Multifandom One-shots

25. Beyond Blood - x female reader (The Hunger Games)

District 7, enveloped by the towering trees of our lumber-rich landscape, stood in solemn quietude. Citizens gathered in the gloomy square, the air thick with tension. The ominous Capitol anthem echoed through the cold, silent streets, intertwining with the scent of pine that permeated the district. In the midst of the crowd,

I, Y/N Y/L/N, blended seamlessly. My dark eyes reflected a mix of fear and defiance as the escort prattled on about the Capitol's glory and the honor of being chosen. Memories of past Hunger Games raced through my mind, the odds stacking against me as the Third Quarter Quell unfolded.

The reaping ball spun, and the escort's manicured hand selected a slip. "Lily Harper!" The name reverberated through the square. Lily, frail with wide eyes, looked at the ground, already resigned to her fate.

Without hesitation, my instincts kicked in. I couldn't let Lily face this. "I volunteer!" My voice cut through the solemn air. The crowd hushed as I took Lily's place, sparing her from the horrors of the Hunger Games. The escort, taken aback, struggled to regain composure. Lily, free from her inevitable fate, stared at me with disbelief and relief.

The Capitol cameras zoomed in, capturing my stone expression. Escorted to the stage, my hands shook, but my gaze remained firm. Some stared at me in sorrow, others in admiration and respect. The escort, with forced cheerfulness, attempted to redirect focus to the Capitol's supposed glory. "A volunteer, how noble! District 7, let us embrace this act of loyalty to the Capitol," his voice booming before whispering, "Now what is your name, dear?"

I looked up slowly, answering, "Y/N Y/L/N, sir."

Flanked by the Capitol escort, the weight of the moment settled. "Y/N Y/L/N, the Capitol welcomes your sacrifice!" Words gloss over disruption, reshaping the narrative.

Reactions in the crowd varied—some clapped in script, others exchanged uneasy glances, sensing lingering defiance. Lily mouthed a silent 'thank you,' expressing gratitude words couldn't convey. As the Capitol anthem faded, foreboding settled over District 7. The President's gaze calculated, trying to decipher the motivations behind this act of defiance. The escort signaled for me to follow, leading toward the Justice Building for customary interviews and preparations.

Echoing footsteps filled the Justice Building's cold walls. Capitol's emblem adorned every corner. Led to a room, stylists and prep teams waited, ready to transform me into a spectacle. The weight of my decision lingered. The rebellion, sparked defiance, now rested on my shoulders. The Capitol expected submission; I challenged that expectation in front of the entire district. Consequences uncertain, I set in motion events that could change everything.

Standing in the Justice Building, awaiting the next phase, the stylist and prep teams continued work on my appearance. The flowing dress, reflecting District 7's natural beauty, adorned me with elegance and defiance. Earthy tones, inspired by our district's trees, carried a message of resilience. Cuts in the fabric hinted at the determination that fueled my impulsive act. Subtle patterns told a story of unity, a nod to the twist of fate during the reaping.

A belt made from intertwined vines or leather accentuated my waist, a symbolic link to the forestry industry defining District 7. A pendant shaped like a tree hung around my neck, an emblem of defiance. Transformation complete, I stood before Capitol cameras—a living contradiction, a puppet molded by Capitol yet bearing District 7's spirit. The prep team, oblivious to its deeper significance, marveled at their creation. Little did they know, they inadvertently became accomplices in the act of defiance unfolding in District 7.

The door opened, signaling the next stage of Capitol's spectacle. I stepped out into the glaring lights of the Capitol's grand stage. Cheers and applause echoed, but I felt like an outsider in a world demanding conformity. The flowing dress, a testament to District 7's strength, billowed as I walked. The stylist's artistry turned me into a vision of elegance, but defiance whispered in every detail.