try not to notice the smell of her hair, still somewhat damp from a fresh bath.

“Can I check?” She sighs but holds her arm out. You feel relief upon realizing how shallow the cut was. You quickly leave her room for more supplies and sneak back as quietly as possible. You both sit on her bed and you begin. You work carefully. Quietly. She says nothing until you put the healing ointment over the scratch.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.” She tries to joke but you’re struggling to understand why had to put herself in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

“You know when I blew up all of the supplies in the cornucopia and everyone ran back…Arioch was so mad he snapped the boy from three’s neck. It was less than a second and Elias was dead. On the ground. You could have done the same the second I grabbed the knife. You stopped yourself. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I could have still killed you, before all of that.”

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

“Honestly if you really thought you were in the games and you thought the three of us were working together you would have either gone for the person most dangerous to you, which wasn’t me and would have given me time to use it. Or you would have used me as a bargaining tool, and I still would have been able to use it. So, drop it.” Her voice gets short and you decide to listen, trying to not get into your head again. She sighs and lowers her tone, still grumbling at the thought of it.

“I shouldn’t have hid behind you and I should have told Gale off myself. I would have had a better chance at either grabbing the knife or deescalating the situation.”

You cant help yourself. The thought of her putting the blame on herself is ludicrous and you cant accept it, “I shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“I wanted you to come. I would have asked you to anyway.” She says it so softly you aren’t sure you heard her right. You don’t say anything more as you finish rebandaging her. “I’m tired.”

You tell yourself you promised you would leave her alone so you just nod and say “Okay.”

You shift to stand up and leave but she grabs your wrist, “Can you stay?”

“Okay.” You find yourself unable to say anything else at the moment. You down move from your seat on her bed as she lays down. Your throat suddenly feels very dry. You feel as if you’re breaking some kind of rule from the agreement you both had made, which is ridiculous since you had been accidentally sleeping together when you would watch tv. It was just easier to fall asleep that way. You try going over possible interview questions in your head but absentmindedly fidget with the bracelet which gets her attention. She leans over enough to place her hand on your back causing you to jump.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you plan on keeping your knife under the pillows?” You shake your head and she smiles, “Then yeah, as long as your comfortable with it.”

She scoots over and you lay next to her. Neither of you fall asleep right away and you try and see if she wants to talk about what happened before she stepped in front of you. “Can I ask you something?”

She turns to her side to face you, you try and resist the urge to get closer and just turn your head to her direction staying on your back. “What is it?”

“What did you see?”

She goes unnaturally still, you want to tell her to forget about it but she decides to answer, “Marvel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She turns onto her back and looks up as she recounts her time in the games, “You saw the games. I missed.”

“I thought you hit him.”

“I did. But I waited too long and I ended hitting a lung…I was so mad. I was going to watch him suffer for the net. For throwing his spear. He told me to finish. To kill him. When I pulled the knife out I held onto his hand as I plunged my knife into him. I felt his hand go limp in mine. I see his death all the time. Then I run away. In every dream I run, and it doesn’t matter what direction I run I always end up seeing Rue. Struggling to breathe. I didn’t even know she was hit right away.”

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I hadn’t hesitated I would have. She would have won. I would have made sure of it.” You don’t like what she’s implying but you say nothing, knowing theres more to be said, “Almost everyone else’s death I see like I was watching the games from home. But Marvel and Rue…and Glimmer sometimes. They don’t ever go away. It also sucks because I saw Thresh die the same way everyone else did and I feel bad he doesn't bother me as much.”

She doesn’t turn to face you but you can see tears beginning to form so you reach out and grab her hand. She returns the gesture, intertwining her hand in yours. She finally turns to look at you, but she is too tired to even try and pretend its okay. It isn’t. And it doesn’t get better. But its only fair you tell her your side of things too.

“I see everyone. Whether I killed them or not. I see myself killing them, not being able to stop. Then I hear them. Their families. Calling me a monster. I try to say I cant stop but I can never speak.”

She squeezes your hand. You have others, sometimes its all of the training methods you had in 2. Others are when you are begging to call your family so you can go home, then the voices from the games merge into those too. You turn to face her and she lets go of your hand to turn. She begins to get close. Too close. Shes above you, resting on her elbow you feel her other hand reach up. A finger traces your brow, her thumb gently wiping a tear you weren’t aware had spilled.

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

You cant help yourself. You don’t let her let go of your face. You don’t want to let her go at all. So you don’t. With your free arm you bring her as close as you can and hold her. Tired of pretending you weren’t constantly craving her presence. Her touch. You only let go of her hand to put your own in her hair as you pulled her into you. She doesn’t protest. She continues to lean in eventually letting her lips rest on yours ever so gently. Her lips were soft and warm. You could feel them slightly part as she let out a slight gasp. It was as easy as breathing. When you both pull away, you feel like its too soon. You know that you are only entangling yourself into a potentially dangerous situation with the capitol. You had something to lose now. As she stared at you with the same realization you realized you didn’t care. You had something to lose, yes, but you also finally had something to lose. You didn’t want her to worry, you just brought her into you again. Letting her head rest on your chest. Knowing sleep would come easily. You run your hand up and her back and you feel her thumb going back and forth on your chest. Her hand stops moving first, you aren’t sure when your eyes close. All you know is for the first time you feel at peace, nothing gnawing at the back of your mind. No dreading about waking up and doing it all over again.

When you do wake up its anything but peaceful. You both hear the urgent knocking and sit up immediately. You both share a look and you move to the other end of the bed. Pretending you were simply keeping watch.

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

“What is he doing here? What are you doing here?? What happened to your arm?” Enobaria sounded confused. Furious.

“I still couldn’t sleep. So, I asked him to keep watch and alternate with me. But I fell asleep on my turn.” Y/n, you’ve noticed is only exceptional at lying when it involves someone else. “Sorry. I thought I was getting better?”

“And your arm?” Unfortunately for the two of you, Enobaria was not in way easy to convince. She crossed her arms as asked about Y/n’s injury.

“I got it when we went hunting yesterday. I freaked out and I was fumbling to grab my knife to protect myself. Cato bandaged me up and came to make sure it was healing okay last night. I asked him to stay. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I said I was tired and hid in here all day.”

“And why didn’t you mention this accident?” She starts asking you

You shrugged and tried to seem indifferent, “She asked me not to.”

“Y/n you need to at least get one more person to change shifts, its—” you see that shes struggling to find the words, but theres no real way around it, “its not safe. The flashbacks they don’t always show up in the most convenient times.”

Your head drops, and you can feel Y/n stare. You want to disagree with her but Enobaria is right. One nightmare and you could wake up in a place where Y/n isn’t Y/n at all. Just another person you cant unsee in the games.

“I trust him.”

She says it so easily, you want to believe her. Believe that you would never do anything to her. But you already had. “Y/n its better to be safe than sorry.”

“I trust him. Which is a good thing because at the end of this whole thing we’re going to have to end up together right? So does it matter if we help eachother out?”

Enobaria sighed, “Come on, we have a busy day.”

She leaves the room quickly. No doubt going to talk to Cashmere. You lift your head to look at Y/n, “Don’t.” She says

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

You take out the syringe and hold it out. “Please. Just to be safe. For me.”

The last line makes her flinch. She lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches the pen out of your hand. “I’m not going to use it.”

She leaves her room before you have a chance to respond. The words, ‘I know,’ stuck on your lips. You follow behind her and meet up in the kitchen with Enobaria and Cashmere. Enobaria still looks upset but Cashmere has a knowing grin on her face you desperately want to ignore. She slides you and Y/n a plate of food.

“Well before we do anything today, Y/n I suggest you go see your cousin. She came by to check on you already. I’m assuming since yesterday didn’t go so great?” Enobaria states

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cato? You’re practicing interview questions with Brutus.”

“Why him?” You immediately protest

“Because he is going to pinpoint everything you need to work on and this needs to go perfectly.” There was no point in arguing with either of them. Especially when Enobaria was already on the verge on sending you over to Haymitch’s house.

“What about you guys?”

“Oh Haymitch is going to show us around a bit more.” Cashmere says, you and Y/n share a look. They’re planning something and you two are not to know about it. You both eat in silence until Y/n finishes and is promptly shooed out of the house. You mainly push the food around your plate. Avoiding the stares that felt like were burning holes into your body.

“Its good you two are comfortable with each other. It’s going to make things easier.” Cashmere starts

“Its also going to make things more difficult.” Enobaria grumbled, “This whole charade still might not work. You need to be careful. You both just got out of the games. You still technically need to be supervised.”

“The more believable the more the capitol will want them to get married and pick a district. Regardless of what they feel, they need to make the Capitol obsessed with them in a matter of two weeks for the victory tour. We can worry about the rest later.”

You stood up, not able to take anymore second guesses. You were already doing that yourself. “We just took shifts keeping watch. That’s it.”

You knew they were right but the thought of showing affection toward y/n like that when you still weren’t sure what you felt made you feel…gross. Like you would be forcing her to do things she wasn’t sure of, or didn’t want. This, of course, only worries you about last night. About whether she meant to kiss you, whether you did. Whether she wanted to, or did so out of pity.

You evaluate every action, dissect every movement until Brutus comes in. Working with him is almost unbearable and nearly impossible to get into camera mode. He refuses to make it easy. He starts by quizzing you on everything you and her wrote down, any hesitation would result in breaking character and yelling. You maintain at best a casual conversation, which gave you hope on how things would go with Caesar if it came to that. And you needed it to come to that.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

Brutus rolls his eyes and grunts in what you assume is disgust, but he continues with the questions. Y/n comes back with her brothers behind her and interrupts, “Its my turn, Cato.”

“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He dismisses her but Y/n doesn’t budge

“They asked you to question him because you would be the harshest judge. Its my turn.” She turns to you and asks if you can talk to her brothers, and simply nod and follow them into the kitchen. You hear her tell him he needs to really try so neither of them waste eachother’s time and you’re tempted to hang back and hear how it all plays out.

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Hm?” Mallory’s voice snaps you back and you wonder exactly how much shes told them. You only remember her demand to keep them out of it. “In the woods?”

“Yeah. How bad?”

“Not…great. She was doing okay until she tried to shoot an arrow. Then she remembered her games and was thrown off.”

“So, she did hurt herself trying to get the knife?”

“Yeah she thought she needed to grab it quickly and ended up fumbling it before she actually got a good grip on it.”

“Probably good you were there. She trusts you.” Amal pipes in. Guilt hits you like a train again. Mallory just nods but you’re sure he has more questions about what is happening around here. Around their sister. How were you all supposed to help her? How could he help her? Questions you can never answer. You ask more about the hob. Wondering if you could go there alone. Mallory doesn’t recommend it, most people in twelve even stray from trading there. Y/n comes in silently, sitting next to Amal. It was another obvious clue as to exactly how long she had survived in the woods. Her tread was soundless. Had she decided to simply outlive the others in the arena, you’re sure she could have done so.

“How did the interviews go?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t get much feedback. I’ll ask Enobaria later.”

Everyone decides to cook some food up for the two houses. Its seems like a simple breakfast food dish, but the smell that it creates makes you almost salivate. The others fill in as you all finish up. Mallory even has alcohol ready for Haymitch. He actually makes friendly conversation. They have fully accepted each other as family in one sense or another. You stop paying attention when you begin to eat. The voices all intermingle and you drown most of it out. Or you try to. Usually so many people around ends up making you nervous.

Brutus elbows you, forcing you to refocus. You only return his glare but listen to Cashmere as she calls out your name again, “You okay, Cato?”

“Sorry.” You mumble. “What did you say again?”

“Well, I’ve been tired of being cooped up here so I thought it might be nice to go out. I hear the music is completely different here. I was thinking Friday maybe? It would be nice for all of us to go. What do you think?”

Sounds miserable, but you know she’s beginning your public appearances. “Sure. Would be nice to get out of the house, see a different side to 12.”

Y/n smirks, “Tsk. Well, it wont be all that fancy but it is a fun time.”

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

“A few times. I did have some friends outside of my cousin.”

“Yeah, she used to sneak out to go dancing.” Mallory teases

She rolls her eyes, “I only went out a few times. Enjoying the little times I saw anyone that wasn’t strictly business. Besides, all of my old school mates treat me like I have the plague now. It could be good to try and show I havent changed all that much.”

Except she had, no one contradicts her but even she knows it. It was ridiculous of course, to think she only contained herself to the woods. She wasn’t forced to train for the games. But the thought of her missing her old life springs to your mind again. You listen to her stories. The music that is supposed to be banned plays on random days. No one trusts anyone with association with the capitol here, you wonder how she ended up getting the information. You think of your time at the hob. How everyone seemed to know one another. You wondered if she forced herself to buy things there just to gain their trust back. You thought about Darius and how he had kissed her, and you actively have to work to keep the scowl off of your face. You wondered if some of peacekeepers took shifts so as to not get anyone in any real trouble.

The rest of the day is a blur. Plans, conversations, nothing seems to stick out in your mind. You’re relieved when everyone disperses. And even more so when Y/n whispers for you to go to her whenever you can. You wait until you’re sure everyone has at least gone to their rooms before going to find her. You barely knock, terrified of being ordered to go sleep elsewhere.

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You seem upset.”

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

“Mostly. This just…it doesn’t end you know? We’ll have to keep this up forever.”

“I know. Whatever happens we will need to prove to the Capitol we’re together. Could you do that? For that long?”

“Could you?”

“Yes.” You realize you were terrified of any other answer. You decide this cannot keep happening, the same conversation, the same worries making you doubt your plan. You can worry another day. You lay down next to her, ask her to get closer. You decide you wont try anything again. Not until you’re in front of the cameras. Just in case. But keeping eachother company you would allow. If only for your own sanity.

The days go on and Friday is upon you quickly. Y/n’s brothers go on ahead, making sure the music wouldn’t stop because of you and the rest of the victors presence. The group watches as the people dance around you. A few peacekeepers get visibly nervous but slowly let loose as well. Y/n makes small talk with some people around her, offering whatever money she has on her to several of the people who work at the hob. Some stands are still open and you find yourself buying a bracelet similar to yours. You rejoin the group for awhile, Y/n dances with her brothers once, and once with Darius. You try not to let that one bother you, especially since he asks several people to dance with him. She gets all of you to try the faster paced dance movements, Cashmere does exceptionally well. You... do not. You all sit and enjoy other people dancing when Cashmere nods to you. Now or never, you brace yourself as you lean over to whisper in Y/n’s ear.

‘I think its time.’ She smiles and nods and the two of you walk to the farther end of where people are sitting. Close enough plenty of eyes would be on you and far away enough it looks like you both want to speak privately. You take a deep breath, there's no going back now.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

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

#hunger games fic #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cato hunger games #hunger games cato #cato imagine #cato x reader

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cherryslyce · 1 year

Text

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.”

#the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games x reader #clove kentwell #clove kentwell x reader #clove kentwell imagine #cato hadley #the hunger games marvel #the hunger games glimmer #district 4 #district 12 #district 2 #district 1

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alavestineneas · 4 months

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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.

#imagine #hunger games #character x you #cato hunger games #cato hadley #cato x reader #cato hadley x reader #cato hadley fanfiction #the hunger games #district two #childhood friends to lovers #au #love this pookie so much #careers #thg cato

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catoscloves · 5 months

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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

#the hunger games #katniss everdeen #foxface #imagine deadass calling someone that the entire time you're in a murder competition #w marvel who literally murdered a twelve year old kat was like 'aww he probably had a family back home waiting for him to return. maybe a g #w the careers she is all 'i am snow's slave that's why i killed cato' etc etc #but no random redhead girl gets to be 'foxface'#qkrjflrlfk i love her #no wonder peeta carried the entire socialising part of the thing on his back #the morphings #DEADASS ARE JUST. NAMES AFTER THEIR SUBSTANCE ABUSE/ADDICTION #imagine if she called haymitch 'white liquor dude'#cato

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paniniprince · 4 months

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learning how to drive in garlemald sure must be an experience, huh

#ffxiv art #ffxiv #garlean #garlean oc #cato cen iulia #emilius cen iulia #like teaching a teen how to drive is already a fucking nightmare #now imagine you have three roaders on your ass. snapping their teeth at you. theres 5 inches of snow. its hailing.#youre not a praying man. but if someones out there. you hope they can bring you and your dipshit son back home safe.#alternate caption: when you werent expecting your son to live to 16 but he did and now you have to teach him how to drive like you promised #shouldn't have bought him a car!!!! DUMBASS!!!!!

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catominor · 3 months

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wait that line in mart.epi.9.27 also brings to light the intriguing possibility of a cato themed blowjob. much to think about

#a cato themed blowjobwpuld involve a lot of biting and chewing id imagine.

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swanimagines · 6 months

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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.

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xetswan · 3 days

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The Hunger Games- Protector; Chapter Two, The Capitol

(Peeta Mellark X Reader)

[One] [Two] [Three]

"You have three minutes." A voice calls and I hear the door open. It's my family. Prim and Katniss pull me into a rough embrace, both crying.

"Hey, shh, shh, it's okay. We don't have much time, listen." I pull away from them, Prim's arms still wrapped around my waist as I put one hand on the side of her face. I also pet Katniss's hair.

"You're gonna be okay, Prim. I promise. Don't take any extra food from them. It's not worth putting your name in." I tell her, kissing her multiple times on the forehead.

"Kat, I'll be okay, don't lose yourself, use Gale as a walking stick. He'll be right there with you." I pull her in for one last hug.

"Just try to win. Maybe you can." Prim says in a broken tone. My breathing halts for a moment but I continue on. "Maybe I can." I smile at her. "You can hunt." She reminds me. "Exactly." Katniss chimes in.

Prim then pulls out the golden pin that Kat had given her moments before the Reaping. I stare at it. "To protect you." She mutters. "Thank you." I frown, kissing her cheek. I then moved to my Aunt Clare, my dad and Zayden.

My dad puts Zayden in my arms and then he hugs the both of us. I try not to sob as he squeezes onto me. "I'll be okay, dad. I'll win. I'll be back." I promise him the unpromisable.

"I know, I know you will." I felt wet tears land on the top of my head and it only makes me feel worse but I don't want them to hurt even more seeing me cry. He let me go and I gave Zayden back to my father, he didn't talk, he was very quiet.

I knew he didn't understand and the boy doesn't talk much in general.

Clare gives me a small embrace. She begins to cry, I rub her back soothingly. "Don't cry." I whisper.

"It's time." The same Peacekeeper comes back into the room. Dragging mainly Prim out. "It's alright, Prim." I wanted to comfort her but her big sister was right there with her and I knew she would be alright without me. If I win or lose.

I glanced out the window, wanting to break down but I still couldn't let myself. Not yet anyway. I hear the door slam shut and I turn around. It's Gale, he swoops me up into a hug, lifting my heels off the ground before we pull away from one another. "I'm fine." I told him.

"Yeah, I know." He nods his head.

"Listen to me. You're stronger than they are. Get a bow-" "I'm not that good with a bow yet, Gale." I argue with him but he stops me.

"You were getting amazing, trust me. If not a bow, get yourself a spear or something. You're good with close battles but you're gonna need distance most of the time." He assured me, I wanted to argue but the timing wasn't the best. "You know how to hunt."

"Animals." I remind him.

"It's no difference, [Name]." I shake my head. "I don't know if I can do it. 23 other people. Only one is the victor. Those odds..." I sigh, thinking about my chance against District 1 and 2. The ones who are practically trained to do it. Volunteer to do it.

"And it's gonna be you. Do it for Katniss, your dad, Prim, Zayden, and Aunt Clare. Think of them." He gives me one last embrace as the Peacekeeper comes into the room.

"Don't let them starve, Gale! Take care of them! Katniss is strong but she needs you!" I yell. "Let's go." The Peacekeeper drags Gale out of the room. "We'll see you soon, okay?" He shouts back to me.

I wasn't expecting anyone else to visit me, those were the only people I really knew.

Or at least I thought until the door opens for a third time and it reveals Peeta Mellark's father. The Baker, a man I've sold a few animals to for bread. Mainly squirrel, he loves squirrel.

"What you did, it was brave." He speaks up and I only stare at him, confused on why he's here. I'm guessing he already spent his time with his son before coming to me. "And to honor you, Miss Everdeen. I will make sure your family does not starve."

I feel stuck in place but I want to say something, do something to show my gratitude. "Just win this thing, we're all betting on you." He nods his head.

My eyebrows furrow, shocked by his words. They aren't betting on his own son? "Thank you." I mutter. He places a hand on my shoulder, patting it before moving back to the door and leaving the room.

Finally leaving me to my own thoughts, alone until we're moved to the car. Peeta and I are sitting beside one another as Effie sits across from us. "You two are in for a treat! Crystal chandeliers, platinum door knobs, and it flies. We'll be at the Capitol in less than two days. Now before you do anything else..." Her voice grows inaudible to my ears as I stare out the window. Just wanting this nightmare to end. When we exit the car, we're immediately boarding the Tribute Train.

"200 miles an hour and you can barely feel a thing. I think it's one of the wonderful things about this opportunity that even though you're here and it's just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this." She informs us, both of us stay quiet in response, making her feel more and more awkward.

"I'm going to find Haymitch, he's probably in the bar car." She excuses herself, leaving us alone.

"Have you ever met him?" He asks me, I shake my head no. "Haymitch? You know, he is our mentor. He did win this thing once." He tells me and I look at him without turning my head. "Yes, I know." I huff out. "I don't want to talk anymore." I say to him, motioning for him to quiet down. Which he does until the door opens to see a drunken blond haired man.

"Congratulations." He pours himself a bottle of alcohol. He opens the ice container to see that it's empty. "Where's the ice?" He asks us as if we would even know.

"I don't... I don't know." Peeta responds. He slams the ice container back shut. "May I?" He points to the seat but before either of us could respond he's sitting down. "Okay, so uh... when do we start?" Peeta quizzes our mentor.

"Whoa, whoa. So eager. Most of you aren't in such a hurry." Haymitch snickers at him. "Yeah, I want to know what the plan is. You're our mentor. You're supposed to-"

"Mentor?" The older man questions, treating Peeta like he's stupid. "Yeah, our mentor, you're supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice." He explains to the drunk.

"Oh, um, embrace the probability of your imminent death and know in your heart, that there's nothing I can do to save you." He then sweetly smiles at us, my eyes squint in disbelief.

"Why are you even here then?" I ask. "Oh, the refreshments." He swirls the little drink. "Okay, I think that's enough." Peeta goes to grab the drink but Haymitch pins him back down in the chair with his bare foot.

"You made me spill my drink on these brand new pants. You know, I think I'll go finish this in my room." He gets up, I scoff, hiding my face in my hands. We're going to die so fast because of this idiot.

"He's gonna come around." Peeta stands up. "What's the point?" I stopped him. "I'm gonna go talk to him." The blond tells me, leaving to talk to the man.

The tv turns on and shows two men, showing footage from the 73rd Hunger Games. I don't pay attention to it. Only turning it back off. Deciding it might be best to clean up and go to bed. Or just have that time to lay down and cry.

I changed into a red long sleeve and sweatpants that were in the dresser. Before going to bed I take out my braids, putting them into one instead of two. I think about what my family's doing at this very moment. How they feel about everything.

I feel for my father who lost his wife five years ago and now has to deal with the death of his daughter on the big screens. All for stuff that happened 74 years ago.

Children punished for a war they were never even a part of. I just wonder how I'm going to die in the games.

Will it be by a spear, a knife? Maybe even my own weapon I decide to grab. Or the weather? Die of something lame. Who knows.

That night it was difficult to fall asleep, somehow I managed but only got five hours which was more than I even expected. I get dressed before going into the next car.

"You'd freeze to death first." I hear Haymitch's voice. "No, cause I'd have a lot of fire." Peeta disagrees. "Now that's a good way to get killed."

"Why's that a good way to get killed?" I question as I join them. "Oh, joy. Why don't you join us? I was just giving some life saving advice." He grins towards me. "Like what?" I tilt my head.

"Oh, I was just asking about how to find shelter." Peeta informs me. "Which would come in handy if in fact you were still alive." Haymitch adds in. "How do you find shelter?" I place my hands in front of me, clasping them together. "Pass the jam." The long haired man avoids the question.

"How do you find shelter?" I repeat myself. "Give me a chance to wake up sweetheart. This mentoring is very... taxing stuff. Can you pass the marmalade?" Again avoiding the question, I grab a knife that was on a place mat, quickly stabbing in between his fingers.

"That is mahogany!" Effie shouts from the couch she was sitting on. I then look back to our "Mentor".

"Look at you, just killed a place mat. You really wanna know how to stay alive? You get people like you. Oh! Not what you were expecting? Well, when you're in the middle of the Games, and you're starving or freezing, some water, a knife, or even some matches can mean the difference between life and death. And those things only come from sponsors. And to get sponsors, you have to make people like you. And right now sweetheart, you're not off to a real good start." He snaps at me, taking the knife from the table to get the marmalade.

"There it is." Peeta says, thankfully getting me out of this position as he points to the window. He gets up and waves to the cheering crowd.

"Come on, come on!" He tells me, I slowly get up. "You better keep this knife, he knows what he's doing." Haymitch goes to hand me the knife but I stop him. I join Peeta at the window, placing a smile on my face like the blond beside me.

Waving to the crowd.

The next thing to deal with was horrible, being showered down then waxed of all the hair on my body. The prep team talked about me as if I wasn't right in front of them. My nails being oh so dirty, my hair not being brushed thoroughly. The little patches of dirt or coal they can't seem to wash off somehow. Then as the three walk away from me I see them holding something.

"What's that?" I question, trying to look over their shoulders. They didn't answer me at first. "What's that!?" I repeat myself.

"We;re just saying we might need to hose you down again before we take you to Cinna." Flavius tells me.

The torture was over and now I'm alone in a room, cleaned, waxed, plucked raw. I don't understand why it was important when I'm going to be fighting for my survival. A man enters the room and I sit up to be kind of polite.

"That was one of the bravest things I've ever seen. With your cousins. My name is Cinna." The man smiles at me. "[Name]." I give a weak smile. "I'm sorry that this happened to you and I'm here to help you in any way I can." He assures me.

"Thank you, I'm surprised you didn't congratulate me. Like everyone else has." I huff out.

"Well, I don't see the point in that. Tonight, they have the Tribute Parade. We're gonna take you out and show you off to the world." He leans against one of the counters. "What's the point of the parade?" I look up at him.

"You need to make an impression. Now, usually they dress people in clothes from their district." Cinna says, I nod my head. "Yeah, we're always coal miners."

"But I don't want to do that. I wanna do something that they're gonna remember. Did they explain anything about trying to get sponsors?" He asks.

"Yeah, I am scared I won't be what they want to see." I frown at the thought. "Well so far you're far more than anything they expected. I just think someone as brave as you shouldn't be dressed in some stupid costume now, should they?" He smirks, confident in me, something I can't find myself to do.

"I hope not." I say.

"It's safe I promise. It's not real fire. These suits are built so you won't feel a thing." Cinna reassures us. Both Peeta and I are in black outfits. My makeup black as well. My hair being put into two braids kind of like it was at the Reaping but way better looking.

"Looks pretty real to me." Peeta worriedly says. "Well, that's the idea. You ready? Don't be afraid." Cinna questions me. "I'm not afraid." I lied to him.

The parade gets announced and Peeta helps me up on the carriage. "Thank you." I whisper, when I talk it's as if the wind has been knocked out of me. "Of course." He says.

The horses begin to move and I feel my chest rapidly moving up and down.

"Here." Peeta takes my hand, I wanted to let it go but instead I don't. Gripping it tightly without realizing. The fire emits on our clothes and as ours goes down, cheers boom in the audience.

Flowers flying down to us. Peeta lifts our hands in the air. I remember to smile. Waving with my other hand to the people cheering our names and district.

I saw myself on the banners and it was as if I didn't recognize myself. The makeup I was wearing, the cleanliness that no one could ever really achieve in 12.

We come to a stop in front of President Snow who stands up from his seat.

"Welcome, welcome. Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you a Happy Hunger Games. And may the Odds be ever in your favor." The older man grins to us, and as the audience cheers once again we are put into the back.

"That was amazing." Cinna compliments us, Peeta helping me back down, the fire was still burning on our clothes.

"Oh! We are all anybody's going to be talking about!" Effie clasps her hands together, excited.

"So brave." Haymitch slow claps. "Are you sure you should be near an open flame?" I question him. "Fake flame? Are you sure you-" He's cut off by the fact that District 2 were glaring daggers right at me, I confusedly stare right back at them.

"Let's uhh... let's go upstairs."

We get led to the elevator, I stay kind of behind Peeta basically last in the line of us.

"So, each of the districts get their own floor and because you're from 12, you get the penthouse." She grins, the doors open to a large living area. I observe every detail of the lavish living these people get to have.

"So this is the living room. I know, I know! Now, your rooms are right over here. Why don't you go clean yourselves up before dinner?" She suggests, more like telling us what to do. We move to our rooms, once I enter inside mine I admire how large the bed is. How fancy everything is.

I look down at the night stand and see a remote type device. I clicked a button and the screen that looked like a window was changing. I click it all the way until I see a wooded area.

It reminded me of what Gale said. Running away together the three of us. Bringing our family even though Prim wouldn't like it, it would've been better than this.

What if we did it? Would we have made it?

"In 2 weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days, particularly to what I'm about to say. First, no fighting with the other tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the Arena. There are four compulsory exercises. The rest will be individual training. My advice is, don't ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes. 1 percent from infection, 20 percent from hydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife." Atala explains to us as we all stand together in the training center.

I observe the people around me before I do anything else.

"Jason, where's my knife, huh?" The boy from district 2 asks aggressively, Cato I believe his name was. "I didn't touch your knife." Jason defends himself.

"I put my knife right there!" The blond boy shouts. "I didn't touch your knife!" Jason yells back.

"You took my knife, you liar!" Cato accuses. "I didn't!"

"You little punk! You took my knife!"

"I'm just sitting here." Jason crosses his arms.

"I'll finish you right now, kid! Actually better yet, I'll wait for you in the arena. You're the first one I get, so watch your back." Cato threatens the boy.

I glance upwards to see the young girl from district 11 hiding with the knife. I smiled up at her. We make eye contact and I can see she tries to hide her amusement but not very well.

"Everyone back in line!" Atala orders. "You don't know who you're messing with, kid." Cato gets his last words in before we move forward.

"He's a career, you know what that is?" Haymitch asks me.

"From District 2." I nod my head.

"They train in a special academy until they're 18. Then they volunteer. By that point they're pretty lethal." He explains something I already knew because Gale and I used to talk to some Peacekeepers and they told us even though they weren't really supposed to but I'm not going to say that in the Capitol.

"But they don't receive any special treatment. In fact, they stay in the exact apartments you do. And I don't think they let them have dessert. But you can." Effie tells us.

"So how good are they?" Peeta questions. "Obviously, they're pretty good. They win it almost every year but..."

"Almost." Effie cuts him off.

"They can be arrogant. And arrogance can be a big problem. I hear you can shoot." He changes the subject to me and I stiffen up.

"I'm okay. Not the best." I rub my hands together.

"She's better than okay, my father buys her squirrels. He says she hits them right in the eye." Peeta gloats and I raise a brow, what's he getting at? Katniss taught me how to do that. I only started doing that this year too.

"Peeta's strong." I say.

"What?" He scoffs. "He can throw a 100 pound sack of flour right over his head. I've seen it." I tell them.

"Well, I'm not gonna kill anybody with a sack of flour." He rolls his eyes.

"No, but you have a strong skill that will help when needing shelter. You have a way better chance of winning. And besides I'm way better with close intimate fighting which will only get me killed." I fold my arms.

"I have no chance of winning! None! Alright? It's true. Everybody knows it. You know what my mother said? She said District 12 might finally have a winner. But she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you." He angrily admits to me, I feel like I'm melting into my seat. My face is getting flushed. How could his mother say that about him?

"I'm not very hungry." He leaves the table and I get a flashback to his mother yelling at him in the rain. I feel the weight of Katniss in my arms.

"I'm done too." I whisper, getting up after him.

Masterlist

P.M. ML

Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 9 months

Text

So apparently Caesar and Cato both made their early careers out of prosecuting Sulla’s hitmen for the proscriptions, and now I need a detective/lawyer comedy where they’re forced to work together to get Stupid Sexy Catiline thrown off the Tarpeian Rock.

Cato spends half the case attempting to get Caesar arrested for crimes he may or may not have done. Caesar responds by being perfectly amiable and way too friendly with Cato’s sister. Cicero, who gave them the case in an attempt to make them overcome their differences, regrets everything.

#cato and caesar are BFFs (best foes forever)#can you imagine the shouting matches #cato's the only one shouting but caesar provokes him on purpose #so does servilia #cicero won't let either of them in his house anymore #hey new fanfic au #just roman memes #jlrrt speaks #julius caesar #cato the younger

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cloveswifey · 1 year

Text

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.

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aquanova99 · 1 year

Text

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 6

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A/N: I know I know and I’m sorry! Thank you for being so patient and not giving up on me🤍

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Y/Ns POV

My eyes shot open. Your body did not follow. Your muscles were stiff and ached from the slightest movement. Where was I? How did you end up here? You were almost completely covered in what you hoped was the morning dew of the forest. The walls surrounding you seemed to have been made from old tree trunks fallen over a group of rocks. A perfect little makeshift cave of sorts. Too perfect. You were almost sure this was made as a possible hiding place for the tributes, courtesy of the gamemakers. This seemed like a place you would pick to hide in, but from what you recall you didn’t make it very far after collecting Glimmers arrows. The arrows! You needed to get out of here, get your bearings. You needed to push against your protesting muscles. You decided on moving one singular muscle group at a time. You turned your head noticing your packs were still next to you. Your arms were next. Slowly, ever so slowly you patted your body down searching for your knives. Nothing. Not too surprising I guess. Whoever put you here would be an idiot to leave you armed. It took another five minutes just to sit up. You shuffled next to your pack going through every pocket. You small first aid kit seemed rummaged through but other than that nothing seemed out of place. The smaller pack had been mostly cleaned out, probably nothing of real use anyway. You left the other bag you stole from Glimmer. You decided to make your way out of the tiny hole you found yourself in, a much bigger effort now that you were carrying your bag. You needed water. And food, but water was once again, your first priority. Climbing was out of the question. You looked at your canteen… full. Could you trust no one had poisoned it? You shrugged away your worries, if they wanted you dead they could have found a hundred ways to do so by now.

The sun was blinding. You’re only hope was that the careers are hopefully doing much worse off than you. Your brain struggled to get itself together. You were walking target. You allowed yourself a few deep breaths to force yourself together. You recognized the area. Your body moved instinctually until you were at the small body of water that had already once offered you sanctuary when the fire started. How many days ago was that? You finished the water in the canteen before filling it up and setting the iodine drops in. You decided to clean yourself of all of the blood, mud, and sweat you had built up since you were thrown into these games. Even in the worst parts of twelve, you would have never seen anyone look as disheveled as you were right now. The heat levels made you feel secure enough that your clothes would dry out quick enough if you washed them, you hesitated knowing you were still being watched, but after all the blood and gore you doubted they’d care about someone trying to maintain themselves. Honestly if anything, it might give you some brownie points from the capitol. Whatever. You stripped down to your undergarments as you washed what you could out of your clothes. You look at your hands, traces of some makeshift bandages beginning to peel off. You questioned why they wouldn’t just use the first aid kit…You continued to stare before the realization that the location of the tracker jacker stings were almost untraceable. These were not bandages. Great, another debt you may not be able to repay.

You could hear Haymitch scolding you for being so reckless. Here you were trying to…what? Feel clean? Look nice? Meanwhile You were without a weapon and completely out in the open. Stupid. You threw your head back with a sigh, and decided to put on your damp clothes and start regathering yourself. You dig through your pack cursing silently when you realize any rope you have left was burned up in your attempt to flee the fire. You have no choice. You have to head back in the direction you came from. Someone kept you alive. And someone had your weapons. Your mind spins with the jerk of your head towards the sound of a twig snapping. Your eyes begin scanning every inch of the spread of trees before you. You saw nothing. Heard no one. You stay frozen in place, only darting your eyes until they land on the smallest tip of what appears to be a child’s boot.

“Rue??” Her eyes peek from behind the tree, ands it all you cand do from sprinting over to her. Your voice comes out in a harsh whisper, barely managing to contain your excitement “oh my god. Are you okay?”

“You’re worried about me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Did—did you help me?”

She shook her head, “Not just me…uhm are we still allies?”

Relief washed over your body, “of course.”

“I’m sorry I took your knives. Thresh wanted to make sure.” You ask get a rundown of the two nights you were unconscious. There’s only ten of you left. Rue chews on her cheeks, “Y/n…Thresh is injured pretty bad.”

“What?”

“Well…I went find him first and we were running towards the edge of all that smoke from the fire, he wanted to see if could get Arioch while he was more out of it. But the closer we got we heard them find you. We didn’t want them to find us so he climbed a tree to sleep and I went to find you. The tracker jackers freaked the careers out and Thresh went to investigate because I hadn’t made it back to him. They were running back toward the lake by the cornucopia. Clove and Marvel were first and didn’t even see him. Arioch was starting to see things and we don’t know what he saw but he pushed him down and kept running, but well. You know Arioch he pushed really hard and thresh fell back pretty hard. His shoulder looks like bad.”

“He dislocated it?”

“I think so. I found him first because I heard him scream, I think he popped it back into place but he wont tell me. But if he wasn’t hurt he would have gone after the careers. Now they have medicine.”

You knew he had to have been the one who moved you. That probably didn’t help much. No wonder he took your weapons. “Well, lets find him. Once I get that bow we can hopefully get some food.”

“Enjoy your rest?” Thresh asked as the two of you joined him

“Cheerful as always, aren’t we?....How are you doing?”

He shrugged, his first mistake. The pain on his face was evident. Rue asked him about your weapons. Thresh was more than reluctant to give everything back. You couldn’t blame him. With only ten people left the alliance wouldn’t last forever. You saw him wince as he lifted his arm to hand you the knives. You thought about the gift from your sponsor. The fire had hit your leg, but you were quick to swat the fire on your thigh. Your calf was not so lucky. If the medicine from the capitol went deep enough through the layers of skin to heal the burn, you wondered what effects it would have on Thresh’s bruised, and likely strained muscles.

“I don’t know if this will work but, it may help some of the pain.” You rummaged through your bag to pull out the gift from your sponsor. It had done its purpose. Your burn no longer caused any pain, it wasn’t pretty to look at but you could manage that.

He scoffed, “Nice sponsors.”

“Do you want to work with me or not? Take off your shirt so we can try this out.”

He sighed but gave in to your request. If the cream Haymitch sent you had brought a cooling relief when you had first put it on, then at the very least it would relieve some of the stress in Thresh’s shoulder. You grabbed a bandage out of the first aid kit. Thresh’s body reflexively jerked from the touch of your hands on his skin. Though the bruises on his skin were barely visible, it was clear that the slightest contact still brough sharp pain through his body. In a way that was a good thing, it meant that he just needed to rest. On the other hand, he need to rest. And rest was something they couldn’t afford in these games. “How does it feel?”

“Cold. But good. I guess”

You nodded and began wrapping, you started on the top half of his arm. Thresh’s was again, but fortunately and unfortunately, very muscular. He could hold his own in the game, and would hopefully heal quickly. But you would probably use the whole roll of wrapping you had acquired. You prayed none of you needed any more. After starting with the upper half of his bicep you went across his chest to stabilize his shoulder. It would limit his range of motion, but the more he let it rest the longer he would last. You and Rue helped him put his shirt and jacket back on before he spoke again.

“Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you take it?”

“How was I supposed to know what it did?”

“Okay. Fair I guess.” Something told you something didn’t want to betray any trust, probably Rue, “Okay we need to get food. You guys have anything for snares?”

“Nothing. But we have lots of berries and roots. See?” Rue said excitedly, her eagerness brought a smile to your face.

“I guess its my turn to bring something to the table. I’ll be back.” You looked at Thresh’s hesitant face, “Here. You can keep the knives and bags if it makes you feel better about me ditching. Be right back.”

You took a few practice shots before going to far. The bow was easy enough to carry, or it would have been if your body didn’t feel as if it was run over by one of the peacekeeper vehicles. You tried to remember all those times Katniss and Gale would tread carefully near one of your hiding places. You felt ridiculous. You wish you would have taken up Gales offer on going hunting with him and Katniss right about now. Your aim was still off, definitely improved, you would be able to get food. But if it comes down to an arrow your precision could be what loses you the game. You came into a smaller clearing with a flock of birds grazing. If you ever got your hands on more rope, you would remember to set the snares in this area. You shot at the slowest moving bird, you tried to hit the general area of his chest. Your breath steadying as you released the notched arrow. Feathers flew as the birds flapped to make as much distance between you as possible. You got lucky and clipped through one of the wings. Not exactly where you were aiming but it would do for now. You tried not to make a face as you broke the bird’s neck to finish him off. Maybe this is why you never asked to be taught how to shoot. This always made you swallow back any possibility of vomiting. The cracking of bone, the squirming of the animal’s body. Maybe this is why you preferred the spear, though wooden and perhaps not as quick as the metal one from the capitol, they almost always finished off the animal in question.

You tried not to get in your head as you headed back to your new alliance. You had to be honest with yourself. You had picked up the knives quickly. They were lightweight and deadly. Your arms were too shaky with arrow and it affected your aim. You were good with snares but that wasn’t exactly helping take out any tributes. You were, at the end of the day, average or below average in everything. Your best shot was hiding and hoping to pull off another sneak attack like you managed to do with the tracker jackers. And even then, you wouldn’t have even noticed them without Rue. You’d never won in hand to hand combat in the training center, you had little chance of making out of a physical fight alive, that had always been Peetas strength.

Peeta…Where was he right now? Not with the careers according to Rue. Was he okay? Should you even care at this point?

“Nice catch 12.” Thresh grunted as you stepped back into view

“Thanks. I don’t suppose you’d mind plucking this thing?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, sure. And its groosling.”

“A groosling?”

Rue jumped down from a smaller tree, “Yeah we have them all over 11, when they come into the field we get a decent lunch.”

“Not much food there either?”

“No, you get in a lot of trouble if you take anything you harvest. They’ll whip you in front of everyone. Thresh act—”

*ahem Thresh coughed. You didn’t need to hear more. Your heart sank. You would have never thought you’d be grateful to have been from 12. “We better be quick about cooking up this bird. We don’t want to risk lighting anything once it gets dark.”

They both nodded and as Thresh worked you asked more about the Careers camp Rue had spied on. She had made good work of flying through the trees. They had replaced Peeta with the boy from 3, Elias. Why would he be working with the careers, he wasn’t a fighter, and he couldn’t bring food to them. The thought made you uneasy. Rue was explaining how they had set up all of their supplies in one big pile. The seemed risky, could the tracker jackers have messed with their mind that badly? As Rue is finishing telling you about seeing Peeta head towards a river in the opposite direction of the careers Thresh plops down next to her. “Now, what?”

You make quick work of starting a fire, and begin cooking. You have to entrust Thresh and Rue to make sure the bird cooked through while you stand in case the smoke gets too visible and draws in wanted attention. Much to Thresh’s chagrin.

“Y/n. Its all done.” Rue says quietly, you proceed to quickly douse the fire and stomp out any remaining embers. You hand a knife to Thresh and tell to cut off however much he wants to eat, you cut off thigh and leg, and hand it to Rue. “I’ve never had a whole leg to myself before.”

“Well, you need to keep your strength up.” You smile at each other. You slice off some of the bird’s breast and begin eating. For a moment all the three of you can do is pick apart the food and eat. It was a good a meal as any back home. You felt your body relax a bit more. You should probably save more of the bird, but not much you could do with it. Might as well have the energy to get through the next day.

“How long do we do this?” Thresh asked the question youd been avoiding

“The careers need to go. Then we split.” The steadiness in your voice surprised you. Thresh nodded, Rue changed the subject on dividing any food leftover in case they get split up. You noticed neither of them had had the luxury of finding a sleeping bag. “Thresh you and Rue can share the bag. I’ll keep watch first. We can switch out when its your turn.”

They both looked at you shocked that you had offered something so valuable. Thresh regained his composure first, “Thanks. So how do we take care of the careers?”

“I don’t know. But if all of their food is in one pile, it sounds tempting to find a way to destroy it.”

“That could get us killed.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“You two fight a lot.” Rue chimed in, giggling

You sighed, “You’re right. I want to destroy their food. It gives us the best chance at winning.”

Thresh echoed his own sigh, “Alright. Lets figure out what we’re doing tomorrow.”

You perch yourself up against a tree and hope the venom lingering in your body doesn’t drag you into slumber. You think about the best way to draw the careers from the cornucopia, but unless their up to hunting the rest of us down there’s little you can do to avoid being seen. You draw in the dirt in front of you with your knife until a voice draws your attention.

“I think it was all fake you know?”

“What?”

“The whole love act you and the other guy from 12 put up.”

“It was an act, you didn’t hear about him working for the careers?”

“Yeah and I’ve also heard you trying to figure out if he actually saved you. I also know he isn’t working with careers anymore.”

“He was probably just trying to make people think he’s in love with me. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.” You go back to playing with your knife. You knew it was an act because you knew who Peeta was actually in love with. Still, why did he try and get you to leave? And did he actually fight Arioch?

“Those glasses in your bag…you should use them at night if you want to actually see anyone coming.”

“They’re night glasses??”

“Yeah.”

You put them on immediately. Almost letting out a laugh from your surroundings, it would definitely help you see if anyone was coming. Thresh said nothing else, and you let him rest until your eyes could no longer stay awake. Rue cuddled into you, reminding you of how lonely these games feel when you work by yourself. You missed people, you missed your family, and the few friends you had. The warmth of Rues body pressed against you lulls you into a deep slumber. The boom of the cannon scares you awake, and it takes everything to not scream as you bolt upright. The careers were hunting again. Which meant you had to destroy their supplies, today.

You missed dusk, so cooking anything was out of the question. You had some of the groosling left over for each of you but you would need to wait to for anything of sustenance. Rue had found eggs for all of you in a marsh, while the texture would usually make you want to puke, you have to eat. You learned about Rue, the oldest sibling, fiercely protective of them, even risking foraging knowing about the peacekeepers harsh punishments. She tells you about her love of music, you smile at the light in her eyes.

“Do you get a chance to enjoy music at home?” you ask

“We sing at home. At work, too. That’s why I love your pin,” she says, pointing to the mockingjay that I had all but forgotten. You cant help but agree. Your brothers, they didn’t mind working in silence. But when you had first had to find food you would wake up dangerously early and you hated it but there was something about listening the birds singing as if to welcome you into their world. Rue talks about making friends with the mockingjays, how she uses them to signal everyone that its time to go home. You begin unclasping your pin but Rue stops you, and says that it let her know she could trust you. Rue starts to talk about Thresh, but she barely manages to get out that he has no siblings before he interrupts.

“So, whats the plan 12?”

“Are you ever going to use my name?”

“Not likely.”

You rolled your eyes, he took stubborn to a different level. In a way you understood. The less you knew, the more you could separate the games. Only one person made it out, you had to keep telling yourself that. You all decided on your plan by lunch. We would meet back at the same site, close to the stream. You leave them the sleeping bag in case they need it. You could probably find the other bag you had hidden away in the beginning of the games. But decide to omit that information.

“What about you? Won’t you be cold?”

“Hey, don’t worry about me. Stealing isn’t illegal here. Ill find something before I get rid of the careers.”

Rue teaches me her mockingjay song. A signal that we are okay but can’t come right away. Before you leave Rue wraps you in a hug, which you return. There may not be much time left, and you needed her to know how much these last couple days meant to you.

“You be careful.” She says

“You guys too. I’ll see you at dinner. Take care of Thresh okay?” You joke as you poke her belly, she giggles and goes to join Thresh

“Good luck.” He says with a huff

You nod and go to make your way to the stream.You try to move as quickly and silently as you can. Your mind racing with thoughts concerning Rue, Peeta, your family. Was Peeta the death the canon was alerting you to? What would happen if it coms down to you and Rue or Thresh? Would you be able to make the first move? Take the first shot? And your family? You risked everything by coming down here, were they okay? Did the mayor decide to punish them for making a scene during the Reaping?

The closer you got to the career camp had you pause at any sound or movement in the woods. You had a knife out and ready, if more than one career showed up it would give you a better chance of making an accurate kill versus trying to restring your bow. Your shooting skills were alright but they were slow, you couldn’t renock your arrow quickly and to get an accurate shot you had to stand almost completely still. You weren’t going to risk dying with those odds. When you get to the hiding spot Rue told you about you allow yourself to sheath your knives and get your bow out. The careers are moving slowly, their body is covered in bumps from the tracker jacker stings. If they had gotten medicine it wasn’t working all that well. The supplies were in a pyramid, it so tempting but its clear that it had to be booby trapped. Most likely Elias’ doing, he was from three, the technology district. You couldn’t remember his score. He had shrunk away when you had tried to talk to him. But if he was anything like his other victors, you were sure he had a few tricks up his sleeves. You knew better than to count anyone out. For now, theres noting to do but wait, wait for them to reveal what the trap was, wait for them to go hunting, or wait for Rue and Thresh to get the fires going.

Arioch’s shouts let you know the alter is what was happening. You can hear an argument start. Marvel and Clove think they should leave Elias to guard the supplies.

“Hes coming. No ones touching the supplies anyway.”

“And lover boy?” Marvel asks. So, Peeta was alive for now. You don’t know whether to feel relief or frustration. You wondered if they were fighting to keep Elias away so they could take the chance to deal with Arioch before its too late.

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t bled out yet. He isn’t moving, and he definitely is not an issue. You don’t think I know where I hit him?” He grabs a spear and pushes it into Elias, “Come on. And if its her I get the kill, my way. Everyone understand?”

Probably doesn’t mean Rue if you had to guess. You sit for a while longer, not knowing what exactly would be the best option here. You’re about to get closer when you see the girl from five, Cora, run towards the pile. You have to stop yourself from shouting out. She was willing to talk to you about alliances, but you doubted with so little people she would trust you now. And Thresh certainly work with you with someone else on board. You see her dance to the supplies. It was so deliberate. She was smart enough that you knew she would be able to tell that it was booby trapped, and she had figured out exactly what the trick was. She overshot one of her jumps and fell forward, a squeal escapes her. It suddenly clicks. You look back at the plates you had all stood on as you waited for the timer to count down. The dirt dug around it, then uneven patches of land. Elias was even smarter than you had thought. Rerigging the mines. No one has ever done that. For a split second you smiled at the thought of something being pulled over the gamemakers before you realize that unless you wanted to sacrifice yourself there was going to be no way of getting to the supplies after all. Your memory was good but you had already forgetten Coras dance. And she was probably long gone for me to offer any kind of truce.

Damn it. You scan everything in the pyramid of food and crates. You had no chance of getting from here. Rue and Thresh’s second fire had begun. The careers were smart enough to figure out something was off. You needed to think of something, and you needed to think of something now. Your eyes land on the bag of apples. No way. Theres absolutely no way. You might waste every arrow. You take a deep breath, you had to do this. You could do this. You step out into the clearing. Just enough to give yourself a good enough shot. You start to open and close your hand steadying it to the best of its abilities. You aim near the middle of the bag to see exactly where your arrows would land, you could readjust after. Its high, but that works in your favor. If you aim there again you might be able to release the apples entirely. You shoot another arrow and another, the arrows getting close but not enough your arms begin to shake with the tension of the bow. You take one last deep breath. You see an apple precariously balancing as you release a fifth arrow and finally the bag rips.

You only have a chance to be upset about your wasted arrows before the explosion sends you flying into the air.

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Catos POV

Come on… come on. Get up. You have to keep moving. Y/n’s face wavers for only a second as she sees the blood come from her ear, she doesn’t try and stand. Just begins to crawl back to tiny Rues hiding spot. Y/n puts up her hood avoiding any possibility of a blood trail. The screen flashes back to your tributes rushing to get back to the camp site. The boy from three did a good job. Too good. If he was smart he would begin running in another direction. The camera is back to Y/n as a loose crate triggers another mine. Y/n struggles to get herself back to a crawl with every stray explosion.

Y/n settles into her hiding spot seconds before Arioch breaks through the clearing. His usual tantrums seemed minor to the rage he displayed for the entirety of Panem. His hair forcefully came out in clumps. He began kicking and throwing anything that wasn’t destroyed in the wreckage as Clove and Marvel pointed to the sky, trying to explain that whoever set off the mines was probably long gone, and simultaneously avoiding getting too close.

The boy realized he should leave too late. He had only begun to turn around before Arioch came up to him and snapped the kid’s neck. Quick and painless. Probably. But nothing like Y/n would deal with if she didn’t figure out how to get out of there. Until they decided to go hunting she was stuck. The night sky offered nothing for the careers, Arioch cussed some before putting on the night glasses and heading in the direction of the last fire. The camera panned to Thresh and Rue, they decide to hide out until morning. They have no way to see and would probably get them caught. They stay at the third campsite and you realize theres nothing else you can worry about for now.

Exhaustion covers you. You let your head the back of the couch your sitting at. Victors from every district begin walking out. The capitol starts to play out some highlights of the tributes that lost today. You decide to turn on the screen in your room to play the live footage. The next day was sure to bring some, hopefully pleasant, surprises.

It did not. You didn’t fall asleep until early in the morning and miss the first few events. Everyone was beginning to gather in the screening room. The tributes had all been impressive this year to say the least.

“So, what happened?”

He looked you up and down before answering, “Jesus kid, do you ever sleep? (Not really you thought) And so far nothing, Thresh left Rue to see if Y/n needed help. Y/n is trying to find Thresh and Rue and she keeps snapping her fingers near her ear, so I’m going to assume she cant hear right now.”

That couldn’t be good. Being able to know when someone is coming is crucial to the games. Its leaving her with a weakness. The victors with tributes left talk sponsors. The two from your own district are going to have a hard time paying off all the supplies the sponsors wanted to send down. For now, they were holding off. The day drug on. Y/n was now anxiously waiting for Rue and Thresh to meet back where they planned. Rue was waiting for her and Thresh. And Thresh was checking around your tributes’ camp. The room continued to get more and more full. Haymitch noticed your leg starting to tap first,

“Nothings happened yet, if you need to go catch up on that sleep you obviously lack in your life.”

You nodded and began to leave the room. Deciding to work in the training room for a while and then spent some time outside. You were gone longer than usual, Enobaria had slowly been easing up on her guard duties, but it was better not to risk it. The fresh air calmed your nerves. You wondered when you would be able to be around people again like a normal human being. Not that you knew what being “normal” looked like. You’ve spent your whole life in a training center, then you were able to go into the games, and now…what? You still didn’t know what to do. Your life’s purpose had been the games. You went home for a week and realizes your parents were strangers to you. Proud of the accomplishments you’d brought your districts but widely uninterested in anything else. You knew nothing but to kill and survive the games. It felt empty, the last time you’d felt a spark of anything was…with y/n. And that was only because she refused to be afraid of the reputation that preceded you. She saw you as a human being, made you feel like a human being… It had been eight days since you told her you hoped she would make it back, I mean it had been eight days since the tributes were sent to the arena…

You decided to go back to the screening room. Everyone was silent. Not the best sign. Enobaria waved for you to sit next to her, “Rue is close to setting off a trap.”

You looked at one of the victors from 11. The woman, Seeder was unable to look at the screen. Chaff, sat next to her couldn’t peel his eyes away. She sang her four-note song to the mockingjays, the song that signified she was safe. The birds quickly picked up the tune. The camera panned to Y/n. It took a minute but she heard the melody and quickened her pace toward the song. The camera panned to Marvel, him, Clove and Cato split up to try and cover more ground. And likely to be ready to hunt each other once they took care of Y/n and Thresh. The only real threat to their game. The camera shoots back and forth from Y/n who had finished singing her response, to Rue, and a split second later a net descends upon her.

You could hear a pin drop. The room was silent. The young girl struggles to free herself. If she stays quiet, Y/n will reach her in minutes. But you realize Rue is a child. And children scream when they’re scared.

Y/N is sprinting the second she hears Rue scream her name, she responds letting whoever was there know she was coming. She should wait to see if any other tributes were incoming, but there was no logic behind this move. Only emotion. Y/n breaks through the clearing, the camera is focused on the young girl reaching towards her ally. But anyone who has watched games could tell there is something afoot when the camera panned into a high shot. Marvel has made it to the clearing as Rue says Y/ns name reaching for her.

Y/n and Marvel stare at eachother. A second had passed before Marvel took a step. His arm has thrown the spear right into Rue's abdomen. Y/n seems to suddenly remember what’s happening around her as she throws her knife into the center of his chest. You realize Y/n hasnt seen where the spear has landed, shes focused on the career about to run at her. You wonder if the shock affects her aim because the knife lands on his left side. A lung. He was dead either way. He’d bleed out the second he removed it. Y/n seems to know this because she runs toward him as he staggers forward, falling to his knees. For a split second you see Gloss and another guy from District 1 leave the room, probably to go make some phone calls probably for the sponsors. It was customary to be allowed to be yelled at by the ones who lost their gamble.

Marvel falls again but to his side. Y/n stands over him and seems to hesitate before pulling the knive out and driving it into the guys heart, she pulls it out quickly and a canon booms overhead. She seems to have just registered that his spear was still missing. She quickly turns to Rue as she weakly says her name again and begins untangling her from the net.

'Oh my God.'

'No. No no no.'

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ Y/n is visibly shaking as she holds Rue’s hand. Repeating an unnecessary apology. Anyone watching would know she tried everything to get to her in time, including Rue. She was clever, she would know... understand. Rue asks her about the food and Y/n assures her she took care of it.

‘One of you guys have to win.’

Y/n is nodding, tears unable to stop flowing from her face. ‘Its going to be okay now.’ She tells her.

‘Don’t go?’

Y/n pulls Rue into her, brushing her hair out of her facing and stroking her cheek, siping it free of any tears the girl had no control in releasing, ‘Of course not. I’m staying right here.’

As Y/n continues to rock her, Rue asks her to sing. Y/n nods and sings an odd tune you’ve never heard before. Not that music was something you often heard in the training camp in 2. Haymitch tells you its an old lullaby. Well, he mumbles it to the room. A single tear drops from Seeder’s eye as she pats Chaffs hand and walks out of the room. The mockingjays pick up the melody of the song as she finishes. Y/n lays the child down as if she were taking a nap. Thresh bursts in too late.

‘What happened?’ he growled

Y/n is silent for a moment. At first, I think shes trying to steady her breathing. Maybe worried he’s going to have an Arioch level meltdown, ‘I got here too late. I only managed to get one career before the other one killed her. They didn’t have a weapon after they shot her. So, they got away.’

‘You didn’t chase them???”

‘Dont yell at me. Rue asked me to stay! Where were you??’ You wondered how the lie would play out outside of the game. Because now you were sure, one of them would be the ones to come back. There was no doubt in your mind. It was a smart move, if Thresh is feeling vengeful he may take out one of the other two threats in the game.

He lets out a scream in frustration, he says nothing about where he was ‘That’s it. Its done.’

‘Wh-what do you mean? We haven’t taken out Arioch yet!”

“Its getting too personal. Lets split up what we have and go.’

Y/n hesitates for a while before she just nods, ‘Fine.’

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Y/Ns POV

You finished separating everything quickly. You tried but fail to stop tears from falling. You were furious you hadn’t been fast enough, furious it wasn’t Arioch that ran through the clearing, furious that you felt sick to your stomach. Every camera was on you and you couldn’t hold your emotions together. But this was Rue, she deserved more than an act the capitol forced you to put on.

“Is that everything?” All you could do was nod. You were losing two allies in one day. It was too much to process right now. Thresh nodded and began walking away. You forced yourself to say something, anything.

“Hey Thresh!...Just-- Make sure you rest your shoulder.”

He paused for only a second, only when you called his name. He didn’t look back, “Thanks…. I hope I don’t see you again, 12.”

You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah, the feelings mutual.” And it was. You knew now that you wouldn’t be able to take that first move in the end. And you didn’t think he would either. Peetas words echoed in your head. You were so quick to dismiss what he said about being a piece in the games, but he was right. You were more than that. Rue was more than that. You couldn’t even be mad at Marvel. We were forced in here. Forced to kill each other.

Finish it, he had said. You were going to let him suffer for killing her. Training center be damned. His lips had barely croaked it out, Finish it. Finish it. Finish it. No one deserved to die alone. No matter what the cameras saw you knew they wouldn’t have made out his request. You held his arm while you sunk the knife into his flesh a second time. I would want that. To not be alone when it was my time to go. You couldn’t even really offer that to him not with Rue taking priority, but you hoped that somewhere he knew that his life wasn't meaningless. That you wished there was more you could do. But you were just one person.

You took a step into the woods and stopped. You collect any flower you could carry and bring them back over to where Rue and Marvel were resting. You started with Marvel first. You laid him down gently putting some flowers in his hand and placed sporadically around him. Rue took more time, she deserved more time. You placed flowers in her beautiful dark and curly hair, around her body, covering the fatal wound. By the time you finish it looks as if she fell asleep in a field of flowers, as if she had just stopped to take a quick nap. You press a quick kiss to her forehead, “Bye, Rue.”

A mockingjay warns you about the incoming hovercraft. You step to the edge of the clearing, unable to tear your eyes away. You hold in every profanity in your vocabulary bank and vulgar gestures as you see the flying vehicle come in to collect the bodies. As if it were routine. As if the two lifeless bodies meant nothing. Grief suddenly overtakes you and angry tears stream down your face as you fall to your knees. A young mockingjay lands on a branch next to you and sings Rues simple four-note song. The song that meant she was safe. Not here, but safe. You feel your lips tug in a smile and you pick your self up and continue walking. You aren’t sure where, back to the stream by the looks of it. You sit against the trunk of the tree you will be sleeping in today. You want to wait until sunset for no other reason than that your body felt suspended in time. You are about to try and stand when you see another parachute floating down in your direction. You almost drop the canister the second you open it. Peeta talked to you about the different kinds of bread in the districts, this wasn’t from 12. It could only be from Rues district. Suddenly you have more tears left to cry.

You stand up, “Thank you to the people in District 11.” Thank you for everything, you say to yourself. You begin climbing, all of the tears have exhausted you. And you are in no shape to kill anyone today. Anyone else, you remind yourself. The second you settle into a branch your body feels heavy, as if you couldn’t move if you wanted to. Sleep threatens to take you, which would be fine if you didn’t know the nightmares that would await you.

Then you realized you wanted them to come. You deserved them. A penance for living. For wanting to live after what happened and would happen to the tributes around…. Would happen? Hm. You were getting out of here. And you were going to win the Hunger Games.

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