Twilight Serenade (A Hunger Games/Glee Crossover)

I recently read "Your Heart Outside Your Body" and God was it upsetting. The author was amazing at writing out the scenes, but it was sad
But that's beside the point. The point is that while the fic was sad it inspired me to try my hand at the same thing. I don't think I'll be as awesome but I can try :)

There isn't enough room here for an actual description. Read the first chapter and I'll give you some basic background okay?

Enjoy :)

Chapter 1

Quarter Quell

Hey everyone! This is Danielle, the author of what is sure to be a trainwreck but hey that's what's so fun about this. I'm going to try and make it so if you've never read the Hunger Games or you haven't watched Glee you can still enjoy this, hence lots of background info and tons of info within the story that will be explained later... Anyways background!
This story will take place during a Quarter Quell. This specific Hunger Games will be especially painful for the families of the tributes. Because not only one of their children has to go in.....
If you have no idea what I'm talking about with reaping and Quarter Quell then hold on, you'll get the hang of it soon enough :)
There will be a lot of OCs that aren't in Glee or the Hunger Games and I'll introduce them all when the time is right. Is everyone ready? Well hold on to your hats then!
And may the odds be ever in your favor.

Blaine Anderson emerges from his house, his older sister Rachel close behind. Today is an important day for the citizens of Panem. Reaping day. The day that two tributes from each of the twelve districts are chosen to compete to the death in the Hunger Games.
Blaine isn't too worried as they all gather in their town square. He takes a deep breath of the salt air and smiles slightly. He's prepared for this. He's been prepared his whole life, and he's been waiting for his name to be called since age twelve. He'd even been very close to volunteering last year, but his slightly psychotic sister had stopped him. This year would be different though. He would volunteer no matter what Rachel said. He needs to get out of here. Besides, that's what is expected of District 4 tributes. You want to go in and fight. The honor and rewards are numerous, and District 4 is normally pretty successful along with Districts 1 and 2.
Rachel glances over at Blaine and he nods curtly at her. Their parents are probably just coming in from the docks, he sees a group of adults approaching quickly from that area. Rachel must spot them because she waves and they're soon joined by their mom and dad.
The escort for District 4, Gordon Taylor, mounts the stage as their mayor finishes reading the Treaty of Treason and moves on to listing the surviving victors of District 4. The crowd is hushed and Blaine remains breathing normally, his eyes trained on the man before him. "It's a Quarter Quell this year," Blaine hears his mother whisper in that frantic voice of hers, "I hope we don't have to vote on who has to go like last time."
"I'd vote for Blaine," Dad's voice says back. He hears Rachel gasp at that but Blaine just chuckles. He knows his father hates him, but at the same time being sent to the Games in District 4 is an honor, much to the chagrin of Rachel. So Blaine will decide to take that as a compliment, even if it wasn't meant to be one.
Once the mayor is done Gordon moves to the podium. "This year, because it is the Quarter Quell, things will be going a bit... differently." He smiles at them all, revealing the shiniest teeth Blaine had ever seen. Those Capitol people and their strange fashions.... those must all be silver or something. He's so intent on the teeth he almost misses the next part of the speech. "As a reminder that whole rebel families were obliterated by the Capitol, this year two pairs of siblings will be put into the Games."
A gasp rises over the crowds and Blaine feels Rachel latch onto his arm. He glances over at her and shakes his head slightly. Never mind him volunteering, he'd never do that to his unwilling sister. He watches, as Gordon reaches into the large ball sitting upon the podium. He pulls the slip out and grins. "And our first pair will be.... the Anderson siblings!"
Rachel faints.


Sam Evans glances nervously around the town square of District 5, his younger brother standing near him without a care. Of course Barden isn't upset, he never is. He just doesnt understand the gravity of this situation. If the Evans name was called, then they were both going in. Barden is just of age for the reaping this year. 12. Much too young to be battling for his life. But then again Sam considered his own age, 16, to be too young as well.
Their escort tips her hand dramatically into the jar and whips out a card. "Jennings!" she twitters. Sam watches as two girls make their way to the stage, looking lost. "Oh dear, oh dear. But you're both girls. We need two boys and two girls. Luckily, the capitol was prepared for this!" Another ball appears. "Only families with two boys appear in this ball," the escort informs the crowd, a smile still plastered on her face. She reaches in and Sam tenses. "Evans!"
Barden gasps and looks up at Sam, his eyes wide. Maybe his brother finally understands why Sam's so worried now.


"Santana! Puck! Close the cattle pen and let's go!" their adoptive father yells.
Santana brushes her hair out of her face and glances over at her adoptive brother. "Ready to go Egg-head."
"Sure thing Satan," he shoots back. Their name-calling is a bit subdued today because of the reaping that they're anticipating. They both just can't wait until it's over and they can relax back into their usual banter.

".....siblings," the escort finishes before producing a single reaping ball with flourish.
Noah Puckerman knocks into Santana's back with his hand. "We're safe. We aren't related. We're orphans. Scot-free baby."
Santana shakes her head. For some reason she doesn't think it's that easy. "Schuler," the escort reads out. The name of their adoptive parents. Santana had been right.
"They aren't our real children. Adopted. Both of them!" the mother cries out. Peacekeepers start towards her and Puck rests a hand on her shoulder.
"It's not worth it," he says softly before turning back to Santana. He nods towards the stage and they take hands before walking towards their fate.


Kurt feels his father's hand tighten on his shoulder. Siblings? Kurt thinks to himself as the escort for District 11, a very ditzy looking woman, dips her hand into the reaping ball. Isn't it bad enough for the families to suffer one loss?
Finn shakes his head. "Man, what if we're picked? We're both boys. Don't they still want an even amount of boys and girls?"
Kurt shrugs. "I'm sure they have it all planned out." He can't help but latch on to that small sense of hope though, that maybe because they're both boys or because they're step-siblings they can't be picked. No, he can't think that way. He can't be lulled into a false sense of security. Kurt has learned that growing up in this backwards rural district that he can never let his guard down. Especially since it's him.
"The Eads familiy!" their escort announces.
Carole and Burt visibly relax next to their two sons, but Kurt is still tense. There's still another family's name to be called. And he has a bad feeling about this. Especially since the Eads only have two girls.
"Annnnd... from the boys only baaaaall," their escort draws out her words as another ball appears. "The Hudson-Hummels!"
Finn looks like he's about to be sick. Kurt stays standing tall as a rock hits his side. "That's what you get, homo!" someone shouts. He sees his father's face growing red and Carole rests a hand on his arm.
"Burt..." she says softly, but he pulls away from her and bows his head as his two boys walk up to meet the person who will escort them to their death.

Sooooo.... you like it?! Should be pretty intense hmm? Yes, I changed what the 50th Hunger Games were, no they do not include Haymitch now. Sorry if that annoys you. Yes, this COULD end up a bit simliar to the Hunger Games books, no I'm not sure if they will or not. Lots of maybes. Lots and lots of maybes.

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