BORN TO DIE; marvel sanford x reader

PROLOGUE; the reaping

"may the odds be ever in your favor"

...

WAKING UP IN THE MORNING was always different on reaping day.

Some went on with their everyday activities, while others stayed in a kind of nervous, catatonic state until the names were drawn.

It was the same for you in District 3. Your name was only in 7 times. You had never needed to take tesserae, and now you were 18. It was your last year in the draw for the Hunger Games.

You hadn't been reaped before, and if you weren't this time, you were just going to volunteer. You believed you could do it.

While District 3 tributes weren't classified as the careers, like 1 and 2, since you were 12 years old you had been teaching yourself skills. You wanted to be prepared. Even if training before the Games was technically illegal.

Of course at first it wasn't really anything. Only after you turned 14 it got serious. That was when your brother had been reaped.

Then after a while, learning skills to be prepared turned into wanting to be in the games. Wanting a role.

When you woke up on the reaping day of the 74th annual Hunger Games, you were prepared.

You were lying in your bed, staring up at the plain ceiling with not one fiber of your being feeling nervous. Or worried.

You showered and dressed nice, staring at yourself in the mirror until your mother walked in. Her hands were on the sides of your shoulders and you just stared.

Then soon the siren blared, saying it was time to gather by the Justice Building for the reaping.

You started walking away from your mother and out of your bedroom. You didn't say a word as you left the house, listening as the siren blared through the district for a second time.

You just wanted the entire event to hurry up. Which it did, because soon after your finger was pricked and you were stood near the front of the large crowd of kids.

The older you were, the closer you stood to the front.

The Capitol representative who would come by every year for the reaping took the stage once again and tapped the microphone a few times.

"Welcome! Welcome, all." The bubbly woman spoke. She intricate makeup covering her face and strangely styled hair that you assumed was what everyone in the Capitol dressed like. "Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor."

They better be this time, You thought. District 3 never got a large number of volunteers, but it had happened before.

"Now, before we begin, we have a very special film to play brought all the way from the Capitol!" Waving to the large screen beside her, everyone turned to look at the screen.

While you were facing and looking at it, you weren't paying attention, you were just imagining exactly how you were going to act after you were reaped, or how you would volunteer.

Soon the music cut off and the Capitol woman smiled into the microphone again. "Now, the time has come to select the tributes, one young man and woman, to represent District 3 for the 74th annual Hunger Games."

Finally, You stared up at the stage.

"As usual, ladies first." The woman dipped her hand into the large bowl of names and soon pulled out a small slip of paper. She opened the slip and cleared her throat, leaning close to the microphone. "Y/N L/N."

You let yourself smile, before forcing it down. The girls around you all stared as you made your way out of the crowd, almost eagerly, to get to the stage.

"Ah, there you are." The woman smiled as you started walking up the steps. "Lovely."

She positioned you to stand on her left and with a wide smile, looked out at the crowd again.

"Now, for the boys." She dipped her hand in the bowl and pulled out another slip of paper. "Derek Campbell."

You watched as a short, 14-year-old boy stepped up onto the stage like you had moments earlier.

You had to shake his hand and then were taken off the stage and inside.

Your mother came to visit you before you were taken away. She was crying.

"Not both of you." She cried into your shoulder. "First your brother..."

Your older brother had been reaped in the 70th Hunger Games, 4 years ago. He didn't make it that far, but it only motivated you to do better.

"Mom, don't cry." You told her, sitting your hands on her shoulders. "I'm gonna win."

"Y/N..."

"No, Mom." You stared her directly in the eyes, speaking firmly. "I'm going to win. And that's that."

She stared cautiously and I didn't look away.

"I promise, Mom."

You thought about that promise later in the day as you sat on the train that was taking you to the Capitol.

It moved so fast that you couldn't even tell it was moving.

You sat at the table, the young boy beside you, and you waited for your mentors. Past victors were always the mentors, and it could've been your brother if he wasn't entirely useless.

"Um, I'm..." The boy beside you cleared his throat and held out his hand. "I'm Derek."

You eyed him for a moment before shaking his hand. You had no reason to be rude to him. "Y/N."

He was 4 years younger than you, and you knew he wouldn't really stand a chance in the arena. None of the younger kids ever really did.

Though, Finnick Odair from District 4 had won when he was 14, but circumstances were different too.

This kid next to you seemed extremely nervous. He wasn't confident in his abilities like you.

You hoped your mentors would be able to teach him enough to let him survive the initial bloodbath.

He seemed like a nice kid.

Then soon Beetee, an older man with glasses, walked into the train car. He had been a victor years before you were even born. He was your mentor.

You knew of him, but you had never met him before. You also knew he was smart, and was good with electronics, like you were, along with majority of District 3.

You watched as he sat down across from you two tributes with a sigh.

"Y/N and Derek, right?" Beetee looked between the two of you, and you nodded. "Welcome to the Hunger Games."