Chapter Text
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Marinette stepped down the wooden steps, slowly as they creaked. Her mother and father were there, gathering their belongings.
“Come on, grab your things, we need to leave within the hour,” her father spoke. Sabine blew out the candles, leaving only the natural light through the windows as their source of light. Tom flipped the sign outside to closed, as he put on his worn jacket. Marinette adjusted her braid, jumping when Sabine walked behind her and adjusted the ribbons. Sabine tied a red ribbon in her hair with tears threatening to spill. Sabine, silently held her daughter’s face in her hands, staring into her eyes, as she kissed her nose and walked away to the door. Marinette followed her mother and father to the door, shutting it quietly behind her.
As they walked in the streets, no child raced ahead of their parents. No child was jumping with joy. They gripped their parent’s hands tightly, as they all stepped into the streets, making their way step by step to the center of the city. Everyone was silent in the entire town, everyone scared. The only sound heard was the tip taps of the shoes in the streets. Everyone was heading in one single direction.
Many wore designer clothing, perfect colors, perfect hair, perfect shapes. They were expected to be above perfection, nothing else was allowed. Most people in their town were clothing makers.
This was, of course, was expected of District 8. District 8, the textiles and fashion district. Marinette’s family was one of the few who did a different profession, baking. The Capitol expected nearly every family to deliver the finest quality of luxury clothing for them to wear. No one dared rebel against the Capitol’s orders, not after the previous rebellion, where the Capitol wiped out the 13th District, who created nuclear weapons. Each district was assigned a different task, each one was a slave to the Capitol’s wishes. Marinette shudders at the thought. So many were left dead from that fight, no children were spared.
Marinette gripped her father’s hand. This year was the 100th annual hunger games. Normally, each year they held the hunger games, where ages 12-18 would compete in the hunger games in bloodshed. Two tributes, one male and female, of each District, would have their name reaped from a bowl and forced to compete in a death battle for the Capitol’s entertainment. Another reminder that the Capitol controlled every aspect of their lives. The Hunger Games only ended when one tribute was chosen. Some people put their names’ in multiple times in exchange for food. Other Districts like District One or Two, the wealthiest Districts, would volunteer to be part of the Hunger Games, believing that joining in the blood battle would be a high honor. Marinette shook her head at the thought, before facing forwards once more.
Ahead of her, she saw Adrien. He was walking with his father, with bags under his eyes. Marinette couldn’t blame him, he lost many important family in the Hunger Games. Marinette has lost many people close to her in the Hunger Games as well. She walked over to him and took his hand, nodding assuringly. Adrien refused to make eye contact, as his father pulled him closer to him.
Marinette remembered when they first met. Marinette was doodling the people passing by the bakery. She saw a beautiful boy with bright green eyes. She immediately began drawing him, paying close attention to his eyes. She could remember those eyes so clearly, and furiously drew on the paper, no longer bothering to look up at her reference. She was so caught up in her sketching she didn’t even notice when said boy walked inside the bakery. She finally noticed when he appeared over her shoulder, absolutely flattered by her work. His green eyes lit up as he started posing, asking her to draw more. He spent the entire afternoon at the bakery that day.
When they finally turned seven, her parents let them play in her backyard without supervision, as long as they remained there. They would lie on their backs, with the grass tickling their toes. They could smell the fresh air outside, the sounds of birds chirping and the grass blowing from the wind. The sun hit their faces so brightly, as they stared at the skies. They would spend hours, cloud watching. Marinette adored the boy with green eyes and vowed to remain by his side.
Marinette and Adrien were cloud watching once more when they were ten, when Marinette noticed a small, tiny cloud out of the corner of her eye. She smiled at the little heart-shaped cloud and tugged on Adrien’s jacket to show him. When she looked at him though, his eyes were elsewhere. She followed his line of sight, to see a beautiful girl standing near the fence of the backyard. She was drying clothing outside, the breeze carrying her midnight hair behind her. Each of her steps were elegant and graceful. Each step was with purpose. Never once did she trip or fall. With perfect posture, she carried on her day. When she looked over and noticed Adrien staring at her, she smiled softly and shook her head while chuckling.
Adrien quickly became fascinated with the girl with green eyes that could rival his own. He tried to get to know her, and each day, he would come over to Marinette’s house, talking all about the girl with green eyes. Marinette would just smile, and listen, chiming in here and there.
She never held it against him and moved on after a long time. She tried her best to support him as his sister and began distancing herself from him. But she always made sure to be there for him when he needed her.
As they neared the center of the city, Marinette braced herself. Up ahead, she could already see the Peace Keepers up ahead. The Capitol Peace Keepers were threatening District Citizens, ordering them to file in place, as the escort and advisor for District 8 stood at the podium. They fired off warning shots at their feet as the children screamed. Ivy who was selected as the coach for District 8, adjusted her hair as she stared at District 8’s citizens with disgust. She ruffled her hair and touched up her makeup, with bright colors in her outfit. It highly contrasted the outfits of District 8, who were all cloaked in dark colors, in hopes of blending in with the crowd.
Marinette followed her parents in line, blending in with the other terrified children, as the reaping began.
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“Adrien, wake up.” A voice came that followed with a knock from behind his door. “We are leaving in an hour, get ready and go down to eat breakfast.”
“M-Coming Father,” Adrien muttered while struggling to get himself to wake up.
It's The Reaping Adrien thought to himself. He dreaded this day. Of course, his father refused to let him volunteer for the Hunger Games, not after what happened to his mother, but still, there was something that scared Adrien today. It was his first time being eligible for the Hunger Games. Just a short few months ago, he turned 12. Now he could very well be walking to his death. The chances of being picked were slim, but there was still a chance.
Adrien sighed and pushed the dark thoughts that came to his mind away and got out of his warm soft bed. Light shined through his large window as he walked across his large empty room. He slowly walked towards the closet and picked out his outfit for the day. He reached into his closet and grabbed out the suit Natalie had left for him. His father would never let him leave the house without looking up to standard. He carried them with him as he made his way into the shower, and let the warm water try to calm his thoughts.
Adrien stood in the shower for about ten minutes before actually washing himself off. He just stood there and thought about how much his day could change him. His tears blended in with the water, as he pleaded to whatever god that may be out there. Please don’t let him end as his mother did. He was still young when she died, but he could still remember fragments of that day. His mother was pregnant at a young age with his father, and they were planning a beautiful wedding. Everyone was supposed to be there, his friends, his neighbors, even the Dupain-Chengs. But then came the reaping. Almost no one thought Emilie would get picked. Almost every year the lower class was selected, the rich seemed untouchable. No one could fathom the idea of Emilie being chosen. And yet she was. And not a single person volunteered to take her place. And so Emilie fought, and died in the Arena, after having just given birth to Adrien in the arena. Gabriel was sobbing as he locked himself in his home, a home that was meant for a family. Adrien, although young, remembered rewatching the hunger games on his father’s computer, and standing horror. Watching that old video was one of Adrien’’s greatest regrets. He knew some of the people in that arena from business deals, and he saw how they quickly turned into murdering monsters. He turned off the warm water and was hit with a cold breeze, he quickly shivered and threw on his towel as quickly as he could. He made his way to his room, got changed, and headed downstairs.
Adrien quickly made his way down to the dining room and quietly sat himself down into his seat.
“Good morning, father,” Adrien spoke quietly, while shoving a piece of toast into his mouth and taking a sip of his tea.
“Good morning, Adrien. Slow down we don’t want you choking. Agrestes are not slobs.”
“Apologies, father...”
After the short conversation, they both settled in awkward silence, Adrien slowly eating his toast while Gabriel read a book that Emilie used to enjoy. After finishing his toast and tea he beckoned Natalie forth to bring his dirty dishes to the washing machine. Adrien cleared his throat, before looking at his father. Gabriel turned to him with tired eyes.
“Father...if you don't mind...before we leave may I take a few minutes to visit mother's statue in the garden?”
Gabriel paused for a long time, as he stared at the table. Natalie put a hand on his shoulder, and Gabriel looked up at Adrien.
“Alright, but make it quick. We need to make it to the center in time for your reaping.”
“Thank you, father!” Adrien said while running towards the gardens.
As he made his way towards the garden he was hit with the pleasant smell of roses and daisies. His mother's favorite.
He slowly made his way towards the statue and plopped himself down.
“Hello, mother. I miss you, like a lot… Please give me your strength to get through this. I hope you miss us too. I love you,” Adrien heard Natalie call his name. “I'll see you soon, mother,” Adrien spoke while standing up and brushing away any leftover dirt from his pants.
Adrien and his father made their way to the center, with Natalie and the Gorilla following close behind them.
They walked in silence with the other hundreds of families. Suddenly, Adrien felt something grip his hand. It was soft and warm, as he looked down to see Marinette. Adrien felt his father pull him closer to him. Marinette dropped his hand and gave him a small, forced smile. Adrien returned the smile before she walked off.
Gabriel turned to Adrien, softly speaking. “Adrien, no matter what happens today. I will always love you.”
Adrien was surprised, before hugging his father. “I love you too, father.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian sighed while looking up at the ceiling in his room. It was 6:30 in the morning and he had no idea how this day would go. Just a measly two years ago he would’ve been excited, almost grateful for this day to come. Yet now, after meeting his father, he dreaded this day. He let another sigh escape him while he pushed himself away from his bed.
Training with Talia was hard. Extremely hard. Damian would spend multiple days with non-stop training for these games. Talia told him that to compete in the games? It would be an honor. Many people in his District, District 1 of luxury goods, would pray to get chosen. He should be prepared. He is prepared. But he doesn't want to be prepared. Because after meeting his father, he realized how bitter it would be to die in those games, to turn into a monster in those games. He’s seen what the arena has done to Talia and his grandfather. He never wishes to become them. Two years ago, Damian would’ve volunteered for the hunger games. But now? He will do anything to avoid them. He is the last child in the Wayne family to be eligible for the games, with Tim turning 18 just a few months ago. Damian was determined to stay with his new family, but that doesn’t mean the fear doesn’t go away.
Bruce knocked on the door to his room. Damian called for him to enter. Sitting down, Bruce sighed. They sat in silence, neither sure what to say. Bruce starts.
“Damian, I want you to know, this has never been easy for me. It’s never easy for anyone. And I know that this will be your first year entering into the Hunger Games. It’s been hard, with several children. It hurt me, even more, when Jason was chosen one year, and when no one volunteered to take his place. But I promise you this, should you ever get chosen, I will make every deal, pay off any price, do anything it takes to make sure you don’t go in those arenas. I will do anything to make sure you come home safely.” Damian stared at Bruce, with nothing to say. “I promise,” Bruce spoke, holding out his pinky.
“Father, what are you doing?”
“Your grandmother used to make pinky promises with me when I was much younger. A pinky promise is never broken, Damian. I promise you, you will come home safely to us.” Damian nodded, and looped his finger with his fathers’.
Soon, Alfred called to them to begin the journey to the center of the city. Everyone began dressing in their finest jackets, as they made their way to the door.
Damian sighed, leaving the entrance of his house. His brain was telling him not to move. To stay there. But his feet moved on his own, following his family .
“Hey, it’s okay, baby bird. Don’t worry about it. You won't get picked.” Jason said ruffling his hair.
“He's right, Damian,” Tim chimed in.
“Hey, and even if you were picked, there’s a lot of children who want to fight in the Hunger Games, someone is bound to volunteer!” Dick included.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” he spoke while lowering his head to try to prevent the tears from shedding.
“Don't worry Damian. We’ll protect you,” Bruce said while kneeling down to his level. “Don't worry. We promised to, remember?” He said while showing him his pinkie. “And we don’t break promises.”
Damian nodded. Instead, he avoided eye contact. “I understand, father.”
“Now let's go!” Jason cheered.
They all started to walk ahead leaving Damian behind. Damian took a deep breath, as he quickly sped up his pace to catch up with them.
Soon enough, they were reaching the center. They could hear the warning shots ringing out from the center of the District. It was time to start The Reaping.