Cato Hadley - Tumblr Posts
CATO/KATNISS:
Thaw by DustInTheWind
Cato wins the 74rd Hunger Games and is a mentor for the 75th. Katniss is reaped for the 75th. The quell twist is that mentors have to mentor a kid from a different district.
Overall a very good read. I personally think it's my favorite Catoniss fic. It's well developed, complete and over 80k. The characterization is amazing.
Into The Black by DustInTheWind
Katniss and Cato both win the 74th hunger games. Neither are happy with it. He's determined to kill her until he realizes he's been lied to. Winning is a different type of hell. In order to bring on a rebellion he and the girl on fire both enter the quell hoping to give the audience something to rebel for.
If you like this pairing it's amazing. Check the tags and trigger warnings but this is by far my favorite Catoniss author.
Reblog if you too have a playlist dedicated to a fictional character or are you normal?
“I hate everyone except you”
Fem!reader x Cato hadley
Trope: Friends to lovers
Cato - orange
Reader - pink
(Not spellchecked lmk of mistakes)
Warnings: Swearing, fluff
I felt the cold tile of the capitol building beneath my feet as i’m walking down the hallway. My room is next to Cato’s since we’re from the same district so it wasn’t too far. Though it was probably a bad idea since it’s currently 11 o’clock at night, I knocked on his door. After a few seconds I heard the sound of footsteps come closer, He opened the door “can’t sleep?” he said as he motioned me to come in
“nope, same for you?”
“yea”
there was a long pause as we layed down on his bed and he wrapped his arms around me. I’ve always been close with Cato so it was nothing new, I guess neither of us thought anything of it, since it was just about the only comfort we’ve ever had. Even though we’re not really poor in district two its still all about the hunger games and training so I guess we feel somewhat normal when we’re together
“how do you feel? about everything”
“i feel…scared”
Cato’s never one to be scared about anything and i’ve only seen it happen a few times before, even on the train ride here he was oddly calm but I decided not to mention it
“yea same. I know i’m not gonna make it out of that arena but that means you have to”
I watched his face wrinkle up as he gave me a weird look
“what the fuck do you mean? you’re the best fighter I know, you can’t possibly think that”
“Cato only one person can make it out and you’re better than me. Im only 16 and you’ve got a year on me, that’s an extra year of training. I’m okay with not making it if you do”
I’m not a bad fighter by any means but he’s a lot better than me and he knows it
“I don’t wanna talk about it right now, this is the only peace we’re gonna have until WE make it out. We can both make it i know we can”
“okay”
I said even though i didn’t understand how that would be possible. There was a long pause as i raked through my feelings. I felt different today, and not just because of the games
“cato?”
“yea?”
I sat up on the bed and watched his confused expression
“i love you”
I said as i kissed him for the first time
“i love you too y/n”
He said as he kissed me back
“promise?”
“I promise. I hate everyone except you”
And for the first time ever i actually believed it when someone told me they loved me
Authors note: AHHH THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER???? I kinda like it but idk so let me know how you guys feel! love you 🫶🏻
This us how I imagine it yes
Somewhere in Panem with the victors the 74th year
Katniss climbing the tree
Gloss: Really Haymitch, this is the girl that got an 11 as a training score??
Cato falls
Haymitch: At least she got up the fuckin tree.
Cashmere: It’s fine someone else will get her.
None if the carriers climbing
Enobaria: You gotta be kidding me.
Johanna and Finnick join on the couch
Johanna: Even Finnick’s kids could climb a fucking tree,
Finnick hiding laughter
Brutus: At least our kids made it past the blood bath, can’t say the same for either of yours.
Johanna: I bet you wish they’d kept one of mine around right about now.
Gloss: its fine, she’s a sitting duck, they can just shoot her, its not like she can dodge it, or move.
Glimmer misses shot
Haymitch: Did that girl ever hit any target with her arrow? Because mine did.
Cashmere: We told her to grab a short distance weapon, she has no aim.
Enobaria: that’s embarrassing, for the careers. Cato will get her, he doesn’t miss.
Cato fires arrow and misses
Brutus: Oh my god, I can’t watch this, im getting second hand embarrassment.
Haymitch: Can none of your kids climb a tree???
Cashmere: I guess not.
Marvel throws spear and misses
Finnick: None of them can aim either, this is just sad
Peeta: lets wait her out, she has to come down at some point.
Haymitch laughing hysterically,
Some time later
Katniss starting to cut down tracker jackers
Gloss: Did all our kids seriously fall asleep,
Cashmere rubbing her temples: Yea, they did
Johanna: Who sleeps that heavily in the arena??? Shes making so much noise how are they not awake?
Enobaria: She’s gonna die from those jackers before that nest falls,
Nest falls and careers scatter
Brutus: I need another drink,
Glimmer dies
Johanna: HAH HOW DOES IT FEEL HAVING YOUR CAREER BE TAKEN OUT BY THE DISTRICT 12 GIRL!
Cashmere: no comment,
Some more time later
Katniss plots with rue to blow up food
Gloss: they aren’t gonna fall for that.
They fall for it
Haymitch: you were saying?
Enobaria: This year sucks
Katniss kills Marvel
Johanna (drunk) : HAH BOTH OF YOUR TRIBUTES TAKEN OUT BY THE 12 GIRL!
Gloss: Ok im leaving now.
Cashmere: yea i think im also gonna head out…
Johanna (drunk): LOOSERS HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!
Finnick: ok Jo, come on, that’s enough for you,
Takes her alcohol
Johanna: no fairrrr, you never take Haymitch’s alcohol
Haymitch: he knows not to mess with me
Finnick: Every time you get drunk, you end up in a fist fight, or breaking something, or both, Haymitch just passes out.
Johanna: OH WHAT YOU WANNA FIGHT LETS FIGHT!
Finnick picks Jo up and carries her to the elevator as she continues screaming and fighting
Haymitch to Brutus and Enobaria: Haha, your tributes arent as cool as mineeee,
Brutus: at least our girl doesn’t look like she wants to vomit getting close to her supposed lover.
Finnick returns
Enobaria: that was fast?
Finnick: I locked her in her bathroom,
Haymitch: Didn’t she just break down the door last time?
Finnick: I handcuffed one of her hands to the pipes and the other to the door.
Elevator doors open revealing Johanna, drenched in water, still handcuffed to a pipe, and the door.
Finnick: I give up. *sits down*
Brutus: what the fuck is wrong with you.
Both Finnick and Jo simultaneously: A lot.
Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 8
Summary: The games begin
A/n:Long time no see! I guess this is considered a slow burn since I haven't really given much Cato content yet lol, but it's planned! If you want to listen to something while reading I reccomend the civil wars, and definetely their song with Taylor Swift lol
Pt.7Pt.6Pt.5 Pt.4 Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1
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Chapter 8: The Arena Pt. 1
You couldn’t eat. As if that was new.
The table in front of you was decorated in an arrangement of multicolored foods, all in the shape of a big 10. The dining room was silent, even Pradain was drowned out by the silence and his whiskey. Dolly and Ramsey looked tense, somber even. Buckley of course was attempting to eat what he could, but even he struggled to keep it down.
“Thank you.” It was a shock for you to speak first. Dolly looked confused for a second before her expression warmed.
“Now don’t go thanking us for anything.” She reached for a table cloth and drink, as if to hide the fact she needed to wipe her forming tears.
In approximately one hour you’d be headed to the slaughterhouse. Waiting to die of starvation, disease, or lord forbid it- murder. You’d only hope Buckely would make it out alive or meet a peaceful end.
Ramsey inhaled, setting his fork on the table. “You two really are something’ special. ‘S been an honor to work with the two of ya.” He managed to croak out, keeping his stoic demeanor even though it warbled.
Pradain let out a fit of laughter before it turned to chortled sobbing, Sashay was quick to comfort him.
How did the Capitol expect teams to rejoice before sending their tributes to their death? It was sick.
“I consulted a psychic medium.” Sashay piped up, using her fork to scoop up a block of cheese. “He told me that we’ve got a shot of winning. Something about a leaf with speckled dots of white.”
“A Gragale?” Pradain spoke, sniffling his nose in a handkerchief. “Those aren’t edible.”
The meal passed on with some somber conversation looking back at what your time at the Capitol had been like. A few tips and advice were thrown, a prayer or five may have been said, eventually you drowned it all out, refusing to look at the boy with cow like eyes.
It was clear you weren’t the only one having internal conflict as he wasn’t his usual bubbly self. Painful, disheartening, heart wrenching, it was.
30 minutes.
20 minutes.
10 minutes.
When the Peacekeepers arrived they informed the two of you about choosing someone to send you off. Pradain and Sashay stepped off to the side after saying their final farewells to the both of you, leaving Ramsey and Dolly on the sidelines, waiting for who would speak first.
“Dolly?” His voice was hoarse despite drinking liquids the whole time at the table. Buckley looked around awkwardly. For once it felt like the two of you were strangers again. You didn’t like it.
Dolly instantly stepped toward you, giving you a hug that could have squeezed your organs out. “Go get em’ cowgirl.” She kissed your cheeks and let go, her lashes soaked with tears as she went over to the tall boy to comfort him.
You looked at Ramsey and he immediately knew. Stepping close he placed a hand on your shoulder squeezing it as he pat you on the back with his other hand. “Alright, let’s do this.”
The Peacekeepers did a thorough search, both on you and Buckley, and your mentors. Something about stabbing attempts back in the 50th games. Your pulse was fast, eyes glued open as you tried to not cry. You couldn’t. Not now. Not now. Not now.
The trip was silent, the peacekeepers informing the group about what would take place once on the transportation craft to the arena. Occasionally your sad eyes would meet Buckley’s clashing momentarily before disappearing.
Dolly and Ramsey were set off to the side while the two of you were ushered into the craft, sat toward the end.
Everyone else had already been seated for the most part, 11 and 12 behind you as they filled in. Cato had a Capitol worker stabbing his arm with something, it looked painful, but he didn’t flinch.
He was what scared you the most. Something about him wasn’t right. You needed to steer clear of him, or get rid of him.
“Arm.” They’d gotten to you quick. Reluctantly sticking your arm out you waited for the stinging of the needle. It pinched, and you felt a weird chill down your spine. What the hell had they put into you? Surely it couldn’t be some weird drug or enhancement right?
Your question was answered when the girl from 12 asked. A tracker. Of course they’d track you. At least now you knew how they kept track of the deaths and tributes.
If you made it out, your prayers would be replaced with asking for the downfall of Coriolanus Snow.
Looking to the left you unintentionally greeted the jolly blonde, his void expression perked into a small grin, barely noticeable but there. Waving his head subtly he turned to look in front of him, leaving you with a squint on your face. He was also a threat. Albeit not as much as Cato. Either way, you had to profile everyone now. There could be a diamond in the rough, someone here who could pounce on you if not accounted for.
You’ve seen how that lumberjack girl mangled those tributes.
“We’re landing I think.” You heard a girl comfort her fellow tribute.
As if your stomach couldn’t knot up more. Sure enough a sound of air decompressing echoed as the hinge of the craft lowered, revealing the troop of peacekeepers ready to escort everyone to the arena. The peacekeepers herded you all into lines. Cato’s humongous form hovered over everyone’s and it really set in. The only one challenging his dominance was the guy from 11, but even then he seemed like he had morals unlike the blonde in front of the craft.
“Goodluck.” Buckley reeled you out of your thoughts, his face forward and hands at his side.
Forcing a smile that looked like you were about to cry, you reciprocate the sentiment. “Goodluck.”
This was it, the last moments of peace you’d get for a while. Your peacekeeper didn’t seem to know their own strength since their hand bruised your arm. Another one was already waiting in the room, a large tube at the center and Ramsey standing at the side of it.
“Three minutes.” The peacekeeper let go, hurdling you to Ramsey who caught you in his arms.
“Hey it’s ok. It’s ok.” The facade had broken. You heaved like an asthmatic in a desert, your face twisted like a sun dried tomato as you hiccuped the tears out of your eyes.
He squeezed you, whispering reassurance to your soul. “Come on (Y/n), come on girl, gotta be tough. You’re gonna make it out. You’re gonna beat this bitch of a game.” His shirt got flooded by your tears, the agony left on him as a remnant of who you were.
“I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I want to go home! Please! Please!” You clawed at his shirt feeling yourself revert to a toddler for a moment. All you wanted was to be home with Amaranto and your father, huddled together at the dinner table, debriefing about each other’s days before heading to the yard to check on the stray cats that lived nearby. Hell, you’d rather be in the butchery helping out with the dirty pans and tins.
Ramsey looked just as distraught, face faltering. He caught you and rubbed your back, “(y/n), listen to me. You need to remember what we went over, protect yourself and if god wills it Buckley. Don’t make new enemies, save your ass, woman up, and win. I’ll see you in the Victor’s Village ok? You’ve got this sweetie, You’re from goddamned district 10.” He held your face in his rough hands, eyes intense but caring, like a father grounding his daughter back to reality.
All you did was nod. Nod and wipe the tears off your face. He was right. Right?
Right.
“Okay. Okay.” You placed your hands over his and he pulled you into a hug before the Peacekeepers yanked you to the tube.
“Focus! Lasso! Lasso!” He reminded you before his voice got muffled. The peacekeepers ushered him out, leaving you scared and alone in the tube.
Your breath fogged up the tube, you hadn’t realized how fast you were breathing. The dusty brown windbreaker didn’t help, it only pooled your sweat, making it uncomfortable. The boots were new, but at what cost? They’d only be a bother in the long run until you could break them in. If you even lived long enough to do so. You cursed the issued clothes you’d receive, whoever designed it decided rustic colors would do you good. You only hoped you could blend into the arena.
Oh shit! The arena. You’d been preoccupied with dying that you didn’t even consider what the terrain was like. Judging by what they gave you it couldn't be water based. At least you hoped not. You’d be dead in an instant.
Desert?
Forest?
Snowy Tundra?
Coliseum?
The possibilities were endless.
As the tube reeled you upwards toward the arena, your stomach fought to keep its contents inside. The sky looked blue, a gloomy blue. Bad sign. You were used to the sunny orange landscapes of 10. Your hands shook as they reached out to the glass tube, catching your footing as you began to look around.
Green everywhere, trees taller than the mountains, birds flying over and other scared tributes. It reminded you of the time your school had a dance. It was middle school and everyone had just discovered puberty. Scared boys staring at petrified girls, no one dancing, peacekeepers at the edge bored and uninterested. But that was a dance. This was punishment for something you didn’t do.
Heaving you turned around to face the center. The tubes slowly lowered as you searched the circle for Buckley. He was across from you, already having found you. He looked just as frantic. Aside from you was a girl from 10 and 5. The careers were honed in on the middle of the arena, bloodthirst in their faces. They hardly looked scared.
A cannon began to sound, causing some of the tributes to jump. From your distance you could see some of the supplies. Mostly weapons, some food, gear, and more weapons. Ramsey had specifically warned the two of you multiple times to not head toward the middle. He said it was a death wish.
Eventually a voice started counting down, and you practically threw up. Your hands came to cover your mouth. Surely your eyes were popping out of your face. Breathing in you tried to focus on the voice, scanning the area you made a plan. Run. You could always come back, milk your accent, get sponsors. You’d be fine as long as you made it out.
It didn’t process in your mind yet that people had started running. It wasn’t until you saw Cato slit someone’s throat that you realized the games had started. Frozen in place you screamed, trying to move away. Tributes ran, some stayed to swipe weapons- a chance to survive. Somehow in the span of three seconds the careers had secured their base. It all happened so fast, your mind hurt trying to register everything. Even the screams of agony were flushed out.
“(Y/n)!” Snapping out of your trance you stepped back, one foot over the other, turning to run away. Looking back you saw it was Buckley who called your name, or moreso scolded you for standing there like a dumbass. He had a pack in his hands, inches away from the blood bath. You managed to catch him leave, run off to the opposite side of the arena.
A spear flung clumsily to you, missing you by a good 10 inches. Expecting to see Marvel, you were surprised it was some scrawny kid. Pleading for your feet to carry you further, you sprinted into the brush, the grass beneath you crushing, picking up mud as you ran away. You wouldn’t stop, not until you were sure you were safe, alone for miles.
Five minutes in and already half of the kids you came in with were dead, Buckley was gone, and you had nothing. Needless to say the odds were looking grim.
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Tags: @randomgurl2326