Tribute Stories

I won the Hunger Games once. They called me a Victor, but I know better. The Capitol took everything from me, my family, the boy I loved, even the right to call myself alive. I tried to disappear into the quiet: the bottle, the piano, the years between Games. But you can't hide from the world when it's burning. Then came a girl on fire, a spark that refused to die. And somewhere between her defiance and the Quarter Quell, I remembered what it felt like to fight back. This is my story. From the day I was reaped to the day the war ended. From a blood-soaked arena to the long silence after the revolution. Because in the Hunger Games, there are no winners. Only survivors. (68th games-Epilogue in Mockingjay) *I don't own the Hunger Games all rights of the original work go to Suzanne Collins. I only own the original characters that I have included in TINW.*

'And so it was decreed that each year, the Twelve districts of Panem, shall offer in tribute one young man and woman, between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to be trained in the art of survival and to be prepared to fight to their death.' Cato Hadley and Clove Kentwell are Distict 2 career tributes, but aren't like the others. They have a secret nobody else knows about, not even the hidden cameras around the arena. And that may just be the same facade Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen claimed- that they are star-crossed lovers. Cato Hadley and Clove Kentwell have been waiting their whole lifes for their chance to participate in the Hunger Games, together. Clove throws knifes- she never misses. Cato is a sword handler- the best of them all. Do they have what it takes to win the Games and come back to their district as the victors of the 74th anual Hunger Games? Winning means fame and fortune. Loosing means certain death. The Hunger Games Have Begun...

Hi guys! Here's an attempt at a webtoon adaptation of "Treasured by the Dragon" by @sylviaNgould for the Project Portal Contest on Wattpad. In the aftermath of war, Taliyah, the proud princess of a losing kingdom is sacrificed as a tribute to a cruel dragon lord in place of gold. Now living in the dragon's castle, she struggles between hatred and lust for the unexpectedly gentle beast while the threat of a crueler race of dragons looms on the horizon. Hope you all like it! ;3 Cephias is so hot, had so much fun with him and my queen Tali.

Welcome to the 21st annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor. Now complete! Create your own tribute Now! SYOT CLOSED 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3....2...1

Callie, Cato, Katniss and Peeta, have made it out of the 74th Hunger Games arena together! But not unscathed. Both Callie and Katniss have done defying and rebellious things during their time in the arena. And due to this, this year's Quarter Quell was born. To make those victors know that they are making others pay for their actions. Now, Katniss and Callie again don't know who they can trust. Can they trust each other despsite their past? Will they work together? And what will happen with a Career in the oncoming rebellion? (I DONT OWN THE PLOT OR SERIES EXCEPT FOR MY OWN CHARACTERS) TW: CURSE WORDS (I will probably still be adding parts of songs in, and I don't own the artwork on the cover)

A tribute to Payno... A message for us fans... And a way to make him proud and cope with his loss 😢

Being reaped for a festivity called the Hunger Games is either a blessing or a curse. Laneya Byrne isn't sure how she views it. One minutes it's paradise, the next it's a nightmare. How is anyone expected to survive without every line blurring along the way? The Hunger Games fanfiction + Finnick Odair "It comes and goes in waves and carries us away." Status update: On hold because my editing skills are slower than a snails

These are the poems from the story Grief

A tribute to the little ones that we were excited for, but never met...

I was born into this life. Lethal. Vicious. Menicing. Evil. Arrogant. Murderer. I am a killer. Soon enough i will be thrown into a slaughter house. Fighting for my life. Clove...my district partner, my new friend, is coming with me. I've always kind of liked her. But i wasnt really positive until that moment...

What if the Hunger Games were back. What if Peeta and Katniss couldn't protect their Daughter from the dangers of the Capitol and the games when she she is picked but things take a surprising twist when Willow repeats her father's past but there are some changes.

You can write what you desire here and I will make a chapter for each person who decides to write a paragraph for Chester.

This is a Fanfiction by yours truly! I'm looking for some people to submit tributes. I think it would be really cool to have a story that you guys helped create! Just post it in the comments. Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated! The prologue can be located at the bottom of the page.

The episodic podcast of the Grief EP of the audio episodes

Historia Grant was always known as the odd one out. How she acted, how she learned, even her hair. She could finally live her own life after her school days at the academy. But that would all change when her and her classmates final assignment is mentor a tribute for The Hunger Games.. ||Treech x Fem Oc|| ||Reaper Ash x Fem Oc|| ||Coral x Fem Oc|| 'It's quicker And easier to eat your young." ALL RIGHTS OF THE HUNGER GAMES BELONG TO SUZANNE COLLINS, ONLY THING I OWN IS THE CHARACTERS I MADE.

The house was full of children, men, women, and widows. The children who were always present during the Christmas and New Year season. Maybe even more numerous. The men and women at home were definitely more, no doubt: my uncles, aunts, some cousins, and a few nieces and nephews. Almost everyone was present. Those who weren't had very important places to be. Home was home. But this was not a seasonal period; it was early September, 2021. Unlike during the holidays, the presence of the entire family - both those I knew well and those I didn't - swarming like flies around a large, festering wound, was not caused by something good. Dad's chair sat emptily consecrated. His room was padlocked, the key in our firstborn's bunch of keys. His sitting room - almost twice as large as the general sitting room - was clean, with a standing frame displaying his pictures, name, age, date of birth and death, and a Bible quotation at the bottom. It stood in an isolated corner of the room. My father had died some days earlier, in my arms, and my brother had begun asking me to provide my tribute to him. Thoughts of what to say, or how to structure it - whether to write a letter, as was traditional, or go my own way by writing a poem - troubled me. I had so much to say that could fill an entire pamphlet if I were to be fully honest. For days, I left the pamphlet maker in suspense, not submitting anything. In the end, I just dropped 'something', so the space that was reserved for me wouldn't remain empty. However, I felt burdened and burned by the words I would have written, especially when I saw the words that weren't mine fill the space meant for my tribute. At last, I picked up my notebook, which I call my diary, and began sketching words into it. I poured the memories I had of my father. I haven't written much, nor have I written all that I have to say, nor will I. But one thing is certain: good things never leave us completely; they sometimes stay behind in small packages.

Jane sits on the beach and stares into ocean

A small poem by me for the independence day

This is a tribute to my grandpa.