i am a tribute of district three

THE GAMING HUNGER GAMES

Welcome, Welcome, to the first Gaming Games! Pictured below our your tributes! You will vote off your least favorite tribute once a week until the last man alive wins! Sound off in the comment section below. Voting begins Every Friday when I upload and ends the next Friday when I upload once again. Vote by listing the YouTubers name you want off and rehub to spread the word. Now In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… VOTE!

District One : VanossGaming & Four0Seven

District Two : H2ODelirious & LuiCalibre

District Three : Daithi De Nogla & SilentDroidd

District Four: Cartoonz & MiniLadd

District Five : BigJigglyPanda & IAmWildcat

District Six : BasicallyIDoWrk & The Gaming Terroriser

District Seven : MooSnuckle & Ohm Wrecker

District Eight : Swagger Souls & Smi77y

District Nine : Fitz & John On The Radio

District Ten : Soviet Womble & Cyanide

District Eleven : KYRSp33dy & VideoGameDumky

District Twelve : Jon Tron & iNotorious


Happy Hunger Games and May the odds be ever in your favor.


Our President @bunnyandcreek says “You binches gon die :)”

The Clato AU where Clove and Cato win the 74th Hunger Games instead of Katniss and Peeta. Hunger Games AU.


The cannon signals the death of the small, wiry-bodied boy from 10. After a struggle at the base of the Cornucopia, he was brought down almost too easily by the pair from Two.

      Clove and Cato wait for the arrival of the hovercraft to take the body, but there isn’t one, and it sends Clove shouting into the air, “Hey! What’s going on?” Her hand to her head, closing over the gash left there from the fight. Her split lip stings when she yells.

      Cato suggests, rubbing at his forearm, “Maybe it’s the body. Come on, let’s move away.”

      So they do. They walk over to the lake, and both take much-needed drinks. She tries to remember if in past years you have to distance yourself from the final kill, but her brain so muddled, she can’t; why else would there be a delay?

      As Clove stoops to take another gulp of the lake water, Claudius Templesmith’s voice breaks over the speakers.

      “Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed,” he says. “Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.” There’s a small burst of static and then nothing more.

      They just stand there, staring at one another. Two Careers, making it to the end—it’s not surprising at all. What is, though, is that they haven’t pounced at the other yet at the chance of winning. That in the ten seconds of silence later, both of them are still alive—not one of them with a sword to the heart, or a knife to the throat.

      They’re shocked. 

      Only one of them can go home. 

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2

I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta’s hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a goodbye, and we begin counting. “One.” Maybe I’m wrong. “Two.” Maybe they don’t care if we both die. “Three!” It’s too late to change my mind. I lift my hand to my mouth, taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare.

The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. “Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you — the tributes of District Twelve!”

6

“And now we honor out third Quarter Quell,” says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. We can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president removes an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, “On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”
My mother gives a faint shriek and Prim buries her face in her hands, but I feel more like the people I see in the crowd on television. Slightly baffled. What does it mean? Existing pool of victors?
Then I get it, what it means. At least, for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male. One female…
I am going back into the arena.

A Cold Reaping

A Hunger Games AU where Anna was chosen for the 74th Hunger Games and Elsa volunteered instead. Elsa still has winter magic but she has hid it from everyone (including Anna) because she and her parents had no idea what the Capitol would do if they ever found out.

Kai (Haymitch) convinces Elsa to reveal what she is during the individual evaluations because she needs her score to be high - people are not interested in the closed off, angry persona she exudes. Once everyone sees her magic she instantly becomes the favourite and the Capitol dubs her The Snow Queen.  

During the Games Elsa doesn’t prove to be the unstoppable killer they all expected her to be. No one realized that Elsa has very little control of her magic and it only gets worse when she is frightened. Besides that Elsa has spent her entire life trying not to hurt people with her magic.

It isn’t until the tribute from District 1 kills little Olaf that she becomes the monster she always feared lurked within her.

This is a one-shot of that fateful reaping. FFN

Thirty-seven.

Thirty-seven times my name would be entered in the pool; the odds were definitely not in my favour.

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If Peeta and I were both to die, or they thought we were….My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. “No, I won’t let you.” “Trust me,” I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. “On the count of three?” Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says. We stand, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight. “Hold them out. I want everyone to see,” he says. I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta’s hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a good-bye, and we begin counting. “One.” Maybe I’m wrong. “Two.” Maybe they don’t care if we both die. “Three!” It’s too late to change my mind. I lift my hand to my mouth taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare. The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. “Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you - the tributes of District 12!
—   Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games