Leviathan

I write fan-fiction on here | request open

[leviathansshadycorner]

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

[leviathansshadycorner]

When are you going to update your hunger games series!! It's so good! No rush btw, just asking!!

HI!!!! Sorry!! I do have half of the latest chapter in my drafts but I just haven't had time to finish it (´;︵;`) For sure though, like once I get all my college stuff sorted out lol I'll update it

Haven't given up on it yet!!! Just on the back burner for a little bit!! Hopefully it'll be out by the first week of march or sooner! (⁀ᗢ⁀)

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 7

Summary: Interview

A/n: Sorry for any inconsistencies and spelling errors, enjoyyyyyy!

Pt.6Pt.5 Pt.4 Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1

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Chapter 7: Interview

The games were Tomorrow. Today was your last day of peace and possibly life. Most of the time today was supposed to be spent preparing for the interview, however, Dolly and Rasmey gave you two or three hours of bliss before having to prepare. 

You were positive Buckley was out in the rose garden with Dolly. It was only natural for him to want to be outside instead of cooped in like you. Ramsey had come in to check on you twice but eventually stopped when he assumed you were sleeping. In reality, you were crying. Crying the whole two hours mourning the fact that you’d never get to see the faces of your family again. 

You remembered Amaranto and how the two of you would’ve been having breakfast together at this time. Or how you would have packed your Pa a lunch to take to work. You thought about those Sunday afternoons spent sitting on the dry grass with a blanket, just the three of you talking about life and reminiscing about your mother, occasionally eating something special when they’d work overtime. 

You thought about the times you spent with Clarabell in the angry rivers, scared out of your mind that a peacekeeper would come and hurt you both, but having so much fun in the water that you forgot that they even existed in the first place. 

Your mind went to Buckley. It was crazy how you went from greeting each other in the morning at school to being with each other every day. He looked out of place in the Capitol, and so did you. It was odd seeing someone from home on the screen, but you guessed that’s how he felt about you too. The two of you had grown closer than you would have ever at home. That’s when you started realizing that you should’ve appreciated everything you had at home instead of slowly isolating yourself as you grew up. 

Wiping the snot from your nose you decided to get up and wash your face. The clock read 12, and that meant it was time for your mentors to get you interview-ready. The actual interview itself was to start at 6 pm. However, you still had to practice your speech and what you were going to say to several different questions. The whole point was to make you appealing to not only the sponsors but the Capitol as a whole. After all, the sooner the tributes get used to the Capitol’s mannerisms, the better the victor will adapt. 

“Alright, let's try this again.” It had been thirteen minutes and Pradain was still struggling to get you to sit up straight. 

“Come on, we started an hour ago, I’m sure they can learn how to sit up straight later. What’s important is that we get them to speak clearly and with charm.” Dolly protested as Pradain pressed a hand to your back to get you upright. 

Pradain’s outfit consisted of satin gloves, and a matching dress that towered to his ankles, his feet adorned with five-inch  platforms. It was beyond you how he had learned to walk in those. 

“Don’t be ridiculous Dolly, this is a must when it comes to Capitol mannerisms. Now up!” Groaning you forcefully sat up, your shoulders still drooping.

“Ah! See- I thought you were shaped weird, but you’re just not lifting your shoulders.” He clasped his hands onto them, bringing them up and fixing your head’s posture. “See? That wasn’t too bad. Now let’s do it again.” He instructed, 

You looked over at Buckley- who had a scarf tied around him and the chair, propping him up straight. “I think I got it.” The poor boy pleaded to be untied. 

“You stay. And you,” He pointed at you, “Up!” 

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “Alright well, I’m just gonna go ahead and start reading these questions. Ramsey was already dressed in his suit claiming that he didn’t want to put it on later, so he decided to put it on now. 

He shuffled through some cards with common interview questions. “Alright, Buck-o this one’s for you. How would you describe home?” 

Buckley perked up, “Easy- Home is-” 

“AH! This isn’t a test, it's an interview. Tell them why you like home, what makes it special. Start with, ‘Well, home to me is-’” Pradain scolded Buckley. 

“Right, ok.” He nodded and looked at Ramsey to reread the card. 

“How would you describe home?” You looked over at Dolly, your face bored and uninterested. She noticed it and ushered you to pay attention to Buckley, sitting up straight which reminded you to sit up as well. Your back was on fire, you always thought you had an okay posture, but only now knew that it was too forward leaning. 

“Home to me is..” He stopped to think, his nose twitching as he was lost in thought, “Home to me is the yellow sunset, the dirt on my boots after a long day of work, the voices of my siblings arguing over a small toy, the pretty girls fluttering their eyelashes at me, the way their hair falls on their shoulders, and how round their-” 

“Okay, no stop- you’re getting distracted.” You laughed at Buckley’s response, starting nicely but going off-topic. 

“Alright then, at least you’ll make them laugh. You’ve got a good voice too Buckley, nice start.” Dolly tried making the best of things. 

“Same Question for you (Y/n). How would you describe home?” Ramsey put the cards down, his tired eyes looking at you as he waited for your response. 

“Any time now.” Spoke up Pradain. 

“Home to me is…Home to me is.” There was about a three-second pause, “My Brother. My Pa. Our little house by the wheat fields, and the river that runs through 10.” It wasn’t much, but it’s all that could come to mind. 

“That’s a start.” Dolly smiled. 

“We need you to say more, and don’t be afraid to get emotional, the Capitol loves that. They eat it up.” Ramsey crossed his legs. “We’re gonna have a long day.” He sighed. 

4 pm came quicker than anticipated. In the period you’d been practicing you were able to learn to project your voice, and Buckley learned how to be quieter. The two of you learned some fancy words, though you doubted you’d use them in a genuine sentence. 

Sashay and the rest of the stylists waited for you down at the stylist quarters where you were ready to get replucked like a chicken. It didn’t hurt as much as the first time, but the stinging feeling was still there. After you got bathed, they began working on your hair. Its (H/c) color being amplified and made brighter as they put some chemicals on it. It smelled foul, far worse than the cow poop at home. 

Your nails were painted black and white, You mentally groaned knowing where this was going. When your hair was finally dried they worked to braid it, putting some turquoise accessories on you before handing you to Sashay. 

She smiled brightly at you and kissed your cheek, “My my don’t you look beautiful.” She complimented taking your hand and leading you to the hanger where a long sleek cow print dress hung. It looked to have fur on it, and you assumed it’d come from home. 

“You’re going to look amazing.” She said excitedly as she instructed you to take your robe off. Sashay herself was dressed in all black, contrasting with what Dolly was wearing- white. You assumed the whole theme surrounding 10 would be cow print, and you were right. She helped you put the dress on, making some adjustments while it was on you so it would hug your figure better. It draped down longer on one end, the other end having a slit and exposing much of your leg. Below you wore some high-heeled boots that you thought looked ridiculous, but Sashay seemed enamored by them. She adjusted a belt on your hips- also containing hints of turquoise, and finally a necklace on you, tying the look together. 

“Oh!” She sighed clasping her hands together, “(Y/n), when you go home I guarantee you every man will want your hand in marriage.” She cooed as she circled you. “Perfect, now all we need is makeup.” The lady sat you down for another hour and a half of makeup application. You liked Sashay, she was more level-headed than Pradain and had such eloquence to her, however, the mix of having to speak in front of millions, and the games being tomorrow was not settling in right. Ramsey had to ask Pradain for a pill that would calm down your stomach. 

Sashay was escorting you out to the backstage area where Dolly and Ramsey were waiting. Ramsey was wearing black, Pradain opting to wear white, both of them sticking to the theme Pradain and Sashay had planned. You looked around for Buckley but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Wow.” Ramsey let out a long whistle, “You do not look like yourself at all.” He said admiring Sashay’s work. 

“(Y/n), you look stunning.” Dolly’s mouth was agape as she went to hold your arm and observe you. Your hair had been taken out of the braids, leaving behind curls in its place. 

“I can’t walk in these.” You whispered to her frantically. You didn’t want to fall on stage, but that seemed like something that would happen in your near future. 

She laughed, her smokey eyes closing making it look like she had hollowed eyes, “It’ll be fine, just try not to think about it.” She assured you. 

The stage was light as people began to flood the venue. There were stagehands all over the place, getting things set and ready. More tributes flowed in, you shrank back when you realized how extra Sashay had been with your interview gown since the others looked to be more playful and simple. People kept staring at you as they walked in, and that was a bad thing in your book. Eventually, Buckley came in. His stylist next to him as they chatted about god knows what. When he spotted you he froze slightly, keeping his gaze on you as they made their way to the group.

His hair was slicked back, his face looking more square but in a good way. He had some makeup on, but it was only to even out his tone, his freckles had been redrawn over his real ones since the base of his makeup had covered them. He wore a black suit, with hints of cow print on the inner side and flaps that poked out towards the neck of the suit. His boots matched yours, and he had a belt as big as one of the screens on. The two of you looked like you ran some sort of Texan Casino. 

“(Y/n), You look beautiful.” He complimented, his hands taking yours as he made you spin. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”  He said light-heartedly. 

Buckley’s attention made you flustered and you felt the room get warmer, “I could say the same,” You smiled, “Have you seen your hair?” You asked carefully, poking his gel-held hair. 

“Alright well, we’ll be out in the front row. Look for us alright?” Sashay excused herself and Pradain, leaving the two of you with Dolly and Rasmey. 

“They’re gonna line you up again, two lines- boys and girls.” Ramsey explained, “There’s a screen back here so y’all can watch but don’t miss your cue alright?” He ordered. The two of you nodded. 

“(Y/n), remember what we went over alright?” Dolly caught your gaze. 

Previously you’d spent time with Dolly going over some things you could do to emphasize your image as the Capitol’s cowgirl. Dolly had instructed you to speak with more southern twang than usual, keep a smile and hospitable personality, and speak on the livestock and ‘ranch life’ back at home. All things that would make a District 10 resident roll their eyes, but a Capitol citizen clap and shout. Unfortunately for you, you knew that this whole act would blow up in your face. You wouldn’t get taken seriously by the tributes, and if the small chance of you winning existed, you’d have to keep up the stereotype. 

Your mentors left you to take their seats. There was about an hour until show time, and some makeup artists stuck back to touch up some of the tributes. You and Buckley paced around the backstage, practicing lines with each other, and working on pronunciation. You hadn’t even noticed that the careers had flowed in. Glimmer was wearing a pink poofy dress, far too short for her. The only thing that distracted from her body was her giant blonde hair that cascaded perfectly, but even then she wore body glitter that made her shine. Clove on the other hand wore an orange dress and a hairdo that puffed the top part of her hair up. The two looked at you and laughed, making it obvious that they were laughing at your gown. You couldn’t blame them though. You would’ve laughed at yourself too. Buckley defensively went to stand in front of you to block their view, but it didn’t do much since they’d have to walk past you anyway. 

Behind them came Marvel and Cato. Both their faces were serious as always as they discussed something about weapon quality. You paid no mind to them, knowing that if you did they’d find a way to cause a scene. You weren’t sure why you were their favorite tribute to a bug, but you blamed it all on your stunt on your first day here. As they walked closer Marvel patted Cato on his chest, and the taller male turned to look at where you were standing. 

“Damn, never knew the girls from District 10 could look like that,” Cato said as they walked past the two of you, pretending to be nonchalant although you knew he had purposely said it. 

“Nice dress 10,” Marvel said, eyeing you as he trailed behind Cato. The two of them shook their heads and laughed as they approached the front of the line. 

“If I were a career I think I’d go after those two first.” You told Buckley who gave you an amused smile. 

“If you were a career you’d be with them.” He corrected. It wasn’t far from the truth. In almost every game, the careers were quick to form alliances with each other, alienating the weak from the strong. 

“You ready for the spotlight?” Talking was something you’ve come to realize that you did when you were nervous. Your hand practically shook, and you wore a nervous smile on your face. It was involuntarily there, however as much as you tried you couldn’t get rid of it. 

“No.” His simple reply. “Not too thrilled about it.” He exhaled. He had been holding a straight posture, his shoulders up, turtling his neck. 

“They’ll love you.” You reassured, but it only made him smile, his nerves still present.

 “Just don’t want to be laughed at.” He mentioned. 

The lights were beginning to flicker, meaning that it would soon be time for the show to start. 

You thought about what he had said. “Trust me. No one’s going to laugh at you.” Dolly and you had trained for your interview. Everything you were instructed to say made you look like a country bumpkin. If anything Buckley would be District 10’s saving grace- and you its fool. 

“Wow. You look beautiful.” Came the voice of District 12’s Katniss. It sounded rehearsed, void of any emotion. The same went for the smile she threw at you. 

You returned it and bowed your head. “Please, you’re the one who deserves such praise.” You guessed she was only saying that because her mentors wanted her to make allies in the arena since her high score presented a problem. 

That was the entirety of the exchange. The stage managers lined everyone up in order of appearance, hushing them as the presentation started. Once again you found the insides of your palms to be sweaty. You tried everything to ease your beating heart, deep breaths, pinching yourself, thinking of other things. However, none of them got rid of the sensation in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. 

Up on the screen Caesar Flickerman’s silhouette appeared, his signature ponytail obnoxiously hanging from his head as he leaned back on the chair. His theme song played, the bass so loud you could feel the floor rumbling. Cheers from the crowd erupted. Buckley stood attentive, watching the screen with his hands on his belt, his stance wide to keep himself in balance. From where you stood you could see Marvel and Cato hyping each other up, Glimmer joining in to fix Cato’s neat suit. 

“Let’s bring her out!” It had been a good couple of minutes, though it seemed like seconds as Caesar called out for Glimmer. She was the first one to go. Leaving about 19 people ahead of you. You watched as her clear, shimmery dress bounced as she stepped onto the stage with a huge smile, waving to the crowd. Her hair effortlessly dropped into place, making her look all the more attractive. The crowds were loud. Your eardrums could only handle so much before you reached out to cover them. 

Eventually, it was Marvel’s turn. He seemed so confident in everything he said, you learned just how charismatic he could be. Clove went next, her interview only made you more cautious of her. Soon after it was Cato’s turn. Unlike Marvel, he gave off boisterous energy. Almost as if he was too good to be there. However, the crowd was eating it up. He ended his interview with a hollar and returned backstage. It was almost the two-hour mark, some interviews taking longer since he wanted to give the tributes who didn’t stand out some limelight. Eventually, it was your turn. 

The stage manager came back to look for you, their hand on your shoulder as they walked you up the stairs. You glanced back to catch the reassuring gaze of Buckley, but instead found Marvel’s. He gave you a wink as a token of good luck, and off you were. 

“Now I’m sure we all remember our next tribute from the tribute parade. I mean how could we forget after the thrilling act she performed!” Flickerman emphasized his words, stretching them at the appropriate time. 

A couple of ‘woos’ and whistles came from the crowd as the anticipation built up. “From district 10- (Y/n) Cuernos!” He announced your cue to cross the stage. The lights were extremely bright, you had to look down as you stepped onto the stage. The crowd cheered at your out-of-place attire, it being one of the most unique (and ridiculous) outfits of the night. Shyly you put on your best smile before catching a glimpse of Dolly in the crowd, making gestures for you to smile bigger. 

You cringed when you thought of your family back at home watching this. Saying a silent apology, it was as if a switch turned on in your brain. Suddenly, your teeth shone as you stretched your lips into a smile, fluttering the huge eyelashes your makeup team glued onto you. With a hand on your hip, the other one waving, you swayed like you saw glimmer doing, your dress’ fabric swishing in the gap your legs left as you strode. 

“(Y/n)! My, my, how you clean up!” Flickerman commented, standing to greet you. 

“Thank you, Caesar.” Your eye nearly twitched at the forced southern twang in your voice. It was a whole lot more than Buckley, who had a natural southern accent, you had close to nothing of an accent. Even when it did slip, it sounded nothing like this. “My stylist purtied me up didn’t they?” 

He looked to the crowd, “Indeed they did.” He motioned for you to sit. 

It helped that the stage lights practically blinded you. You could see that people were sitting in the stands, but you weren’t able to make out distinct features- save for the front row where the mentors sat. 

Remembering what Dolly had told you, you sat up straight, teeth-baring into a cheesy smile. 

“Did that print you’re wearing come from a cow you raised?” The presenter’s teeth glinted in the light as the crowd erupted in laughter, “Oh! ‘course not- just inspired by them.” You giggled back, hating yourself even more. Your heart was beating hoping the president would accept your performance. 

Flickerman adjusted himself in his seat, “Now, I was going to leave this question for last- but I just know the audience has been anticipating the answer, am I right?” He turned to the audience who were cheering blindly. 

Like a doll in a box you smiled stationary, waiting for him to ask the question, but of course, he needed to prolong it for suspense. “What was going through your mind when you rode that steed?” There were some woo’s from the crowd, and you watched yourself on the screen as they replayed the moment. That clip gave you an ego boost each time you saw it. Giggling a bit too nervously you shook your head. “Nothing.” That earned a laugh from the audience. “I just remember wanting to ride it- couldn’t help myself I guess.” You gave a small shrug. 

“What a wildflower this one is.” Caesar made some amused faces. 

The interview lasted for another couple of questions, he seemed to have a lot for you. He asked you about home life, your loved ones, Buckley, and about skills. You didn’t have as many questions as the careers, but it was more than District 8’s tributes who had the least. 

“And do you have a strategy to win the games?” His tone was more serious now. 

Here it was. Your closing line. The one that took you and Dolly two seconds to come up with, but would echo in the minds of the audience. 

“I’m from District 10. I’m a born and bred cowgirl. I have to win. ” 

Cato couldn't help but smirk at your response, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall, he watched with attentive eyes as your interview continued.

His open mouth smile followed by “woah woah woah!” made the stadium rumble. You smiled and waved out to the crowd, Dolly giving you a thumbs up. 

“That’s an ambitious statement! I love it!” He did a little kick, “Well, you go out there and rope them in (Y/n) Cuernos! District 10’s very own cowgirl!” 

If only you could see Cato’s pissed-off face next to Marvel’s smug one. 

As you walked backstage again you were greeted with a bone-crushing hug from your fellow tribute. “Hey, that was good! Though you were a little strong on the accent.” Buckley patted your back. 

“Yeah, I had no idea you had one.” Glimmer teased as she and the other careers leaned against the wall. “Stop trying to win them over, I’m already the Capitol’s sweetheart.” The tall girl crossed her arms, the jewels in her dress reflecting. 

Marvel came around you, making space between you and Buckley who knew better than to cause a scene. “Did they make you skin that cow yourself?” His fingers scraped the waist of your dress, he let out an “O” when he realized it was just fabric. 

Cato gave him a look, causing him to back off. “You have to win huh? How do you think you’re going to do that?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You refused to look at him. 

“Oh, I’m not worried. You see if anyone should be worried about you.” He sneered, his gaze getting darker. “Save yourself the disappointment, enjoy your time in the Capitol, and accept your fate. I’m winning this one.” 

“As if.” Clove rolled her eyes. 

Buckley and you both stared down Cato. 

He snickered, “And don’t go around thinking your friend here is going to help you. If you’ve been doing your research you know that there’s no such thing as friends in the arena.” 

That irked Buckley, “So who’s to say your little posse won’t turn on you and gang up on you in the arena?” 

“Pft, then let’s hope they can outrun me.” His response made the careers shift uncomfortably.

“We knew what we were doing when we signed up.” Marvel spoke up,” It’s our job to ween off the weak ones, so the strongest can prevail.” He said looking at you. 

“So is that what Cato’s going to do to you?” You didn’t mean for it to be a comeback. It just came out that way. The careers looked pissed now, but a stage manager came just in time to lead them back to their mentors. 

“Watch it 10.” Cato’s wild grin didn’t deter you, you continued to stare him down.  

Just like that, your time at the Capitol was coming to an end.

____________________________________

Tags: @randomgurl2326

[leviathansshadycorner]

Be Realistic ( Leon x reader)

Short blurb because I'm in a mood - Yes based off of that Britney broski audio lmao Warnings: low self esteem reader, body issues ALSO I LOVE ASHLEY GUYS SO DW DW SHES MY BBG SHE JUST SEEMED APPROPRIATE TO USE IN THIS SCENARIO LMAO

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca and you sat at the edge of the backyard, both of you sprawled out on the lawn chairs. Claire had thrown a summer pool party, deciding it'd be a smart idea to invite people from work. Ada and Claire were chatting among themselves, sipping away at their colorful drinks, Luis urging everyone to put on sunscreen, and Carlos, Jill, and Chris having a competition to see who could do the best cannonball. Among the partygoers was Ashley Graham, the owner of the house in which Claire was throwing the party.

"She's so gorgeous," Rebecca comments, her sunglasses protecting her brown doe eyes.

"I know." You added, the two of you ogling at Ashley's beauty. She wore a cute brown-colored two-piece, with a metal ring in the front that held the top together, which accentuated her complexion and made her appear like a Victoria's Secret model.

"Hey guys, have any of you seen Leon?" Ashley called out, holding the deflated pink dolphin in her hands.

His name made your stomach twist, and you swear you could've felt your heart pang. The way his name rolled off her tongue was so natural, almost melodic.

"Right here." Leon came out from behind the glass sliding doors. He was the only one still in his normal clothes, deciding he was too cool or some shit for the pool party.

The man walked his way along the perimeter of the pool to Ashley. His muscles showing as he carried the air pump to the girl.

"Dumbass, why did you bring it all the way out here?" Chris commented.

"Easy access." Came Leon's response.

"Thanks, Leon!" Ashley beamed, her pouty pink lips curling into a smile that even made your heart flutter. Leon stood close to her, handing his hand out for her to give him the floaty. She complied, and handed it over, their exchange making your eyes lose their gleam.

"My hero." Ashley was excited, her floaty finally being of use.

Rebecca noticed you from the corner of her eyes. She knew about your little huge crush on Leon. The girl watched as your face crept with sadness- dare she say- disappointment.

"Kind of funny how he's still in his normal clothes." She tries to distract you. "Typical Leon."

You looked at her and smiled, "I know. I was hoping to see him shirtless." The two of you giggled, letting out cackles, Ada and Claire looking your way to see what the commotion was about.

"Why don't you go ask him to take it off?" She teased, turning her body to look at you.

"Hmm, maybe." You said boldly, even though you knew you'd rather fall in the pool and drown than do that.

"Bet. You won't." She smirked, challenging you.

"Pftt I totally would." You played yourself up.

"Then go." Rebecca eyes you.

After being riled up by Rebecca, a burst of confidence shot threw you. It couldn't be that hard right? You and Leon bantered and flirted on missions before, so what difference would this make? Plus it was totally appropriate for you to tell him off about his weird pool attire or rather lack of it.

"Watch me Chambers." You told your best friend as you got up from the lawn chair. You were wearing a (top of your choice) that you brought a size too small to make your figure pop. The shorts that you wore were Rebbeca's basketball shorts that she had let you borrow last minute after you changed your mind about wearing a one-piece.

Feeling confident in your tight outfit you began to strut toward Leon and Ashley, the sun's beams hitting the floor making the cement beneath your feet warm. As you approached you caught a glimpse of yourself in the glass sliding doors. Immediately your confidence shrank.

How could you have been so delusional to wear this out? It looked nothing like the way you pictured it in your head. Your model like posture returned to that of a hunchback as you shamefully scurried past Leon and Ashley, walking along the whole edge of the pool, stopping by the coolers to grab two waters, and heading back to a frowning Rebecca.

Leon and Ashley to focused on judging Chris and Carlos' Cannonballs to notice you.

"What happened?" She ask as she noticed the shift in your demeanor.

"Nothing." You sighed handing her a water.

"(Y/n) we already have water." She pushes her sunglasses up to her head as she stares at you. You take a seat on the same lawn chair.

You whined. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like shit?" It was only loud enough for her to hear.

"What you don't though.." She reassures you as she places a hand on your back. "(Y/n) you look hot!"

You didn't believe it. Surely she was only saying this because as your best friend she was obligated to. Your mind flashed back to the image of you in the glass doors. Your hair was flat yet awfully frizzy at the same time, you stood like a toddler who barely knew how to walk, and your legs looked like they were overflowing in Rebecca's tiny shorts. To make things worse you were sure the chlorine from your previous dip had made your skin look all dry.

You looked around for the oversized shirt you came here in. When you found it you shielded your body from the eyes of the partygoers.

"(Y/n).." Rebecca looked concerned.

"I don't know why I even tried talking to him. I probably look like an idiot." You leaned on Rebecca's shoulder as you two blankly watched the Beefy Brazillian splash into the pool.

"Because you like him. And I'm pretty sure he likes you too." She giggled.

"No- he likes Ashley." You said defeated, your emotions coming out now that you'd made yourself vulnerable. You saw the way those two looked at each other. They had something you wish you had with Leon.

"I don't think so." She wraps her arm around your waist. Smirking when she notices Leon glance over at you two.

"I think I'm just gonna accept my Leon-less life." You said leaning into your friend for comfort. Your eyes occasionally glancing over at an out of place Leon as he shouts at Chris.

"What? You're just not gonna try?"

You sighed. "There's really no point Becca."

She scoffed, "(Y/n)- you're totally out of his league. You can get him if you wanted to."

"Becca!" You groaned, your inner teen always came out when hanging out with her. "I can't. Have you seen the way she looks? She can get him!" You laughed, deciding to find the humor in your failed attempts at love.

"Oh (Y/n) you can too!" Her short hair bounced as she shaked you.

You turned around your hand practically digging into 's shoulder as you stared at her dead in the eye. "Be realistic. Be so fucking for real." You shook her back, your voice that of a goblins.

The two of you laughed as you spewed out nonsensical noises.

The conversation then shifted to celebrity crushes, "You think I have a chance with Josh Hutcherson?" Rebecca lays down on the lawn chair.

"Hundred percent yes." You replied, "What about me and Nick cage?"

"I see that." Rebecca smirks.

"Wait. What about me and Da-" Before you could finish your sentence Leon's shadow loomed over you, causing both you and Rebecca to jump.

"What about you and who?" He asked as he took a seat on the lawn chair you were previously on.

Your heart fell to your ass. "Oh my god you scared me." You and Rebecca giggled.

"You're not going in the pool?" Leon asked, leaning back in the chair.

"You know we were about to ask you the same thing. What's up with the clothes Kennedy?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow, she then nudged your shoulder.

"Yeah, lose the shirt, Leon." You said on cue. A fire growing in your stomach.

"I will if you do." He hooked his hands under his grey shirt as he began to pull it off.

Scratch that. The fire in your stomach was now a full-on Volcano.

[leviathansshadycorner]

You’re spiderman?! Peter parker/ Spiderman x Venom! Reader pt.2

A/n: I did write more lol

part one here.

Rain fell on your face as you ran through the alleyways that were all too familiar to you. Once again you were bait to catch Venom’s food. You were wearing an outfit not suitable for the rain at all- Venom’s idea- and as you walked around waiting for some creep to show up you failed to see the muggers on the other side. They’d just finished killing some dude when you caught their attention. 

“FUCK THIS VENOM I HATE THIS PART.” You gasped as you turned a corner to catch your breath. 

“STOP WHINING (Y/N) THIS IS THE FUN PART.” He called out as he took over your body, black tendrils wrapping around your arms and legs as your body became his. You were taller now, Venom flexing your body as you waited for the criminals. You’ve gotten used to your brain shutting off when Venom was in his feeding frenzy, only influencing him when you didn’t want him to go too far. 

As the criminals rounded the corner their faces morphed into terrified ones. “What the hell is that..” One of them let out as he shifted to run. Before the two criminals could get away, Venom let out a roar, flaring his sharp teeth as he picked them up with his claw. He didn’t hesitate to bite his head off, the blood spurting out. You weren’t sure why he liked the taste of  brains. He chewed off the other guy’s head as well- dropping both of their lifeless bodies onto the floor. 

“HEY! Finish your food!”  You scolded.  You were trying to get Venom to be less wasteful. He only needed the brains, but you were teaching him to not be a picky eater, plus it helped in the long run since it didn’t leave much evidence. 

“I DON’T LIKE THE OTHER BITS THEY’RE TOO CHEWY.” He protested. 

“You eat literal BRAINS, now clean up after yourself.” With a groan the symbiote finished off the criminals, the only thing left behind were blood splatters. “See that wasn’t too bad.” 

When the two of you were done feeding, you walked back to your home, still in Venom’s body. The night was surprisingly tame! Only a few cop cars here and there trying to run you over. Venom retracted back once you reached the safety of your home. As you crawled into your window you were stopped when you spotted a certain spider latched onto your building. 

“What are you doing here?” You called out. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” He crawled down to meet you. 

“I live here.” 

“Right- well I was just visiting.” He replied through the mask. 

“How do you know where I live?” God you couldn’t believe this guy had your address. 

“Followed you home yesterday.” He said casually as the rain drops slid off his suit and onto your forehead. “Can I come in?” He raised his brows which made his mask look interrogative. 

“STALKERRRRR.” Venom called out. “Yeah fine whatever just- be quiet ok?” Your parents were already suspicious enough of venom, you didn’t need to give them a reason to believe they were right about you sneaking boys in the room. 

Stepping backward you allowed Peter to climb his way into your room, his hands sticking to the ceiling as he crawled into the center. “So are you just going to stay up there?” 

“Yeah- don’t want to get too close in case you bite.” He commented playfully. 

“WE DO BITE.” Venom’s face covered yours as he licked his teeth. 

“Yeah see him- he’s the reason I’m up here.” He said cautiously. 

“Venom stop that. He’s our fri- classmate.”  Venom groaned, licking Peter’s masked face before retracting back into you. “DAMN YOU FOR PROHIBITING THIS DELICIOUS MIDNIGHT SNACK.” 

“You just ate.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Aww so we’re not friends? Cold (Y/n)- harsh, even after I helped you with chemistry.” He acted hurt, placing a hand on his chest, still sticking to the ceiling. 

“So why are you here?” You asked again, taking a towel off your door’s hangers, using it to pat yourself dry. 

Peter took his masks off, revealing his own wet hair. You envied how long his lashes were, plotting to rip them out in his sleep and attach them to your own. Even through you hated to admit it- Peter Parker looked fucking hot in his hero suit. The red and blue- webbed suit hugged him in all the right places. You only wished he’d turn around. “Can we talk?” 

“About?” You grew self conscious realizing you were still in that stupid outfit Venom had picked out for you. “Wait- I’m gonna change first.” You said. “Can you by chance like- wait outside orrr…” “AND YOU SAY I’M RUDE. (Y/N) IT’S RAINING! WE CAN’T LET OUR POOR GUEST GET SOAKED. WHAT IF HE CATCHES A COLD? HE WON’T TASTE AS GOOD THEN.” The alien protested. 

“Yeah no problem- I’ll wait outside.” Peter said, throwing a web out the window and catching himself with it. 

Taking a  breath of relief you let out a tiny fart, one you’ve been holding in the whole time. You then raided your dressers for some comfortable clothes, but not ones you were too attached with since you’d shower after Peter was gone. You landed on some basketball shorts and an oversized shirt. You then tidied up a bit, hoping he hadn’t seen all the dirty clothes sprawled around your room. Venom helped discard the trash that lingered, leaving your room presentable. 

“Alright, you can come in.” You whisper shouted to Peter, sticking your head out the window. 

At the sound of your voice the boy had already been pummling towards you, assuming you wouldn’t be standing directly in front of the window. He landed into you knocking the wind out of you. Venom lent a hand, catching you both before you could make a loud thud on the floor and wake your parents. He shook you around, hoping to help you catch your breath. 

“Oh my god (Y/n) I’m sorry!” He rushed to your side, his gloved hands taking hold of your arm as he tried to help. You didn’t say anything since you were wheezing. Just stuck your thumb out for him. 

“I thought you were out of the way- I would’ve just crawled in, I'm so sorry.” He continued to freak out.  

“FOOLISH BOY LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO MY DARLING!” Venom’s face was close to Peter's, his eyes angry. 

“I’m.. wheeze fine wheeze cough.” You protested. 

As you caught your breath Peter helped you to your bed where you took a seat. Waving your hand you signaled for him to start talking. His kind expression returned as he stood in front of you, unsure if he could sit. 

“Right well I thought we’d get to know each other.” He smiled, “You know, get well-acquainted. 

“HE’S SCARED YOU’RE GOING TO SPILL HIS SECRET. I CAN SMELL THE FEAR.” Venom let out a guttural noise, his figure once again sizing up Peter. 

Trusting his judgment you let out a groan. “Is that why you’ve been following me? I’m not gonna snitch on you Peter. I made a promise. Plus- you know my secret.” His expression fell, you could tell he was feeling a bit ashamed. 

“Sorry it’s just… this is the first time this has happened. I mean my own Aunt May doesn’t know about this.” He explained. 

“Yeah I get you,.. It’s hard trying to keep something so big a secret. How are you even managing?” He had to be tired if not annoyed. How could someone keep up a double life as Spider-man? Only a few weeks ago you saw him on the news get flung from the sky and crashing into a building. Days before that he was on fire as a result of a bank robbery gone destructive. 

His thin lips curved into a smile. You two sat in silence before he spoke up again. “By the way- I wanted to have a chat about your eating habits.” 

“Eating habits?” You rolled your eyes. “Look- I already told you. I don’t eat brains.” You paused. “Venom does.”  

He shot you a look. 

“He needs them to survive. I’m not gonna deprive an organism that makes me into a superior version of myself of food.” Shrugging off his remarks you turned to the other side. 

“(Y/n) I can’t have you going around killing innocent people. There’s already a number of people who think that Venom is Spiderman turned evil.” Peter decided to take a seat next to you but stood up when you looked at him weirdly. 

“First of all, they’re not innocent people ok? I made that very clear with Venom when we got into this relationship. Second of all, we are way cooler than you.” You scoffed. 

“Still. It’s unethical to kill people, that practically puts you in the rank with murders and the bad guys I help lock up.”  Ok, that struck a chord with you. 

“WHAT DID YOU CALL US?!” He took over your body once again. “WE DO NOT NEED TO HEAR YOUR LECTURE MORSEL. AT LEAST WE CAUSE MINIMAL DESTRUCTION.” 

Peter stepped back. It was so trippy to see his classmate get overrun by an Alien. He stood away, still not comfortable enough with venom to predict his unpredictability. His boots squeaked on the floor as he looked up at you.  

“YOU’RE FORTUNATE THAT MY PET HAS PUT YOU OFF LIMITS.” He continued, stepping closer to the boy who was breathing shallowly now. As Venom’s temperament came to a high, the door swung open. As fast as light- both Venom and Peter hid. Peter hiding in a corner that so happened to be shielded by your closet wall, Venom retracting into you, leaving you on the floor. 

“(Y/n)? What in the goddamned hell are you doing up?” Your mother asked, her tired face wrinkled with anger. 

“I was uh practicing lines for a play.” The lie you had gone with to distract your Parent’s from the fact that there was an Alien living inside of you was that you were in Drama- playing a character that so happened to use a monster voice. Peter stifled a laugh as he heard your voice go from Venom’s baritone to your soft one. 

“Do you see what time it is?” She began. 

“It’s..”

“Do you see  what time it is (y/n)?” She raised an angry brow. 

“!1:30…” Reluctantly you responded, 

“Exactly go to- what the!” Her eyes landed on your open window. Your room smelled like rain. “Why the hell is the window open? You’re gonna get sick!” She grumbled as she went over to close it. 

Your asshole clenched as you prayed that she didn’t see Peter on your ceiling. Luckily for you he maneuvered his way across quietly, escaping from her field of vision, repeating the process when your mother turned back to leave your room. “You better be in bed by 12.” She warned. 

“But I still have to shower still.” 

“12! (y/n).” 

When the coast was clear Peter detached himself from the ceiling. 

“Well she’s pleasant.” He said putting his mask back on. He took her intrusion as a sign to leave, not wanting to risk you getting in trouble. “We can talk about morals and ethics another day.” He said as he opened your window to leave. 

“That’s it? You’re leaving?” 

He nodded. “Night (y/n), see you in chem tomorrow.” He jumped off, his webs shooting onto a building. 

With an annoyed expression you watched from your window. 

“WHAT A PRICK.” 

[leviathansshadycorner]

You’re spiderman?! Peter parker/ Spiderman x Venom! Reader 

A/n: bold is venom, words in bold are his opinions, bold in italics is you when you're ‘merged’ with venom, also toby peter was in mind when writing this but go ham on whichever peter you want it to be. Might write a part two lol.

Glass clinked against the metal stirring stick you were using to slosh around the blue liquid. You wanted to get the solution right on the first try. Not because you were an overachiever, but because you wanted to go home already. That and the little Alien that inhabited you was being annoying. It had been two months since agreeing to become Venom’s host. The first month was hell, in fact it’s the reason why you’re in your chemistry class after school. The chaos that came along with the symbiote was more than enough to help you fail your classes. The first few days with venom consisted of you destroying your bedroom, eating nasty old men, and wreaking havoc in the city. 

To make things worse, not only were the NYPD on your ass- but you also had a certain annoying neighborhood nuisance on your tail. In fact just last night you were tied onto a streetlamp by Spider-man, the nuisance himself, because it’s ‘not ethical’ to eat bad guys. You hated him. Sure he was a hero trying to rid the city of evil but so were you! Poor not-so-little Venom was so excited to become vigilantes, but his dreams got crushed after being categorized as a villain by the web-slinger. 

“WHEN DO WE GET TO GO HOME?” The Alien poked his small head out from your left boob. 

With urgency you shoved him back into your body. “Calm down!” 

Mrs. Nicholson and a few other students who were also making up some late work looked over at you, some confused others laughing at your sudden outburst. 

“Everything alright (Y/n)?” The tired chemistry teacher called over. 

A nervous laugh came out of your mouth, “Yeah sorry- just frustrated I guess.” 

“Frustrated? Do you need help?” She asked with concern. 

“N-no I’m fine.” You replied trying to look focused so she wouldn’t send over the student assistant. 

“Alright well Peter should be back from the bathroom if you need help, so just ask him for help ok?” Great. Just what you needed. 

See, it’s not that you hated Peter Parker, he was a pretty smart guy. He’s actually the only teacher’s assistant who isn’t a condescending smart ass that makes you feel bad about yourself for asking a question. He was helpful in these make-up labs  oftentimes being of more  use than the actual teacher. You never really spoke to him, you knew he had a rich hot friend and a crush on Mary Jane who you also never spoke to.  

“Back.” Speak of the devil.  The boy stepped into the classroom, his lab coat still on. Was that even considered sanitary? 

Immediately you felt Venom take over your eyes. Your (e/c) irises covered by a silky white lens film as he observed Peter. Now used to his antics- you shut your eyes tightly until you regained control of your eyes again. Taking the vial of stirred solution in your hands you carefully poured it into the main flask, once again hoping Mrs. Nicholson wouldn’t send Peter over. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe loved to see you suffer. “Peter, why don’t you go help (Y/n) over there?” She directed him to you. 

You mentally groaned when you saw Peter make his way over. You were sitting in the middle of the classroom just behind two students and in front of another. There were four of you in total, yet you were the only one who seemed to struggle. Surly chemistry was rigged against you or something right? 

“OOO YUM.” Venom growled as he tried to escape your body only to be pushed back in again before anyone could see him. 

“Did you say something?” Peter looked confused, his glasses moving upwards as he raised an eyebrow. 

“Huh? Oh no I was just saying that this solution looks yum…yummy.” The gross sludge in front of you did not look yummy, It looked like someone threw up a blue gatorade. “It’s not supposed to do that is it?” 

He shook his head, his blue eyes wide as he moved to prevent it from spilling. “No- it’s not. What did you put in here?” He carefully moved you out of the way and took over your station, cleaning up the mess you had made. “We might have to start over.” 

You would’ve felt bad about him having to fix your mess, but you were too caught up in the fact that you had to stay longer and redo the whole damn thing. 

“GAAAHHH!” Venom’s low voice fussed as he heard this news. Once again everybody’s eyes were on you. The heat rose to your face as you tried to play it off. 

“Sorry, guess I’m hungry.” 

Peter and you got to work. Since you had to redo the whole process the two of you were the last ones in the classroom, the other students leaving as soon as they finished. Mrs. Nicholson had even left, claiming that “Peter knows what he’s doing, You’re in good hands.” It wasn’t usual that Teacher’s left students alone in classrooms, especially in labs. However Peter was the exception. He was Midtown high’s resident nerd/teacher’s pet. Which was why he was always getting in trouble with Flash Thompson. The only thing keeping him from daily beatings being his friend Harry. 

“Alright, so now that it’s bubbling just compare the differences between this one and the one we put in cold water.” The boy said, moving his goggles to the side as he took them off. 

“That’s it? I’m done after that?” You eagerly asked, eyebrows high, astonished by the fact that you were the only one who could mess up a simple ass lab. 

“I mean we still gotta clean up, but yeah.” He offered a smile. 

“Sweet.” You got to writing. Venom had calmed down after you took a bathroom break to buy some chocolate from a vending machine, but occasionally he would pop out from behind your neck to sniff Peter. You just hoped Peter didn’t think of you as some weirdo pervert who was trying to smell him. 

The scribbles on the report were hardly legible since you just wanted to get out of there. Finishing off with signing your name, you turned the packet in to the front of the desk where Mrs. Nicholson had instructed you to before she had left. 

“Alright, thank you.” You told the boy who was staring at you intently. You hadn’t noticed it before but he was acting differently after you came back from your ‘bathroom break’. 

“Yeah no problem, need help cleaning up?” Regardless of your response, he was already emptying the flask and tubes that you had used, 

“I mean you’re already helping me.” Chuckling in a friendly manner you grabbed some paper towels and disinfectant, spraying it on the table and wiping it away. 

The two of you worked in awkward silence to clean up the lab, going as far as to clean up the messes that the other lab students forgot about. When you were done you took off your goggles and coat, hanging it back on the rack. Peter soon followed behind  you, his footsteps and yours the only sound in the room. 

“Alright well- bye, thank you again.” You rushed out of there, your backpack charms clinking as your legs moved down the hall. 

“YAY! FREEDOM!” Venom roared, his head poking out of your stomach, You didn’t shove him back this time, mainly because no one else was around to witness the monster you called your friend. 

A smile played on your face, “Fuck yeah! And we don’t ever have to stay after school anymore!” 

“WAIT THAT WAS THE LAST ONE?” Venom questioned, eager to hear the response. 

“Mhm!” You celebrated, still running out of the school. “Now we can do some more bad guy hunting!” Saying Venom was the only one who enjoyed the vigilante work would be a lie. After getting accustomed to the fear and relishing in the rush- you too had been looking forward to beating up the scum of the earth. Plus, a part of you secretly hoped to be tied up again by Spiderman. Though you hated him for leaving you with a hungry Venom, you had a thing for guys in masks. 

Venom took over your legs, the black-purple sludge covering your jeans as he sped up the pace. “DO WE GET TO EAT NOW?” 

“Maybe- I don’t know. It's still bright out.” The sun still hadn’t set. Checking your watch it read 5:30. 

“I’ll buy you some fries.” 

“YAY!” 

The two of you were at (favorite burger place), munching on some much needed food when it happened. A gross oversized bug flew at the restaurant's window, its guts splatter all over the place. 

“What the hell?” A few people got up to look at the commotion which only progressed as the sound of a crash and then car alarms went off. 

“What the fuck is that?” You commented to Venom as you finished your food, gathering up the trash to throw. 

“I DON’T KNOW, LET’S FIND OUT.”  His feet dragged you towards the exit, quickly you grabbed your backpack, swinging it on you as the Alien took control of your steps. His feet looked like some horror movie inspired shoes. 

He didn’t bother saying excuse me, his attention focused on the action outside. You murmured some apologies to the people who he bumped into. Eventually the two of you were far enough for him to take over your body, your (s/c) skin overrun with his dark goop. When you made it out of the alleyway people were quick to shriek at you. This was the first time in a while that Venom was fully out in broad daylight. 

“AHHHHHHHHH! Oh my god what is that?” A lady yelled. 

“Is that spiderman?!” Some guy yelled causing a cacophony of people accusing you of being spiderman. 

“IDIOTS!” Venom didn’t like that. 

As if on cue the actual spiderman came swinging in, stepping on your head to boost himself up. 

“Hey it's you!” His annoying voice called out a greeting, lifting himself up with a web. 

Venom growled at this, not appreciating the fact he was used as a step stool. “ GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLE!”

“Hey! Stop that! He’s already dealing with someone. Let’s take advantage of this while he’s distracted.” Trying to convince Venom to change his mind was a hard task, especially when he was throwing a temper tantrum. The two of you fought for autonomy over your body, venom winning since his hunger fueled him. 

“I thought you were all for saving the bees!” Spiderman’s voice echoed through the air as he threw some webs towards Swarm, the nuisance in question. 

Angered, theVillain shot some bees his way, “DIE SPIDERMAN!” 

Quickly the man in the red suit dodged the swarm of bees coming his way, using his webs as some sort of butterfly net as he caught some.  Infuriated by his quick thinking, the swarm makes the bees cut through the net, sending another mass of them at the spider. 

“Gross I don’t want to get stung.” You pulled away before Venom got too close, landing on a roof nearby. It was close enough to see the whole ordeal yet not get hurt. 

“(Y/N) COME ON! HE’S RIGHT THERE! IF WE GET RID OF HIM WE CAN HAVE ALL THE BRAINS IN THE WORLD!” The alien shouted though no amount of pleading would convince you to kill Spider man. 

‘’Yes, but if we kill him, who's gonna deal with these wackos?” 

“WE WILL DUH! STOP BEING SUCH A PUS-” A web came shooting at you heavy enough to drop you to the floor. 

“What the hell? Already?!“WE WEREN’T EVEN DOING ANYTHING!” 

“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD’VE STRUCK!” He scolded you. 

“Sorry buddy, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on you! Kinda busy at the moment, you can try me again on Tuesday.”  Spiderman walked onto the roof where you lay, shooting out a few more webs onto you. He finished his snarky little sentence just as he went to attack Swarm again. 

Letting out an animalistic growl, Venom burst through the webs- this time he was actually angry, and you tended to not have the best control over him when in a state like this. His claws gripped onto the buildings as he climbed upwards, making his way to the spider and Swarm. The villain looked horrified as he saw the two of you approaching him. Swarm let out a yell as Venom brought him to the ground, his fist endlessly punching away as the swarm slowly disappeared, the bees scurrying off to recover. 

“Gee thanks for the help buddy!” Spiderman landed behind you, his fists on his slutty little waist. “Glad I can count on ya!” He began to walk away. 

Venom leaped out, grabbing him in his hands. “Hey what the-!” Spiderman struggled as he tried to shimmy his way out of your grasps. 

“FINALLY!” Venom’s voice shook Spiderman’s core. 

“No~ NO! Venom no! I thought I told you that we weren’t going to kill him!” You fought with the symbiote, loosening your grip to allow the hero some room to escape. 

“SHUT UP (Y/N) I GOT THIS!” He spoke as he tightened his grip once again. 

If it weren’t for the mask you would've seen the confused expression on Peter’s face when he heard this giant monster thing say your name. Could it be? He thought, Could it be the girl from his school? 

“No it can’t be.” Spiderman shook his head. 

Venom lifted him up to his eye level, beginning to pluck off the mask from the hero. “Hey! Stop that! It’s not nice to take someone’s mask off without their permission!” He huffed trying to joke, though you could tell he was scared. A crowd was formed below the buildings, the sound of news helicopters surrounded you and you were sure they were broadcasting this live. 

“Venom- we gotta go.” You told your friend as you frantically moved your head to look at the helicopters that had now grown in number. “Come on let him go- we gotta leave before they start-” 

It was too late. A helicopter filled with what looked to be either a military or swat team had started shooting at you. The bullets hitting your body, cushioned by Venom’s goop before being released to the floor. Peter watched with wide eyes as the bullers fell to the ground, having not affected the beast at all. He however was shitting his pants- if he got shot he was done for. 

Shocked by the sudden fire and scared out of your mind, fear took over, causing your flight to kick in. You’d let go of Peter, and used your legs to leap off the building. Venom didn’t seem to be happy about it, but he also knew that if you got hurt he’d die as well. 

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?!” You shouted, feeling yourself begin to cry. 

“WE COULD’VE HAD  HIM!” Venom shouted, retracting into your body once you were in a safe alley way away from anyone. 

“I could have died!” You shouted.

“NUH UH! I WAS PROTECTING YOU!” He argued. 

“Not really! If you were protecting me we would’ve been out of that situation as soon as they started firing!” You were breathing heavily. You took your flannel off to examine your arms, reaching down to lift your pant legs to check on your leg. 

“THE BULLETS DIDN’T REACH YOU (Y/N), LIKE I SAID I WAS PROTECTING YOU.” He said again. 

It was your first brush with death and you didn’t feel good. 

As you were pacing around trying to get over the hysteria- two red boots plopped onto the floor. You froze, turning around, The figure was leaning over a trash bin, chest heaving notably as he tried to catch his breath. It was spiderman. You wondered if he had noticed you standing at the other end of the alley. Venom was still protruding out of you, his head in full display as the two of you looked at each other and then the hero. 

You raised a finger to your lips, signaling for venom to keep his mouth shut. Waving him into your body, you signaled for him to hide himself. The attempt however failed when a certain masked hero turned your way after a can had fallen from where you stood. Quickly Venom disappeared into you, but the hero had already seen it, leaving the two of you in an intense staring contest. 

“(Y/n)?” The hero asked,  a familiar voice taking the place of the hero’s usual deep voice. 

How did spiderman know your name? WAIT- THE SPIDER MAN KNEW YOUR NAME!

You stayed there frozen, hoping that if you just stayed frozen he’d eventually go away. The puzzle pieces seemed to connect when you noticed a familiar green backpack peeking from the top of the recycling bin. 

It couldn’t be. 

There was just no possible way. 

Out of everyone that could be spiderman it couldn’t be him. 

He was a nerd- a nobody- just some guy from school who happened to be a genius. 

He must’ve noticed his slip up because he quickly shot a web over the backpack, slowly approaching you. 

“NO. FUCKING. WAY.” Came out of your mouth as you stepped back, overwhelmed by the discovery. Venom kept himself in you, salty that you yelled at him, although when he  noticed the spider he began to take over your body, stopping when he felt your hand on his arm. 

“You’re venom?!” He asked, shocked, still in the mask. He had forgotten that spiderman wasn’t supposed to know who you were. Afterall how would a hero recognize some highschool senior? 

“Peter?” You asked, it had to be him, oh my god it had to! It all made sense now. 

He would always slip out of class, but most people including you thought he had some bowel problems. Whenever he would come back he’d be all sweaty and roughed up. He always defended Spiderman whenever Flash would shit talk the hero, and you remembered him lying about knowing him to Mary Jane- although now that you knew it was Peter - he technically wasn't lying. It also explained why he was so good in the gym. 

Your head was spinning with questions. After all, you had just worked with the kid not even two hours ago in the chemistry lab at school!

“N-no.” Came his lame reply. He forced a deep voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Venom.” You called out and immediately the alien covered your body. 

Peter suddenly remembered that you wanted to kill him for some reason. He then leapt on his feet, almost getting away. Venom reached out for him, capturing him by the collar of his suit. The alien then brought him close to him and growled, licking the spider’s masked face. 

“EW! NO STOP we are not licking our classmates' faces!” You scolded as your face protruded where Venom’s face once was. 

“What- I.. I am so confused right now.” He said defeated. 

Your arm went to lift his mask, his webs shooting out to stop you, “No- no- you really don’t have to do thaaaaat.” His fake voice nervously protested, but you ended up taking it off anyways. You gasped, both out of excitement and shock since you were right! 

He looked at you with those wide eyes of his. You never knew how pretty they were until now that you were up close and personal with him. He looked scared, almost shocked that you actually went through with it. 

“Peter?! You’re spiderman?” You yelled in surprise, only to get a web to the mouth. 

“Hey look- I don’t know what I did or why you’re trying to kill me but please..” He began and you realized you were still in Venom’s body. 

“Oh- sorry… right.” Venom collapsed back into you, dropping Peter as you shrank back to size. “Sorry!” You called out as you reached to pick him up. 

“(Y/n) what- what is that thing?” He questioned, trying to catch his breath. 

“Oh that-” “WE ARE VENOM.” His voice echoed from inside of you. “Right, we are venom.” That was the only answer you would give him. 

It made sense to him now why you were always causing a scene in class, why you would always be on the phone during school, or why you always had that constipated look in your eyes when your ‘stomach’ would growl during study hall. Now that he was thinking of it, that monster thing must have been what was triggering his spidey senses back at the chem lab. 

He then got back to business, the weight of your knowledge on his shoulders. “(Y/n)..” He held your shoulders, his face close to yours. Something about Peter Parker in a tight suit and messy hair, looking as if he just had a brush with death  seemed to appeal to you. He looked nothing like the dorky science wiz from school, yet he still sort of did and you just weren’t realizing it. 

“You can’t tell anybody about this.” He pleaded, the sincerity in his eyes too much for you. “I- I can’t let anyone find out that I’m spiderman you got that?” 

“Are you going to kill me? Because I’m pretty sure venom won’t..” He stopped you, shaking his head, “No no - I’m not gonna kill you, I don't do that. You just can’t tell anybody please. Please (y/n) I beg you..” His eyes were watery. “I’ll do anything, anything just don’t -” 

“Peter! Calm down.” You placed your own hands on his shoulders, your stomach twisting as you felt how toned he was. “I won’t. I swear. But in return you can’t tell anybody about my secret, ok?’  You looked him in the eyes, the both of you having some sort of relief once he nodded. 

“Yeah - yeah of course.” Peter said, dropping his hands from you much to his dismay. 

“One more question-” Peter began. 

“Yeah?” 

“So like why are you eating people’s brains?”

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 6

Summary: (Y/n) begins training.

A/n: Sorry for any inconsistencies and spelling errors, enjoyyyyyy!

Pt.5 Pt.4 Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1

____________________________________

Chapter 6 Training pt. 2

“So tell me why you’re in a feud with a career.” Ramsey bit into his apple. The mentor sat across from you and Buckley. 

“Where’s Dolly?” You hadn’t seen her in the room and were starting to get worried. 

“Don’t worry about her.” Ramsey dismissed. 

“Where is she?” Buckley then repeated. 

The room had grown quiet. Even Pradain who had been watching the Capitol news had gone silent. Ramsey shook his head, avoiding eye contact with either of you. You turned to look at Buckley who intently waited for an answer. 

“She’s talking with the President.” Praidain offered you an answer. “Apparently (Y/n)’s stunt didn’t sit right with him.” 

“Fuck.” You cursed as you threw your head into your hands  and onto the table. 

Dolly had warned you. She had told you that you’d get her in trouble. Buckley seemed taken back but was quick to come to your defense. 

“I'm sure it's nothing,” He began, “Maybe he’s just telling her to keep an eye on you.” 

“Buck’s right.” Ramsey shrugged. “It’s not like the presidents going to hurt any of us. There’s rumors of rebels in the districts. He’s worried that your little horse trick might’ve sent the wrong message. That’s all he’s worried about.” 

“That and the girl from 12.” Pradain added. 

“I wouldn’t worry about her. She seems like another Joanna if anything.” Ramsey added. 

“Have you seen how she stares at the Capitol Citizens? She practically skins the President with that nasty glare of hers.” Pradain sprawled out on the couch. 

All the talk couldn’t distract you from the immense guilt you felt. You’ve heard stories about people getting punished by the Capitol. You knew about how cruel they could be since you practically lived  with the lingering threat of the peacekeepers. You hoped that Buckley was right. That she was just getting a little scolding. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if your actions had caused her to get hurt or worse. 

“Why don’t they just kill us on the spot?” Came your hopeless reply. 

“Don’t go around saying things like that (Y/n)” Pradain’s sympathy shone for the first time. 

“They like entertainment.” Ramsey said, looking out into space. 

Buckley looked uneasy. It seemed the guilt had gone to him as well. You wondered if he hated you. Of course he probably didn’t but you were sure he thought of you differently. 

You could feel the flood of emotions swirl in your brain. This was all getting to be so much and the games haven't even started. You’d lost your appetite. Shakily you got up. Your body felt weak. It seemed you’d spent most of your time here fighting off panic attacks and the urge to cry. Quickly you marched into your room. You could hear Buckley’s chair screech as he stood up to follow but Ramsey kept him back. 

“Let her,” He instructed him. “Why don’t we chat about winning?” He followed up. 

Your tears didn’t hesitate any longer. A familiar flood of salt water streamed down your face as you slouched down the door. The cries were progressively getting harder to contain. Ugly cries erupted from you and you knew the rest of the group would be able to hear them. You threw yourself onto the strange bed. Cries were muffled but now you were drowning in your snot and tears. 

Why did you ever believe Buckley? Why did you think you could be strong. You weren’t the same person you were 10 years ago. That brash little girl left when your mother died. She left when reality took over your fantasy of a better life. 

You were weak. 

In your time here so far you’d proven to be difficult, negative, and living off of false confidence. There was no possible way you’d win the games. Especially since you’ve managed to make enemies out of the tributes with the highest chance at  victory. Amaranto was wrong. You weren’t even good at your job back home. Skilled with knives? If anything you’d get killed by one. Amaranto. He’d be left with a heartbroken father. Clarabell was there for him which gave you some sense of hope but even then. What use does it have for him to have a life, a family- if his kids would be reaped too. 

You thought of your mother. What would she think of you if she were still here? You hadn’t talked to her in years. You weren’t able to. Life got hectic and visits to the meadow were replaced with shifts at the slaughterhouse.  Instantly your mind is filled with memories of your mother. She’d told you that anything was possible. That you were strong and capable yet wild and fierce. 

The cold air kissed your tears away as you laid looking at the ceiling. Her last words echoed as you closed your eyes. Sleep was hard to get by these days. Fortunately for you, you’d exhausted yourself enough to drift into a blissful nap. 

“(Y/n).” A voice came through your dream. 

You shifted in place, the untouched part of the sheets cold, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. 

“(Y/n), come on you gotta go to training.” The feminine voice came again. 

Your eyelids fought to open, refusing to be awoken by the gift of a nap. When they finally did open you were met with Dolly’s gentle eyes. She shook you slightly to get you up. Your groginess was replaced and you basically threw yourself onto her. 

“You’re ok!” Your arms grasped her into a tight hug. 

Dolly hugged back, “Are you ok? Did something happen?” She asked you. She thought it was unlike you to be so forward. 

“I should be asking you that- What happened?” Came your worried reply. 

“Nothing much.” She smiled. “You have training in 10-” 

You cut her off, “Ramsey and Pradain said you were talking to the President.” 

She looked confused. She stood back, getting off the bed she had been hugged on to. 

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” She sighed. 

“What's going on Dolly? Was it about me?” You wondered, glad she didn’t seem to be hurt. 

“Well Snow called me in because of you, so that parts true.” She placed a hand on your arm, “But don’t worry about it nothings going to happen.” She took a deep breath as she began to explain. “You cant tell anyone I told you this but Snow suspects another rebel uprising. He’s concerned about the tributes showing defiance towards the Capitol.” 

“Yeah Pradain and Ramsey told me about the rebels.” 

“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyways, I was going to tell you later since I know you’re busy with training but I guess now’ll have to do.” She tried to find the right wording. “Snow wants you to play up the part of a cowgirl from 10.” 

“What?” Her answer didn’t seem real. 

“You’re joking right?” You laughed. 

“No (Y/n). Your parade stunt, in his words, ‘ can be seen as an act of defiance.’ So to counter that he wants you to show the Capitol that you’re really, again his words not mine, ‘A good ol’ fashioned- wild and dense country girl.” She said the last part with disdain. She was from district 10 too, something that you’d forgotten from time to time. 

You felt offended. “Wait why- that doesn’t even make any sense. He didn’t like that I rode a horse so he wants me to act stupid?”

“It could be worse.” She reminded . Suddenly you had no problem with it. Except you did. Cato would have a hayday with this. 

The second day of training was already different as soon as you walked in. You’d all be spending the first half training as a group, the next would be individual. Like yesterday, you dreaded group training. The tributes lined up by districts as they waited to spar against trainers. 

You looked up to the balcony. The game makers were stationed up there to evaluate the tributes, but in reality all they did was get drunk and cause distractions. You paid no mind to them yesterday since there were only a few, but the rest of them seemed to join in today. 

“So they’re really making you play an idiot?” Buckley whispered. He was in front of you, waiting for his turn. 

“Yeah. Keep that on the down low please.” You asked, not wanting to let any other tributes in on it. 

“Of course. Can you believe we have three days of this? Like it's going to help anyone. The game makers like to kill people off when the games get stale.” His face scrunched in annoyance as he looked towards them. “They say may the odds be ever in your favor, but they make it so that they never are.” 

You didn’t like thinking about the games. You knew you’d die eventually, even if you did manage to make it far. Out of the 24 people here there’s bound to be at least 16 ahead of you. The only thing that got you through the long days were memories of 10, thinking of going home to Amaranto, Pa, and Clarabell, and Buckley. Though you tried not to think of him too much. You’ve grown attached to your neighbor, but there could only be one. He’d have a chance, you hoped he would, but he could get in over his head at times. 

The girl from 12 overheard, she looked like she wanted to pipe in but went against it. Buckley had previously told you that she had also made Cato’s list. So even if you did want to talk to her you knew it’d make things worse for the both of you. 

“I wonder if they program them to be psychopaths.” You chatted with Buckley. 

“They probably feed them sheet metal.” He joked. 

Routinely the careers finished fast. They went to their familiar spot and proceeded to judge and ridicule the efforts of the others. 

“I’m surprised 4 isn’t with them. Aren’t they also careers?” You looked over at the pair of tributes. 

“Have you seen them (y/n)? They may be from 4, but they don’t seem like the career type. They would’ve been with the pack already.” Buckley moved slightly so they were in your field of vision. It was true. The boy from 4 looked too young to be here. It broke your heart. The girl looked capable, but she kept to herself, not really helping the boy. 

“Have you decided on your chosen skill yet?” You asked him. 

Buckley shrugged, “No, but I might just throw some knives around.” 

You nodded. He looked  at you as if waiting for your answer. “I think I’ll do something with rope.” 

His face lit up, “You have to!” 

Individual training was better than group training. Partially because the careers were focused on themselves and not on the less capable tributes. Buckley had gone on to do some strength training. You could see him trying to talk to Thresh. It was clear the boy didn’t want to talk, but Buckley didn’t know any better. You on the other hand were in a simulation pod. It was a small rectangular room within the building. It simulated different weather and textures. One of your least favorite parts of the game that you came to realize was the randomly selected arena. In past years there’d been tundras, deserts, beaches, and cities. There was no telling which one they’d come up with this year. You hoped it’d be anything but  a jungle. You could handle heat but not humidity. 

When you first started using the pod, all eyes were on you. Mostly because it piqued the interest of the other tributes and you were sure they’d want to use it after you. It was filled with coarse sand first, cold but then gradually heating up. The pod went from room temperature to a scorching heat and you had to take your jacket off. The sand quickly morphed into liquid, and you were floating in the water. You weren’t much of a swimmer, so of course you panicked. The worst part came when the water evaporated and you stood on leaves while the air around you got humid. Your jacket was already off and you couldn’t get rid of any more layers. The simulation ended with the water turning into snow. When you were done you stepped out, already regretting having chosen it. You were however pushed back in by a trainer. The pod inhaled the sand, snow, and water particles, leaving you good as new. 

Stepping out you’ve noticed the tributes lining up. In a weird way you could tell they were excited to try out capitol technology. Marvel was the first in line. He was surprised to see you walk out the door. He peeked his head in the pod before looking at you. 

“Can’t swim?” He asked. You couldn't tell whether he was trying to make conversation or insult you. Saying nothing you walked past him.

 Your mentors had instructed you to try to at least learn some lethal skills since trying to run wouldn’t always work. The weapons area was intimidating, but you had to at least try. There were spears, bow and arrows, knives, daggers, swords, axes, sickles. An array of weapons you didn’t know how to use. 

You picked up a knife and examined it. A trainer looked ready to help you so you walked toward them. “I’m not sure what to do.” 

“Why don’t you try with the dummy first?” They suggested. 

Nodding you went over to one of the training dummies. You tried stabbing the knife into the wood. Your arm was a bit wobbly at first but you eventually got the hang of it. The trainer came over to help you out with a technique. After a half hour you were finally able to train with them. It was hard at first since you never really had to fight with anyone. You were skilled to an extent with a knife, but those skills were only permitted in the arena. 

“Alright, why don’t you try the spears next?” The trainer pointed to where the said weapon lied. 

Spears were a weird weapon to you. It was essentially an elongated knife mixed with a needle. You’d seen Marvel use these before. He was the only one who could effectively use one, so you’ve come to learn. Eventually the trainer got whisked away to help another tribute, leaving you alone. The metal felt heavy in your hands. You lifted the spear to poke the point, drawing blood from your finger. Hissing, you put the finger in your mouth, hoping that it wouldn’t bleed too much and cause a mess. As you approached a dummy you  messed around with the weapon, hoping to find your grip. When you did you hit the dummy- lightly at first- deciding what the best way to weaken your opponent would be. Driving the point into the dummy’s stomach, you let out a sound as you tripped over your own feet, the force of your stab stronger than you anticipated. 

“You know those are meant to be thrown too right?” Marvel appeared besides you, his hands on his hip as he observed your technique. “Give me that.” He took the spear out of your dry hands, immediately getting into a stance before throwing it at the dummy’s head. 

Marvel turned to you and smiled, acting like a boy who had just made a basketball shot.  Your mouth twitched as you forced yourself to keep a stoic expression. Your nerves were around the place but you didn’t need Marvel knowing that. 

“Come on 10, it’s not that hard.” He said as he retrieved the spear. You could see his muscles when he grabbed the base of the spear, using force to get it out of the foam head he had stuck it through. 

“(Y/n)?” Buckley called your name. You turned around and saw him on the opposite side of the room. He gave you the ‘you good?’ eyes. Dismissing him you turned back around to face Marvel who was examining the build of the spear. 

“These things are wicked huh? I’ve never seen one this sleek.” He commented, running his hands over the metallic stick. 

“The Capitol loves making things shiny.” Came your reply. Since your talk with Dolly, you’ve come to learn that being friendly with the careers might be your only way of not getting killed in the games, especially now that snow was on your case. 

Marvel looked astounded that you even spoke. You’d kept quiet for the most part. Your comment made his smirk grow. Marvel handed the spear to you. It was only then that you noticed he smelled like cologne. It was sharp enough to give you a headache. It didn’t surprise you that he would take advantage of the Capitol’s amenities. He was from district one after all. 

“Here, I’ll try again.” You got into a stance, “Can you show me how you get ready to throw?” Your voice sounded artificial. You knew he could tell you were acting differently. He raised an eyebrow but helped you anyways. 

“You want to spread your feet. No-not like that.” He said as he tapped your leg to fix your stance. “Make sure you don’t poke your damn eye out.” Marvel warned as he fixed your arm. When he saw that you had perfected your stance he nodded. “Alright, that's a start. Go.” He ordered. 

You mentally slapped yourself. You had made the spear go through the dummy’s neck- which was impressive, however you didn’t like the fact that you needed Marvel’s help in order to attain it. 

“Look at that!” He shouted. Marvel looked proud, he wrapped an arm over your shoulder and you quickly stepped away from him. “Not bad.” He said still impressed by your work. “If it were up to me you’d be in our pack.” He joked. 

“Are you serious?” Again, you never knew when he was lying. 

“No. Of course not.” He said and walked away to bug some other poor tribute. 

.

.

.

.

.

“You guys know what to do right?” Ramsey and Dolly stood by the door as they watched the district 9 tributes enter the waiting room. 

“Show off?” Buckley answered. 

“Exactly. You have fifteen minutes, so use them wisely.” Dolly looked nervous. You wondered if she was worried about you since you hadn’t shown as much skill as Buckley since you got here. 

“If they get bored of you they’ll ask you to leave earlier, so don’t bore them.” Ramsey eyed the two of you. “I assume you’ll be showing off your throwing skills?” He turned to Ramsey. He shrugged, “I’m teetering between that and strength.” 

“Remember, the higher you score, the more likely you are to get sponsors.” You could tell that was aimed towards you by the way Dolly intentionally faced Buckley. 

It didn’t take a genius to piece together that you were the weak link in the district 10 team. A few other tributes made their way to the waiting room, leaving team 10 behind. 

“Alright, well they’ll call you by your names. Good luck.” Dolly bid the two of you farewell as she and Ramsey turned to make their leave. 

“They didn’t even ask you what you chose.” Buckley commented, sticking to your side as the doors to the waiting room opened. 

If it weren’t for the fact that it was deadly quiet, you would’ve responded to him. Instead you sat down next to the district 9 and 11 tributes, sandwiched in the middle. The freckled girl looked at you, offering a scared look, the boy next to her looked frightened as well. You could tell they didn’t speak much by the way they weren’t facing each other. On the other side of Buckley sat a small girl with the curliest locks you’ve ever seen. You’ve seen her before, each time a sharp pain would reach your heart since she looked so young and innocent. The thought of her meeting her demise in the arena sickened you and you wished that she’d at least go peacefully. Next to her was Thresh. You knew his name since he was the biggest one here, everyone even Cato seemed to be wary of him. You even heard Pradain talk about how he’d probably be this year’s victor. 

You hadn’t noticed how anxious Buckley was. In fact this was the first time you’ve noticed how much he bounced his leg and fiddled with his fingers. In your eyes he was the peace in all of this chaos, always finding a way to calm you down, even in the moments where the two of you faced the reality of possibly having to kill each other. 

The nerves in your body were just as bad as his, but you fought to put a smile on his face, your hand going to his forearm as a way to reassure him. He nodded at your action, his bounces dying down. As you removed your hand you noticed the girl from 12 observing you. She had a blank expression on her face, and before you could return it the intercom went off. 

“Marvel Sanford.” 

Everyone’s attention was on him as he stood up. 

“You got this Marvel.” Glimmer cheered him on, patting him on the back as he went to take his turn. He did a little pre-game jump before he disappeared into the other side. 

One by one the tributes went, some of them taking longer than others. The careers took the longest, you assumed the game makers were infatuated with their natural-born skills. As it got closer to the lower districts, the tributes took less, some of them lasting not even 5 minutes. Soon enough it was Buckley’s turn. 

“You’ll do great.” You didn’t know how well your words would encourage him, but you hoped he’d feel less anxious about the whole thing. 

“Thanks.” He smiled, leaving you alone with the tributes from 11 and 12. 

Once again quiet filled the room. You looked over at the tributes and observed them, making eye contact with the little girl. She looked away quickly before you could give her a smile. The baker from 12 also made eye contact with you. It lingered for a while, the two of you feeling a spark of similarity, it was like looking at a mirror. You recognized the look on his face. 

“You had blood on your clothes when you got reaped.” The girl from 12 spoke up, probably noticing how long you had been staring at them. 

Not sure if you should respond, you simply nodded. 

The boy gave her a look but she ignored him, pressing on. “Why?” 

The tributes from 11 were now also intrigued, Thresh turning to size you up. 

“I-” Your voice came out crackled from the lack of speaking, “I was working in my reaping clothes.” You replied quietly as if you’d just gotten in trouble. 

“Oh.” There was a lull and silence overtook the room once again. “You’re a butcher?” 

You shrugged. You could tell why the baker looked like that, you assumed she was the more capable one from the two of them. She was his Buckley. 

She left the conversation at that. You thought to yourself. Were people afraid of you? You hoped the Capitol didn’t paint you as some psychopath, although you’d take psycho over a ditzy cowgirl. 

“(Y/N) Cuernos.” The speaker announced your turn. Buckley came back from the doors, his face red and misty from sweat. He gave you a look, a silent cheer as he left. 

The training arena looked scarier when it was empty. All the weapons were lined up at the same point, tables with supplies were also lined up, the two opposite of eachother. Tributes got to choose what they wanted to show off, and it was between survival and combat skills. 

The game makers were enjoying their drinks, laughing up there as if they didn’t have a job to do. Seneca Crane, a devilish looking man who happened to be the head game maker was causing a ruckus up there. His jokes seemed to have a chokehold on the men as they laughed their drinks down. 

You had 15 minutes. 15 minutes to impress a group of drunk men who weren’t even paying attention to you. Immediately you looked for rope. There was no way you’d score high with a weapon. On the steel table there were about three piles of rope. It was dark and heavy, and unlike any you’d seen before. You struggled to pick them all up, but eventually hoisted them on your shoulder as you began to scurry around. 

Memories were what you relied on as you quickly unraveled the rope, your hands working fast as you tied knots. Your mind went back to when you were young and working as a farmhand with Amaranto. The old man who you had worked for would always forget to close his gate right, causing all the livestock to scurry around. Even though you were small, you had a fire burning inside of you. Amaranto taught you how to make a lasso, more importantly he taught you how to rope in the livestock. On weekends you’d practice your lasso skills with him, trying to see who could bring down barrels full of sand the quickest. 

Suddenly you were back home. The dummies in front of you were  the frantic animals trying to run into the forbidden lands. You built up speed, spinning the lasso in different directions, the time showing as the first one immediately fell. Embarrassed, you looked over to the game makers and to your relief they still weren’t paying attention. You tried again, this time you had an idea of how to get it to work, the child in you peeking out as you managed to get the loop over a dummy’s head. Quickly with force you pulled it close to you, the dummy falling with a loud thud that echoed through the metallic room. 

You took haste as you worked your muscles to bring it next to you. It was heavier than you anticipated, you groaned with every pull. The game makers were now watching you, curious as to what the hell you were doing. You didn’t stop there. Once it was close enough to you, you knelt down to tie it in a hogtie. It took longer than you remembered, and you were sure it was a weak tie. Immediately after you finished, you went to grab the other lasso, this time showing off since you knew they were watching you. Once again with full force you threw the rope over another dummy, repeating the process only this time quicker. Your third and Final attempt was faster, this time you took down two dummies at the same time. 

By the time you were done the cheeks on your face had reddened, your hair was messy from wiping your forehead of sweat. When you looked back up the only audience you had were about four game makers, the rest of them going back to drinking. As you were dismissed you couldn’t help but feel impressed by yourself. You’d left the dummies on the ground, bound and tied. You only hoped you’d be able to do that in the arena. 

When you arrived on your floor, Buckley was already in the shower. Dolly greeted you and sat you down. 

“How’d it go?”  Her bright eyes looked excited, hoping to hear something good. 

“They were drunk, so I don’t think they were paying much attention, but good I hope.” Her face fell when you told her that. 

“Those assholes.” She sneered. 

“What did you end up doing?” She pressed on. 

“Lasso tricks.” You should have worded it better, but you didn’t want her to be disappointed when they gave you a 4 for showing off the best ability you thought of at the time. 

“Lasso tricks? That’s it? Like swinging around a rope?” She seemed surprised, irritated almost. “(Y/n), ya were supposed t’ show off dear.” 

“I did.” 

“S’pose that’ll feed into the whole act Snow’s got  you doing.” She sighed. 

“About that- Dolly.” There were a few questions you had in mind. “I don’t have to keep that up in the arena do I?” 

She clicked her tongue, “Truth be told I think it depends. If the arena you get is western then yes, but either way I think you’ll have to keep it up until he shows interest in another tribute.” She warned. Interest in Snow was like a Lion being interested in a wounded gazelle. 

“Dolly I don’t think I’m gonna win.” In your heart you knew it was true. No matter how many people wished for the odds to be in your favor, you knew you wouldn’t see home again. 

“Don’t say-” 

“No. I mean it.” Your mood had shifted immensely, and once again you were breaking down. The games were so close, the only thing left being the interviews before you met your eventual demise. “I have no skills, there’s about 9 tributes here who can kill me no problem, and probably more that are hiding the fact that they can kill me.” You choked trying to not ugly cry in front of your mentor. 

“(Y/n)-” You cut her off again. 

“I’ve got about three Careers who have it out for me only because I won’t be their little bitch, I don’t think I’d be able to kill Buckley if I win, and I’m weaker than I’ve ever been. I can’t even hold my own in combat.” You sniffed. Your eyes were hurting now, you’d been holding in your tears and they were starting to fall involuntarily. “I can’t do this.” 

Dolly sighed, she rubbed your back. “Look- even if you don’t think you can, you have to try. You’re going to try. I am not going to let you go in there thinking you’re going to die. Alright? Me and Ramsey are gonna go around getting people to sponsor you. You just try to survive alright? Hide out just make sure the game makers don’t catch on, try to live until you’re the last one there. Most importantly put on a show.” She paused to wipe your tears away. “What do all of the Victors have in common?” She asked as you sniffled. “They all put on shows. And you-” She poked your chest. “You are going to put on the best one alright? That’s all they want.” 

A good show. Show. To you it was life or death. To them you were entertainment. That’s why the crowd went wild when you rode the horse, why they cheered when the coal miners caught on fire, why they ogled over Glimmer’s  looks. 

Nodding you let yourself fall into Dolly’s arms. The lady was kind enough to hold you in her arms until you calmed down. 

When it was time for the evaluations to be announced, all of you gathered in the lounging area. Pradain in his usual spot, sprawled on a couch, Sashay and the other stylish sitting in the loveseats spread around the room. Dolly, Buckley, Ramsey and you were on the main couch facing the giant screen.

“Good evening folks! I’m Caesar Flickerman live from the Capitol as we announce the 74th hunger game’s tribute evaluations!” He cheered, his white teeth contrasting his nearly orange skin. Claudias Templesmith introduced himself as well but everyone knew that Caesar was the star host. 

“It’s starting, everybody shut up.” Rasmey announced as he turned the volume up. 

“Here.” You had gotten a small cupcake for Buckley and yourself from the dining table. 

“Thanks.” He took it and immediately swallowed it whole- or at least it looked that way. 

“From district 1 Marvel! With a score of 9.” Buckley noticed you shift uncomfortably. 

“Glimmer with a score of 9!” Of course they’d score high. It was just another day for them. 

“From District 2, Cato with a score of.. 10!” The host said, his eyes wide. “Also from 2 Clove with a score of 10.”

“God damn.” Buckley said surprised. “She’s so tiny!” 

The scores kept going, the lowest so far being a 3. You prayed that you’d at least get a 4. 

You had held onto Dolly’s hand, your other hand in Buckley’s as you waited for your scores. Time felt so slow. The anticipation makes you want to go up to Caesar and just tell him to say it already. 

“From district 10, Buckley Wheaton…” His grip tightened on your hand. “With a score of 9!” Everyone cheered. He shook your shoulders, happy with his score. You laughed with joy, however the room fell quiet again when your name was called. 

“(Y/n) Cuernos…” You felt like throwing up, “with a score of 6!” Immediately you could feel the room’s mood change. 

Dolly’s voice faltered, “Hey! That’s better than a 4! And above a 5! That’s good.” She tried to lift you up, but you sat there on the brink of another breakdown. 

“Let’s hear it for our tributes!” Pradain smiled, lifting up a plate with shot glasses. He passed them around, offering one to you and Buckley as well. 

“To (Y/n) and Buckley!” He announced, and everybody drank. 

Your face scrunched up from the foreign taste, yet Buckley looked unphased. 

The screen was still playing, and you could hear them announce the rest of the tributes. “From district 11 Thresh, with a 10!” He said happy to see another high score after  an hour of low scores. “Rue with a score of 7.” You wondered what she had done to get a score so high. Your ego definitely was down after that, crushed even more by the fact a small 12 year old girl could score higher than you. 

“From district 12 Peeta, with a score of 8.” 

Everyone commented on how they didn’t expect him to be high up. However the most shocking score was yet to come. 

“Katniss. With a score of… oh my- 11!” The collective gasp around the room was hilarious to you. 

“Damn-” Buckley commented, “an 11? How is that even possible..” 

“Heard from Effie that she stuck an arrow through an apple in a pig’s mouth, right at the game maker’s balcony.” Pradain giggled as he continued to sip on some champagne he had poured himself. 

The girl who had asked you about your clothes, the one who you knew had something about her, had scored an 11. A sense of happiness washed over you as you knew that Cato was having a bitch fit right now. 

After the evaluations were through, everyone returned to their own. Except for you and Buckley who were having a late night snack of cheese and fruit. 

“What’s your strategy?” Buckley asked, the two of you alone in the lounging room. 

“Hmm? What do you mean?” It didn’t strike you as something he’d bring up. Maybe he was trying to figure out if he had to protect you or not. 

“Like other than survive.” He broke off a grape, sticking it into his mouth. 

“I’m not sure. I was thinking of just trying to avoid the tributes, hopefully make an alliance with the girl from 5.” You shrugged. It was the truth. After today you knew that everyone would be out for Katniss, moreover, your low score either meant you were going to be killed first, or kept off the radar. “Dolly says I gotta keep up the cowgirl act in the arena.” 

“Why the girl from 5? And what do you mean keep up the act? What act is there to keep up? Shouldn’t you be focused on surviving rather than keeping the president happy?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“She seems smart. She knows how to keep a low profile anyways.” You shrugged. “I think keeping the president happy is what’ll keep me alive longer. What about you Buck, any strategies you’d like to share?” 

“We can stick together.” He offered. 

“Not happening.” He looked almost offended. 

“Well why not?” 

“Because, respectfully, I don’t want to be dead weight. You actually have a chance.” You’ve had this conversation before. It was always the same thing. He had a big heart, but there was no room for heart in the games. 

“(y/n)-” 

“What’s your strategy?” You hoped he would change the subject. He sighed, his big eyes falling to the ground. 

“I guess just try to survive, not kill. I don’t know if I’d be able to kill anyone really.” There was sadness in his face. “I’m pretty big, so I guess I’ll have to try to not get killed by the Careers. I mean I’d want to have an alliance with Thresh but- I’m pretty sure he’s got a lone wolf thing going on.” He rambled on. 

You smiled at him, “It’s gonna be hard to hide huh?” 

He let out a breathy laugh, “Pretty much.”

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Tags: @randomgurl2326

[leviathansshadycorner]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I love the Cato series!! It’s so good and I’m so exited for the next part! <33

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 5

Summary: (Y/n) begins training.

A/n: Thank you for the support!!!! I love y'all!! Sorry for the wait lol life has been hard. Sorry for any typos or OOC moments. Again thank you so much for the support it means the world to me especially right now.

Pt.4 Pt.3 Pt.2 Pt.1

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Chapter 5: Training pt. 1

“Do you think they’ll have us fight against each other?” Buckley’s voice interrupted your intense glaring to the careers waking up ahead to the training center. 

“Probably not, they’re already making us do that anyway.” You reminded him, scratching the back of your neck since the fabric of the training uniform had a tag that had not been cut off. 

All of the tributes were lined up in pairs. Peacekeepers decorated the walls of the building as they carefully observed the tributes making their way into the arena. The doors leading to the arena were that familiar steel material, and white futuristic lights lit the path towards the center. You could hear the careers boasting about how they couldn’t wait to get their hands on certain weapons, and how much they missed training. It was an odd thing to hear and the non-career districts were visibly confused with their behavior. 

Everyone was lined up in a semicircle, gathering around a lady with two pigtails. She introduced herself as the overseer of the training arena and began to explain the rules. She mentioned how tributes should not only focus on combat but survival skills as well. 

Buckley seemed notably irritated. You had no idea why. Was it something you had said? Deciding to dismiss it, you focused your attention up ahead. Unfortunately for you, all the tributes had to participate in mandatory stations. 

“What should we do?” Buckley asked, his eyes scanning the other tributes as they all dispersed around the training center. Some of the tribute pairs stayed together, following each other around and choosing to train as partners. The rest went on to train individually. It was clear that they either didn’t trust who they came in with, or cared less about them. The careers all huddled around lethal weapons. Quickly it was established that Cato was the leader of the pack. Even Marvel didn’t bother to fight over the role of the leader. 

It was like they had their own private island. All the other tributes steered clear of whichever section of the room they would move to. You and Buckley were still the only ones who hadn’t moved. It was obvious he was hoping to stick together but you couldn’t risk that. You were already a target in the eyes of the career. Not because of your strength, but because you had hurt their leader’s ego during the parade. You’d practically be leading Buckley to his death if he stayed close to you for too long. Then again, you weren’t going to let fear get in your way. 

“Why don’t we stick with each other? That way we can scope out who we have to watch out for.” He nodded, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off, “Let's start with survival training.” 

There were a variety of stations on the leftmost side of the arena. It was dedicated to building shelters, starting fires, and memorizing edible food. The middle part of the training center was dedicated to more physical training. It was where capitol trainers engaged in hand-to-hand with tributes, reflex tests were, and where obstacles to climb and jump over were placed. The right side was where the careers had set residence. It held a display of weapons and training dummies. It was almost too overwhelming for you. The lights disoriented you and the sounds of clinking metal and forceful grunts overstimulated you a bit too much. The arena was cold. The uniform you had been forced to wear didn’t do as good of a job of keeping you warm. Then again, these were designed to fight against sweat, not the cold. As you attempted to tuck your hands in your arms for warmth, you decided to walk around. You needed to scope out the stations that would serve you use to practice. A couple caught your eye, the fire-making station, rope and knot stations, and the station showing how to properly cook prey. 

Needing to get out of the hecticness of it all, you and Buckley quickly beelined it towards the fire making station. The girl from 12 had previously been there, although she already seemed skilled at it. The two of you sat directly across from each other. The bundle of sticks in the middle had regenerated themselves. The heated ashy remains were now back to firm little twigs. 

“Do you remember what Dolly and Ramsey told us?” You didn’t even need to ask. Of course Buckley remembered.

“Yeah, they told us not to show our strengths.” He replied. “I’m pretty sure that’s what all mentors tell their tributes though.” 

“Well not all of them.” You added, eyes wandering to the spartan soldiers across the room. They weren’t holding back. Each hit they dealt whether it be a punch or a spear to a dummy was filled with pride. It was in fact their way of showing everyone else that they were the future victors. 

“What’s their deal anyways?” Buckley’s hands were rubbing the stick down on a rock to try to ignite it. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, trying to start your own fire now. 

“The careers. They look like they’re ready to kill you and the games haven’t even started.” His eyebrows furrowed out of confusion. 

You didn’t understand him. Surly he had met one of the career’s gazes at some point during your stay so far. “That’s how they look at everybody.” 

“No, it's different with you. It's like- They give you more attention then they do to other people.” He had managed to make the stick smoke. 

“Jealous that they don’t wanna kill you as much as they wanna kill me?” You briefly stopped to look at him with a sarcastic smile. His lips turned into a frown, and you realized he was concerned for you. 

“I think they’re mad I stole their spotlight.” You offered. 

“But that was like a second of time?” Buckley’s tone was in disbelief. “Plus the real star was the girl from 12. No offense.” He quickly put a hand on your shoulder. 

“None taken.” You patted his hand and redirected it back to his task.

“Is that really all? They must have really fragile egos.” He stopped what he was doing, curious as to why they were so petty.

“Well, Cato does. The rest of them are like sheep. They follow him around like that anyways.” You both turned to look at the careers. They were deeply focused. Eventually, they moved onto sparring with the trainers. 

“What are we going to do?” He wondered. He seemed lost. 

“Hope that Thresh takes him out at the start.” It was a morbid thing for you to say, but Cato was a major threat. Especially to you. 

The conversation died out to mundane talk. You both found yourselves homesick even though it hasn’t even been a week.  You wondered how Amaranto was doing. If your father was alright and not ill. If Clarabell was keeping their spirits up or at least trying to. You thought of the smell. Though it may seem unpleasant to the likes of the capitol, it was soothing for you. After years of living there, you’d gotten used to the earthy scent. The capitol smell was overwhelming at times. If it wasn’t sterile and metallic, it was floral and sickeningly sweet. 

As the day went on you and Buckley were getting the hang of things. It seemed like everyone was saving their skills for the arena. The survival section quickly filled up, causing you and a couple of others to switch to the weapons section. Every half hour the tributes would have to regroup and do a series of physical tests assigned by the trainers. The tributes would always go first, wanting to get back to training as soon as possible. It was clear they loved showing off. Even going beyond the one-time requirement and doing the task twice. 

The careers made it their job to criticize every tribute. They stood not at the sidelines- but directly in front of the stations, making it impossible for the tributes to have an ounce of confidence. Sometimes they’d look away, bored at the current subject. They’d give looks of disdain to the ones that showed their capabilities.  Worse of all they’d laugh at the tributes who showed weakness and weren’t capable of making it all the way through. 

It was hard to perform decently when you had eyes glued onto you. Buckley had gone by easily. He struggled a bit with hand to hand combat, but he practically breezed by. He didn’t overdo it however, lucky for him the career pack didn’t look too interested in him. At first they glared at him, probably expecting him to show off, their glares quickly faded and they soon showed no interest at all. When it was your turn you swear you could’ve heard some snarky comment come out of one of their mouths. 

You chose to pay no mind to it. Your palms were uncomfortably sweaty. Your vision was becoming blurred. The constant “Whenever you’re ready.” Weren’t helping. Taking a deep breath in, you went forth. You had to climb your way across some bars, easy in theory. You weren’t the tallest person here, not the shortest either, but the fall seemed detrimental. In fact there had been a previous accident. A boy with dark hair had fallen off the bars and injured his leg. You were concerned for him. Did the Capitol have the technology to cure a broken leg before the games?

The group training ended much to everyone’s pleasure. Buckley was examining the knives. You wondered if he’d give it a go. He was pretty skilled when it came to throwing them. You watched from afar. You yourself were at a station dealing with a fishing line. You’re not sure why it was there hence why you chose it. Buckley was swift with his movements. His fingers let go of the throwing knife and he watched as it glided to its target. The knife barely made it to the center of the dummy’s head, if anything it was lodged in the eye area rather than the forehead, but it was still impressive. 

“Amateur.” Clove insulted. It was loud enough for you to hear, but Buckley was too far to hear it himself. You watched as she resumed her training, Cato being the one to calm her down. She seemed insulted that Buckley was good at her favorite skill. 

Quickly you made your way to your fellow tribute. He seemed impressed by his own skills. “Did ya see that? Right in the eye.” He spoke, his voice proud. 

“Buckley, you’re amazing.” You reassured him. Now that you were next to him you could see how far away the dummy really was. If you were to try there was no guarantee that you’d make it. His strength and past experience with throwing really paid off. 

“Why aren’t you celebrating with me?” He asked playfully once your demeanor shifted from impressed to on survival mode. 

“Clove’s got an eye on you.” You warned him. 

“I can tell.” He processed what you had said. Looking at her direction he was met with her deadly side eye. 

“She seems unstable.” You spoke truthfully. 

“They all do. They are.” He added. “You know, I feel like someone needs to give them a reality check.” 

“What do you mean by that?” His words worried you. 

“I mean we need to show them they’re not the shit.” He said picking up another knife. 

“Buckley!” You grabbed his shoulder and leaned in to whisper and yell at him. “Our mentors specifically told us not to show off.” 

“(Y/n), don’t act like you haven't shown off.” His words hit you like a hurricane. He was right. “Worst they can do is kill us.” He joked as you stepped aside to let him prove himself. 

Your focus shifted from the careers to Buckley as he lifted the throwing knife to give it another shot. In a sense, Buckley was right. The careers really were on their high horse thinking of themselves as unstoppable. It was getting annoying, and you were starting to get fed up as well. Cato already had his eye on you. So clove’s would be next to nothing. 

The thump of wood being penetrated by a knife echoed in your ears as the world froze. The confidence you had a second ago was gone. Time seemed to go by slowly. As if on cue a huff of a laugh came from Marvel. His cheeks round as a smile formed. Buckley had hit a bullseye. 

“Nice job 10.” Marvel shouted from across the room. Sarcasm was in his voice, but you couldn’t tell if he meant it. 

“Done?” You asked Buckley, hoping he’d be finished causing a scene. Clove’s dark eyes filled with rage. It baffled you how seriously she took the whole situation. 

“Oh no, it's your turn now.” He said. Immediately you backed away. 

“I think you’re actually going insane. Do you need me to ask for some medication?” You were snapping back. 

“No. Come on. Try it.” He said, placing his hands on your back as he nudged you towards the table with knives. 

“I’m not good at this. Buckley, If I mess up, they’re going to think I’m weak.” You confided in him. 

“But if you do good they’ll think you're strong.” He countered. “Plus, wouldn’t you rather have them see you weak? Maybe then the meathead will leave you alone.” 

“Your logic makes no sense.” You were about to back out completely when you caught sight of the career pack waiting on your next move. Glimmer gave you a condescending smile. Clove was still focused on Buckley. Both Cato and Marvel were talking, all of them watching you, taunting you. 

“Fine.” You gave in. There was no way you’d give them the satisfaction of rejecting a challenge. You felt like a bull around a red cape around them. They made your blood boil just by existing. The careers had the best lives out of all the other tributes in the game, yet they always liked making people miserable. At times they felt like the enemy. Even though they got here under similar circumstances. 

Buckley smiled as you grabbed a small knife. It was the size of your palm, yet comfortable to hold. You weren’t sure what to do with it. It sat in your hand like a glob of honey as you anxiously looked around. 

“What am I supposed to do?” You asked him. 

He was quick to help you. “Stand upright,” He put a hand on your back to force a good posture. He then tapped your feet with his to give you the correct footing. “You’re gonna want to follow through. Don’t overthink it too much. The tall man stood next to you as he demonstrated what to do with your arms. You mimicked his movement the first time around, soon practicing it three more times. “Remember (Y/n), don’t overthink it.” 

You nodded as you prepared your throw. Taking a short breath you threw your arm backward and then forcefully forward, missing the dummy completely, but hitting the one behind it near its thigh. The knife didn’t stay in however, it fell after being stuck for about three seconds. 

Your eyes were teary. The warmth in your face grew and you suddenly wanted to be thrown into the games. You stood in place, afraid to move. How dare you embarrass yourself?

“That’s a start,” Buckley said kindly. You turned to look at the careers but Buckley spared you the pain and grabbed your shoulders to look at him. “Don’t worry about them.” 

“I. Told. You. I. Wasn’t. Good.” You spoke in pauses. You felt a mix of shame and anger. Shame for not being able to prove yourself, and anger towards Buckley for making you embarrass yourself. 

“(Y/n), I’m sorry. But hey its ok! Here lets try again.” Buckley held your arm. You wanted to leave, but you had about three more hours of training. You said nothing and instead looked off into the distance. You were really wasting time by not doing anything, but you were overwhelmed at this point. 

“Look I just thought since you work with knives back in 10 you’d be-” His apology was cutoff by a sudden thump of wood. Cato had stealthily moved next to the two of you. The career had thrown two knives at the training dummy. Effortlessly.  He turned to face the both of you. 

“Giving up already? What happened to the girl who rode a Capitol horse?” He taunted. He was arrogantly fiddling with a throwing knife. 

Buckley knew better than to start anything, but he wasn’t going to let you take it. “She just got started.” He came to your defense. 

Truthfully, you didn’t want to interact with Cato. You had learned to stay away from him. Everyone saw how he handled the situation with the tribute he thought to have stolen his knife. He was a ticking time bomb. Anything could set him off. You didn’t turn around. Instead you kept staring into the distance. This only seemed to aggravate him. Cato had walked in front of you, knife in his hand as he grabbed yours. He looked at you with intensity as he placed the knife in your palm. 

“Don’t wimp out now 10.” 

Buckley was preparing himself to end the interaction between you two, but he stopped in his tracks when a knife flew past him. It was a reckless throw, but it managed to actually go through the dummy. This time on it’s side. 

“Why don’t you turn around and try that again?” Cato questioned as he leaned against a metal table. 

It seemed like the spotlight was once again on you. People around were now tuning into the scene. Cato’s arms transformed as he uncrossed them, his muscles relaxing. You however were far from relaxed.

“What the fuck could you possibly want from me? Why are you here? Do you have nothing better to do?” You interrogated as you stepped closer to him. It was clear he had finally struck the last nerve. Buckley looked confused but pale as his concern for his fellow tribute grew. You weren’t yelling at him, but nobody dared to get within an inch from Cato. 

His eyes were void of emotion. “I’m just trying to help out the competition. If I’m going to win this, I want to win because I’m the strongest. Not because everyone else was weak and at a disadvantage.” He spoke back methodically. He didn’t move at all. The two of you seemed to be frozen in time- glaring at each other. 

It wasn’t long before he left. Leaving you fuming alongside Buckley.

____________________________________

Tags: @randomgurl2326

[leviathansshadycorner]

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

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 3

Summary: (Y/n) is a horse girl.

A/n: I love Pradain

Pt.2 Pt.1

____________________________________

Chapter 3: The Capitol

Buckley’s laughter subsided as the train stopped. Pradain hurriedly gathered his belongings and made sure the two of you were ready and presentable. 

“God, we’ve got to do something about that blood-stained shirt of yours.” Pradain said, looking around the room. “You, give her your shirt.” He ordered Ramsey, who was already unbuttoning his flannel. 

The tall mentor draped his cologne-drenched flannel on top of you and you fixed it onto your body. “Thank you.” 

The station was large, the structure looked so futuristic you wondered how they managed to build it up so high. 

“Alright, so first you’re going to go check in.” Dolly explained to the two of you. “Then you’ll get taken in to get groomed.” She continued. 

“After that you’ll meet your assigned stylist and you’ll get your clothes fitted onto you.” Ramsey butted in. “After that we head to the chariots. There’s time in between where the tributes just wait, so you’ll have time to scope out the tributes, don’t form any alliances yet.” 

“Save that for the training days, and don’t make enemies.” Dolly said, looking both of you and Buckley in the face. 

“So… When do we get to eat?” Buckley said, looking around for any signs of animals. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that bud. You have about a week or so to enjoy the food.” Ramsey said. 

Your little group walked and you could see other trains arrive behind yours. Up ahead were other groups, walking into the station that would lead to one of the city's entrances. 

“‘S kinda cold,” Buckley whispered to you. 

“It is, isn't it? Not warm and cozy like home.” You said a little sarcastically commenting on the Texan heat. 

It felt like miles until you made it to the Capitol’s entrance. Your mouth was open like a little kid witnessing Christmas lights for the first time. The Capitol looked advanced yet so bland. There were people everywhere crowding around barriers to witness the tributes fresh from the trains. You felt like a zoo animal, everyone’s eyes trying to peek at you. 

When you made it to the tribute building you had to line up with the female tributes as the workers pricked your fingers and gave you a quick physical. The people here looked so clean. Not a single blemish on their skin. Even their beauty marks were drawn on. You wondered if they were even human. To you it seemed like an alternate universe run by alien creatures. 

You managed to look over at the male tribute line looking for Buckley. Unfortunately, your eyes caught green-blue eyes with a brown tint. He raised a blonde eyebrow at you and you quickly looked away from the tall boy. 

Dolly led you to some doors and behind them were people who were dressed in white smocks holding magnifying glasses. The victor handed you over to a tall dark skinned lady and  a shorter man with green eyebrows. 

“(Y/n), these are Silica and Depil. Now don’t be scared, they’re not going to hurt you, they're only here to help you ok? You’ll be fine.” The curly haired woman told you as the  pair grabbed you by your arms and led you into a room with copious white lights. 

“We got a lot to work with.” Silica said as she handed you a hospital gown. “Put this on, take off everything.” She instructed you as she and her partner gathered their first materials. 

They hosed you off first then threw some white powder all over your body- your guess was that they were trying to de-flea you, not like you needed it anyways. They rinsed you again, this time scrubbing your body. It felt so dehumanizing. You had to zone out in order to not cry through the whole thing. The two worked to wax you, groom your facial hair, and polish your nails until they were sparkling. They even cut a few inches off your hair, making it a little shorter than how you liked it. 

When they were done they rolled their carts away, leaving you alone to look at yourself. The smell was fragrant, sweet almost like candy. It was good and you couldn’t help but sniff your arms where the perfume lingered. Mid sniff was when your stylist walked in. She wore a huge purple wig that ran down her back. Her caramel skin shimmered with glitter as she stepped into the lit room. Her icy blue eyes looked at you and she smiled, “Oh you’re the perfect canvas,” She said, and you couldn’t help but notice the gems on her teeth, 

“Hello darling, I’m Sashay.” She greeted you, her skin-tight outfit hugging her body as she shimmied closer to you. “Now, you’re from 10 right?” 

“Yes.” You told her, eyes fixed on her beauty. 

“(Y/n)? Right? Or do you prefer something else?” She asked, picking up your arm which you retracted at first but then eased into her touch. 

“(Y/n)’s fine.” Your body shifted on the cold metallic bed. 

“Alright well, I want to congratulate you for being so brave.” She started taking your hand. “I’m going to style you during your time here. I’m here to make sure you look stunning in the eyes of the Capitol.” Sashay smiled, kissing your hand. “Do you have any questions?” 

You could still feel the ghost stings of the wax strips as you stood up to walk to Sashay’s studio. “Not at the moment.” 

“Alright then.” 

The two of you walked into her studio where colorful clothing littered the racks they were hung on. She had a portfolio displayed on an easel, and a large sketch of a cowgirl outfit on another. 

“Me and Buckley’s stylist worked together on these.” She said holding up a clothing hanger containing your outfit. 

On the hanger was a cowboy button up, it was white and gold and had tassels alongside the arms. The bottoms were golden chaps, also tassel. Just as you were about to ask where the rest of the pants were, Sashay turned to you. 

“You’ll be wearing shorts with those.” She told you. “There’s a matching hat and boots.” Sashay tells you as she gets out her sketchpad and pencil and begins to scribble on it while staring at you intensely. 

“I’ll help you get dressed in a moment dear.” She speaks, her sultry voice powerful. 

Red creeps up to your face. Were you actually going to wear this costume? Your legs would be out and about in front of millions of people. You were nervous to say the least. You wondered if Buckley would have to wear the same exact thing. 

“So cowboys huh?” Cowboys were basically eradicated 50 years ago, since the President thought they were a group of rebels. Of course he wasn’t wrong, but cowboy and vaquero culture had been long gone from 10. “Isn’t that against the rules?” You asked, but you were glad that you weren’t going out dressed as a giant chicken or pig.

“Oh please sweetie, last year the tributes from 12 were practically naked. There are no rules when it comes to fashion. Except the ones that prevent people from wearing horrendous clothes.” Sashay tells you as she finishes her sketch. “Alright then love, let’s make you pretty. 

Taking a huff of air you nodded and hesitantly took off the hospital gown. Sashay delicately placed the golden undergarments on your body, soon following them up with the actual costume. “Hair and makeup will be done by your grooming team.” She explained as she buttoned up the shirt. “So hold onto the hat and put it on when you’re on your chariot.” She buckled the belt on you, making sure the chaps weren’t falling off. 

“Sadly I couldn’t get you a lasso, it would’ve added so much, but Snow said no props.” Her hands tied a little bolo tie around you. “You look so dashing.” She stepped away to take in her work. 

You felt like a little girl’s doll. The costume fit you well, except Sashay had to pin a few things into place and sew in an extra button. You held onto the golden hat and looked at her with scared eyes. She pointed to a mirror covered by a curtain. As you walked to it and flung the curtain to the side you almost gasped. This was the first time you saw yourself since arriving. Your hair was shiny, your skin looked flawless- all previous scars were gone, the costume hugged you in all the right places. The only thing really bugging you was the lack of pants, though the chaps managed to cover a majority of your legs. The little golden shorts were too skimpy for your taste, but you had to admit that Sashay really worked her magic on you. 

“Come on now, 15 minutes until curtain. Let’s see if Silica and Depil can work under pressure. Oh who am I kidding? Of course they can!” She laughed as she took you out of her studio and back out into the grooming room. 

“No time- turns out we start at 10.” Depil says, his brows straight and serious. “We’re gonna have to walk and work.” He told Sashay as Silica came to your right side. Together the two pampered your face with creams and oils, brushing color into your skin as the four of you walked out the building into an overpass leading to an outdoor stadium. Once you were out there your vision was filled with chaos. 

There were tributes still getting dressed, chariots the size of two cows, tributes boarding said chariots, and mentors walking around and socializing. 

“Goodness Depil, you’ve got to get that clock fixed. We have 20 minutes until the chariots start.” Sashay scolded, realizing there was no need to rush. 

“My bad.” The green haired man apologizes as he seats you down to work on your hair. 

He works quickly, braiding your hair then lifting it up into a milkmaid hairstyle. He added golden tinsel extensions to your hair, creating the illusion of twinkling locks. Gold eyeshadow was patted all over your lids, a sweet cream of gloss added to your lips, and as the finishing touch- they unbuttoned the top two buttons on your shirt. 

“Stunning.” 

“Gorgeous.” 

“Fabulous work.” 

The team of three admired you. 

“My goodness you made her so pretty!” A lady who Sashay called Effie smiled brightly, as she awed at you. 

Warmth filled your face and a shy smile found its way to your lips. “Thank you for your hard work.” You said bowing your head in a slight curtsey. 

“Thank you for cooperating (Y/n.)” Sashay grinned. 

Dolly eventually ended her conversation with another mentor and came over to ogle at you as well. “I’m not just saying this because I’m your mentor, but I think you’re the prettiest one here.” She winked. 

“You can say that again.” A voice came from behind you. It was Buckley. He too was wearing an outfit similar to yours, except he had actual pants. The front two buttons on his shirt were undone as well. 

“You look like your dad.” Came your reply trying to avert the comment. 

District 10 was one where everyone knew everyone. You included. You had previously met Buckley’s dad before his passing, he was quite kind to you and Amaranto, in fact he was one of the people who suggested you start working out at the slaughterhouse to make more ends meat. 

“Damn, Do I look that old already?” He joked, looking at himself in the reflection of your eyes. 

“Alright Kiddos, all you gotta do is go on the chariots and wave. It’s like a parade-” Ramsey said behind Buckley. 

“It is a parade.” Dolly corrected. “You need to make the crowd love you so smile, blow kisses, throw out a few winks if you need to.” 

“Oh! Tip your hats, they’ll love that.” Pradain said emerging with a wine glass. “You two look stunning.” He complimented. 

“First time you’ve said something nice to us.” Buckley said with a joking smile. 

As your little district 10 team chatted away, your gaze wandered around the room. You had to admit, your costumes were one of the best. The first place prize has to go to the tributes from 12. They looked sharp in their all black costumes, made them look powerful even. District 11 wore clothes similar to the fancy clothes in 10, and you wondered why their stylist didn’t put more effort into their costumes. As you scanned the room your eye was caught by another pair of gold wearing tributes. The careers from two, armored with gold plates. It was obvious their costumes had to be the most expensive ones. You were almost done looking at the other tributes when pink filled your eyes. 

Like a routine you made eye contact with the male from 1. He looked silly in the shimmering pink outfit and you tilted your head in confusion. He took notice and grinned, his own eyes looking you up and down before the girl from 1 snapped him back into the conversation she was having with their mentors. 

“Don’t stare too much.” Ramsey whispered to you. “They might think you want to kill them.” 

Nodding you spent the rest of your wait time talking to Dolly, asking her about her time in the capitol when she was a tribute in the games. Immediately you could hear the roars and cheers of the citizens as more of them began to fill the stadium’s seats. As if on time your heart started beating and the realization that you would be out in a crowd of people made you break into a sweat. As your head began to spin and the room seemed more cramped a harsh poke distracted you from your thoughts. 

“(Y/n), Look!” Buckley exclaimed, attracting stares. “Horses!” 

Whatever nerves you had were gone out the window when your eyes landed on the dark elegant creatures that trotted gracefully into view. 

“Horses..” A whisper came from your mouth and you were teleported to your childhood. 

The golden sun sets on the dry grass as your laughs fill the scene. Your mother with (h/c) hair and (s/c) skin waves you towards her as she grips onto the hair of a horse. Her boots bounce slightly at the sides of the animal as it trots her further along the field. You follow closely behind her, gaining speed as your own surpasses her. “Look Ma! Bet ya can’t catch up to me!” You giggle as you continue to ride into the light. 

Without warning your legs move you towards the black animal. The handler looks at you curiously but her face relaxes as you pet the animal’s side. Slowly more horses come in, each of them assigned to a chariot. You had forgotten all about the horses, since the cameras only ever focus on tributes and their faces. 

“They’re beautiful.” You tell Buckley as the two of you stare at them longingly. “I wanna ride one.” 

“What?” He looks at you as if you’re crazy. “You can’t be serious right?” 

“Dolly said all we had to do was get their attention.” You reminded him. 

“That is true… Do you even remember how?” He asked, “Is that even allowed?” 

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to find out.” You said with a determination that Buckley hadn’t seen since middle school. 

The stage directors flooded the area once there was three minutes left. They ordered everyone onto their respective chariots while stylists did their finishing touches. Your team waved at you as the chariots were ordered, the first one heading out already as the drums played them in. One by one the chariots were let out, your turn inching closely. You had a plan however, a plan so crazy you had zero chance of knowing if it would work. Buckley watched you intently, wondering if your crazy ass would actually go through with it. 

You waited for your chance. Outside the people were cheering at the tributes, throwing flowers at the ones they liked, hooting and hollering at the ones they really liked. The announcers’ commentary boomed throughout the stadium, their backhanded compliments making the Capitol citizens giggle. As your chariot neared the path 's opening you hopped off the chariot, making Buckley laugh and your mentors curse profanely.

“What the hell are you doing, get back on!” They yelled as peacekeepers were starting to make their way to you. 

The tributes both in front and behind you looked at your chariot wondering what all the commotion was. Hastily you ran up to the animal, struggling to get up on the horse. You repeatedly apologized to the horse as you grabbed onto its hair and finally fixed yourself on top of it. The horse neighed and bucked around a bit as you finally got out the arch and into the path of the parade. 

“What the!” Caesar Flickerman exclaimed as the cameras focused in on you. 

“What in the Capitol’s gem is happening ?” His fellow commentator yelled. 

You struggled to calm the horse down, your body tightening its grip so as to not fall off the horse. 

“Careful!” Buckley told you. 

“I got it!” You exclaimed as you soothed the horse. “SHhh it's ok, it's alright.” You had no idea how lucky you had gotten.

 The horse finally calmed down and you were finally able to look up at the crowd. Your face was being displayed on the holographic banners, the cheers and screams so loud your ears began to ring. Buckley waved eagerly, tipping his hat and taking it off to wave with it. You smiled, out of joy- not for being the star of the minute, but for being able to ride a horse for the first time after a long time. Your hand went up to wave at the crowd and people were smiling at you, throwing roses and other accessories at both you and Buckley. 

“What a hoot!” Flickerman laughed, “(Y/n) Cuernos  from district 10! Riding one of the chariot horses! You don’t see that everyday!” He smiled at the camera. 

“Now those tributes are proud members of 10, look at them! They’re quite brave aren’t they?” The other announcer said, “And those hats! Who knew an old worker’s hat could look so dapper!” 

Eventually the cheers died out, the crowd erupting once again and louder when the tributes from 12 came out, their bodies on fire, yet not burning. As the chariot reached the end you came face to face with other victors who were already displayed below the president.  One haunting almost threatening stare stuck with you. It was the tribute from 2. The one with golden armor. He clapped his hands as you trotted by, his green eyes not leaving your person once. During the president’s speech you looked over and of course he was still boring eyes into your clothes. 

As the tributes were dismissed you could hear Buckley from behind you on the chariot. “There’s the (Y/n) I remember.” He said, his accent thick on your name. 

“They’re gonna kill me aren’t they?” You asked the boy. 

“Oh yeah. Dolly’s gonna freak.” He chuckled. 

And of course he was right. When the two of you got backstage, a furious Dolly was fuming. Ramsey helped you off the horse and patted your back. “You are one crazy son of a bitch.” He laughed. 

“(Y/n)! What the hell were you thinking!” She said, her hand on your shoulder. 

“You told me to-” 

“I told you to get their attention! Not ride the damn horse!” She huffed. 

“I think she got their attention alright.” Pradain said, sipping his glass of wine. 

“You’re gonna get us in trouble!” Dolly feared. 

“Please, she’ll be fine. If anything they’ll take it out on her in the arena.” Ramsey soothed the curly haired mentor. 

Buckley only smiled at the interaction. 

“Well if it isn't a little Miss Badass.” A deep voice interrupted your exchange with the mentors. Turning around you spotted the blonde haired roman soldier from 2. “You’re smart, you know that? What you did out there.” He continued. His presence was threatening, you felt as if he was going to kill you then and there. “That was a good move on your part 10, stealing all my sponsors.” He shook his head disapprovingly. He wore a menacing smile. It was far from friendly. “Can’t wait to see what else you have up your sleeve. If you even have anything up there.” He finished before walking back to his team. 

“The hell is his problem?” Buckley asked, standing in front of you as to shield you from the career’s stare. 

“Don’t know and don’t want to find out.” You replied. “How is it that I already made an enemy?” You asked. 

“That’s Cato from 2.” A district 7 girl told you as she walked by, taking her headpiece off and placing it on a nearby table. “I heard he’s a real jerk. Threatened one of the Avoxes for  bumping into him before the parade started.” She finished. 

Slowly your pupil went to the corner of your eyes, seeing if you could get another glance at the unit of a tribute. Unfortunately for you, his gaze was permanently fixed on you. A smile- that of a psychopath stuck on his lips. 

There was no way you were going to survive the games with him around.

------

Tags: @randomgurl2326

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 2

Summary: In which Cato falls for a tribute from 10.

A/n: This is on ao3 too btw. Also, sorry for the slow start I kind of want to semi-flesh out the story, but Cato comes in the next chapter.

Pt.1

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Chapter 2 : The Train Ride

Your legs shaked up and down as you waited inside the Mayor’s building. You sat in the lounge room where all the tributes were sent to say their final words to their families. ‘This is it.’ You thought to yourself as your head spun. The room felt as if it was closing in on you as the paranoia set in. Grumbling came from your stomach and you couldn’t tell if you wanted to throw up and shit your fear away. You told yourself to keep breathing, but you were finding it harder and harder to do so. 

“Five minutes.” The peacekeeper said to your brother and father as Amaranto flung the door open. He wheeled your father in who still had that thousand yard stare. 

Scared didn’t cut how you were feeling. Emotions are unpredictable, and you were prone to outburst when you didn’t know how to handle them. Letting out a loud sob you began to bang on Amaranto’s chest, your fists landing on it surely making bruises. “YOU LIED!” Your angry weeping began, “YOU SAID I WOULD BE FINE!” Another yell. Of course it wasn’t his fault, but you needed someone to blame for the circumstances you were put in. 

“No no no, listen.” He tried calming you down, but you only flailed in his arms. “(Y/n) I SAID LISTEN!” He yelled again, but you still threw punches at the poor boy’s chest. 

“ENOUGH!” Came the bellowing voice of your Father, stopping both you and your brother. 

“(Y/n), You are not going to die out there.” Your father spoke. 

“W-what?” Your voice cracked. 

“You heard me girl. You’re not dying in that arena. You’ve got skills, just need to fine tune them and apply them to the games.” He spoke, his dark eyes fixing on yours. “Just think of them like animals.” 

Just think of them like animals.

Amaranto also looked shocked. It was his turn now to console you. 

Your body has gone limp. That rush of adrenaline was long gone and you sat on the floor confused as to what he meant by skills. You were the bottom of the barrel when it came to working in the slaughterhouse. The only reason you hadn’t been fired was because Clarabell was always there picking up your slack. 

“Papa’s right (N/n).” Amaranto spoke,  Grabbing one of your braids he sighed, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes, “You’re not dying out there. You’re gonna come home to me and Papa, and live a long life. Hell, you may even come home to a farm of your own! Just like you’ve always wanted.” He started to break down toward the end and it shattered your heart. The last time you saw Amaranto cry like this was when your mother died. 

“Pa. Amar.. I love you.” You said. Their words were sweet, filled with hope, but they couldn’t distract you from what you already knew. You would die in there, and leave the two of them poor and mourning over your dead body. 

The last three minutes were dedicated to you hugging them in silence, with the occasional “I love you” thrown in the air. Eventually your five minutes were up and you were so blinded by your tears that you couldn’t even tell that the peacekeepers were coming in. 

“WIN! (Y/n)! COME HOME! GET ROPE!” Amaranto yelled as he was forced out the room by the peacekeepers. His last words struck a memory with you. Rope. You hadn’t used one since the 6th grade. Before you could reminisce on the past, Pradian came into the room, his chicken-like top off and instead replaced with a lavender blouse. “Ready dear?” He asked with that Capitol accent. 

Wiping your tears away with your sleeves you nodded. It was difficult to walk, you were still weak from all the distress. At one point during the walk to the train you toppled over, the only thing preventing your body from meeting the floor was Buckley’s wall-like body. It was embarrassing how he had to escort you all the way to the train. 

Meanwhile Pradain kept criticizing the smell of 10, the heat of 10, and how “Those cows would look cuter in pink.” 

“He’s weird huh?” Buckley whispered into your ear trying to lighten up the mood. 

“I’m not sure that’s the right word.” You told him. 

In the distance was a sleek metallic train, it stretched for miles. As you approached the doors of the cart you would be going into, a man and woman stepped out. You recognized them as Ramsey Peckett and Dolly Gleewood, previous victors of the games. 

“I’m sorry you got picked.” Dolly said sympathetically as she wrapped her arms around you. 

“I’m Ramsey. I’ll be your mentor.” The man said as he reached to shake Buckley’s hand who was just a few inches shorter than him. 

“Alright Alright, save the chit chat for later- we’ve got to stay on schedule.” Pradain shoved his watch in the face of the two mentors causing them to roll their eyes. They lead the two of you into the train. 

It looked almost surgical. Silvery metallic colors decorated the cart, white couches were perfectly placed across from each other, the table was a dark wood- one you didn’t recognize. The only color in the room were lavender and teal flowers set in the center of the table, surrounded by lidded silver plates. 

“Go on, eat up- I know I am.” Pradain smiled, the blue on his lips making his teeth seem whiter than they were. He sat down on the table and removed the lid from one of the plates exposing the precious delicacy. It was a honey colored ham, surrounded with herbs and the prettiest tomatoes you’ve ever seen. 

Buckley didn’t hesitate, he sat himself down next to Ramsey and practically devoured a whole cantaloupe. 

“Aren’t you going to eat dear?” Dolly asked, confused as to why a starved girl like yourself wasn’t touching the lavish confectionaries in front of you. 

“I will, just don’t think I can hold it down yet.” You told her, opting to take sips from a glass filled with orange liquid. It tasted delightfully sweet yet had a nice tang to it. “What is this?” You asked her as your sips became more fervent. 

“That’s peach and mango juice.” Dolly said, cutting into her own slice of ham. 

“Calm down boy, food ain’t going nowhere.” Ramsey scolded Buckley, who was still scarfing different foods down his mouth.  He reminded you of the pigs when they would come out to eat. The way they wouldn’t leave room for air. 

“You’re gonna get yourself sick, We don’t want that now do we?” 

Buckley hesitantly stopped. He started to actually chew his food and you watched with awe as he shut his eyes enjoying the flavors of the Capitol food.

“‘S good.” The boy said, the freckles on his cheek stretching as he fit the food in them. 

“Right so then, how about we get to know each other first let's say… 15 minutes, and then we’ll move onto the actual mentoring.” Dolly spoke as she looked over to Ramsey for approval. 

“Are you both our mentors?” Came your voice, which was quiet compared to the chewing of your fellow tribute. 

“No. I’m assigned to Buck here, and you’re all Dolly’s.” Ramsey corrected. “We could join together and mentor the both of you if that's what you want, but remember only one of you is going to come back.” He said with a stress filled sigh. 

Buckley put his utensils down at that comment. Suddenly the food didn’t seem as appetizing. 

There was silence in the room. Both you and Buckley couldn’t look at each other for a while. Eventually you picked up your own fork and began to slowly fill your stomach with food. You were hesitant to try any of the meat since you knew it came from 10, and it just felt wrong for you to eat it, so you opted for just fruits and grains. 

“I’m alright with a joint mentorship if (Y/n) is.” Buckley said finally, causing both the mentors to look at him. 

You wondered why he said that. He most likely didn’t see you as a challenge. Buckley Wheaton was 6’3, muscular, and had the most honey brown hair you’ve ever seen. His whole body was littered with freckles, and his eyes matched that of his hair. You wondered what they fed that boy back in 10 to make him as much of a unit as he was now. Rice, you assumed, since that was mostly what was available. 

The mentors turned their heads to look at you now. You were in the middle of eating a berry that was colored like an angry red. “Sure.” 

“Not much of a talker.” Ramsey said, eyeing you.”Good luck getting words from that one Dolly.” He laughed. 

Dolly only smiled at you sweetly. 

“Nah, (Y/n) is such a talker.” Buckley came to your defense. “Shoot- 8th grade? She wouldn’t shut up about how she was going to write to the Capitol and ask for our horses back. She’s smart too! Top 5 in our class back when we graduated.” He told the mentors. 

Sure you weren’t on bad terms with Buckley, but you also weren’t buddy buddy with him. Your curiosity only grew as to why he was being so damn nice to you. 

“Buckley’s got strength. He’s agile too. Saw him pick up a cow once after chasing it down town for a while.” You spoke. “Rumor has it he’s got good aim too. You know, I saw him  once, when I was with my Papa, he and some of his buddies were messing around with some slingshots, tryna aim at some bean cans” You chewed some food before continuing. “And he knocked down every single can to the ground.”  

Buckley looked at you with a toothy smile. 

“Aww how cute.” Pradain cooed from where he sat.  

“So what's it like being a victor?” You turned your head to look at Dolly, whose curly hair was being tied into a bun. 

“It’s about as comfortable as it gets.” She says, “It’s great until the reality of it all sets in.” She speaks, her hazel eyes looking longingly at the table. 

“Well that’s grim.” Pradain side eyed her. “Ramsey, give me a happy answer.” He rested his chin on his hand as he turned his attention to the male victor. 

“It's got its perks. I mean for one you get a whole house to yourself… you don’t have to worry about starving anymore.” He listed. 

“How come we don’t see you around in the district?” Buckley asked, wiping a drop of food from his shirt. 

“No need to be out.” Dolly says, “The attention it attracts is a little too off putting.” 

“Yeah, the only time we ever really come out is during the night.” Ramsey says, “Of course that’s just personal preference, but like Dolly said, we have everything we need back at home.”

“Then there’s the visits to the Capitol.” Dolly says, sounding a little irritated. 

“Pft, you speak about it like it isn’t the most grand place to be. The Capitol is luxurious, filled with the most up to date technology and the highest fashion in Panem.” Pradain flaunts his nails around. 

“Enough Victor talk. Let’s get into mentoring.” Dolly gets up and excuses herself to the white couch where she waits for the rest of you. 

…

A few hours  pass by. Most of it is filled with questions on how to win the games, how to survive, how to not get caught by the careers. The mentoring is then interrupted by Pradain’s squeal of excitement. 

“We’re here!” He gets up to look over at the window. “Come! Come!” His hands go to both yours and Buck’s shoulder as he pushes you two alongside the window. You see a wall of brick before your eyes get punctured by the white light reflecting off the Capitol’s walls. 

Millions of faces painted almost like clowns fill your range of view. Buckley can’t help but burst out into laughter. You on the other hand look quite disturbed. The people on the other side, however, seemed delighted to see you. Their mouths formed into triangles as they hollered to greet you.

“Welcome to the Capitol!” Pradain says gleefully.

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Tags: @randomgurl2326

[leviathansshadycorner]

Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 1

Summary: In which Cato falls for a tribute from 10.

____________________________________

Chapter 1 : The Reaping 

“And no matter what happens, just know that you’ll be alright. You’re going nowhere.” Amaranto, your older brother tries to sooth you. His man hands on your shoulder, making you look him in the eyes as he attempts to stop your sobbing. Teary eyed you just nodded your head. That was easy for him to say. He had reached the cut-off age only three months ago. 

“I swear it’ll be alright.” He pulls you into a hug, his tan arms squeezing you to the point where you let out a small laugh. 

“Alright…” You reply, wiping away your tears. 

“Come on, maybe work will distract you.” He says, picking up his tin foil container which held the rice and eggs you had packed him and yourself. 

It’s a little past 6 in the morning. The sun barely pushed the dark blue sky away to take its place. The reaping wouldn’t  take place for about another 7 hours or so. Giving people enough time to cry over their loved ones, or finish their final trades before more peacekeepers flooded the area. The two of you decide to go into work today, even though they give off reaping days to the younger workers. You nervously headed out, eyes fixated on the pale yellow of your house, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time you saw it. 

District 10, your home, never seemed more somber than on reaping day. The only other time you saw people’s moods this down was when the Capitol decided to take the horses away from the district as a punishment to those who tried to escape on them. Noises of chickens, cows, and pigs echoed throughout the empty space as you and Amaranto walked through the desolate farming sections. You had assumed the farmers were either at the markets trying to buy feed for their livestock, or out in the bar trying to get over the fact that their best farm hands could get taken from them. 

The smell of fresh manure filled your nostrils as you neared some of the dairy cows. You hesitantly stopped, trying to keep in line with your routine, your hand reached up and rubbed the snout of a large spotted cow. Its markings were peculiar, since they all looked like rounded shapes rather than blotches of ink. “What I’d do to trade places with you.” You told the cow. Dairy cows were prized in this district, they were the only cows that weren’t sent off to be packaged into meat. They were the ones who got to live a long peaceful life, while their counterparts were met with a bloody fate. 

“Come on (Y/n), the faster we get there, the faster we can eat lunch before the reaping.” Your brother said, already miles ahead of you. 

District 10 was divided in its work. There were jobs in the production of  dairy and eggs, the slaughterhouses, butchery , farming, breeding, and then there were the  people who actually raised the livestock. Before making leather was moved to district 8, it belonged to 10. The breeders and farmers were people with a little bit more money than the rest. The breeders being where the smartest of 10 would use their knowledge of science and splicing to breed superior meats to send off to the capitol. Most kids in 10 spend their first few years working as farm hands and helping around in the creameries. The older ones take jobs in the killing and cutting  of the meat. It was a shame that so much work went into something that its citizens couldn’t even have. The only good thing about 10 was that they got the capitol’s scraps. Small eggs the size of a cotton ball, cuts they deemed too disgusting to eat, cheese on the brink of its expiration, the list went on and on. 

Amaranto and you worked at the slaughterhouse. Ever since your dad broke his leg, you both had to quit your jobs at Farmer Alfie’s and trade in your coveralls for white rubbery aprons. The slaughterhouse always smelled metallic. The smell of iron was one that would stay with you for as long as you live. The ceilings held fans, but they only helped so much to drive the smell away. Metal decorated walls and tables greeted you as you walked in. Your job was to drain the poor animal of its life. Walking past the pen of the to-be-killed animals felt hypocritical of you. You related a bit too much to the poor bovine creatures. Afterall, just like them, you were born to die. 

“Dad’s in the building next to ours cutting up some lambs.” Amaranto said as he placed his lunch box in his locker. “And you know where to find me.” He finished, closing up the locker and turning to look at you. “If you feel like you can’t handle work today just go look for him or me ok?” He spoke, his kind voice reassuring you. Amaranto worked out with the men killing them. They were under the close eyes of peacekeepers, since their job was the only one requiring guns. 

“Alright…” Was all you could muster up.

“Damn (Y/n), you’re quiet today.” Clarabell, the girl who was sweet on your brother, spoke from behind you. She was your coworker, and quite literally your only friend. “My my, and why is it that you are wearing that gorgeous top to work?” She asked with a fake scolding voice. 

“She’s nervous about the reaping.” Amaranto told her as they both exchanged a flash of worry about you. 

“I thought I’d get dressed before coming in today, since I don’t think I’d get out in time to change.” You had gotten up early in the morning to go out of your way to put on your reaping clothes. It’s not like you anticipated the event, rather you felt that getting ready earlier would be better than struggling to change an hour before the reaping. 

“Oh come on (Y/n)-ie, you know nothing’s going to happen right? The chances of you getting picked are like the chances of your brother deciding I’m finally lady-like enough to marry.” The girl said, trying to throw some humor at you. 

“C-can we just work?” Came your reply, dry and hasty. You didn’t want to talk about the reaping anymore. You just wanted to distract yourself from your possible death sentence. 

Clarabell gave you a sympathetic hug, draping her dark red hair on your face as she nuzzled into your shoulder. “Sweet girl, you’ll be fine.” She said, then going to grab her apron. You followed, grabbing your own and shakily putting it on over your baby blue gingham dress shirt. 

“No- no, here.” Clarabell said as she  took off the shirt she was wearing. “You are not getting your pretty little self all bloodied before the reaping.” She said, tossing the shirt at you. 

“I can’t.” 

“Oh I think you will.” And like that her shirt was now on top of yours. It was stupid of you to wear your best shirt to work, now making people sacrifice theirs for you. Saying goodbye to your brother as he turned and left for work, you finally tied your apron on, and the two of you joined the others for work. 

Time passed and the sun arose. Its heat raining down on 10. The only perk about working here was that they were always blasting cold air into the building. The clock seemed like it was against you, time moving both quickly and at a skin crawling pace. Clarabell tried to distract you, but the deep feeling in your stomach only sunk further. Eventually you couldn’t handle it anymore, and went to go speak with your father. 

You hung up your apron. You hadn’t noticed how bloody your clothes had gotten until you took it off. “Damn.” You cursed looking over at the redhead. “I’m sorry Clara- I’ll wash it and bring it back to you I swear.” 

The older girl just laughed, “It’s alright, now go on- enjoy yourself, go frolic with the sheep, or kiss some boys-” She teased as she waved to you. 

You walked alongside the dirt path that connected the slaughterhouse and the butcher’s corners. Many of the men recognized you as your fathers daughter, greeting you as you sped through the halls and into the area where your father was sitting. Your heart stopped when you saw him, on his wheelchair working on slicing some skin off of a cut of meat. This was probably the last time you’d see him like this. 

You didn’t know why, but a feeling of impending doom told you that you’d be chosen as one of the kids to die in the arena. 

“Hey Papa.” You greeted. His dark head of hair shifted up to look at you. He smiled for a brief second, his serious expression returning. “What  are you doing here (N/n). Didn’t they give you the day off?” He asked, his voice deep and old. 

“They did, but Amar thought working today would distract me.” Your eyes shifted from the meat he was cutting to his face. 

“I see.” He spoke. 

“Just wanted to check up on you.” You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, failing to realize that you hadn’t washed the blood on your hands thoroughly enough and staining the light material. 

“Thank you dear.” You knew why your Father wasn’t saying much. In fact he was just like you, not speaking much because he was scared. He was scared to lose you like how he had lost your mother. 

“I love you Papa.” You said, reaching out to hug him. 

“Look, you’re going to be fine. If you get picked or not, you’re from 10. Remember that. The district of hard-ass cowboys alright? Now you’re a badass (Y/n), so don’t let fear get to ya.” He said, turning around to hug you tight. 

Tears fell down your cheeks at his words. Nodding your head you agreed with his words. You couldn’t let fear get to you. Everyone had been saying that your chances of getting picked were slim, so they must be right. 

… 

The cries of children and mothers alike took the place of the bleating animals. Peacekeepers were now circling the district, lining up people with their guns as they ushered them to the square. The commotion made for some of the animals to go loose, but no one cared about them anymore. All that mattered to the peacekeepers was getting everyone to go witness the death of two children from home. 

You were already in line waiting to get your finger pricked. You watched as some of the older kids looked more relaxed. Your heart sank when you met the eyes of a teary eyed 12 year old. She looked at you with a scrunched up red and puffy face. All you could offer her was a somber smile. 

“God I know how them cows must be feeling.” A blonde girl spoke to her friend behind you. Flashes of the meat cows came into your brian. You had watched Amar do his job a while back, shocked at how he was able to go through with it. 

All you remember is the cow’s poor innocent eyes as it awaited its fate. The gun was raised and aimed smack dab in the middle of its head. 

Boom 

You jumped at the feeling of a needle puncturing your skin. You went to lick it, once again failing to notice the blood on your hands. Of course. You had forgotten to wash this off after helping your dad out with a few of his work. Sighing with no other choice, you wiped your hands on the sides of your shirt. Making your way to stand with your age group, you looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone familiar. 

Met with Clarabell ’s green eyes you felt more relaxed, soon catching a view of Amaranto’s face. He looked stern, serious, almost like your father. In fact he was the exact clone of your Father when he was younger. Speaking of which you couldn’t find. Your Father must have been further back. A part of you was glad you couldn’t see him. You knew you’d burst out in tears if you did. 

“Welcome, Welcome!” A sultry voice came from the stage. Everyone turned their attention to the announcer. It was a tall asian man, wearing a tan outfit consisting of pants longer than his legs, and a dress shirt littered with feathers that made it seem as if his whole upper body was a chicken. Along with the outfit he wore a hen on top of his slicked dark indigo hair. Pradain Alcomore, District 10’s announcer. Nobody could stop staring. Had he dressed like this in honor or in ridicule of the district?

“Boy is it hot.” The announcer then said, wiping the sweat of his brow with a handkerchief. He placed it back in his pants pocket, returning to holding the microphone. 

“Welcome All to the annual reaping.” He said scanning the crowd for a reaction. “As you all know, a male and female tribute are to be selected to participate in the 74th hunger games.” He said with a toothy grin as he made jazz hands to the crowd. “Right then, roll the tape!” He commanded.  

As he ordered the tape you had all memorized begins to play, its music the only thing making sound aside from the sniffles of children. 

“Wonderful, that never gets old.” He giggles to the crowd as he gets their attention back. 

“Alright then, let's begin shall we.” He dipped his hands into the fish bowl, swirling it around a couple more times than was necessary. 

Being one of the poorer districts meant your name was in there more than you would’ve liked it to be. Amar scolded you when he found out what you did, but he figured since he managed to survive the reaping you would too. You only hoped he was right. 

You watched as people held hands in nervousness, awaiting to hear the first name drawn. There was a deadly silence. 

Pradain opened the slip, a smile on his face as he announced to the world the female tribute from district 10. 

“(Y/n) Cuernos.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream but not a drop of voice came out. The ringing in your ears began as people around you began to back away, allowing a path to be made in front of you. The path that would lead you to death. 

Clarabell’s soft sobs were what lured you back into reality.  She mouthed the words sorry as you passed by, turning around to see if your brother was crying too. When you did find him he was on his knees, a friend of his trying to console him. You could only imagine what your father was thinking. As you looked around you spotted him, his face as serious as ever. You knew if he made eye contact with you he’d burst out yelling, so you continued to walk the path up to the stage. 

“Come Come dear, time is ticking.” Pradair says as you step up. The cameras follow you, focused on your back as you walk. “My what a fashion choice.” He speaks as he notices the blotches of red staining your shirt. 

You can’t cry. You can’t. And as you feel your face get warm, look up at the gigantic screen displaying your fear filled eyes. Your hair is braided into two braids, it makes your face look gigantic. The baby blue gingham shirt stained with cows blood looks exhausted, making you look like filth in the eyes of the people watching, or so you assume. The overalls you thought to wear covered the cowboy boots on your feet. You never noticed how long the pant legs were. You hadn’t noticed how much you looked like your mother. 

“Onto the boy!” Pradain then says as he shuffles to the other end of the stage to pull out the male tribute’s name. 

“Buckley Wheaton!” He calls out and you watch a mother scream for her boy. He’s around your age, though muscular and older looking. No doubt he’d be the winner out of the two of you. He went to school with you, only speaking to you when asking for answers to questions. Other than that the two of you were total strangers. The brunette looked unfazed, but deep inside you knew he was as scared as you. 

“Let’s give them a hand!” Pradair says, and the people only place their hands to their hearts. 

[leviathansshadycorner]

Creepypasta headcannons that are stuck in my brain

Warnings: mentions of blood, knives - uhhhh this is the creepypasta fandom tho so like what did u expect

Slenderman is like Bruce Wayne in the way that he collects orphans (ok technically not orphans but you get what I mean.)

His mansion is open to all the creeps but some of them prefer to have places of their own To elaborate on that I feel like masky and hoodie would have like their own little cabin somewhere in the woods

The mansion has like a computer room place where all the video game based/ tech based creeps kinda reside like think of it like wreck it ralph if that makes sense

There’s a weapons room, Probs a meat freezer, Medical room

Since it’s a mansion there’s a shit ton of rooms and bathrooms but I feel like most of the creeps are lazy and just use the most convenient ones that are closest to them- which leads to a rancid ass lookin bathroom that no one wants to clean. This pattern continues until all of them are dirty- which leads to them peeing in the woods. Until Slendy and Masky scold them and make them clean the bathrooms.

Helen has his little art studio in the house and is constantly staining the place with paint that’s been left over in his hands

He’s probably the most average joe-looking dude out of all of them and he once tried to submerge himself with blood to look more scary but ultimately ended up tripping on the blood and embarrassing himself. To make things worse- the blood crusted all over him and it was a pain to wash off

Painted a family portrait that hangs at the entrance of the place

Jeff is a scene queen and has a shitload of hairspray and hairdye

he blasts his music around the house which annoys everyone

Ben hogs the living room couch and the game console - nobody knows why. Like homeboy has his own room with his own set up and stuff He says it’s his “work room” and that the living room is his gaming room

Him and Toby are the ones who eat all of the junk food within a two days

Jeff constantly sticks knives into the walls and doors when he’s in a mood

Hoodie is the one who has to do the handy work around the house and fix the windows, walls, ect

Toby is so clumsy like - he’ll fall down the stairs and be like “my bad”

I feel like he’d be into wood carving for some reason- him and hoodie will get like pieces of wood and carve cute little things out of them like a dinosaur or swan

EJ is like the cool older brother who’s in a band

He only ever comes out of his room/basement when he’s getting food or on his way out for a mission

He’s like the medic of the house and is constantly patching people up

whenever he comes up everyone’s like “damn who got stabbed this time?” Or “HIS HIGHNESS HAS BLESSED US WITH HIS PRESENCE”

They all have meetings on Monday and Friday morning to kind of touch base with each-other and assign chores/tasks

Liu dresses like it’s Christian girl autumn

Him and Jeff are constantly getting into arguments over the smallest things and

Toby has to break it up all the time Epitome of hipster probably listens to the smiths

-pffftt since he’s Jeff’s brother he probably listens to Never shout never

Clockwork is friggin ripped man she’s probably one of the only ones to actually exercise and get stay in shape

Takes jogs out in the woods

She’s like a himbo - if that makes sense lol Stuck in the 2014 tumblr era (fashion wise)

Will sit on Ben if he doesn’t move from her spot on the couch , she’s stubborn and straightforward but also kind and aggressive (in a good way)

Jane is done with everyone’s shit lol she’s like an older sister who gets blamed for all of her younger siblings chaos

”Jane why is Hoodie tied up in a tree?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Get him down.”

She hates Jeff but he’s also the one she hangs out with the most (when she’s not pissed at him) I feel like after she drops the grudge they probably watch the Jersey shore together- and the Kardashians

Kage-Kao likes to send everyone memes and riddles to crack Also hacks the tv to put on something he wants to watch

Will also hack peoples devices when they’ve pissed him off

Plays roblox and trolls people on it

Sends selfies of him himself to the creeps at the most random times

LJ is so tall and is always bumping into the doorframe He has to slouch when he goes up the stairs in some areas

Spends time with Sally - he’s like her kindergarten teacher.He absolutely hates kids - but sally’s an exception

When he’s not out at work or hanging out with peoples he’s taking naps like a grandpa

Peepaw LJ

“That tv screen is too bright. Turn it down.”

“Is that even possible?”

Sally was basically robbed of her childhood so everyone makes it their goal to make sure she has a good one.

They let her play grand theft auto once and she couldn’t stop walking like the characters for the longest time

When she’s not playing video games with Ben or making messes with Toby- she likes to spend time with Slendy making some crafts

Her room is the prettiest one in the whole mansion

Even though he’s like a demon creature thingy- slendy likes to play sodoku and like do crossword puzzles, probs just puzzles in general

Checks himself out in the mirror and admires his suits

Constantly buying (or rather stealing) new suits

Spends lots of time outside in the woods just kinda creeping and stalking , looking for potential victims for the creeps

When someone new comes to the mansion they either last 1 day- or don’t even stay at allThe chaos trio- Ben, Jeff, and Toby make it their goal to see how long they can annoy the newcomers before they break

The creeps totally have movie nights on their days off

[leviathansshadycorner]

messy house mates - Creepypasta x reader Headcannons

Fannon creepypasta portrayals ?

Also I’m sleep deprived af so if this doesn’t make sense I’m sorry lol

Living with a bunch of serial killers isn’t how you would think it is. At least in this case. When you first moved in you expected the house to be littered with dismembered body parts, pools of blood, weapons everywhere, and strange baggies with mysterious substances.

However you were wrong. It was much worse than you expected. Instead of finding dismembered limbs everywhere you found piles and piles of dirty clothes on the floor, empty energy drink cans, junk food wrappers, and foliage.

You honestly would rather deal with the limbs

It didn’t dawn on you until you were three weeks into living with them - but when it did, oh boy did you have a mental breakdown

Not only were you living with serial killers and criminals, most of them were m e n

Men that had somehow never matured as it seemed

The only ones who were actually clean and tidy were of course Slendy, Masky, EJ, Liu, Jane, and Hoodie (to an extent)

The ones who were the root of the problem were Jeff, Ben, Toby, Helen, LJ, and Sally

Smiledog gets a free pass since he’s just a little puppy (to you at least)

Although EJ was one of the few to actually bring in limbs and organs- he was surprisingly well organized. He always kept his things in Tupperware containers in his separate mini fridge, and always made sure to wash his plates afterwards.

Masky wasn’t really around the house much but when he was he always made sure to dust off his shoes before stepping foot in the house. Sure he left a few beer bottles here and there sometimes- but he would always throw them away eventually.

Slendy was the one who ran the whole operation- not to mention the fact that he is some sort of supernatural entity- but he’s always been neat. I mean- the guy wears a suit!

Liu usually spent time in his room or outside in the forest, so he didn’t really contribute to the mess that much. The one time that you did get to catch a glimpse of his room you noticed how neat it was. It was almost scary.

Now Jane was one of the few other girls in this house, and although she stopped trying to get everyone else to clean- she never stopped herself. In the mornings you’ll find her whacking a few of the residents in the house and scolding them about their chores. That’s not to say that she isn’t messy though. No no, Jane is known for leaving the bathroom cabinets a mess and never reorganizing them.

Hoodie- like masky- was also never around much. Your gripe with him was that he always tracked in leafs and rocks-sometimes even wild animals. You have a conspiracy that he might be some sort of Disney princess

Now onto the problematic housemates -

Ben was quite literally a twelve year old boy in the sense of cleanliness. You needed a spatula to get that grease stain off the couch- and when you did he would only lay back down. The coffee table was littered with his junk food wrappers and cans. There were sticky stains left from spilled drinks, and he hogged all the blankets when it got cold. Not to mention the smell- you knew about his water phobia- but you didn’t think it’d be this bad

“Ben, for the love of all that’s good- you need to fucking bathe in a shitload of oxiclean.”

“Wait - lemme just finish this level really quick-“

“Ben!”

“For fucks sake (Y/n)! I’m in the zone!”

One way or another you were gonna give that cat a bath.

Jeff was one of the worst ones

And you knew he did it on purpose to get on your nerves

For one- homeboy would bring in victims and leave them laying around. Once, you even tripped over one on your way down the stairs

He’s also notorious for leaving his weapons in the most unconventional places - for instance, underneath the couch, on your seat at the table, under your pillow, in the shower

“JEFF WHAT THE FUCK!” Was the common phrase around the house

Homeboy also has lots of hair and he sheds like a dog- so you best believe that every shower drain is clogged

He’s also the one who leaves out his dirty clothes lying around the house

“Jeff. What is this doing in my room?”

“Oh sweet you found my favorite shirt!”

“Dude this thing is drenched in blood.”

“So?”

Sweet Toby just made messes on accident. It’s usually because he tries to bake with Sally and the two of them tend to make a mess and never clean it up. Instead they both go up to Sally’s room and get distracted by their tea time- leaving the mess to you

LJ- like Sally and Toby, didn’t make messes on purpose. Whenever he walks around he drops pieces of candy and confetti without even knowing it.

Don’t call him it to his face- but some people call him the walking piñata

His costume also tends to loose a lot of its feathers from time to time, so you’ll find a bunch of those and save them for him in a ziplock baggie

Last of all there’s Helen. Boy- you expected better from him. It came as a surprise when you found out that it was him and not Jeff who was tracking in all of the blood. You caught him redhanded one fateful night.

“Helen! What are you doing you’re dragging in a lot of blood! You aren’t bringing a victim in here are you?”

“(Y/n) chill, it’s just paint.”

“Helen.”

“Ok- yes it’s blood but- my paint bucket has a hole and I don’t feel like buying new ones.”

“You’re cleaning this up.”

“You can’t silence my art (y/n)”

[leviathansshadycorner]

Should I write a Kurt kunkle x twitch streamer! Reader!????

I probs will lolol