The 98th Hunger Games.

Chapter One - The Reaping.

T/CW WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER INCLUDE:
mentions/implications of blood, needles.
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"No, Tubbo, you just don't get it." Tommy exclaims, picking another bit of grass from the Earth.
"What's not to get? You kill, win, get rich. Or, you die." Tubbo shrugs. The bunny in his lap shuffles and hops off, leaving Tubbo with nothing to do with his hands.
"You're not at all worried? I mean, what if I got put in? What if I died?"
Tubbo doesn't want to think about that. "You wouldn't, Tommyinnit never dies," he says, flashing a smile at the blonde across from him. He gets a roll of his eyes in response.
Tommy sighs and puts his head in his hands. "The Reaping's today, Tubbo. We have four papers of our names in that pot. One of us is probably-"
"Tommy." Tubbo cuts him off, "We're not going to get put in. Don't stress about it." Although the reassurance does calm Tommy a bit, he still knows it isn't 100% true. One of them is bound to be put into the games.
Tubbo gets up, Tommy shading his eyes from the sun to look up at his friend. "Let's go, we're gonna have to get ready for The Reaping." Tommy swallows generously at the shaking in Tubbo's voice, and now knows that his friend is aware of their position of getting in.
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Tubbo looks in the mirror, trying to admire himself. It doesn't work. Tubbo is skinny, and small, and the clothes hang off of his body rather uncomfortably. He's got on a white button-down, some jeans and dusty black shoes. He wishes his green button down wasn't in the wash, for he'd feel a bit more confident in it. Tubbo supposes this will do.
As he ties his right shoe, the door opens and Tommy steps through, Phil by his side. Tommy's clothes don't hang off of him as much, and not because he's built, but more because of his height.
"Ready?" Phil asks steadily, trying to conceal the tremor in his voice.
Tubbo stands up, tucking his shirt and nodding softly. The boys begin to leave the house, Wilbur joining them soon after.
As they get to the section for pricking fingers, Tubbo looks over to Tommy, who's fidgeting.
"Still afraid of the ol' prickers?" Tubbo teases, but Tommy doesn't smile. Tubbo pats the other's shoulder, stepping in front of him. He holds his hand out, watching as the pricker is held against his middle finger. He doesn't flinch when the needle pierces his skin.
Tommy goes next, not flinching either, but clearly worried. You could tell by the furrow in his brows.
The two walk together to the crowded center area, looking upon the stage. Wilbur and Phil are soon behind the two, Wilbur keeping his hand on Tommy's shoulder. Badboyhalo steps onto stage, wearing a stunning blue suit.
  He taps the mic twice. "Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! Happy Hunger games," he exclaims, flashing a smile at the crowd. Tommy looks to Tubbo, mouthing the works with Halo, "and! May the odds ever be in your favor." Tubbo tries to hold back a smile.
  "Now, we shall pick our tributes." Halo walks over to the glass pot, full of names. Eight of Tommy and Tubbo's names combined. He digs his hand in the pot.
  Wilbur's hand on Tommy's shoulder gets more stern. Tommy submits under the slight pressure.
  Halo pulls out a paper, opening it carefully and reading the name. Tubbo's gut punches his stomach when-
  "Tubbo!" Halo smiles, looking into the crowd. "C'mon up, Tubbo!"
  Tommy's eyes are wide and afraid, Phil and Wilbur are desperately looking at Tubbo. Tubbo swallows and makes his way through the crowd. Fuck, Tommy thinks.
  "Tubbo," Tommy manages to get out, though it's quiet and broken, so Tubbo is ignorant to the broken voice.
  As he steps upon the stage, he feels goose bumps break out on his skin, looking upon those in District Seven. He spots Tommy in the crowd, who has silent tears rushing down his puffed and red cheeks.
  Halo brings Tubbo further on stage, patting his shoulder sweetly. He goes to pull another name.
  There's silence, and then, "Ranboo! Ranboo is our second tribute."
Only one more.
  Tubbo's eyes widen at the tall, lanky enderman who's walked on stage, standing next to him. He doesn't look even shaken up. He's calm, almost... joyful.
  "Now, Seven! It is time to choose our very last tribute." Halo exclaims, beaming to the crowd of frightened people.
  As his hand roams around, there's suddenly an outburst. "You don't have to pick another!" A voice is yelling, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
  "Tommy?" Tubbo's eyes are wide, watching the guards bring Tommy up to stage.
  "TommyInnit! Our last tribute. Thank you for volunteering, kind sir!" Halo's clapping, though the rest of the crowd isn't. Wilbur's lashing out, trying to yell and get his brothers off the stage. It obviously doesn't work, and instead gets him sent home until they can pay a visit to the tributes.
Halo steps back, "shake hands, you three!"
Tubbo turns to Tommy and Ranboo, looking up at the tall, smiley boy first. He takes his hand hesitantly, nodding before taking Tommy's. Tommy gives his hand a squeeze.
Before Tubbo has time to think, Halo exclaims into the mic, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor." Then Halo is urging them into the backstage room, where they're forced to follow. Tommy grabs Tubbo's hand, and doesn't plan on letting go.
- - - - - - - - - -
Tommy waits patiently in the waiting room, before Phil and Wilbur come busting through.
"Are you mad?" Wilbur says, glaring at Tommy. "What was that stunt?"
"I couldn't let Tubbo go alone," and Tommy's looking down, feeling like a boy again.
"Tubbo wouldn't be alone! Now you'll both die!"
"Enough, Wil." Phil's cupping Tommy's cheek, wiping the stray tear that's found a path down the crevasses of it's owner's profile. "You'll live. You and Tubbo. I know it."
Tommy looks hopelessly at Phil, but he feels more determined when he sees the genuine confidence in the other's eyes.
Wil's grasping Tommy into a hug, tucking his face into his soft blonde hair. "Please be okay."
Tommy hugs Wil back. "I'll win, Wilbur. We'll win for you."

- End of Chapter 1 -