Hi everyone! I know I haven't updated Fairy Tales in a long time, but I'm back with more Spamano.

I must warn you all, though, this is a Hunger Games AU and so some characters WILL DIE. And it WILL BE SAD. 22 characters, to be exact. And, there is BAMF!Lovino who is prickly mean but still loves his brother. And if you still want to read this, then go on, I give feels for free me lovelies. Fairy tales will have a much happier ending than this, but this will still have a sweet-ish ending.

Also, while reading this story, I wholly suggest you listen to the Hunger Games soundtrack. For added effect. For this chapter, the songs I most recommend to read are:

Eyes Open by Taylor Swift

Tomorrow Will Be Kinder by The Secret Sisters

Dark Days by Punch Brothers

Come Away to the Water by Maroon 5

Daughters Lament by The Carolina Chocolate Drops

Just a Game by Birdy.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon in district 12, light bleeding through the trees and the world just waking up. Lovino got ready in silence, occasionally glancing at the still sleeping figure of his younger brother. The wind whistled through their sad excuse of a house, a run down shack at the edge of the district, and Feliciano shifted, face scrunched some in his sleep. Lovino knew he needed to go, before his brother got up and asked to go with him.

When Romano Lovino Vargas was 7, his grandfather, who had raised him and his twin brother for as long as he could remember, took him into the forest and handed him a bow. From the age of 7, he had broken the law to help feed his family. He remember, vaguely, being so jealous of his brother, who was everyone's friend and his grandfather's favorite, and sometimes the feeling lingered, but since their grandfather passed away in a mine accident, he didn't care anymore. Feliciano had memories of Grandpa Roma teaching him to paint and sing, of happier days not worrying about food, and Romano had memories of truth, of teachings of survival and clear, bright mornings shooting until he had food for both dinner and money. He knew how to sell his kill and to who, and even if somehow the memories were bitter, he knew his grandfather was right; his brother was too sweet and naive to be forced to kill and survive, and Romano was the only option.

And it was for the best. He was willing to crawl through the hole in the fence that used to be electrified, was willing to break the law and risk so much for Feliciano. Because people loved his younger twin, but merely tolerated Lovino. He was surly and snarky and no one knew how to talk to him. People flocked to Feli, everyone was his friend and he didn't deserve to see what a rotten world they were living in.

So he hunted and sold his meat and brought home food and even tolerated that stupid potato bastard who his brother was talking of marrying in the summer.

Romano slid through the hole in the fence that marked district 12 off from the trees and used to be electrified, which his grandfather had shown him years ago, and set about getting his kill for the day, quiet and at home in the woods.

It was their last year in the reaping. Lovino's name must have been in the drawing at least a hundred times, put in after he put in extra food, but his brother's is only in as many times as it has to be. Not that Feli could ever know that; to him Romano is just his hot head brother who disappears until late afternoon and who cusses too much.

They gather in the square for the reaping and Feliciano is scared like he is every year, pressed close to Ludwig in the crowd of children and teenagers. There were people from the Capitol gathered around up front, and two large looking clear bowls set center stage, filled with paper slips of names to be selected for the 74th annual Hunger Games.

"Welcome, welcome!" A man in colorful clothes all but shouted into the mic. In other districts, where careers were raised, this was probably met with cheering, but in district 12 the crowd merely fell silent, watching him. "Isn't this just exciting?" He asked finally, grinning. Romano hated this part, the idiots from the Capitol not seeming to completely grasp that they were killing people, selecting someone's brother, someone's sister, or best friends. The man kept blathering on, talking about "74 years of tradition" and all the Capitol did for the districts, but no one was really listening, all waiting for the drawing and the news that they were safe.

The moment finally came. "We'll draw the lady first, of course." He said, smiling. His hand dug around in the large bowl and came out with a single slip of paper. "Sophia del Merta!" Romano glanced around for the girl, knowing her name but not her face. She was a year younger than them and a little weak looking. She was escorted up onto the stage, looking terrified but resolved. She had a large family, three older brothers and two younger sisters, but they remained silent, watching in resigned horror.

"And now, for our gentleman!" He said, drawing a name and opening it. He looked a little lost at how to pronounce it at first, but soon enough he smiled charmingly and called out, "Feliciano Vargas!"

No one moved, no one breathed, all was silent as his brother, Romano's soft brother who rescued injured birds and painted and sang and was hopelessly in love, looked around in confused distress before he started to cry loudly, and peacekeepers grabbed at him.

Lovino watched in horror, frozen until he saw Ludwig move, intentions clear in his eyes. He knew he couldn't let him volunteer: he needed to do it. So pushed his way to the aisle, screaming, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Everyone was staring at him, confused as to why harsh, rude Lovino would volunteer for anyone, even his own brother.

"Lovi! Lovi, no!" His brother cried, being handed off from the peacekeepers to Ludwig despite his struggles and the tears streaming down his face.

Romano is guided up the steps and stands next to Sophia, staring out at the grave faces of the people of his district.

"Oh, wow! The first ever volunteer for this district! How amazing. What's your name?"

He hated this people, he couldn't stand them, but if he was rude like normally, they could haul his brother back up there in his place and he wasn't taking the risk. "Romano Vargas." He ground out.

"With that last name, you must be his brother, yes? How touching! Let's have a hand for our tributes for this year!" No one clapped. Romano could still hear Feliciano crying but refused to look at him. There was a moment before the crowd started raising their hands, holding up three fingers in the district 12 sign of respect.

Romano had learned a long time ago not regret the decisions he made, and he wasn't going to start then.

Be sure and review, please! I am highly debating whether I will continue this at all, so...