"And for this year's Quarter Quell, we will be accepting two contestants of any age and gender! No separation at all. This is to show that everyone is effected by the rebellion and no-one is safe! Thank you! And May the Odds be Ever in Your Favour!" the overly cheery voice shouted. And everyone in district 12 felt their hearts plummet.

REAPING DAY

District 1:

Everyone stood, excited. For them, this was a sign of pride and honour, not a mass murder game. Adults held their children up high and the toughest district members were fighting over who would volunteer. The announcer cleared their throat and everyone looked up.

"And the first tribute, Talbot, Bela!" The crowd parted as a beautiful young woman entered. She smirked confidently.

"I VOLUNTEER!" A feisty 20-something year old shrieked.

Bela simply cackled, "As if."

"And our second tribute, Adler, Irene!" Yet another beautiful woman strutted up to the stage. The men wolf whistled but she just ignored them. Both girls stood side by side. They were going to slaughter every other district. And both tributes knew it.

District 2:

The names were called. Some puny nobodies, in Lucifer's opinion. His hand flew straight up.

"I VOLUNTEER!" He shouted, and before anyone could tell him otherwise he sprinted up the stage, literally shoving the other tributes off. His brother, Gabriel, bit his lip. Their father had said not to volunteer, he couldn't stand to lose any of them. But Gabriel wanted to be like his brother. And he figured they could both get out alive, even if it was against the rules. He shot up onto the stage.

"ME TOO!" he yelled. Lucifer stared, his eyes wide.

"No!" he started, but it was too late. Both brothers were marched off the stage.

District 3:

Mas stared at Ten. He just prayed to whatever holy deity that neither of them ended up on that stage.

"Our first lovely tribute, Master," the Capitol official declared. Mas cringed, and walked silently up to the stage. At least it's not Ten, he thought. Spoke too soon…

"And joining him is Ten!" Mas' face drained of any colour. He knew Ten would never like a psycho like him but that never stopped him wishing. And now he must protect Ten at all costs.

District 4:

"Settle down! Now, now! Our quarter quell tributes are, Mary Morstan and Rose Tyler! Bravo! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" The two blonde women walked purposefully towards the stage.

"Hello, I'm Rose. I'll guess you're Mary?" Rose greeted awkwardly.

"Yep! You seem, pretty okay."

"You too. Sooo, do you fight?"

"HELL YEAH!" The two walked off, chatting and talking about battle plans.

District 5:

Jim Moriarty looked around. It was hard to see because he was so small but he pushed his way to the front. He didn't even wait for the reaping ceremony, just crawling onto the stage.

"I'll do it," he offered calmly.

"Well look at that! A volunteer! How wonderful! Anyone want to join him?" Then a young, muscular man with a scar running through his eye walked forward.

"Why not?" he smirked. Jim was impressed by his chill and charisma. This would certainly be a fun partner to murder with.

District 6:

Not many people volunteer in district 6. It was a very average district, in all honesty. That's probably why Greg Lestrade was standing there, on the stage. No one even tried to take his place. He didn't even mind. He didn't bother listening to anything the loud Capitol announcer said. That was why he jumped when he felt a hand tap him. The hand belonged to a cheery man standing beside him.

"Hallo! I'm Eleven, but just call me Ele. I take it you are Greg, huh? This is a bit of a pain, isn't it?" Greg just nodded. He felt like curling up into a ball and just laying on the ground. But Ele wouldn't let that happen. "You're awfully quiet, aren't you? You seem nice though. What are you good at? I'm okay at throwing spears. It's very fun…" Ele led Greg away, chatting and beaming.

District 7:

Bobby glanced up at the stage. They were picking out the names now.

"Missy!" A jubilant voice called out. An eccentric looking woman skipped up to the stage. Bobby liked the look of her, she was original. Not a mindless sheep.

"And joining her, Bobby Singer! Well done! Well done!" Bobby barely took in what was just said. Then he realized, and slowly shuffled to the stage. He thought one more thing before he was led away. I'm too old for this shit.

District 8:

The capitol must have planned this. They must have. Because there would be no other explanation except from pure coincidence for the happy couple, Rory and Amy, to be called out. The pair held hands and marched to the stage, tears forming in their eyes. This wasn't fair this wasn't fair this wasn't fair this wasn't- Rory's anxious mind was halted as his partner lent in and kissed him. They kissed passionately and for a moment, everything was still. Then they broke apart and Amy leaned into Rory and whispered into his ear, "Screw the Capitol." And everything was alright again.

District 9:

"Novak, Castiel," a tired voice read out. The announcers from 9 up had drawn the short straw. There was no chance to win here, not at all. A man in a trench coat walked up and silently shook hands. The announcer coughed and continued reading. "And also Macleod, Crowley. Thank you." A man wearing an old suit came forward.

"Ah, hello. Guess we should make an alliance, huh?" Crowley suggested.

"I barely even know you. We are not making an alliance." Castiel turned away, trying to ignore Crowley.

"Okay, bestie."

"Don't call me that."

"Sure, BFF"

"Not that either."

District 10:

For once, even Molly Hooper, the happiest girl in the district, was silent, biting her lip apprehensively.

"Ah, let's see. Tributes from district 10, Bill Potts." Molly looked around, face pale, trying to spot the poor tribute. Her eyes landed on a girl with frizzy hair and colourful clothes. She was kinda cute. "And joining her, Molly Hooper." Suddenly the world closed in on Molly. She felt her legs turn to jelly and her sight go fuzzy. Then everything went black.

"Um, Molly? Molly! Someone help!" That was the last thing she heard, a frizzy haired figure standing above her.

District 11:

Sherlock was fidgeting, he hadn't had a fix in a few weeks and was coming out on the tail end of withdrawal. He had been forced to so he wasn't high if he was selected.

"Harry Watson!" A pale, bony woman staggered towards the stage. Clearly an alcoholic. Sherlock deduced. Then a well-built, level-headed man walked towards the stage.

"Stop! Stop. No. No way. Harry? Harry! Get down! I'll do it."

"Okay! What's your name, son?" the man on stage called out.

"John. John Watson."

"Thank you, John. And joining him, Holmes," Sherlock's heart stopped, "Mycroft Holmes." Everything was spinning. His brother had a blank face, but Sherlock could practically hear his mind screaming. He knew what he must do.

"I'll do it. Cheerio, Mycroft!" He waved, walking off. Mycroft was left wondering what just happened.

District 12:

Dean was satisfied. Or as satisfied as he could be. He had taken all the tesseraes for Sam, there was no chance his brother was getting picked. Until they called out the names.

"Dean Winchester." Dean bit his lip, but walked up. He whispered in his brother's ear on the way past.

"Don't you dare volunteer, Sammy."

"And joining him, what a coincidence," Dean felt his soul leave him. No way… "Sam Winche-"

"NO!" Dean screamed, "NO! NO! NO!" A capitol guard walked up to him and slid a needle into his arm.