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beckyninja · 2 months ago

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Dark Intentions

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Violence against those who do and don't deserve it

Description: Dark plots are uncovered in the aftermath of the Guilliman's fiancée's "death".

Did any of you really think I'd end Guilliman and the Reader's story like that?

This is the latest in my GuillimanxFemReader series. Check out the previous fics (and others) on my Masterlist.

She is gone.

Sirens blared. Voices shouted.

She is gone.

“Their ships have disappeared from all scanners!” “Picking up a warp signature… they’re fleeing!” “Wait…missile launches!”

Gone.

“Report on missile trajectory!” “They’re not aimed at us, Lord.”

Gone.

“Holy Terra!”

New explosions lit the void as missiles riddled Captain Takahashi’s ship. The sleek, tapered vessel writhed as if in agony for a few moments before its spine shattered. Charred debris spun in all directions, bouncing off the Macragge’s Honor’s void shields.

Gone.

In the time between heartbeats. Between breaths. One moment warm and full of life. The next….

“My Lord Primarch!”

Guilliman looked upon the scowling visage of Cato Sicarius, only to see his expression morph into something else. Something pale and wide-eyed. The Captain of the Victrix Guard took a step back.

“Prepare to enter the Warp.”

His words? Yes, he felt his lips move, the vibration of his vocal chords.

“We pursue.”

Why could he not recognize his own voice?

“My Lord,” Cato struggled to maintain eye contact, “without a set destination-”

“More contacts, my lords!” The serf at the communications cogitator shouted. “I am picking up numerous small vessels. Life pods from the destroyed cruiser.”

Guilliman turned away. Back toward the void. He heard himself speak once more.

“Send transports to retrieve the survivors. One of them will show us the final approach to… her… home world. We will chase those who did this back to their very gates.”

Something flickered within the hollowed out shell of his soul. It grew into a howling conflagration, yet his voice remained colder than a Fenrisian winter.

“And they will know pain.”

***

Battle Brother Julian Tarchus fought to awaken. He felt as though he was drowning in the ocean he’d swam in as a boy, clawing toward the surface with all his might. Fragmented images raced through his mind.

Bent nearly double in the passenger compartment of the foreign transport… you seated next to him… your sympathetic smile….

A sudden thrum… another, identical ship appearing out of nowhere next to them… an impact…an explosion…curling himself around you….

The bitter taste of chemicals as gas filled the compartment.

“...metabolizing the sedative. Faster than anything I’ve ever seen!”

“Increase the dosage again.”

He forced his eyes open.

Bright, white lights nearly blinded him. He lay in what he could only describe as an Apothecarion of some kind. Screens flashed data. Unfamiliar medical equipment loomed above him. No candles. No holy shrines.

Not an Imperial ship.

He tried to rise from his prone position, only to meet resistance.

“Doctor! He’s waking up!”

Tarchus turned his head to see a male baseline in a flimsy looking uniform of some kind, white as everything else seemed to be in this damned chamber. A cloth mask covered his lower face. Fear flickered in his wide eyes.

“I said increase the dosage, damn you!”

Turning his head the other way brought another male baseline into view. Slightly different uniform. Same mask.

He glared at the first male. “Useless! I’ll do it myself!”

He reached for a bag of clear liquid hanging to one side, syringe in hand.

Tarchus reacted first. He tore through whatever bound his wrists with contemptuous ease and lurched upward. The world spun. He felt his body breaking down whatever poisons they’d injected into him, but his reaction time still seemed pathetically slow.

The first baseline screamed and fled, dodging the Ultramarine’s grasp by millimeters as he scrambled through a door on the opposite side of the chamber.

“Warp…damn it….” Tarchus rasped through a bone-dry throat.

“We have an emergency!” The Ultramarine turned to see the second baseline babbling into some kind of vox-caster set into the white wall. “Subject has awakened and appears hostile! Send armed aid to Surgical Room-” His voice turned to a gurgle as Tarchus’s fingers wrapped around his throat.

The warrior lifted the writhing baseline off his feet, watching the man’s face begin to purple. Only then did he realize they’d stripped him of his armor and body suit.

He stood in the white room in nothing but his loincloth.

Rage tightened his grip on the struggling chirurgeon, for so the baseline must be.

“Where…is…the…Lady?”

Lord Guilliman had given him a sacred task: protect his betrothed at all costs. It was a task Tarchus had volunteered for, even against the disapproval of Captain Sicarius. Their Genefather saw value in you.

You who looked at him with neither fear nor slavish subservience.

You who went out of your way to converse with him.

You who he found himself liking.

You belonged to the Chapter now. He would not fail you.

The baseline’s eyes rolled back in his sockets. Tarchus huffed and dropped him to the tiled floor. The man gasped. The Ultramarine smelled the sour stench of fresh urine.

“I…will not…ask again.”

“Sh-sh-she is-”

The door burst open. Tarchus grunted as what felt like a half dozen projectiles slammed into his back. He spun towards the intruders.

Theoretical: Charge is missing. Probability suggests you remain somewhere in this locale. Crew has proven hostile. Armor and weapons unavailable.

Practical: Attain armor and weapons. Search locale. Permanently remove obstructions. Not necessarily in that order.

He charged the armed baselines in the doorway.

More projectiles peppered his upper chest. To their credit, the soldiers in strange, carapace-like armor held their ground… for the first few seconds.

He crushed a helmeted head in one fist. With the other hand he backhanded a soldier, sending him flying into the wall. A kick dispatched another with a wet crunch. Blood spattered. The thrill of battle lit within his veins.

Then the enemy broke and ran.

Tarchus found himself in a broad corridor of shining metal. When he straightened, the top of his head brushed the grated ceiling. Alarms blared and red lights flashed.

Well, it is not as if I was trying for stealth.

A grim humor twisted his lips as he strode forward. He considered going back to question the chirurgeon again, then decided against it. If these humans held you captive, he could not afford to waste a second.

Signs dotted the doors and walls he passed. He scowled, wishing he’d thought to learn to read your language as well as speak it. Nothing to do but press forward. Glancing through the few open doors revealed more medical equipment and tables.

Still in whatever passes for the Apothecarion, then.

The sheer amount of artificial illumination disoriented him. He found himself longing for the dim corridors and flickering candlelight of an Imperial warship.

Am I even on a voidship? How long was I unconscious?

He pushed such questions from his mind.

Shouts and the pounding of boots on metal sounded ahead. He frowned. The projectile weapons the first soldiers had used did little against his toughened skin. But his enemies knew that now, and doubtless would utilize more destructive arms.

Without his armor he remained at a disadvantage.

I should proceed with caution.

A sharp cry from around the approaching corner electrified every nerve in his body. He knew that voice.

Caution be damned!

He bellowed and charged. “For the Emperor!”

The pair of soldiers setting up what looked to be a heavy lasgun had no time to even cry out before he was upon them. Wiping blood and brain matter from his eyes, he lifted the weapon. Not a lazgun, but he could see no projectiles either.

No matter. As long as it deals death and ruin.

Just ahead, more soldiers crouched behind a makeshift barricade of crates and tables. One hefted a long tube to his shoulder and pointed it in his direction. Tarchus pulled his weapon’s trigger and the white beam it produced reduced the soldier to a charred husk.

The Ultramarine grinned.

“Tarchus!”

He shifted his attention to a knot of figures further behind the barricade. There was a short struggle, and a disheveled female pushed forward.

You.

“Praise the Emperor.” He rasped, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders.

His relief turned to white hot rage as another figure stretched out a hand and caught you by your hair. The tall baseline male yanked you back against him, pressing a pistol to your throat.

Tarchus growled.

“Drop the cannon, brute. Or watch me paint the walls with her blood.”

For an instant, the Ultramarine hesitated. A mistake that cost him dearly.

Weight like a Land Raider dropped upon his shoulders. It drove him to his knees, the breath forced from all three lungs. He heard you scream and fought to rise...

…to no avail.

Whatever trap they’d laid held him pinned to the floor like an insect beneath a boot. He squeezed the weapon’s trigger once more, bisecting the first two soldiers who dared approach, before feeling it yanked from his weakening grasp.

He tried to curse his enemy, to make any noise at all, only to find he lacked the breath to do so. Craning his neck, his eyes met your horrified gaze.

Forgive me.

A half hysterical laugh. “Well, well, dear cousin! It seems the famed Space Marines aren’t so invincible after all! Kill him.”

The approach of boots. A cold muzzle against his temple.

Not like this. Emperor, not like this!

“Wait!” You screamed.

Your captor’s voice sank into a vicious hiss. “Are you fond of your betrothed’s attack dog, my dear? Would you have him live?”

Tarchus thrashed with all that remained of his fading strength. “No…,my Lady, do not….”

Your next words drowned him in shame. “Don’t kill him, Victor. I’ll do whatever you want. But please don’t kill him!”

No.

“It’s a deal then.” Victor’s triumphant laugh rang throughout the corridor. “As long as you cooperate, the beast lives. Sergeant? If you would?”

The muzzle lifted from his temple. Tarchus heard the crackle of electricity. Then white hot pain lanced through his skull, driving him back down into darkness.

It paled in comparison to the agony of failure.

***

Victor’s fingers dug into your arm as he dragged you through the bowels of his ship. You felt his nails break skin, adding to the innumerable cuts and bruises covering your body. You ached.

Part of you still prayed this was all a nightmare. That you’d awaken in your bed aboard The Macragge’s Honor, soon to bask in the warmth of blue eyes again.

Oh Light! Roboute!

He thought you dead. You knew it with absolute certainty. Tears filled your eyes as you imagined his anguish.

“Crying again?” Your cousin snorted. “How very unattractive.”

In an instant, your grief turned to fury. “You bastard!”

He laughed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you!”

The mercenaries escorting the two of you snickered. Your face burned.

“I hate you.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Careful now. You know what happens if you try me.”

Tarchus….

He’d fought so hard to save you. How your heart had leapt when he’d come charging around that corner, bellowing his battle cry! How it had bled when he lay helpless under tons of scrap metal.

The look in his eyes when you surrendered your dignity to save him.

Even if he survives, he’ll never forgive me.

“Where did your animals take him?”

The mercenaries stopped snickering and glared. You lifted your chin and glared straight back.

Victor didn’t spare you a glance. “The Predator’s brig is extensive, cousin. I had it expanded just recently.” He giggled. “And he won’t be lonely.”

“What have you done?”

“In a moment, fair cousin.” He jerked to a halt, pushing you roughly against a wall. “Ah! Here we are!”

A few punches of a key code and a door slid open. You were dragged into a room that could have belonged to your family’s most luxurious manor house. Plush carpets covered the floor, except for the gilded tiles beneath a bubbling fountain. Heavy, cushioned furniture of rare wood furnished the chamber: chairs, a table laden with flowers and delicacies, and a massive, four-poster bed.

“Impressive, no? I had it designed as an exact copy of my bedchamber in the Palace.” He shoved you toward a chair. “Sit. Relax.”

You gazed up at him.

“Speechless?” He grinned, the scar on his cheek gleaming scarlet, and turned to his guards. “Out.”

The older of the two hesitated. “Any orders for the Captain, my Prince?”

Victor sighed. “The same as they were the last time he asked. Make straight for TerraNova with all speed.”

“And…if we’re followed?”

“By who? The Barbarian King thinks she’s dead.” He jerked a thumb in your direction. “Investment gone. He’ll cut his losses and move on. And even if he does try to follow,” Victor grinned, “without the good Captain to guide him through the Wards, he could spend centuries wandering the void and never find our system.”

You leapt to your feet. “What have you done to Captain Takahashi?”

“Oh, I sent a dozen or so nukes into her cruiser as we entered the Warp. Had to make sure, you know.”

Horror. Fury. You threw yourself at him with a scream.

He caught your flailing hands and laughed. “Temper, temper, cousin. That little outburst will cost your beast an eye.”

You froze. “No, Victor-”

“See to it, Sergeant.”

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry!”

He only laughed again, catching you against his chest as the mercenaries left the room. You sagged against him.

Tarchus, forgive me.

Helplessness. You remembered this feeling. You swore you’d never feel it again. What a fool you’d been.

Victor’s hands ran up and down your back. “There we go. Isn’t it easier when you stop fighting?”

He pushed, and you collapsed back into the chair, staring at nothing. Numb.

Your cousin crouched before you. “And here I was worried you’d grown a spine. Happy to see I was wrong.” He grasped your chin, tilting it back and forth. “Pretty enough. Though I still can’t see why a so-called demi-god would want you.”

Roboute.

He’d had such faith in you. Your eyes focused once more.

“I’ll ask again, Victor. What are you doing?”

He stood and sauntered over to the table, poking amongst the fruits and sweets. “I was supposed to make sure you were dead. That’s what Granny Dearest ordered. You dead, me the Heir, and she the ultimate power.”

“What about the coup?”

“Oh, it’s going wonderfully! Grandmother’s forces have trapped the Grand Council on the Eastern Continent. She’s been stocking the military with her supporters for decades now, you see. And those who wouldn’t fall in line?” He shoved a chocolate into his mouth. “Well, the asteroid mining camps always need more free labor.”

Decades. They’d been planning this for decades.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “And Conrad?”

“Disappeared. But who cares about him, anyway? Pitiful little intellectual.” He spat the word.

“Did my message even make it through?”

Victor shrugged. “And if it did? Who would react? The Council is fighting for their lives. The Military is ours.”

“The people-”

“Are a rabble of cowards, so used to being under Granny’s boot they couldn’t rise up even if they wanted to.”

You gritted your teeth. “The Church, then.”

Your cousin’s grin sent chills down your spine. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Grandmother began a purge of the Abbeys and Monasteries shortly after you left. Hotbeds of rebellion, those places.”

You felt as though he’d punched you in the stomach.

The Abbey. The Holy Sisters. My home.

Rage boiled within you again, but this time, you held it back.

“Why do this, Victor? Grandmother is already Matriarch. What more could she want?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” He slouched against the table. “Ever since she usurped the Patriarch, our much revered Grandfather, Granny’s craved power like a twitcher craves stims. The Council, the Articles of Government, all these things stood in her way.”

You thought of the years you’d spent locked within the Palace. Alone. Isolated. While schemes were being hatched all around you.

If I’d been braver, stronger, could I have prevented this? How many lie dead because I was too stupid to-

No. You could not let regret paralyze you. Not now.

Your hand sought the ring Roboute had given you. Perhaps touching it would bring you some much needed strength.

By the Light! The ring!

You stared down at your bare hand.

“Looking for this?” Victor tossed something that glittered gold and blue up and down in his hand. “Pretty bauble. Did he give it to you?”

You clenched your hands into fists.

The beacon. How could I have forgotten?!

Victor’s hand closed around it. “I think I’ll hang onto it. Wouldn’t be right for my consort to wear jewelry gifted to her by another man.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Your consort.”

He stalked toward you. “I saved you, you know. Grandmother wanted you dead, but I defied her.”

You pushed yourself back into the chair as he knelt before you, idly slipping Roboute’s ring into his uniform jacket. “When she defeats the Council’s forces, she’ll be weakened, cousin. Vulnerable. And then you and I and my fleet will swoop in and vanquish the tyrannical hag.”

His hands landed on your knees and slowly slid upward.

It took everything in you not to cringe. “And…we’ll rule together?”

“Of course.” His eyes burned. “The people already love you, their Princess in the Tower. They sing songs about you in the taverns. And I’m the War Hero who fought off a Tyranid invasion!” His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. “Who would stand against us?”

No one. Until it was too late.

Fighting back waves of revulsion, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. How frail it felt compared to your betrothed’s! You watched your cousin’s face twist with lust.

Forgive me, Roboute.

You kissed Victor.

He snarled into your mouth, his teeth catching your lips and drawing blood. His hands dug into your hair. You felt yourself slammed backward, your head knocking against the chair’s hard frame.

Your cousin took no care with your body. He pawed and tore, aggravating your bruises and cuts, without a thought for your pleasure. Nausea threatened to overwhelm you. You heard the fabric of your bodice rip.

“What the Void is this?!”

All of a sudden you were dragged from the chair and thrown to the floor. Victor stood above you, mad rage in his eyes. He jabbed a finger toward your shoulder.

The shoulder Roboute had sunk his teeth into on your last night together.

“You whore! You damned slut!” Victor’s boot met your ribs with a crack.

You folded in on yourself, arms wrapping about your head.

“You spread your legs for that… freak?!” Your cousin straddled you, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking your head back. “You think I’d let you rule beside me? A stupid little scrap of used flesh like you?”

He pressed his mouth close to your ear. “I don’t need a consort. I just need a working womb. Remember that, bitch.”

With a final curse, he slammed your head against the carpeted floor and stalked out of the room. You heard the door lock behind him.

For a long while you lay there, letting the pain ricochet around your body before finally fading into a dull throb. You knew how to take a beating. Light knew, you’d taken more than your fair share.

Your split lips stretched in a smile as you gazed down at the gold and sapphire ring in the palm of your hand.

Pray the Light has mercy on your soul, Victor. For he will not.

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lovebeinaprincessworld · 1 month ago

Text

Hopeless Love (Cato Hadley x reader)

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Description: It was hard going back, this time with even lower chances of survival - but at least you could spent your last days with Cato.

Warnings: p in v, no protection, oral (f receiving), fingering, rough sex, dominant Cato, possessive Cato, talk of death, slight breeding k!nk

11454 words

You were waiting in the same room you were in the first time around, and any minute your family should’ve come in to say goodbye - but they didn’t. The only people who came in were the peacekeepers to get you to go to the train. “Wait, I didn’t get to say goodbye yet!”, you called, but they roughly shoved you forward and you guessed that was it. You’d never see your family again, and because Snow hated you all so much, you didn’t even get to say goodbye one last time.

On the train you were a bit out of it, staring out the window and Cecilia - now yours and Woofs mentor, which was probably so weird for him and her - gave you some space and your fellow tribute Woof was somewhere else in the train. Suddenly she interrupted your melancholic mood, and looked a bit pitiful: “The reaping from 2 is just up.”

Your heart plummeted, and from her facial expression you already knew that your biggest fear came true. You still turned on the screen and saw Cato and the other victors of District 2 stand on the stage. There were lots more victors than in most of the districts and as soon as the male tribute got picked, Catos hand shot up and he was calling out: “I volunteer as Tribute!”

You couldn’t watch the rest, watch how he left the stage and walked towards his death basically. You stood up and went into your room, feeling Cecilia’s sad eyes on your back. Once the door was closed, you let your tears fall for the first time since you left the stage. You knew he did it for you, did it because he loved you, but still - he just volunteered to die with you, and you were feeling so guilty for it, and so angry with him for being so stubborn.

——————

The hustle and bustle before the parade was so different than the last time, when everyone kept to themselves and was rather shy. This time most of the Tributes had known each other for years and they were mingling and chatting when you stepped into the Hall. You spotted Katniss stroking her horse, and excused yourself from Woof and Cecilia to do some mingling of your own - Cato wasn’t here yet after all, and you still couldn’t decide how to handle that situation.

Katniss saw you coming and gave you a small genuine smile, and you couldn’t help yourself, you gave her hug even though you knew she was a bit awkward with all that. “Hey, it’s good to see you”, you smiled, and she nodded. “It’s weird isn’t it”, she said, looking around the premises and you had to agree. “Yeah, I feel a bit like an outsider”, you hummed, also stroking the mane of her horse, when suddenly you were interrupted by a Tribute with very little clothing, Finnick Odair - District 4.

“Katniss, (Y/N)”, he greeted you with a grin. “Hello Finnick”, you smiled, despite Katniss grumpy face. “Do you want a sugar cube? I mean it’s supposed to be for the horses, but…I mean who cares about them right, they’ve got years to eat sugar, whereas us three…well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it”, he smirked, giving you a wink, and throwing the sugar cube into his mouth.

“No thanks, but I would love to borrow that outfit someday”, Katniss sassily replied, and you giggled. “You look pretty terrifying in that dress up. What happened to the pretty little girl dresses?”, he joked, and Katniss had a clever answer ready: “I outgrew them.” “You certainly did”, he was still grinning, but it felt a bit more fake than before.

“Shame about this Quell thing, now you…you could’ve made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted”, he was speaking seductively, and you could tell after only a few minutes of taking to him, that it was a facade. “Well, I don’t like jewels, and I’ve got more money than I need, so…what did you do with all your wealth anyway?”, Katniss asked and gave Finnick a look.

“I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money for years”, he said ominously. “Well, then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?”, Katniss was being sarcastic and you smiled. Finnick got a bit more serious, stepped closer and said lowly: “With secrets. What about you Girl on Fire? Any secrets worth my time?”, he smirked, and Katniss retaliated: “I’m an open book. Everyone always seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.”

“Unfortunately I think that’s true”, he answered, seeing Peeta walk closer and switching topics, “I’m sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you.” He bit down on one more of his sugar cubes, and bid his goodbyes with: “Have a good day.” Then his eyes moved to something behind you, and he grinned to himself before gently pushing some hair back behind your ear that fell out of your updo. “It was lovely to meet you (Y/N). You look dashing in that dress.”

You were confused when he gave you a wink, until you suddenly felt two large hands on your hips, and looked up to see Catos angry stare following Finnick back to his carriage. “What did he want?”, he asked you, and you noticed Peeta was next to Katniss too, but not nearly as possessive as Cato. “Is this how you greet me now?”, you were a bit pissed at him - first of all for even volunteering at all, and it irritated you that he was so possessive now. Most of the time you liked it, but when you were angry with him anyway, it didn’t help things.

He looked a bit surprised at your anger, before turning you around and pulling you into a firm hug. “You know I did it for you”, he started, quietly talking into your ear, Katniss and Peeta occupied by their own conversation. But his sentence made the guilt only flare up even more and consequently your anger at him for volunteering and at yourself (for who knows what, maybe for allowing him to fall for you). “Shut up, I don’t want to talk about that right now”, you mumbled, pushing your face further into his chest, not being able to resist his closeness even if you were mad. Plus you knew if you talked about it now, you would probably start crying. This wasn’t the right time.

———————

You didn’t want to face Cato again after the Parade, and you didn’t even know why. You knew he only meant well, and he loved you and wanted to protect you and all that, but now you’re back to square one, even worse probably, you wouldn’t make it out together again - hell the Capitol wouldn’t let any of you win with the rebellious mood in the Districts, not Cato, Katniss, Peeta or you, they’d be stupid to. So now you were both going to die.

You just couldn’t face him, you had to deal with your emotions alone, at least tonight. You knew he’d never want you to feel guilty, but you did anyways. You rushed towards the elevator as soon as your carriage stopped, stepping inside and Katniss and Peeta joined you with Haymitch. You didn’t look out of the elevator, but Katniss nudged you slightly as a warning (considering Peeta also volunteered for her, she probably knew how you felt even if she wasn’t showing it so outwardly) and Cato stepped inside too.

He didn’t seem to accept the distance you put between the two of you, and just pushed himself behind you, pulling your back into his chest and hugging you to him. He didn’t press a floor button, so you guessed he’d ride to your floor with you, before going back down.

You didn’t fight his embrace, didn’t want to cause a scene and also no matter if you felt guilty, you still loved him and wanted to be close to him, and you had missed him so much. You just wished you could push your feelings aside and just enjoy being with him for now - but you couldn’t blend out everything that was going to happen.

Before the doors could fully close, Johanna Mason stopped the door and stepped in - District 7 if you remembered correctly. “You guys look amazing”, she said annoyed, turning around with her back to you and taking stuff out of her hair. “Thanks”, Katniss said, looking annoyed by her presence. “My stylist is such an idiot”, Johanna starts to complain, “District 7, Lumber, trees, ugh. I’d love to put my axe in her face.”

You were a bit shocked by her krass language, and you were even more shocked when she continued shedding her accessories and her clothes. “Now, what do you think, now that the whole world wants to sleep with you?”, she grinned, and Katniss scoffed. “I don’t think that-“, but Johanna interrupted her and turned around. “I wasn’t talking to you”, she smirked provokingly, making Katniss roll her eyes and you immediately wondered what had happened to Johanna, that made her this prickly.

“Unzip me?”, she asked Peeta, and you saw Katniss was definitely bothered by her, grinding her teeth together in annoyance, and you were glad she left you and Cato alone - not that you thought Cato would ever agree to unzip her dress. Peeta on the other side, was too polite for his own good, actually unzipping her and then she was naked in front of you all.

You were shocked to say the least, Katniss next to you stiffening too and you reluctantly looked upwards to see if Cato was looking at her - she had an awesome body, and even Peeta took a quick glance before looking away (Haymitch didn’t bother, he seemed to enjoy the show). But when you looked up, you met his eyes right away, and you blushed and looked down again. Of course he wouldn’t look, he’d only looked at you. He reassuringly squeezed your waist and your feelings of guilt and sadness and anger started to fade a bit.

“Thanks”, Johanna said when you stopped at her floor and left the elevator, “Let’s do it again sometime!” “Thank you”, Haymitch chuckled and you just knew Katniss wanted to punch him. Next was your floor and reality hit again - Cato wouldn’t be getting off with you, because you were regular tributes again, not victors sharing a floor. So you just pulled yourself out of his embrace and left with a quick “I’ll see you all tomorrow!” You could feel his stare on your back, but you just couldn’t face him.

The silence in the elevator was loud as it was going up to floor 12, and Katniss took pity on the tall victor next to her. “You know she feels guilty right”, she said and Catos head snapped towards her, a bit confused. “Guilty?”, he wanted to know what she meant, wanted to know how to make things between you right again even though he didn’t really know what went wrong. He thought you might be a bit angry, but not like this.

“Yeah, she feels like she’s the reason why you’re going to die, because she got reaped and you volunteered for her”, she stated and then glanced towards Peeta who just stared at the wall and Haymitch who stared at the ceiling. “Or at least that’s what I think she feels”, she added, and Cato realized she was probably right - and sensed that Katniss was feeling similar about Peeta.

When they left the elevator on the twelfth floor, he pressed the button for two and called after her: “Thanks Everdeen!” Katniss just nodded over her shoulder before the doors closed again. Cato rubbed a hand over his face and slumped against the wall. He really hoped you’d meet him on the roof tonight, just like last time, just so he could fix this.

————————

Cato was waiting on the roof, and he had been waiting or the last two hours - his hope that you were actually coming up was dwindling by the second. He knew you felt bad and stuff, but how was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him? This was one of the last few nights you’d probably ever get to spend together and you’d rather stay in your room? Eventhough he got where you were coming from, he was also growing a bit angry.

He did it for you after all, after he saw the reaping in District eight, he couldn’t just let you walk into the arena alone. He knew you’d both probably die this time, no way were you gonna make it out again, but if it meant spending at least a bit more time with you, he’d gladly sacrifice his life for that. There was nothing left in District 2 for him anyway, his grandfather had died a few months back, and he was the last of his family - so to live in a world where even you were gone, wasn’t an option.

He had to make you understand that, you couldn’t go into the arena like this, he needed you. So he got up with newly invoked fervor, a plan forming in his mind how he would sneak into your room - he wasn’t stupid, he new if the people responsible here didn’t want him to sneak in, he wouldn’t be able to, he just hoped they would let him.

You on the other hand laid in your bed crying in that moment. It was just too much. The guilt of him volunteering for you, and now the guilt of him probably waiting for you but you being too cowardly to meet him, and talk to him about it, it just overwhelmed you. You were clutching the comforter to your chest, tears silently running down your face and your head simultaneously running wild with thoughts and being completely empty, when you heard it.

It was already late, so it was weird that someone was walking around near your door, that had never happened before, but before you could react, your door opened and someone slipped inside. You held back a scream, when you recognized the familiar shadow, and just stayed silent when he turned on the bedside lamp.

He looked a bit angry, probably because you left him waiting up there (and you briefly wondered how he was even able to sneak in), but when he took one look at your tear stricken face, your eyes meeting with all those emotions in them his face softened and sat down next to you, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his arms.

That’s broke all your walls and you were just sobbing into his chest, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you together, and he probably was. It felt like hours passed with Cato comforting you quietly, stroking your back whispering sweet words into your ear, when you finally calmed down.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, tears still staining your face, but the flow had stopped, “this is all my fault.” “Hey”, Catos voice was gentle but insistent, “Don’t say that, do you hear me, none of this is anyone’s fault but Snows.” You were exhausted from all that crying: “But if I wouldn’t have been reaped we wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t have to go into the arena again - better yet, if I wouldn’t have been reaped in the first games, or just wouldn’t have made it out, you would’ve won and would probably be living happily now, not dying because of me.”

Cato was silent for a moment, and then suddenly turned you both around so that he was pinning you to the bed with his body, his hips wedged between your legs and his eyes had an anger in them that almost made you wince. “(Y/N) I never want to hear you say that again. You really think it would’ve been better if we never met? If you fucking died? That’s bullshit and you know it. My life wouldn’t be worth living if you weren’t in it. That’s why I volunteered. I love you, and I’d rather spent a few more days with you, protect you as good as I can, than see you die on screen and live the next 50 years in misery, missing you. You know that, you know how much I love you, so can we please, please get over this and just enjoy the time we have together now?”

He seemed to have talked all his anger out, only gazing down at you softly now with a hint of desperation. “Please?”, he gently brushed some hair from your forehead, grabbing your cheek and waiting for your answer. Looking into his eyes like that, hearing him say how much he loved you again and again, it made you realize how stupid you were being. You didn’t want him to die - but he was also an adult making his own decisions, and you weren’t responsible for those.

Suddenly the answer came to you easily, and you were also just so exhausted.

“Yeah”, you whispered, “yeah, let’s just…just kiss me, please.” He didn’t waste any time, capturing your lips in a long awaited kiss, and immediately you felt at home again. You couldn’t believe how stupid you were to avoid him, you should’ve known he can erase your insecurities and doubts in a heartbeat, like he always could.

His grip on your jaw pulls you in closer, his tongue gently tracing your lower lip and slowly slipping into your mouth to meet yours, making the butterflies go crazy - but in that moment you also realized that there was something deeper, something that felt like your relationship was on another level, more devoted and serious. You knew it before, but it hit close to home in that moment, that Cato was the one for you - you would’ve wanted everything with him, marriage, kids, a home. But Snow was going to take that from you.

————————

When you stepped into the training gym the next morning, Woof immediately went off to find his old friend, while you didn’t see Cato yet and decided to go over to Katniss who seemed to be as lost as you felt. “Hey”, you smiled and leaned against the table with what seemed to be fishhooks on it. “Morning”, she sighed, clearly unhappy about something.

“Where’s the bad mood coming from? Something specific?”, you were curious, and she met your eyes and seemed to have a moment of enlightenment. “Would you…I mean Haymitch says we need to find allies, and since we already know each other”, she let the rest of the sentence hang in the air, and you giggled a bit, knowing she just was a bit socially awkward. “Of course! I think us four would make a good team right? This time from the beginning”, you agreed, kinda happy that you could present Cecilia with a win tonight at dinner.

She seemed a bit relieved too, nodding and smiling a bit. “Who else have you thought about? I think Mags is lovely, she seems very smart”, you said thoughtfully, it was just a gut feeling, but the way she volunteered for that young girl from her district, showed she’s got her priorities straight. “I actually met her earlier, and I agree, also thought about Wiress and Beetee - they’re very smart too”, she recounted what happened before you arrived.

“They showed me something”, she told you, her eyes quickly and without drawing attention to her, pointing towards the judges sitting up high and conversing while drinking. At first you were confused, trying to not stare to obviously while trying to figuring out what she meant, when you saw it. A tiny kinda blurry spot in midair. “What’s that?”, you wondered, turning back to her and she seemed to suppress a grin.

“It’s a force field”, she chuckled, “I shot an arrow at them last year, so that’s my fault I guess - well actually just at a pig at their table, but I guess it makes no difference.” The both of you had to laugh after her confession, and you were glad that even through all this horror you seemed to at least have made a friend. The thought of how long the friendship would last once the number of tributes in the arena would be dwindling, was pushed to the back of your mind.

Cato still wasn’t there, so the two of you stuck together and did a few stations, while talking more, until you arrived at what seemed to be a simulation that could be used to train with weapons, that the Careers used very impressively. But you knew who could be even more impressive. “You should have a go”, you elbowed Katniss towards the entrance and she seemed reluctant, but after a bit more encouragement, she gave in.

And just like you thought, she totally cleared every single target - the craziest part was, they were actually simulated attackers which seemed to be inspired by the other tributes. When she was done, you noticed how quiet the gym had gotten, and saw that every single tribute was standing there, looking at Katniss - which was well deserved after that performance.

“She’s impressive huh”, someone whispered in your ear, hugging you from behind and you almost had a heart attack. “Don’t scare me like that!”, you scolded him playfully, turning around and accepting the short kiss he pressed to your lips. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings, love”, he scolded you back, and you watched as the other tributes spread out across the gym again after the show was over.

“It’s weird to think about where we were last year at this time isn’t it”, you sighed, the thought suddenly crossing your mind, as you remembered how your relationship started. “Yeah, I definitely remember that asshole from your district trying to feel you up all the time”, he scowled, and you just giggled at his antics. “You’re an idiot”, you shook your head, planting another short kiss on his lips, and smoothing out the lines on his forehead. “Come on, we definitely need to use the time to work on your self defense”, he stated, pulling you along with him.

—————————

The next day at training, Cato was actually there first, but you had convinced him that you needed a break from his self defense training today - you were still sore from yesterday. So he reluctantly went off to train some more, while you were standing together with Mags who showed you how to make a fishhook. She was so sweet, and very helpful even though she couldn’t talk, encouraging you without words.

Suddenly though you felt a large hand on your hip, and at first you thought it was Cato, but the grip was a little too hard, and the feeling to unfamiliar. So you looked to your right, seeing Gloss standing there - the Career tribute from District 1 - with a creepy grin on his lips. You tried to pull away, but he just held on even tighter, your chest tightening in fear.

“You think you can win these games with some fishhooks sweetie? You’re even more innocent than I thought”, he smirked, and you tried again to push his hands away, panicking when he just pinned you against the table with his other hand. “Let me go”, you tried to keep your voice steady, but the slight tremor in it betrayed you. You threw a desperate glance towards Mags, who was suddenly gone, and no peacekeeper seemed to pay attention to you either. Oh no.

“Don’t be like that, mhm”, he looked at you like he tried to see right through your clothes, a shiver of disgust running through you, “you spread your legs for one Career already didn’t you, why not for another? I could show you a good time.” You kept trying to wind yourself out of his grip, thinking about screaming for help, but you hated causing a scene and you were a bit overwhelmed by this.

“It’s not like that”, you mumbled, looking away and he just chuckled. “No? You didnt let him touch you then? Maybe you’re right, you’re such a young naive girl, sweet and pretty, such a shame we’re heading for the arena.” You kept glaring at him, trying to catch the gaze of a peacekeeper, but considering you couldn’t even see their eyes, this was hard.

Mags didn’t just leave you alone of course, but she knew there wasn’t a lot she could do to help you, so she hurried off to find Cato. He was currently training with his swords, talking to Peeta a bit, who he had shown a few things to, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around quickly, confused who’d interrupt him, and was even more confused when he saw the old lady from District 4.

“Do you need something?”, he tried to be polite, knowing you liked her and would want him to be. He knew she couldn’t talk, but when she started gesturing towards something, and he saw you being grabbed by Gloss, he knew why she came to him anyway. He immediately started stalking over there, his face dark and the panicked look on your face was stoking the anger boiling in his chest. What did that fucker think he was doing?

“…such a young naive girl, sweet and pretty, such a shame we’re heading for the arena”, was what Cato could hear as he got closer and he saw red. He didn’t even want to imagine what else that scumbag told you before, so once he was within reach, Cato ripped him away from you and had him face down on the floor in seconds, pinning him by his neck and kneeling on his upper body. Gloss was a pretty impressive Career, but he was also older and shorter than Cato.

“Yeah? Maybe you’re too old for this, shouldn’t spew such bullshit if you can’t deal with the outcome grandpa”, Cato hissed, and Gloss just groaned when Cato put even more weight into his hold, “I’ll fucking kill you, first chance that I get asshole.” And with that he let the Tribute go, holding his hands up in a peaceful manner when the Peacekeepers came to pull him off, and turned to you to pull you away from the scene.

He pulled you into an empty little nook close to the unoccupied climbing station, that you couldn’t see into from outside, and held you close for a minute, allowing himself to quench his anger and you to calm down a bit. “What a fucking asshole, who does he think he is taking to you like that”, Cato grumbled, mostly to himself while stroking your hair, knowing you were upset about it. “Thanks for saving me - again I guess, lost count of all the other times”, you chuckled a bit, and he just held you closer.

“I shouldn’t have left your side, hope he fucking learned his lesson now”, Cato wanted so badly to go back and make sure he understood to stay away, but he knew he’d get in trouble, so he tried to make do with the thought he’d be able to kill him soon. You seemed to know what he was thinking, because you distracted him with a gentle kiss, trying to eradicate the feeling of the other man touching you - the soft grip Cato had on you comforting you now, a stark contrast to before.

———————

You were just changing into your pajamas, looking for some underwear in the drawers of the closet in your room, when you came across something interesting. You were used to wearing pretty basic underwear in you district, and also here in the training center, it was just what you knew and what was practical. You knew your mother had some nicer nightgowns, she once told you they were from her wedding night (which you only really understood as you got older), but they were nothing like what you had found.

The underwear that someone must’ve put in your drawer probably did serve the same purpose, which you roughly guessed was to look more enticing to your partner, but they had significantly less fabric, and looked almost sinful. Where you would normally wear a plain cotton bra, this one was adorned with lace and some pearls, delicately sewn onto the fabric, and you could only admire that handiwork as a fellow seamstress. It was beautiful.

The panties however, were pretty much nonexistent, the front displaying the same lace and pearls as the top, but the back was only a small sliver of fabric, which would leave nothing to imagination. Actually you were sure no part of this matching set left a lot to imagination. You were blushing even thinking about putting it on, not to mention Cato seeing you in this. You briefly wondered if someone put it there on purpose, but when you checked the time, you saw that you were running late meeting him on the rooftop, so you had to decide what to do with it now.

You stared at it for a few moments were it was laying on your bed, and after taking a deep breath you decided - fuck it. You were going to die in that arena, so why not be a bit brave and put it on to feel pretty, and for him to take it off of you. You were blushing already, but the thought also made you excited. So you quickly slipped it on, putting on your pajama pants and shirt on top, before taking a blanket and sneaking out onto the roof.

Your blood was rushing in you ears, and your cheeks were bright red, and when you stepped onto the roof and rounded the corner, Cato was already there and could immediately tell something was up. He brought a blanket too, so when he saw you had one as well, he put his on the ground so you could sit on it, and pulled you into his lap as soon as you were in reach, before spreading your blanket over the two of you.

“You okay? Did something happen?”, he inquired once you were in his arms comfortably, and suddenly all that bravery from earlier when you put the underwear on, had vanished. Damn it. “Nothing”, you tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly, and trained Career that he was, Cato picked up on it right away.

“Okay now you’re worrying me, what’s wrong love?”, he looked at you with furrowed brows and you bit your lip trying to build up the courage to show him, trying to tell yourself he’s not gonna think it’s silly. Which it kind of felt now, but there was no going back. “There’s something I found in…in the closet in my room”, you reluctantly started, turning around in his arms and sitting on your knees in front of him now, between his bent legs, and you were holding onto his knees for support - mostly moral.

“Okay?”, Cato was curious now, quirking one eyebrow. He could see you were nervous the moment you rounded the corner, all blushed and fidgety, and he really wanted to know what it was you found now. “Did you bring it?”, he asked further when you didn’t elaborate, and you seemed to blush even more, and he couldn’t help but smile at how pretty you looked.

“Kind off, yeah”, you stuttered, and he was only more confused now, where was it then? But you seemed to gather your courage after all, and what you showed him was not at all what he expected. You took you pajama shirt off, and under it was a basically fucking see through lace bra. His brain stopped working for a minute, totally caught off guard by that move, the gears only starting to turn again when you tried to cover yourself, because you were growing more and more nervous, and he caught your hands to stop you.

“Fuck, is that what you found hm?”, Catos voice was raspy, lower than normal, because he couldn’t wrap his head around how you put that on for him. Just him. He knew stuff like lingerie from District 2 of course, they were equipped with luxuries like that a lot better than your District, but the thought of you finding this, being confused at first, and then coming to the conclusion that you wanted to wear it for him, had him hard in seconds.

You on the other hand were growing hot under his predatory gaze. He always watched you in that possessive way whenever you two got intimate, but never before had he looked at you like this - like he wanted to do unspeakable things to you, all dark and handsome. “You put that on just for me, did you? Fuck you’re so perfect”, he growled pulling you closer and then immediately manhandling you down onto the blanket, trapping you underneath him. God, he was so intense, you were growing wet already.

“Just for you”, you whispered, still a bit shy, your hands softly moving over his arms, and holding onto his shoulders, the muscles moving underneath your touch, his hips grinding the bulge in his pants against your clothed core, the tough friction making you whimper a bit. His eyes were still glued to your boobs, his finger delicately stroking the lace, cupping them before pulling the cups down, and revealing your nipples to him.

You sucked in a harsh breath when he pulled your right nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, sucking on it, while his other hand gave attention to your other nipple, gently rolling it between his fingers, the tingling sensation moving all over your body, right to your pulsing core, where he was still grinding into you.

He pulled back suddenly, looking down at you with a smirk that made the parties stick to your folds, and his fingers teased the waistband of your pants. “Are you wearing the matching panties?”, he grinned, and you blushed again, your cheeks hot under his gaze, and just shyly nodded. He bent down his mouth brushing your ear. “Good girl”, he hummed, suddenly pulling down your pants and throwing them somewhere, pausing to take you in for a moment.

Cato looked down on you, your tits spilling out of the cups, still glistening from his mouth and pretty nipples all perky. You were telling the truth, the matching panties - more like a thong - were clinging to your soaked pussy, and you looked like a fucking goddess. And you were all his. He quickly shed his shirt, propping himself above you once more and completely taking off your bra, his lips finding yours in a short but passionate kiss, before he descended until his head was right in front of your soaked panties. You were so perfect.

Catos tongue started moving over your panties, and you were stunned by how sinful the sight was, and by how good it felt. He pressed the lace against your clit slightly, moving it around, and the resulting sensation had you moaning his name. His fingers were gliding underneath your panties, pushing them aside a bit and then pushing into you easily, you were so wet already he could’ve fucked you right away, but he wanted to take his time.

He knew your body like the back of his hand by now, curling his fingers just right, his tongue still moving over your clit and bringing you closer and closer towards your first orgasm, and then he suddenly pulled his fingers out, ripped the panties right off of you, and sucked your now bare clit into his mouth with such vigor, that you came on the spot.

Cato was painfully hard and his grip on his patience was slipping, so when your legs tightened around his head, your moans echoing into the night, he was already pushing down his pants and boxers while continuing to eat you out through your orgasm. Once you were coming down, twitching away from him sensitively, he let up, pulling himself up and above you.

“Fuck I love you so much, you have no idea”, he groaned, his heart almost beating out of his chest when he looked down at you, and he leaned down to capture your slightly swollen lips in a soft kiss, his cock sliding between your folds, making you both moan into the kiss. “I love you, Cato, please”, you whimpered, “I need you.”

That was all it took to throw over his self control, amd he positioned himself at your entrance, before pushing in, the stretch burning so good, your pussy pulsing to accommodate his size. When he bottomed out, the head of his leaking cock pressing against your cervix slightly, he pulled back without giving you a moment, a gasp leaving your mouth when he started thrusting firmly, grazing that spongey spot inside of you with every move.

“Cato”, you breathlessly moaned, and he buried his head in your neck, groaning at the feeling of you clenching, sucking him in even deeper, and his thrusts became a bit harsher, making you hold onto his back, the muscles all flexed and tight. When he changed his angle, his pelvis was lightly grazing you clit with every other thrust, pushing you closer to the edge with every movement, and he could tell, by the pleasured expression on your face, that you were close.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum for me hm?”, he hummed in your ear, a precise thrust making you whimper and nod in desperation. “God you’re so perfect, I’m almost there, gonna fill you up so good”, his mouth was a bit looser than normal, your little show with the lingerie making him hornier than usual, but by how much you were clenching around him, he knew you liked it.

“You like that don’t you? Fuck, in another life I would’ve gotten you pregnant some day, would’ve given it all to you”, he growled, the thought suddenly so emotional, that it pushed him to the edge, and it seemingly did the same to you, because you shattered around him, moaning his name, and he followed right after you, pushing into you a few more times, before cumming inside of you with a deep groan, holding onto your thighs firmly.

You were both catching your breath for a minute, when he gently pulled out of you, watching as his cum leaked out of you slowly, but he pushed it back into your swollen pussy, a whimper leaving your mouth when he touched the sensitive area. He laid down next to you with a smirk, closing your legs firmly, before pulling you closer and covering you with the second blanket. “Keep me inside won’t you”, he hummed possessively, grinning a bit when you blushed at his naughty words, but pressing your legs together all the same.

“You know”, you started after a while of you two just cuddling in silence, “I would’ve wanted that someday. If we ever had the chance I mean. A family.” He looked down at you, the both of you a bit melancholic at the thought of what could’ve been, if it wasn’t for Panem - if it wasn’t for Snow. “I love you”, he kissed you gently, just focusing on having you here with him in that moment, soaking in the way it made him feel impossibly happy. “I love you”, you whispered back, kissing his cheek, and interlacing your fingers with his, holding onto this moment.

————————

It was the last day of training before the individual sessions would be held and Cato was as always very clingy - especially after the incident with Gloss. “I’ll just go over to the fire station, you’ll have a clear view of me don’t worry”, you tried to convince him he didn’t have to interrupt his training just to come with you, squeezing his hand calmly, but he looked unconvinced. “Cato”, you scolded a bit, seeing as he was about to open his mouth to tell you he’d come with you, and he shut it again. “Alright”, he grumbled and you smiled before giving him a kiss and bounding off towards the fire station, wanting to refine your skills a bit more - Cato was the muscles out of the two of you, and even though you were pretty swift and bendy, you wanted to level up your survival skills.

Finnick saw this as an opportunity to make a move - in a tactical way of course. He knew Katniss and you liked Mags, the problem was the both of you liked him not so much. Or more like Katniss didn’t trust him, and you didn’t know him enough to actually judge him. He knew if he wanted to secure an alliance in the arena, you were the link of their group that would be most likely to stop Katniss from killing him, so he needed to make a good impression, which wasn’t so easy with Cato being around you all the time.

You were a bit startled when the Tribute from District 4 sat down next to the fire you just managed to start. “Finnick”, you smiled politely. You were always good at reading people, and you had noticed from the first word he spoke back when you met him that he wasn’t actually all cocky and cheeky - what he actually was like you didn’t know though.

“Nice fire you got going there”, he acknowledged it with a nod and you thanked him. “Katniss taught me last year. What brings you here?”, you asked, wanting to know what he wanted before Cato noticed him and interrupted you two. “Mags tells me you picked up on making a fish hook pretty quickly too, she likes you”, he ignored the question, making you cock your head slightly.

“I like her too”, you decided to play his game for now, “It was very brave of her to volunteer for that young girl from your District.” And that got a reaction, one you thought it might get - Finnicks mask slipped slightly. “Annie, right?”, you softly inquired - it seemed like speaking her name kinda made him sink into himself a bit, and you realized your hunch was right. You had seen it in the way he looked at her during their reaping.

Finnick was caught off guard, he underestimated you a bit, thinking of you as the slightly innocent and oblivious girl, but you seemed to keep your talents on the low - nobody has ever read him so fast, and he was impressed. “You love her”, you smiled, but not in an evil way, like you just had gained information you could use against him, no in a touched and pure way, like you just thought it was sweet and nothing else.

“Yeah, I do”, he said, it seemed like the thought of Annie made him a bit melancholic and you were glad he had come to talk, happy to see behind his mask for just a moment. “I’m sorry you had to leave her behind”, you said, your smile turning a bit sad when you squeezed his biceps in comfort. “I’m sorry you have your love here with you”, he gave you the same sad smile, and you understood what he meant - it was sad to leave his love behind, but he was still glad she wasn’t here with him.

You held his gaze for another moment, before he suddenly looked behind you, grimacing. “I’ll get going before your Career kills me before we even get to the arena”, he grinned, his cockiness back and the moment gone, and you just shook your head with a grin. “I’ll see you”, you waved when he moved, and a moment later you were scooped up by the waist, piled into a familiar strong chest, and you rolled your eyes.

“What was that?”, Cato sounded on edge, and you had to admit possessive Cato never got old. “Nothing”, you smiled, turning in his arms and the way his big hand gripped your waist made your panties stick to your folds almost immediately. You were feeling a bit naughty, thinking about how you could mess with him a bit, maybe he’d be a bit rougher with you later tonight. “What were you doing touching his arm like that then?”, Cato scowled, and you knew he didn’t actually think you were flirting with Finnick, it was just the fear of losing you combined with his already protective nature - he trusted you fully. You smiled innocently, a plan forming in your mind.

“He just wanted to me to feel his muscles to see if he was ready for the arena, that’s it”, you explained, acting as if that was completely normal, and as you anticipated, Catos gaze darkened significantly. “I’ll kill him”, Cato exclaimed, trying to march away from you and to wherever Finnick disappeared to, but you stopped him with a laugh. “You didn’t honestly believe that did you? I’m just messing with you baby”, you giggled, and he cocked one brow.

He looked at you for a moment, observing the way you blushed under his gaze, and leaned down. “You’re a bit naughty today are you? I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, you’re too pretty, attracting so much attention - and then you go and touch him”, his voice was raspy when he lowly whispered in your ear, leaving goosebumps everywhere. “Doesn’t matter why”, he shut you up when you wanted to protest that the touching wasn’t flirty or anything, “I think I still need to make sure you know you should only touch me hm?”

He noticed the way you squeezed your thighs together immediately, a smug grin on his face and determination in his gaze. “Come one”, he exclaimed, pulling you along to the elevator, and considering training was over anyway, that didn’t attract too much attention.

You were suprised that no one stopped him when he stepped onto your districts floor with you - in retrospect you figured someone was watching you all the time, so that must mean they let you two do this. “Cato”, you tried talking to him once the door to your room shut behind you but he just interrupted you with a rough kiss.

You were a bit shocked, especially when he made quick work of you your clothes, leaving you bare infront of him - well except for you panties, and the dangerous glint in his eyes made the wet patch on them grow. You were reaching for him, wanting to touch him and undress him too, but he caught your wrist in his big hand, easily holding it where he wanted.

“You don’t get to touch baby”, he smirked, suddenly turning you around and bending you over the bed, his still clothed rock hard erection pressing against your thinly covered pussy, and your head turned to the side, looking at him over your shoulder. “Cato”, you whined, but he just chuckled and started grinding into you, bending down and gently kissing your cheek, before claiming your lips in a passionate kiss again, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling a bit - not enough to hurt but just right to get you even more excited.

He pulled back and stood up straight again, admiring his perfect girl in front of him, and quickly shed his shirt and pants before letting his hands run up and down your back a few times. You held your breath in anticipation of what he would do next, kinda really enjoying this even more dominate side of him, and when he finally pulled your panties to the side and his fingers found you all dripping, the groan he released made you bite your lip to stop an embarrassing whine from coming out.

“Fuck love, is that all for me?”, he grumbled, then bent down a bit and growled, “or for Odair?” And then he slid two fingers in to the knuckle making you moan out in suprise, clenching the covers in your fists. He didn’t let you catch your breath, instead immediately setting a fast pace, curling his fingers into that spongey spot inside you and totally overwhelming your senses. “You! For you Cato, please”, you whimpered, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to keep going.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to take of you even if you’re misbehaving”, your eyes were clenched shut, but you could still hear the grin in his voice. He added his thumb to circle your clit, making you see stars and rapidly approaching your high, but just as you reached the edge, he pulled back and left you hanging.

“Cato”, you pouted at him over your shoulder, and he seemed pretty satisfied with himself. “You’ll only cum on my cock today, I need to make sure you understand you’re mine”, he smirked, lining himself up with you and then only pushing his head in, teasing you a bit, “need to make sure you’ll cum with my cock deep inside you, feeling it’s only me who can make you feel like this.” You were so fucked out, you heard him but couldn’t answer, instead just clenching around his tip, making him groan and push all the way in - fuck you’ve never done it from behind before, but his angle felt like he was deeper than ever before.

“Cato”, you moaned when he picked up the pace right away, thoroughly fucking you, his hips slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Fuck you’re so tight”, he groaned, molding himself to your back while continuing his assault on your poor pussy - not that you were complaining. You weren’t sure if you talking to Finnick actually bothered him, or if it was just all the stress combined, but damn were you glad this was the way he chose to handle it.

Contrary to his rough thrusts, he laid his hand on top of one of yours, sliding his digits between yours, while balancing himself on his other arm as not to crush you with all of his weight. “I love you so much, I hope you know that”, he hummed into your ear, and even though he simultaneously brought you closer and closer to the edge, you couldn’t help but smile - even when he was being rough, he was still a softie inside (at least for you).

“Love you too”, you mumbled, squeezing his hand and gasping when that made him pick up speed, a small move changing the angle so that he was drilling into the right spot, and because he fucked you with your panties on, they were conveniently rubbing your clit with every move of his hips. “C-Cato”, you stuttered, suddenly very close to reaching your high, you walls already clenching around him in anticipation and he buried his face in your hair with a moan.

“It’s alright come for me, I’m close too”, he grunted, his thrusts getting slightly more sloppy but never losing power, and then you were cumming all over his cock, the angle letting you feel him so deep, that your vision went white for a second, and your walls squeezed him so tight, he pushed as close a he could with a moan, his dick twitching inside you as he filled you up.

You two stayed like that for a minute, fingers still tangled, his front still covering you and his cock still inside. He seemed to go lax though, so he started crushing you a bit and while you loved having him close, you also liked to breathe. “Cato”, you mumbled, wiggling a bit but he just released a content hum, not moving an inch. “You’re crushing me”, you complained, but not being able to hold back your giggle, squeezing his hand.

“Sorry love”, he whispered, his mood suddenly totally relaxed, as if he really got all the stress and frustration out of his system. He gently pulled out, quickly pulling your panties back in place, so that his cum couldn’t leak out, and looking over your shoulder you could see he was smiling like he just accomplished something. You could only roll your eyes (even though you secretly thought it was hot).

Before you could attempt to move on your own, he carefully picked you up, holding you infront of him, before pulling back the covers and situating the both of you underneath. When he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you, making you feel safe. “You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”, he asked, pushing some hair behind your ear and you smiled at him. “I’m good, that was great”, you sighed, pushing your face into his neck. “I hope you know that there was no reason to actually be jealous though”, you added, your hand painting little pattern on his chest, making him kiss your head with a smile.

“I know”, he admitted, “doesn’t mean I like seeing that pretty boy close and personal with you.” You giggled, leaning up a bit and kissing his jaw fondly. You loved the sex with him, but you loved these cuddly, intimate moments with him after even more. “You wanna know what we were talking about?”, you started, the hand on your hip squeezing lightly to signal you to continue, “he was telling me about that girl he loves, back in his district.”

“Girl?”, Cato was curious, and you weren’t suprised he had no idea, his skills in the combat department were off the charts, but his observance when it came to people, was pretty bad. “The one Mags volunteered for”, you explained, and he just gave a thoughtful hum, kissing your temple, and pulling you even closer. “That makes me hate him a little less”, Cato smirked, and you just accepted that with sigh.

—————————

You and Cato were laying on the rooftop together, exhausted but happy to spent some time with each other. You finished the individual sessions today, Cato excelling his last score with 11 and you holding your 7 steady. “I’m still wondering what Katniss and Peeta did to get that 12, that’s insane”, Cato wondered out loud, and you were nodding, the way everyone around the screen gasped still fresh in your memories.

“I don’t think it had anything to do with their actual skills, knowing Katniss she probably did something to provoke them. I should ask her about it tomorrow”, you shared your thoughts, and considering she told you she shot an arrow at the gamemakers last year, you probably weren’t far off. “But Peeta? He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to outright provoke the Capitol like Katniss would”, he said, his hand on your back absentmindedly drawing circles on your back and you sighed in bliss, cuddling even closer into his chest.

“No not outright, but he knows how to get a rise out of people without actively attacking you know”, you mused, and Cato hummed in thought. You two laid there under the stars, in one of the last nights you had to yourselves, but you stopped these negative thoughts. You just tried to live in the present.

“We should do something passive aggressive when we have the interviews tomorrow you know”, Cato said after a while, making you raise you brows in suprise. He was right of course, but you hadn’t thought that far yet, trying to block out the looming threat of being on live television again. “What do you have in mind?”, you wondered, and he was silent for a few moments.

“Has to be something that riles up the people you know, even the Capitol jerks have to be angry we’re gonna be send back in there”, he started, and you realized he had been thinking about this for a while already. “Yeah, you’re right, maybe something that makes them feel like they’ve been left out of the love story, something that makes it even more tragic”, you agreed, raking your brain for a suitable idea. It was quiet for a few minutes while you two thought about it, when suddenly Cato stunned you with his idea.

“Marry me”, he whispered, and you went rigid in his arms, sitting up in shock and looking down at the tall career. “What?”, you asked, louder than necessary and he sat up too, his hand on your waist immediately, the other cradling your jaw.

“Think about it, if we told them we got married in secret, like if we had to face death anyway, we want to be together forever after we die or something, you know - that makes them feel left out, they didn’t get to see our wedding or whatever, we can tell them it was just us, on a quiet evening, that combined with the tragedy of me volunteering to die with you, might actually make them really upset”, he explained his idea, and you had to admit he was right.

Your finger gently ran over his jaw, down his neck and settled on his chest, giving you time to think, before you finally nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it, I wanna make them as upset as possible”, you agreed, and the thought of ‘marrying’ him even if it wasn’t real real, made your cheeks redden. ��Okay, okay, I’ll wake Brutus up when I go back down and ask him if he can organize rings before the interview, to make it more believable”, he replied, his thumb brushing your lip, before his mouth replaced it.

You two lay there together for a while, occasionally kissing, but generally just enjoying each others presence. “You know”, he started again, “If I had the chance, would’ve done this right, would’ve gotten you a ring, proposed - I would’ve given you a real wedding.” You shifted your head on his shoulder slightly, your lips pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw that made the arm around you tighten. “I would’ve loved that”, you whispered, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss.

—————————

As soon as you stepped out of the elevator, Cecilia stirred you towards Cato and Brutus, who seemed to be waiting - she was on board immediately when you told her about your plan this morning. It seemed like Brutus was able to acquire some rings, because Cato was holding a small box. “Hey”, he greeted you, a soft kiss to your cheek, and a hand on your waist.

“We’ll leave you to it”, Cecilia smiled, and Brutus nodded. “Yeah, we’ll get you when you have to line up”, he added, and the two of them were off talking to old friends. “You look beautiful”, Cato smiled, kissing you properly now that your mentors were gone, and you couldn’t help but smile too. The too of you were matching, your stylist thinking all black would be adding a dramatic effect - married and wearing clothes as if someone died (or is going to, aka you two). So you were wearing a black dress, and Cato matching in a black tux.

“Thanks, you look pretty too”, you giggled, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Pretty?”, he grinned, pulling you in closer, and you just laughed. “Yeah, also strong and scary of course”, you rolled your eyes fondly, and he pinched your side, before directing your attention to the box in his hand, flipping the lid open and revealing two rings: one larger basic golden band, and on delicate thin gold ring with a diamond in the middle. “Wow, they’re so nice, considering Brutus only had today to get them”, you gasped, and he nodded, laying his cheek on top of your head while you two admired them for a moment.

“I…guess we should put them on, huh?”, he mumbled, and you nodded, the moment feeling more serious all of a sudden, as if - even if you didn’t officiate anything - you would actually be married. He took yours out and you held out your hand for him, shaking slightly, and he gently slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly.

You looked at it for a moment, before taking his out, and slipping it onto his big hand, smiling to yourself at the way it looked - the way it meant (even if only for show) that he was yours forever. “This feels good”, he suddenly said, and your eyes snapped up, meeting his gaze and the love in his eyes almost overwhelmed you. “It feels real”, you added, and he nodded, pulling you into his arms completely, cradling your jaw and stopping right in front of your lips.

“You may now kiss the bride”, he grinned, and your giggle was stifled by his lips. “I love you”, you said between kisses, your hands locking behind his neck. “I love you”, he whispered, his lips back on yours, until you were pulled apart by your mentors when it was time to line up. Let the show begin.

————————

“Married?”, Caesar gasped, the crowd was stunned and your heart beat out of your chest where you were waiting backstage. You were thankful Cato had to go first and break the news - not that he had to do much, Caesar noticed his ring right away. “Yeah, we just thought, if this is going to end soon, we want to be together forever after you know”, Cato said, and you basically see all the women in the crowd swooning over the big, bad Career being so soft. Not that you weren’t, you were always swooning over him.

“And you kept it a secret?”, Caesar asked, intrigued by the story, but you also saw that he knew what you two were doing. “We didn’t want anyone to take that moment from us too”, Cato said, and the underlying message wasn’t lost on most people, “and you know, she’s the one for me, why wait for a time that we both know is not going to come.”

“Is that why you volunteered? To be with her again?”, Caesar asked about what most people were probably interested in. “Yeah”, Cato took a deep breath, “I was hoping she wouldn’t get reaped, and when I saw she did, I knew I had to volunteer and be here with her. I couldn’t have lived a life where I didn’t try everything to protect her - and I guess even if we wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t have let us have our happy end anyway huh?” That shut Caesar up for a moment, and then Catos interview was over. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at all the crying woman in the crowd.

“So (Y/N), how is married life treating you? Is Cato a good Husband? Your ring is beautiful by the way”, Caesar started your interview with a joke. You laughed politely, the crowd joining in. “Thank you Caesar. He’s the best, he always is”, you smiled, then put your sad face on, “I just wish we could’ve had it all you know? Growing old together, having kids, grandkids…” You were suprised you were able to push a tear out, and the crowd ate it right up.

“Yes, we would have loved to see that”, he said with empathy, squeezing your hand, “but life sometimes plays out differently, and you’re both here together - tell me, how did you react, how did you feel when you saw he volunteered?” Now your face actually fell, the moment Cecilia told you still fresh in your mind. “I was so angry at first”, you sighed, remembering how you lashed out at the parade.

“Why is that?”, Caesar replied, urging you to continue. “I knew I was going to die when I was reaped, and I didn’t understand why he would volunteer just so he could die with me you know”, you explained reluctantly, not sure if you actually wanted to share your real thoughts with everyone, but you continued anyway, “but when we saw each other again, and he…made me understand how he couldn’t live without me, and how much he loves me, I understood why he did it - I would’ve done the same.” The crowd was a wreck after this, lots of woman crying again and talking about how much you deserved to be together. But what really made them lose it, was Peeta dropping that Katniss was pregnant.

————————

It was colder than the other nights in the rooftop, Catos arms keeping you warm under the blanket where you were laying. You were both still naked, the sweat from your previous activities drying - the last time you would ever get to do that. “I can’t believe this is out last night together”, you whispered, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm you, “we’ll be back in the arena tomorrow.”

Cato arms tightened around you, your face buried in his neck, and his lips ghosting over your hair. “Please baby, let’s not think about this, let’s just…”, his voice gave out, and you could tell he was trying to keep it together, your own tears flowing over and hitting his skin. “I love you so much, please always remember that”, he told you, taking a deep breath, his finger gently stroking your back. “I love you too, I’ll always love you”, you whispered, and you left the few drops of liquid that hit your hair uncommented, kissing his neck gently instead.

————————

The moment Aspasia gave you your clothes for the arena you knew it would be different than last time - the lightweight, thin material pointing towards a warmer climate. Your thoughts were running wild and at the same time it felt like you couldn’t process anything at all, you couldn’t believe you were about to enter the Hunger Games again.

“For what it’s worth, I loved being your stylist”, Aspasia broke the silence, trying to give you a smile but failing to conceal the sad look in her eyes. “I loved being styled by you”, you said, and it was genuine - she had always been really sweet with you. She opened her mouth again to respond, but the voice from the speakers interrupted her - it was time to go into the arena.

She wordlessly pulled you into a tight hug, and then seemed to remember something. “Wait, I almost forgot, that would’ve been a disaster! They cleared your ring”, she quickly pushed your wedding band, the one that Cato had put on you and that you had to give up before coming to the arena, onto your finger. “Thank you”, you whispered, actually happy about having it with you - who knew what would happen, at least you had a piece of him with you.

You forced yourself to step into the tube, the door sliding shut, and it took a while longer than last time for you to be going up, but when you did, you were blinded by the sun immediately - it was so hot and humid, you were probably right about a warmer climate, probably tropical. And when your eyes adjusted, you were proved right again, the arena was a huge jungle, but the part that worried you laid before you.

The cornucopia was in the middle of a circle shaped body of water, the tributes only separated by strips of rock leading towards the island in the middle. You started to panic, seeing the water slosh against the platform you were standing on and the countdown sounding in your ears. Then you remembered you weren’t alone, your eyes shooting up and trying to spot Cato, or really any of your allies, no matter if Katniss or Peeta.

You spotted Cato about a quarter of the circle away from you, his eyes already on you, taking in the way you looked at him wide eyed, your eyes darting towards the water and back up again, and when you subtly (as not to give your weakness away to the other tributes) shook your head, you could see it dawned on him that your plan of running towards each other again would be a problem, his eyes reflecting your own panic - you couldn’t swim.

==========

So finally a next part, I’m so sorry I always take so long, but even though I have a thousand ideas I’m soo lazy when it comes to actually writing them down ahahah! Hope you liked it anyway, I’m not completely happy, but let me know what you think and if you wanna be tagged in the next part :)

Taglist: @lisedanie @iskamr @fangirlninja67 @star611 @markeyateallyourfood @urmomsbananabread @faces-ofvenus @hopefulatrocity @inej-ruination-ghafa @trainboom @dxrkheavensworld @itsmytimetoodream @heartsforsha @enchantingpiratepeace @thorins-queen-of-erebor @darlingtonbubbles

#x reader #fluff #angst #smut #fanfiction #the hunger games #panem #cato hadley x reader #cato hadley #cato x reader

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aqua-the-smiter · 9 months ago

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Healing takes a long, long time. Who knows. It may never come. Cato Sicarius x female reader you are his only solace PART 3, APPARENTLY. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. Divider by @squishyowl . I'm sorry I keep @ing you but Cato is living rent fucking free in my head Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0z53F9I-93M

Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the dark and scary hole inside the bottom of the sea ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things weren't perfect. But they seemed to be better, at least. Even if only marginally.

Cato was happier than you'd ever seen him in the weeks since you got together. At least, when he was with you. He was a surprisingly affectionate man once you got past his shell. He was still lonely, still in pain, but he had you, and he loved you. And he wasn't ashamed to show it either.

Some Ultramarines congratulated him on it. A few seemed a little envious. That one ambassador that Cato had had less pleasant dealings had glared at you like you insulted her mother. Overall though, the reaction was positive. Even Lord Guilliman seemed pleased, laying a hand on Cato's shoulder.

Astartes getting girlfriends wasn't common, but it wasn't entirely unheard of either. Most kept quiet about it. While he didn't trumpet from the rooftops about you, he wasn't afraid to kiss you or let you kiss him in public when you accompanied him, or allow you to hold his hand, or slip your hand around his elbow (as best you could) so the two of you could walk arm and arm together.

And flowers. You loved flowers, and every day when he came to you he'd present you with some, weaving them into your hair or tucking them behind your ears. You got the impression he enjoyed finding and giving them to you as much as you enjoyed receiving them, and you were filling out a whole book full of pressed and dried blooms.

He even had a pet name for you. Peahen, after the female of the numerous peafowl that inhabited Macragge. They had been brought over by early settlers and found a very comfortable niche for themselves. The males were especially pretty, with cobalt blue bodies and magnificent, long tails of green and iridescent eye spots that could spread out into a huge fan of feathers. The females were less showy, with plain brown and white feathers, but even they had a splash of bright blue and green on their necks. And the chicks were absolutely adorable.

The name always made you giggle. You supposed Cato was a like a peacock with his bright blue armor and plumed helmet. Your peacock.

For your part, you made up for things by being equally as affectionate as possible. It was pretty clear that he needed it. Giving it to him as freely as he did to you. You would let him scoop you up and carry you around just because he felt like doing it, or rest his head in your lap when he was particularly frustrated or put out. Stroking his hair, whispering to him softly that things would be just fine. He didn't seem like he believed it, but it made him happy to hear from you.

But...it was still pretty clear he wasn't doing well, and that irritated you to no end. You wanted to help him. You want to scream at everyone who made him feel like he had nobody to talk to about his troubles. And you would, too. You felt fiercely protective of him.

It was like he was in a hole. A deep, dark pit in his own head that he couldn't climb out of. Or he'd just gotten used to sitting in the dirt. Sometimes misery and pain could be awful comfortable if you lived with it long enough. Even if you didn't want it to be. Or if not that, then extremely hard to crawl out of. Like a tar pit.

And you weren't the only one who noticed his poor state, either.

Roboute Guilliman leaned back in his chair. In one hand was a mug of steaming mountain laurel tea. On a very small clear spot on his desk was a small plate that held some Eldar sweets Yvraine had brought for their weekly chat over tea. She held her teacup in the toes of her left foot, a plate in her right hand, and her gryrinx Alorynis tucked under her left arm. He kept trying to fling himself into Guilliman's lap, which he seemed to prefer because it was bigger.

He loved these meetings with her. They had become a weekly thing under the guise of "negotiation", and she was an accepted sight around the Fortress of Hera. It was nothing short of a relief to have her to talk to.

"Let him sit." Roboute said, amused as he watched the feline struggle.

"He'll get your lovely blue toga covered in sheddings." Yvraine said, sipping her tea. Placing Alorynis in his lap anyway. The gryrinx immediately curled into a happy ball, purring.

He stroked the creature's back, smiling. Although she could see it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't mind. I like cats."

"Robu, you're frowning again." She poked his wrinkled forehead. "What's on your mind this time?"

"Nothing unusual. I am concerned about one of my sons. Among other things."

"Which one?" She said, amused. "You have so many. I'm jealous."

He snorted. "Very funny, you unbearable xenos witch. It is Cato Sicarius."

"Ah yes. The one who never smiles."

"Most Astartes don't smile too often." Roboute pointed out.

"He only has two expressions from what I've seen. Grinding his teeth behind his lips, and a thousand yard stare."

"He's been happier recently. But that's because of his serf, I believe. The root problem is still there."

Despite her teasing, her expression was sympathetic. "What do you mean?"

"He used to be a very...arrogant man. He has gone through much humbling since, but I do not think all of it has been beneficial. I think he is as bad as he was in some aspects, but in the very different way. Instead of pride, it is pain that guides his actions. Although he adamantly refuses to talk about it to anyone."

"Have you tried asking him directly? He wouldn't refuse you."

"No, but forcing him to speak will do no good either. It will make him more evasive and mistrustful." He sighed. "I have asked, but only vaguely. I do not want to be overbearing to my Astartes, but I am worried about Cato. He pulls away from his brothers, and from me. He isolates himself, and wanders around in the night. There is no light in his eyes."

"Do you have any idea as to why?" Yvraine asked. "Maybe he just prefers to be alone."

"No. Some years ago, a ship he was traveling on got lost in the Warp. It was trapped for five years, aimless and constantly being invaded by daemons and Warpborn horrors. Many of his men died. I believe it has traumatized him."

Yvraine's ears flicked up in surprise. She looked sober. "I didn't know that was even possible. What does an Angel of Death need to see that will scar his mind so deeply?"

"It is very possible. Nobody likes to talk about it, but it is. Granted, it is also not common. In that you are correct. It takes a special kind of hell to leave that kind of scarring."

"But I suppose being lost in the Warp for five years is as special kind of hell."

"It is."

"He also doesn't seem to popular with your boys. I've heard some...less than flattering remarks."

"You probably hear everything with those ears." He said with a small smile. She snorted a laugh. "He is...a divisive figure. Many respect him. Many cannot stand him. I know one of my ambassadors really dislikes him."

"I've heard people calling him sexist."

"He is not. That rumor is stupid." Roboute said, thoroughly tired of it. "I thought my sons were more mature, but apparently not."

"Boys will be boys Robu." She pinched his cheek.

He sighed. "I wish to help him, but I don't know how. And..." He trailed off, uncertain of how much to share.

"Go on Robu. You know I won't breathe a word of it."

She read him like an open book. He loved that woman. "The mission I sent the Redeemed on. It is a success so far. If all goes well, I will be off to Medusa soon. If that goes well, I will need Cato then. And I will need him at his sharpest. Beyond, even."

The Redeemed were a...peculiar chapter of Astartes under Roboute's direct control. They were perfectly normal, except for the fact that it was entirely made up of former Chaos and traitor marines. He had a soft spot for them, and they were by far his best weapon against daemons and Warp spawn of all kinds.

"Ah. The thing with your brother?"

"Yes." That was the end of that train of discussion. "I know I cannot rush his healing, but I do not believe he has even begun to heal. His wounds still bleed. I fear if I try and intervene I will make things worse. I do not wish to hurt him."

"You said he had a serf he's fond of. It seems he's not entirely without comfort."

"He loves her. And it is good he has her. He does not trust his brothers with this. He does not trust me with this. Let him have her. Someone."

"I think you could reach out to him too. Don't force him, but merely inquire. Tell him you've noticed his change in behavior and be honest about your concerns. You are still his father, after a strange fashion. Maybe he could use some kind words from his Primarch. His Primarch certainly needs kind words too from time to time."

He smiled at that. "Not inaccurate. I will see what I can do. Maybe talk to his serf as well."

"See? There's the Robu I know. Always making plans." She patted his head. "And you are still as infuriating as ever." "Shut up and drink your tea before it gets cold." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a beautiful evening. The light of the setting sun was golden, the day was warm and the breeze was cool. It was nice enough that even the Ultramarines took notice, spending their small amount of free time outside in snatches.

Cato sighed. The wind made his robes ripple and flutter. He'd received a note inviting him to share a jug of wine and some small talk with a few other officers. His first instinct was to refuse, but then he remembered he was trying to retain some semblance of normality. So now he felt obligated to show up. He would have brought you with him, but you were fast sleep in the sunshine. Instead he'd covered you up with his cape and let you nap. You were cute like that anyway.

He found the others sitting in the shade of an old willow tree, the wind rustling the long branches. It sounded like rattling bones. Marneus, Uriel, and Demetrian were scattered across the benches around the trunk. They all looked unusually relaxed and in good spirits.

"Sicarius."

"Cato."

He sat on the edge of the bench Titus was on, who promptly handed him a clay cup. The liquid inside was a dark red, dry and sour tasting.

"Chapter master, Uriel, Titus." He nodded to each. "I wasn't expecting an invitation. Did anything special happen?" He asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"Can't we just want to enjoy your company?" Titus asked, smacking his shoulder.

He snorted. "Nobody enjoys my company. I thought that was established."

"That serf of yours seems to enjoy it. Congratulations on that." Uriel smiled at him. "I never would have guessed you to be the type to seek out something like that."

Titus nodded. "It's very rare, but not unheard of. I know the Chapter Master had a girl once, when he was young and attractive."

Calgar raised a grayed eyebrow. "What do you mean was?"

"Well...you are old." Uriel offered.

"Brilliant observation Ventris. It's that tactical genius that made you captain of the fourth."

Uriel and Titus both snickered at that. Cato offered a small smile at the Chapter Master's witticism. He took a sip of the wine to offset the fact that he wasn't laughing. A small one, though. It was starting to look a bit too much like blood for his comfort.

Then Marneus's gaze turned squarely on Cato. "But I'm not so old that a replacement needs to be considered yet. Sicarius."

He nearly choked on his wine. "Who, me? Absolutely not. I don't want to be Chapter Master. Keep your chair."

The thought was utterly laughable. He had aspired to it. Once. Not anymore though. he'd already proved himself too incompetent for that seat.

That earned him three raised eyebrows.

"What happened to you, Cato?" Uriel asked. "I thought you were counting down the days until Calgar was unavailable."

"I was. When I was young, and still had hope." He replied, then seeing the looks he was getting, "But it doesn't look like our venerable Chapter Master will be abdicating anytime soon." He added, forcing a joke.

"1st Captain Severus will be pleased to hear it." Titus told him with a grin.

"Seems I get a break from young upstarts for a while." Calgar said wryly.

"And when the time comes may someone worthy take your place."

He held up his cup in salute to the chapter master. Hoping that they believed his words were true. Because they were. Someone worthy. Not him.

The others raised their cups in return before taking a swig.

"Maybe one of you two." He added.

Titus shook his head. "I think I'm happier where I am."

"I never considered it." Uriel admitted. "I try to keep my aspirations reasonable."

"You would be a good pick though." Titus mused, agreeing with Cato.

He nodded.

"You have the track record." Calgar nodded slowly. "If you're not dead by the time I am, and if Agemman doesn't want to job for some reason."

"You're a hero, Uriel. The things you have accomplished go beyond even our line of duty." Cato said. "I believe you have a lot of qualities the Primarch likes to see in us as well. That might make you more a favorable choice."

"Don't sell yourself short Cato. You have done a lot of good too. Lord Guilliman wouldn't have made you captain of the Victrix for nothing."

The wine was starting to acquire an oddly metallic taste. Like iron. "Everything I have done has come off the heels of a spectacular blunder."

"I got sent off to Medrenguard because I didn't follow the Codex Astartes. Remember?"

Cato shook his head. "You did what needed to be done. I sent my men to their deaths."

"The Emperor's Will was not your fault, Sicarius." Calgar interjected. "Blaming yourself accomplishes nothing."

"And what about the losses at Damnos? Or Black Reach? I have proven time and time again that I am not a good commander."

"There is no leader of men who has only victories. Not even Lord Guilliman can claim that. You have failed, and you have failed hard. That is certainly true. But you have learned from it since. I doubt you would make the same mistakes again. Would you?"

"Of course not."

"There you have it then."

He felt a warmth in his chest for a moment before the doubts he held to be truths reasserted themselves. He had missed this. This fellowship. It was like he had been gifted a taste of the brotherhood he had lost, and he hadn't realized how bitterly he had missed it.

"That is something easier said than applied." He countered, and before he could stop himself, added. "Some things still haunt me."

It eve smelled like blood now.

Uriel nodded sagely. "I still think about the things I saw on Medrenguard sometimes. Although time has sanded the edges a great deal."

"Yes, of course." He said, a little too quickly. "It always does. But it's still unpleasant."

It didn't. He thought. Everything is still as sharp and painful as ever. Do you still smell the charnel reek? Do you still hear the screaming and moaning of the poor wretches of the Daemonculaba? Is your sleep full of daemon music and rot? Do you see Tyranids in every shadow and Iron Warriors in every doorway?

Time hadn't healed any of his wounds. He could still feel them, deep in his mind, pulsing with pain and oozing infection. That's how he felt. Like an infected wound. He had simply gotten worse and worse over time. That's why he was in this state now. Both his honor and his mind in pieces.

He wondered why they had asked him here in the first place. His hand shook, and he put the wine cup down. It all tasted like blood anyway. He wasn't like them. They were all heroes. They were everything an Ultramarine was supposed to be.

Maybe that's why he was here. So he could see everything that he wasn't.

He fell silent for the most part after that, listening to the other three and occasionally answering yes or no to some question or another. As quickly as that moment of warmth had come it was gone, and he felt hollow again.

Eventually he stood up to take his leave.

"Wait." He turned to see Titus holding out a few long sprigs of mountain laurels. Clusters of beautiful, star shaped white, pink and red flowers.

"Take these to your lady. I notice you've been bringing her flowers all the time." He said with a smile. Cato took them with a nod of gratitude.

"She likes them. Thank you."

"Good luck with her." Titus called after him, before his expression turned stony.

He was going to have to talk to someone about this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Peahen." Cato called softly, opening the door to his quarters.

You were awake, sewing up a few ragged edges on his broad red cape. Looking up, your face broke into a wide grin when you saw him, and the gorgeous flowers he had for you. Putting your sewing down, you sprung into him like a rabbit into a trap. He gathered you up in his arms and held you tightly. Tucking the laurels into your hair.

"They're beautiful Cato. Thank you so much." You beamed at him. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiled. Feeling all his earlier distress draining away as he held you close. You could see his expression soften, the tension drop from his shoulders.

"One of my brothers suggested them." He said.

"He has good taste." You ran your fingers gently over the petals. "You know you don't have to bring me flowers every day." He sat down, pulling you into his lap. "Maybe not. But seeing your eyes light up every time I present you with some makes it worth doing. I like making you happy."

You snuggled against him, as content as a cat with a stolen fish. "I appreciate it. You know I've saved every single one. I'm filling a book with them."

"Really?"

"Yep." You nodded. "I dry and press them. It's like a record of sorts. Since we...became and item."

He took your small hand in his and squeezed it.

"I want to make you happy too." You told him.

"You make me happy just by being here."

He kissed your cheek.

"You are my solace."

You pulled one of the springs of laurel from your hair and tucked it behind his ear. "You look so handsome Cato."

"I love you." He whispered. Holding you close. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Titus." Roboute greeted his son as he walked into his office.

"Lord Primarch." He returned. "Am I interrupting anything?"

He sighed. "Nothing out of the ordinary, lieutenant. Is something wrong? You look troubled."

"Forgive me if this is nothing, but I felt that I needed to speak to someone about this." Titus began. "I...believe there is something going on with Cato."

To his surprise Roboute's expression darkened almost immediately. "Tell me." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, you’re just like me

#Titus is best wingman #Don't ask me where a bloody part 3 came from #warhammer 40k #warhammer #adeptus astartes #space marines #ultramarines #space marine x reader #space marine x female reader #cato sicarius #cato sicarius x reader #cato sicarius x female reader #cato has ptsd #Also a pinch of Guillivraine #captain titus #marneus calgar #uriel ventris

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f0rlorn · 1 year ago

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kingdom come → treech

treech!tbosas x reader

notes → in which your lover gets ripped away from you, and you’re left with mere memories, a promise, and a locket. feminine intended reader. i am a district seven girly FOR LIFEEE. when i was making a plan for a cato fic on wattpad, reader was ofc from seven ✨

warnings → me giving characters angst alert part two!!! not edited & uploaded via iphone

“treech!” you giggled as you chased him in the woods you called your backyard. you heard him laugh as he leapt over a stream. attempting to follow him, you slipped, accidentally landing in the shallow water. luckily, you had your rain boots on. the red rain boots with hand painted black polk a dots that reminded you of ladybugs. on the other hand, your ruffly dress was not so lucky, soaked with water, dirt crawling at the hems. treech whipped around at the sound of you splashing, and offered a hand to help you up. you giggled as you took his hand. “thank you, my knight.” you teased, beginning to walk back to your home.

“anything for m’lady!” treech declared, raising his arm triumphantly. your youth was filled with heartwarming moments like this. days spent playing with treech in the woods when the two of you were kids. and when you grew into your teenage years, long, meaningful conversations filled with laughter and secrets with each other after treech finished working. you had known treech your whole life, best friends for fifteen years and lovers for three, he was a part of you.

today, the day of the reaping, your mother had laid out an old striped dress of hers. the once colorful stripes had faded into something dreary, but the dress fit you like a glove. it was common knowledge in the districts that children should dress nice for the reaping. not because it was some momentous occasion, but because what they wear then might be the last thing they wear ever. dressing them up for their funerals, a devastating truth. treech met you outside, and he tilted his hat to you when you stepped out of the door.

“m’lady,” he greeted, providing his arm for you to latch onto. “well don’t you look ravishing,” he mused, and you curtsied at his compliment, before looping your arm through his. you were treech’s pride and joy and he made sure to treat you as such. the boy was more than happy to show you off, parading you around the streets of seven. the two of you chatted lightly about the days events as he guided you to the town’s square, located a mile and half from your house. eventually you had to part ways with him, but not before you left a quick peck on the cheek. he wore the kiss on his face boastfully as he joined the group of boys to your left. you smiled, finding your own place in the crowd of girls. the process went as normal, a few small announcements made before the female tribute was reaped. her name was lamina, a beautiful tragedy wrapped in a vest, but not anyone you recognized.

your breath hitched as they called for the male tribute. it had happened so fast. you had never been this overwhelmed. they called treech’s name. your treech. you allowed yourself to hyperventilate for a few moments before catching sight of the boy slowly walking towards the front of the hall of justice. district seven, being one of the largest districts, had thousands of kids piled into the town square, separated by gender. out of the entire population of seven’s youth, it never occurred to you that your boyfriend could be the unlucky victim to be reaped.

struggling to control your breathing, you leaped into action, shoving your way through the crowd of girls to the pathway down the middle of the block. treech, still in shock, made his way down said pathway rather hesitantly, as if in disbelief that he had really been reaped. his eyes were scanning the crowd as he passed, stopping for a moment as he met yours. in an instant, you reached forward and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug before any nearby peacekeeper could intervene.

“i love you, treech. i love you, i love you, i love you!” you repeated, sobbing into his jacket. his arms wrapped around you tightly, not wanting to let go.

“i’ll win this, y/n, for you. i’ll see you soon, it’ll only be a couple days, just you wait.” he mumbled his promise to you. you pulled apart, woefully wiping away the lipstick mark on his face, cleaning him up for the cameras. there was no doubt that the entirety of the capital was watching you now. what must they think of the spectacle you had created? were they intrigued? disgusted? at this point, the peacekeepers had made their way to him, dragging him onstage.

“treech!” you objected, reaching out for him. another peacekeeper lightly knocked you backwards, a pitiful expression adorning his face. the girls nearby, some you recognized and some strangers, held the same expression. none spoke, just stared at you. keeping your eyes on the ground, you creeped back to your spot in the crowd. soon enough, peacekeepers were hauling your boyfriend into the hall, and more were beginning to clear the square, forcing you to make your way back to your place of residence. unbeknownst to you, treech had slipped a token in the pocket of your dress before he was pulled away. it wasn’t until halfway through your agonizing, lonely trek back home that you noticed it. it was a dainty, wooden heart shaped locket. patterns had been intricately carved into the surface, no doubt by the careful hands of your loving treech. you traced the patterns with the pads of your fingers, tears staining the wooden block.

you clutched the locket, a newfound hope seeping into you, as you held onto the promise that he would win. for you.

#treech #treech tbosas #tbosas #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #thg x reader #thg fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas fanfiction #treech x reader #treech tbosas x reader #treech thg x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Spotify

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alavestineneas · 2 years ago

Text

Soul

pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

summary: This is war, and people make choices. Sometimes, there is no right one.

warnings: typical hunger games violence, Finnick and Annie aren’t soulmates, minor character death

Haymitch clicks the skip button on the remote; the next pair of tributes shows up on the screen.

''District two,'' he announces. ''Male volunteer, Brutus. His main weapon is a spear. Female tribute: Y/N.''

"Wow," Peeta mutters under his breath.

''I know her,'' Katniss says, glancing at the man beside her. ''She is on TV all the time.''

''Trust me, she is everywhere. Y/N is your main competition—Capitol's darling, lines of sponsors, deadly with a knife. They call her Panther.''

"Panther?" Katniss scoffs.

"She killed one in the arena with her bare hands." Haymitch chuckles, seeing his tribute's face transform from confident to slightly horrified.

''She is committed. I'll give her that,'' Peeta jokes.

The woman on the screen gives the cameras a half-smile, joining hands with her partner. The District 2 audience roars in excitement. Katniss felt shivers coating her skin; something in the woman's gaze caught her attention.

''Nice dress, dear. Though I don't know if I can call it that.''

Y/N did not even turn around, completely ignoring Finnick's existence. Her dress, or rather, a piece of cloth, left a little to the imagination. Black, almost sheer fabric lightly coated her body, tracing its curves; the only stronghold of modesty was lace lingerie.

Finnick would lie if he said she wasn't impressive; the woman looked like a goddess. It was her job, after all. Besides, he had seen her in much less. They fucked a couple of times, both too drunk to remember. That's what he told her, at least. That it doesn't mean anything because, to her, it didn't.

Finnick remembers every whisper and every messy kiss. The smell of her perfume mixed with shampoo and sweat; Y/N's hands on his back. Not soft like Annie's; no, in calluses and cuts from hours of training.

He knows it's a dead end and still allows her to kiss him. She never stays, each time running through his fingers like sand. He wasn't in love with her. Love is supposed to feel light and warm, like Annie's smile, and this felt bitter.

And yet, his soul belonged to Y/N. Maybe because she didn't care about him, Finnick was willing to let her keep it. It wasn't fair. He was supposed to be happy with Annie. She was home, his lighthouse.

But Y/N was his sea.

''Look who's talking.'' The woman finally turned around, finishing checking the strings on her horse. ''What do you want, golden boy? An alliance?'' She raised an eyebrow.

''With you? I'd rather be dead.''

''I wouldn't worry about that part, Odair.'' Brutus intervened. ''We have fifteen minutes before the start, so I suggest you keep moving.''

His outfit was much more proper. Finnick guessed it was for the best; he was not particularly excited to see the man naked. Odair suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and flashed Brutus a smile instead. ''Of course.''

''Peacock.'' the man muttered.

Y/N chuckled at her partner's remark; Finnick headed to the District 12 chariot. He wished he didn't feel her piercing gaze on his back.

''I believe we hadn't met before. I'm Y/N, District 2.''

Katniss looked up from the target she threw knives at. The woman in front of her was truly stunning; the camera did not do her justice in The Reaping.

''Katniss Everdeen, District 12.''

The woman laughed, clearly finding her amusing. Katniss felt the tingle of anger—did she say something funny?

''Oh, darling, I know. Everybody here knows your name. After all, you are the reason we are here again.'' The woman came closer, taking the smallest blade from the row and throwing it into the target. It hit the dummy right in the head. ''Besides, I mentored Clove and Cato in your games. Wonderful children, you know. Marvellous fighters. Had every chance to win.''

Katniss glanced at the woman's face. It was stone-cold, and her eyes focused on the targets. She wondered if the reason Clove chose the knives was because of Y/N's win. How did the career mentors feel about sending children into the arena?

''They were...good.'' Katniss agreed.

''Here is my advice, Katniss Everdeen from District 12.'' The woman hit the last target with ease. ''Pay attention to the hands.''

Katniss wondered what that was supposed to be about until she looked down at her hands. Of course, she was holding the knife wrong.

The first interview the Capitol aired was more of a warning. Finnick is too lost to comprehend anything Caesar is asking Peeta, his attention fixed on the Y/N next to him.

She sits on the chair, anxiously tapping on the armrest. Her eyes follow every move Caesar makes. Y/N answers carefully and thoughtfully. She didn't know the rebellion was being planned.

''Katniss, can you remember when you spoke to Y/N in the training centre?'' Plutarch asks.

''I think so.'' Katniss frowns. ''She told me these games were done because of me.''

Beete shares a look with Plutarch. Finnick doesn't know why they are surprised; Y/N always was smart.

''Anything else?''

''She talked about Clove and Cato. And that I have to pay attention to my hands.''

''Your hands?'' Plutarch doesn't sound too sure.

''Yes. I was holding the knife wrong.'' Katniss looks around the room. ''I decided.''

Plutarch nods at him, and Finnick is finally free to leave the room. After seeing this, he has a lot to think about.

''Finnick, there is something we want to show you.'' Haymitch nods, and Finnick steps into a small room filled with screens.

Beetee is there too, as are Katniss and Plutarch. An uneasy feeling covers his stomach; if they have him here, something happened.

His mind floods with hundreds of possibilities. Annie is at the Capitol. Y/N is there too. He did not know if they tortured her; the woman didn't know about the plan. But so did Peeta, whose ''interview'' he is watching on the screen now.

His face is beaten, and he looks like he hasn't slept for days. The boy lost what looks like fifteen pounds, the ridiculous suit on him hanging like a sheet. Peeta says something about rebels using Katniss. His interview finishes, and the screen fades to black.

Finnick feels like he missed something until the screen lights up once more. This time, a figure is tied to a chair in the middle of the cell. Finnick almost jumps, the realization hitting him—it's Annie. She is crying, begging not to kill her. Her hair is a mess, and her skin is covered in bruises.

''Move in front of the camera.'' a male voice orders.

A person comes to stand to the left of Annie. It's Y/N. She is in a military uniform, her hair tied tightly. She looks different from the first interview—now calm and collected. Her steady hand holds a gun.

''Proceed.'' the same voice commands.

Katniss gasps. A loud gunshot fires, echoing in the chamber. The screen is covered in blood and brains. Finnick doesn't hear a word Plutarch says to him. Annie is dead. They killed her.

''Are you sad again?'' Y/N asks, sitting beside him.

Finnick doesn't answer, still fidgeting with a piece of rope.

''You have to eat, you know?''

''Why did you kill her?" he asks, looking into her eyes.

Y/N smiles. ''She was dead way before I pressed the trigger. You killed her when you picked me over her.''

''No.'' Finnick whispers. ''It's not true.''

''Not true? Each time you looked away when you kissed her, each time you whispered my name instead of hers, you think she didn't know?"

Finnick's lower lip trembles, tears blurring his vision. ''Shut up.''

''You can stop lying now, Finnick. For once in your life, be honest with yourself. It's kind of liberating, isn't it? Not having to worry about pretending anymore. You are free.''

''I said shut up!'' he shouts, throwing the nearest mug at her.

It hits the wall, crashing. The room is empty. It always was. A scared-looking nurse watches him through the glass, ready to call for help. He waves her off - just another one of his visions.

It haunts him that the only one appearing in his dreams is Y/N. It should've been Annie, but she is dead, and Finnick hopes she finally found her peace.

Y/N is with Capitol. It's not surprising; she has no reason not to be. She was saving herself. Annie was as good as dead anyway. Still, it broke him. All of these things they had to survive because of Snow, and she still chose to serve him.

He can't blame her—Finnick saw what they did to Peeta. He doesn't know what he would've done under that torture. Still, he hopes it hurts her, given the way she betrayed herself.

The rescue mission was successful. Peeta and Johanna are in District 13. They captured Y/N too, but Finnick doesn't care. Coin and Plutarch spent most of their time in her room. Nobody tells him anything, but Finnick guesses that Katniss's condition isn't going to work this time.

A few days after that, Coin has an announcement to make. There are numerous cameras present, and she, as usual, wants the surviving victors to be present. So, he sits near Katniss in the first row, waiting for the tribunal to start. He knows what his vote is going to be.

The president's Coin speech is unnecessarily long and dramatic. She waves her hands around, talking about lost fighters and the need to continue resisting. ''And now, I want to award a few of our bravest soldiers.'', she concludes.

''People are dying.'' Finnick hears Katniss mutter under her breath. He is not happy with the idea either. He just wants to get over this.

The first to get a medal is a man who was leading the rescue mission. Next: two rebel soldiers.

''The last person I want to honour made the rescue of our victors possible. They spied in the heart of the Capitol and were dedicated to the revolution even in the face of death.'' Coin gestures to the bottom of the improvised stage. ''Sergant Y/L/N.''

Finnick freezes. Annie. Her screams. A gun. She is an enemy. A killer. Anxious tapping. Pay attention to the hands. The world around him begins to collide.

Y/N steps are firm. She shakes the woman's hand, accepting the medal. A few claps ring in the hall—people are surprised and likely scared. District 2 victor's face holds a few new scars.

She gets off stage as quickly as she got on, taking her place beside Plutarch. Y/N sits straight, focused on the president's words. Finnick wonders why he can't hear anything except for the heartbeat in his ears. A taste of blood fills his mouth.

''Finnick?'' Katniss whispers.

The world stops spinning.

Y/N is tying the laces on her boots tightly, checking everything. She blends in with the soldiers easily; they even throw around a few jokes. This is her element, something she was born and raised to do. Y/N has the most weaponry on her hands: knives, guns, and a few grantees. They have another mission.

Peeta is right next to her. For some reason, he feels the most content having her around. When Katniss asked Y/N about it, she just shrugged. ''Mutt things.''

She is in Squad 451—of course. Coin wouldn't let such a famous face get away with just living. Finnick hates having her around and hates admitting that he understands her now. There was no other choice—Y/N had to kill Annie to prove her loyalty.

The mood in the team changes completely after Mitchell's death. Finnick doesn't know what to say to Peeta, too busy calming everyone else down, and Katniss is frankly completely useless, so deep in her own emotions.

''I'll talk to him.'' Y/N stands up, checking the gun.

Katniss looks at her in horror. ''No!''

''Let her,'' Finnick says, tiredly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

''How could you say that?" Katniss turns to him in anger. ''You saw what she did! You saw!''

''I did,'' Finnick agrees, his jaw tense. ''And because of that, you got Peeta back. So let her go, Katniss.''

Y/N watches their bickering silently. Finally, Katniss nods. The woman leaves them, approaching Peeta. Their voices are still heard, and Katniss eventually relaxes.

''They were right. I am a monster.'' the baker boy says, his eyes still closed.

''It makes two of us, then.'' Y/N jokes, sitting beside him. ''You are the one Capitol created, and I am one by choice.''

''How could you say that so calmly?''

''I came to terms with it pretty early. People see what they want to, Peeta. What do you see when you look at me?''

''You saved my life.'' he shrugged.

''Yes, but I lied, and I killed people to do it. Am I a monster?'' Y/N asks. The question is rhetorical. ''When I look at you, I see a scared eighteen-year-old boy, who just wants to survive. You are strong, Peeta. Stronger than most of us. This is war, and people make choices. Sometimes, there is no right one.''

Peeta stared at her for a solid minute. ''You aren't as bad as you think you are.'' he finally says.

Y/N smiles sadly. ''You aren't either.''

Katniss tries to focus on the wet ladder when she hears a shout.

''Why is he there alone?'' It's Y/N.

Katniss looks down - Finnick is fighting off mutts with his trident. There are a lot of them, she realizes. He can't handle that. Just as she turns to grab something to help, she sees Y/N coming down.

''Climb!'' she shouts at her, pulling out a gun. And Katniss does.

A mutt breaks Finncik's trident in half with a loud thud, lurching at his head next. Just as its mouth opens, it falls, lifeless.

''Here.'' Y/N throws him one of her knives. ''On your left!''

They are fighting back to back - Y/N has run out of bullets, so she uses knives instead. Duck, step, and push. They have done it thousands of times, both from career Districts.

Finnick doesn't have the time to count, but mutts are slowly covering the floor, painting the water red. He feels a sharp pain in his stomach—one of the bastards managed to get him good - and grabs the nearest wall for support. Finnick watches as Y/N kills the last monster, pulling her knife out of its chest.

''Y/N,'' he says, trying to grab her attention.

''You know, you could've asked them for hand-to-hand combat if you wanted to die that badly. What were you thinking, staying here with one piece of metal on your hands, huh?''

''Y/N.''

''That's why I said you are all not fit to be fucking soldiers. You lack common sense!''

''Y/N.''

''WHAT?'' she snaps, turning to him. Her face changes from angry to concerned in a matter of seconds. ''Finnick, you are bleeding.''

He nods, feeling his knees weaken. Y/N is already beside him, sitting him on the cold floor. The water hits and soaks her pants, but she doesn't seem to notice.

''It's okay, let me look,'' she mutters, removing his hands from the injury.

It's big; she notices with horror. If they can get him help in twenty minutes, he will survive. Anything longer, and it's a dead end. Finnick knows it too; he has seen enough wounds to understand his chances. He watches as Y/N takes off her jacket, pressing it into his stomach.

''Can you hold it for me?'' she asks.

Finnick nods, feeling a sharp pain coming back. Y/N searches in her pockets until she finally finds a radio set. She tries to turn it on a couple of times, her hands trembling.

''Y/N, it's okay.''

She shakes her head. ''No, you are not going to tell me it's okay. I'll get you help, no matter if you want it or not.''

Finnick looks at her, a slow smile appearing on his face. ''Kiss me.''

''What?" Y/N looks up from the radio, mortified.

''I said kiss me, Y/N.''

She leans in closer, salty tears staining her cheeks, and places a soft kiss on his lips. ''You are getting out of here alive,'' she whispers.

''I love you,'' Finnick mutters. He closes his eyes just for a second. He is so exhausted.

The first thing he sees is the overbearing light. Finnick struggles to open his eyes. If this was death, it was certainly not peaceful.

He comes to his senses slowly—first, he hears beeping, and then he feels his stomach.

''Fuck.'' Finnick groans. The pain is impossible.

''Finnick?'' He hears a familiar voice. It's Y/N.

Her face is puffy, but she looks real to him. Even if it is one of his visions, Finnick is still happy to see her.

''How do you feel?'' she asks, moving the sweaty hair out of his eyes.

''Are we dead?''

Y/N stops to look at him. ''No. The radio worked, and the team managed to find us in time.''

''Good.'' Finnick closes his eyes once more. ''Because you didn't say it back.''

A choked laugh escapes her lips. ''You are an idiot, Odair,'' Y/N says, pressing a kiss on his temple. ''But I do love you.''

Finnick smiles. He always knew his soul was safe in her arms.

#thg #hunger games finnick #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair #au #imagine #district two #hurt/comfort

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leviathansshadycorner · 1 year ago

Text

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 4

Summary: (Y/n) explores.

A/n: Marvel has -3 rizz

Sorry for typos

Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1

____________________________________

Chapter 4: Floor 10

“Christ (Y/n), I swear you’re going to give me a heart attack. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again please I beg.” Dolly continued to panic as the seven of you walked to the elevator.

The mentors were keeping a close eye on you as you walked, making sure you didn’t run off and cause trouble. Buckley walked ahead of you with the stylists and Pradain, trying to get an answer as to why the Capitol citizens dressed as they did. Of course you strayed behind, taking in your surroundings and observing the other tributes.

“That was quite the stunt you pulled back there.” An arrogant voice came from the left of you. Moving your head to meet the voice, you were met with a cheeky smile and rosy cheeks. The male tribute from 1- the tribute which you were constantly making eye contact with was now walking by your side.

“Thank you? I’m sorry, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that.” Came your reply as you sped up trying to hide in between the stylists and Pradain.

The boy however caught up with you. “You’re from 10 right?”

“Uh…” You were at a loss for words. Why was he trying to be all chummy with you?

“Marvel!” The female from 1 yelled, looking annoyed as she came to retrieve him. “Brutus is asking for you.” She sneered as she took him by the arm.

“See you around 10.” He said with a final smirk before being taken to his mentor.

Buckley turned around to make sure you were alright. When he was sure that you were, he gave you a slight smile, continuing to walk towards the elevator with the rest of the group.

“We’re staying on floor 10.” Pradain explained as you all stepped into the elevator.

The whole box was made up of glass, allowing for the tributes to view the rooms as they moved upwards. You were cramped in the middle of Dolly and Ramsey, the two of them still holding you by a hypothetical leash. It was an awkward ride up, but it only got worse when the tributes from 2 and their team packed themselves in the elevator.

“Won’t it break?” Buckley asked no one in particular.

“No it won’t. It’s Capitol technology.” The female tribute, Clove you heard, said matter of factly as she turned her intense expression to face the doors of the elevator.

Cato stood there, just opposite of you. He knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe it was the way your eyes always avoided him, or the way your jaw clenched and nostrils flared whenever he was around. He found it funny for some reason, seeing how afraid he seemed to make you, or rather seeing how much of a reaction to his mere presence you gave.

Of course as he expected, the moment he came into the elevator cart your eyes quickly went from him to your subtle reflection in front of you. He kept his expression bored and uninterested, but you could tell his gaze was fixed on you. In fact his whole head was tilted in a way that followed your eye level. He was trying to read you, understand how a measly girl from 10 could throw such a ballsy move into the court.

“What a show! Right?” Their Capitol representative broke the silence with enthusiasm. Pradain quickly joined in, talking about how the stylist outdid themselves this year, although you disagreed entirely.

The trip up the elevator was quick for them, since they were district 2, meaning that you were free from Cato’s intense glares. For some reason, and you couldn’t quite put a finger on it, you kept attracting blonde careers. As the District 2 team left, the bulky boy made sure to glance at you one final time before heading out with the rest of his team.

After a couple minutes or so the elevator rose up to floor 10. The experience made your stomach feel like it was in your throat, and you had to grab into Dolly as to not hunch over and fall. Once you reached the floor the doors opened. The room was gigantic. It looked to be the size of your whole neighborhood, and was larger than the town square. Chairs and fancy rugs decorated the gray place, bringing life to the lonely area. There were screens on almost every corner, stairs that led up to more rooms, and a table almost as long as the train cart, sitting in the middle of the room. As you’ve come to notice, two people wearing red outfits and with slicked back hair stood in front of the doors, almost as if they were waiting to be ordered.

“Woah, this place is bigger than my neighborhood-” Buckley commented as he looked around, his head fixated on the lights above.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You replied also looking around in awe of how a place could be so clean.

Why did the Capitol people need all this space? You were sure that at least 60% of the room didn’t get touched. You took a seat next to Dolly on the couch. Pradain was speaking to the people dressed in red- Avoxes- you learned. Ramsey seemed to be used to the pampered Capitol life. He quickly found himself in the kitchen rummaging around cupboards until he found a bottle of alcohol.

“Drink?” He asked Dolly as he poured himself a glass. She kindly rejected, and he turned his head towards you and Buckley as if asking you the same question. The boy thought about it for a second, his eyes shifting to you to see what you would land on. You smiled at him.

“Sure why not? Might be the first and last time I get to have a drink.” Buckley replied, leaving his spot on the couch to join Ramsey.

“What about you (n/n)?” Ramsey asked, swinging his glass around.

On one hand you wanted to try it, but on the other you feared since you hadn’t had any before, that you’d look like a fool drinking it for the first time. “I’ll have a sip from Buckley’s if that’s alright.”

The man nodded and poured another glass- for Pradain, you assumed. The Avoxes left, leaving the team to themselves.

“I just love the golden birds they give here.” Sashay sighed dreamily as she laid down on a couch beside the one you occupied. “So crispy, yet juicy.” She hummed.

Buckley’s stylist Winter Evermore was busy sketching away in their design book, occasionally piping into the conversation to agree or disagree with what Sashay was saying. The mentors seemed to be talking to each other, probably strategizing on what they were going to mentor you two about. Pradain had ants in his pants, or so it seemed, as he wandered across the room, barely sitting down, and if he did it was just for a second.

“This is crazy isn’t it? I mean- how do people live like this?” Buckley asked you as he reclined on the couch.

“Like what?” Came your reply as you too rested.

“They have all these lavish things they take for granted, and yet they still want more.” He added. “Look around you, seven couches and only two of them are being used, and what’s the point of having a kitchen if they’re gonna order food anyway?”

“Maybe it's so they can pretend like they’re doing something? I dunno.” You shrugged at him. “I miss home.”

“Yeah me too. It’s a shame only one of us can go back though.” He took a sip of his drink, flinching a bit at it’s bitter taste.

“Yeah…” You didn’t know how to reply to that.

“Wanna walk around?” The male tribute asked, his legs already placed on the floor as he stood up.

“Like? Around the Capitol?” You asked with uncertainty.

“No no- I meant like around the floor- maybe they have a golden toilet or something.” He took another sip of the drink as he scanned the room to make his choice of where you two would wander off to.

“Oh then.. In that case.” You also got up, leading for Rasmey to ask about your whereabouts.

“Where are you going?” He asked, Dolly also shooting a look at the two of you.

“To explore the floor.” Buckley said. He then shot out a chuckle, “Explore the floor- I rhymed.”

“Alright, just don’t cause any trouble.” Dolly said apprehensively.

“And don’t go ‘round tryin’ to escape. There’s no use.” Ramsey added.

“People have tried that?” You couldn’t believe it.

“You’d be surprised. They have this building and the outside crawling with peacekeepers.” He informed you.

Nodding you and Buckley both turned away, heading to the stairs that led up to a second floor within floor 10.

“So what did you think of the other tributes?” You asked.

“Not much.” He replied. “I meant like I didn’t really think of them at all. Too busy getting accustomed to the Capitol life.” He said, opening doors that led to a bedroom. “Woah.”

“I think this is actually the size of my house.” The two of you said in unison, gaining a laugh from each other.

“What did you think of them?” Buckley then asked as he fiddled with some remote control that changed the positon of the bed.

“They seem- like tough competition.” Came your reply. “Those careers- they seem almost animalistic.” You confessed.

“Pfft yeah, not to mention your little stalker.” Buckley noticed how Cato had been following you around since the incident on the chariot.

“I don’t get what he wants from me. He scares me.” You said honestly, “Wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the first one he goes for in the arena.”

“Don’t say that. He’s probably just intimidated by you.” Buckley tried to reassure you. “I mean, it’s not everyday a tribute from 10 pulls something like that on the first day.”

A smile broke out on your face. “Yeah you’re right. God I don't know what made me do it. It just felt right.” You exhaled.

“Sure looked right too.” Buckley said, patting your head with his man's hands.

“You know, I think you have a chance.” The room's lights were now blue as he messed with the remote some more.

“You think?” He said quietly.

“I know so. You’re one of the biggest guys here.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the smartest.” He replied with a hint of uncertainty. “I hope that you win if I don’t. It’d be nice to have a Victor from 10. Hell, it’d be nicer to know that I didn’t die for nothing.” That sentence said it all. He was afraid. This boy who you knew as wild and free spirited was scared. Buckley Wheaton, 10’s own golden boy was terrified. He too felt how you did, uncertain of your future.

“Oh Buck, come on.” Your hand was placed on his shoulder. “You don’t have to think like that. You can win, I know it. Ramsey sure as hell knows it.”

“What about you?” He asked, his large pupils fixated on yours. “You can win this too, you know, might take some work but you have a chance.”

“Maybe-” He interrupted you before you could speak.

“Maybe what? Look (y/n), I know your mother’s death faltered your spirit, but I know there’s still a fighter somewhere in there. You just gotta look.” His words seemed to stick in your head.

“Ok so then what if we both make it to the end? Then what?” You threw out a scenario you knew was most likely never going to happen.

“Then we’d have to wait for the game makers to kill one of us.” He put the remote back down. “Come on, lets go scope out the other rooms before the Avoxes get back with the food.”

“Oh is that where they went?” You asked, working to change the subject with him, but the exchange of words stayed echoing in both your heads.

The rest of floor 10 was occupied by bedrooms, bathrooms, and two recreational rooms. Buckley made it a goal to pee in every toilet he saw, and to lay on every bed and roll around in it. You admired how he tried to make the best of the worst situation possible. Eventually the Avoxes came back, rolling in carts filled with food. The mentors called the two of you back down.

“Hope you weren’t up there making the next generation of tributes.” Ramsey commented, causing Pradain to crackle out in laughter.

Sashay was applying more eyeshadow to her eyelids, but stopped to side eye the mentor.

“Oh no- we were just looking around.” Buckley defended.

“Right.” Responded Rasmey.

“Anyways, eat up kids, we’ve got a lot to go through.” Dolly ordered.

The clattering of silverware filled the room. You had a napkin placed on your lap, although it made more sense for it to be worn around your neck like a bib. Pradain had ordered fish of some kind, alongside some meats, and a vegetable soup. Also on the table were cupcakes, cookies, and breads, complemented by grapes, berries, and a watermelon.

“Are you a vegetarian dear? A vegan mayhaps?” Sashay questioned, noticing how you hadn’t touched any meat.

“What’s that?” Your blank stare said it all.

“Oh- well a vegetarian is a person who only eats vegetables, a vegan doesn’t eat any animal produced products.” She explained, raising her fork to her lips and chewing on a crunchy grape.

“No? Why?” You took a bite of one of the bread rolls and were immediately in heaven.

“Well, you haven’t had a singular helping of the beef.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she pointed to the plate.

“She doesn’t like to eat meat.” Dolly chimed in. “She worked at the Slaughterhouse back in 10.”

“Oh-” Sashay said with surprise.

“Speaking of which, how are your skills with a knife?” Dolly questioned. “You think it would be handy out in the arena? There a specific type you use?” She was thinking of ways to help you out in the arena.

“I never really thought about that. I wasn’t exactly the best employee.” You admitted.

“Stop being so humble. Humility won’t get you anywhere in this game.” She chewed on a tomato. “Look, and this goes for the both of you.”

Both you and Buckley turned your attention to her.

“When you’re training, you can’t let anybody see your strengths. You need to save those for the game makers.” The curly haired woman had a serious expression on her face, and suddenly you were whisked back to reality. “During training you need to focus on learning new skills, make sure you work on survival skills, and if possible make an alliance or two, and make sure to go through the food identification stations.” Her words were straight and to the point. “You got that?’

“Right, so survival, new skills, no showing off?” You repeated.

Dolly nodded her head. Ramsey began to speak up, talking about how to pick and choose alliances.

“Don’t go for the careers. At least not immediately. Trust. Your. Gut.” He spoke.

“You never know when someone will switch up on you.” Dolly said. You knew she was speaking from experience since when she went in, she started off in an alliance with tributes from 4, but they quickly turned on her, nearly killing her towards the end of her games.

“What about evaluations?” Buckley questioned.

“You’re gonna want to choose something you’re exceptional at. The higher the score the more sponsors.” Dolly explained.

The more chances of the careers targeting you too. You thought to yourself.

The two hours of mentoring went by slower than you anticipated. A lot of the tips they were giving the two of you were to not be dumb, not attract attention to yourselves, and to work together until the final 5 if you so chose to. Halfway through you all tuned in to the Capitol game’s channel to see the specs of the other tributes. You learned their faces, their names, and where they came from. Needless to say, this year's pool of tributes was a diverse one with kids as small as 12, to the teens around you and Buckley’s age. What really caught your eye was the pair from 12. There seemed to be something different about them, yet you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

As night time settled in, you found yourself pacing around your room. You did everything to calm your nerves: you changed the window’s display to a river, then an arctic tundra, and finally set it to a prairie- you tried drinking some water to calm you down, you even opted for climbing up and down the stairs to tire yourself out. It wasn’t until Pradain came out of his room claiming you were disturbing his beauty sleep, that you found something to keep you occupied.

“We don’t really tell the tributes this, because well there’s no point in it really since they all want to spend time with their mentors to try not to die in the arena- but..” Pradain came closer to your face. “They allow tributes to roam the building, you know, to form alliances, enjoy the Capitol while they can, try on some clothes if they’d like..” His words piqued your interest. “Just don’t try to escape, and don’t tell them I told you about this, especially if you get in trouble.” He said as he groggily returned to his room.

Immediately you walked to Buckley’s room, hoping he’d still be awake to accept your invite to roam the tribute building. Much to your dismay he was sound asleep, his snores sounded like a bear’s, making you laugh as you went back downstairs.

You quietly pressed the first floor button on the elevator, hoping that the sound wouldn’t wake up Dolly or Ramsey. Of course you felt nervous as you walked into the elevator, you hoped that you hadn’t just put yourself in danger. How were you even sure that Pradain was telling the truth? As if on cue your doubts started to flood your mind. You watched anxiously as the floor numbers depleted going from 9 to 5 in the span of a minute. Taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for whatever awaited you on the other side, you stood up straight.

Bing!

No one.

There was practically no one on the first floor except for maybe a few receptionists. As you wandered around you took the path most familiar to you. It looked more peaceful when there weren’t tributes rushing around. You could see the doors leading to where the parade took place, the entrances to the grooming and styling stations, and the largest door of all the entrance, guarded by a whole troop of peace keepers. They seemed to keep a close eye on you as you wandered around the large first floor.

Lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the boy approaching you from your left. A hand grabbed onto your forearm, causing you to jolt like a scared lamb. This is it you thought. I’m dead. As you turned around to face whoever it was holding onto your arm you were met with a smile.

“Woah- hey! Calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Yet. You could hear him say that word even though he hadn’t actually spoken it. It was the tribute from district 1. He let go of your arm, and you turned your whole body to face him in a defensive stance.

“I see you found out that we’re free to roam as long as we don’t try to escape.” He said almost impressed. He was no longer wearing his ridiculous pink outfit, instead he wore a gray shirt and some dark pants. He was a little taller than you, but definitely shorter than Buckley.

“I did.” Your response was quick and short. You weren’t sure what he wanted from you but you weren’t going to sit around and find out.

“I’m Marvel.” He stuck his hand out to you, it was littered with scars, yet his nails looked polished. He was a career after all, they’re conditioned to be killing machines while living in the wealthier districts. You found irony in that. It was like teaching a porcelain doll how to fight.

“(Y/n)” You said, taking his hand and shaking it. His hands were colder than yours, in fact they felt as if he had been holding ice before he came to approach you.

“So 10 huh? That must suck what’s it like?” Immediately you felt insulted. Marvel could tell he did something wrong and rapidly tried to change the subject. “How’d you learn to ride a horse by the way? I thought the Capitol didn’t allow for that anymore?”

Boy he sure did ask a lot of questions. “My mother taught me.” You didn’t bother getting into your whole backstory of how you came to love the creatures. “10 isn’t so bad, you know.” You felt like you had to defend your home. “Weather’s a bit dry, but it’s beautiful. At least it’s actually got color to it.”

Marvel seemed taken aback, his mouth was formed into an open smile the whole time, waiting for his turn to talk. “Is that so?” He spoke, changing his voice to speak in some weird accent.

“Why are you talking like that?” Came your blunt question. The two of you were mostly alone in the main lobby, which made your voices echo through the room as you spoke to each other.

“Like what?” He said, still speaking in that weird accent. “Oh this? Just tryin’ out your accent is all.” He said with a smirk.

“What? I don’t sound like that.” You didn’t sound like that right? You hoped you didn’t. You felt embarrassed and the lighting didn’t help, making you feel more nervous.

“Sure you don’t.” He shrugged playfully as his voice returned to normal.

“Where’s your partner?” You had noticed the lack of Glimmer. The last time you’d seen Marvel, he had been dragged away by the blonde girl.

“Probably flirting with my mentor. I don’t know. Hey, why don’t we walk together?” He suggested.

“No, I was actually going back up.” You said stepping back.

“Oh come on- how many times are you going to be able to be back here?” He asked, trying to convince you to stroll around with him. “You know- if we can get a peace keeper to escort us around, we might even be able to walk around the Capitol.” He mentioned.

“You know, I think you must be really bored if you’re considering taking a nightly stroll with your competitor.” Your words seemed to strike something with him.

“I was just trying to be friendly.” He said, looking a little hurt as he walked away. You weren’t sure where he was going, and frankly you didn't care all too much.

“Making enemies already?” A deep voice spoke from behind you.

Your blood ran cold. You immediately knew who it was. Not bothering to turn around, you took a deep breath and kept walking to the doors of the stylist’s quarters. Pradain had mentioned something about trying on clothes.

“I’m talking to you 10.” The voice came again. “I wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of me if I were you.” He said, causing you to turn around and face him.

“Save the threats for the arena.” You stood your ground, trying not to cower in his presence like he expected you to do. Buckley’s words came rushing back to you. He was right. You had lost your spark somewhere around the time your mother died and you needed it back. Desperately. Especially since you were to be thrown into an arena with people like Cato.

“Well why rely on threats when I can use actions?” He replied, stepping closer. “What are you doing down here anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be begging your mentors for tips on how to not die?”

“I came down here because I wanted to- wait. I don’t have to tell you my business. You know what? While I’m at it- why the hell d’ya keep looking at me like that?” Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was a splash of bravery. Or maybe it was the gulps of alcohol you had taken from Buckley’s cup. The cause wasn’t clear, but you felt violent.

Oh how you wanted to slap that smirk off his face. That one signature smirk of his that seemed to crawl on his face whenever you would do something that satisfied or entertained him.

“Like what?” He leaned towards your eye level as if to provoke you.

All you could do was stare him down. From the corner of your eye you could see a few peacekeepers shuffling around, ready to pounce on the two of you at any given moment. He chuckled and returned to his normal posture.

“Well don’t let me stop you. Go on- enjoy your wandering.” He crossed his arms as he waited for you to leave.

“Cato? Where are Marvel and Glimmer?” Clove’s voice entered the room as she stepped off the elevator. “And what is she doing here? I don’t remember inviting her.” Her voice was laced with venom.

“Don’t mind her, she was just leaving. Right 10?” He said, his voice trying to intimidate you.

You said nothing but glared at him as you left. Your night had been spoiled by the careers yet again, and you were starting to wonder if you’d ever catch a break from them. As you entered the elevator back to floor 10, you could see Cato’s mocking waves as you went up.

God how you hated him.

-----

Tags: @randomgurl2326

#xreader #fanfic #74th hunger games #cato hadley #katniss everdeen #reader insert #marvel #the hunger games fanfiction #district 10 #peeta mellark #romance #enemies to lovers #thg

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