My Roman Empire:

my roman empire:

Don’t Forget Me

I’ve never written anything before, but I’m so obsessed with tbosas I couldn’t help myself.

Warnings: Mentions of death

Treech x Reader

“The odds were never in our favour.”

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Your name echoes in the square. Everything goes silent, so dreadfully silent.

Please let this be a dream. Please let this be a dream. Please.

You stand there trying to remember how to breathe, totally stunned. The blood in your body is frozen. The minutes tick by, but you cannot bring yourself to move. You can faintly hear the crowd murmuring, but the ringing in your ears overpowers them. It isn’t until someone nudges you that you are brought back to your body and slowly start to walk through the crowd. It feels like you are walking to your grave.

Once you find your place by the mayor, your eyes begin scanning the boys' section, hoping to find Treech. As if by just looking at him, everything would somehow be okay. When you spot him, he’s already staring at you. His eyes were full of what you can only describe as pure heartbreak.

You’re too distracted to notice when the mayor walks to the second bowl. Until the second familiar name of the day is called, it feels like someone’s punched a hole in your chest as you watch the blood drain from Treech’s face. The shock of the moment barely registers in your mind. How can this be happening? Out of thousands of slips, your names get drawn!

The boys stir and make a path for Treech as he walks robotically towards the stage. His eyes never break contact with yours. As you watch him ascend the stairs, you fear you might start crying, the tears burning the back of your eyes. Before you can stop it, a soft, choked noise escapes you.

The pitying eyes of your district make you want to scream. An hour ago, you still had a future, and now you were a dead girl walking. You feel weightless like the slightest breeze will whisk you away. Part of you wishes it would. Your only anchor is when Treech reaches out and firmly grips your hand, a silent promise to stay by each other's side no matter what.

Me after finding no fanfic about characters with two minutes of screen time

Real footage of me if I was being chased but it’s by Coriolanus Snow

Hii I love the way u write the treech and reader storys and I was wondering if u can make a romantic lamina and treech story💗💗 thank youuu

A/n: Aww thank you!! I struggled to write Lamina, not gonna lie, but I think it turned out okay.

Warnings: angst

Paring: Treech x Lamina

Word Count: 849

“Lamina!” Treech called up to her. “Come down, you’re going to be late!”

He would have thought she hadn’t heard him if he hadn’t seen her eyes flit down to him. Realizing she wasn’t climbing down, Treech latched onto one of the branches and began climbing up to where Lamina was sitting.

“C’mon, it’s Reaping Day. You gonna show up with leaves in your hair again,” Treech said, flicking a strand of her hair.

Lamina, ever soft-spoken, replied, “I’ll be down soon. Just need a minute.” She turned back to staring at the sky. Treech couldn't understand why she liked looking at it, but it made her happy.

Treech could sense she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Lamina always took Reaping Day hard. He decided it’d be best to give her space, “All right, I’m off, see you after.” He said, patting her knee before beginning to climb down.

When he reached the ground, he was out of breath. He honestly did not know how Lamina could climb so high. Making his way back to the trail, he wondered if he should stop by the market and pick up something nice for dinner. It’d be a nice way to celebrate.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

When he arrived home, a warm bath was waiting for him. He scrubbed off the grime that collected while he was out and about. It always surprised Treech how much could accumulate out in the forest.

When finished, he slips on one of his dressier shirts and a worn gray blazer. While he’s adjusting his appearance in the mirror, his mom walks up behind him.

“You look handsome,” his mom says, pinching his cheek affectionately.

A smile stretched across Treech’s face, making him feel like a young boy again.

His mom walked over to the dresser, pulling out his dad’s old hat, “I want you to wear this,” she said as she placed it on his head.

Feeling choked up, Treech nodded, pulling his mom into a hug, “I’ll see you after.”

Walking out the door, he followed the rest of District 7 to the reaping

square. Having to stand in the crowded square was his least favorite part of the reaping…well, besides possibly getting picked. Treech’s thoughts couldn’t help but trail to Lamina; she hated crowds more than him, and he wondered how she was holding up.

Treech scanned the crowd for her. He spotted her near the edge of the girl section. Fear is plastered across her face as she fidgets nervously. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.” Treech wishes he could whisper to her.

After what feels like an eternity, the mayor steps on stage and begins to read. Treech doesn’t bother to pay attention anymore; it's the same story every year. He only tunes back in when it’s time to draw the girls’ names.

The mayor reached in and dug through the slips of paper before pulling one out. He crossed back over to the microphone and read out the name, Lamina. You could’ve heard a pin drop. It was so silent.

Someone might as well have punched him in the stomach. He can’t breathe. The mayor must’ve read the slip wrong, Treech repeated like a mantra. They can’t have called Lamina. He almost convinced himself that was the case until a familiar auburn stumbled out of the crowd.

Treech felt the panic rising in his chest. He’d never felt this helpless before. She looked so fragile standing on the stage. He nearly sobbed when he saw she did have leaves in her hair. Everything in him was screaming at him to grab her and shield her from all the bad in the world.

Lamina couldn’t die for them. He won’t be able to handle watching her become another unwilling sacrifice for the Capitol.

Please, don’t take her away from me.

He was too lost in thought to even notice when the mayor moved on to the boys until he heard his name ringing across the square. A numbness settled in him; he felt as if he were in a dream, looking down on everything, not even in control of his body as he made his way to the stage.

Once on stage, he thinks that he’s never felt more exposed. The entirety of District 7’s eyes are on him. Next to him, he can feel Lamina’s sobs coming out in full force. Wanting to provide some comfort, he reached his hand for her to hold. She took it and gripped it as if it were her lifeline.

His own tears threatened to spill out. They were being sent to the Hunger Games. Oh god, he doesn't want to die…not like this.

He was too in shock to even fight back when the Peacekeepers dragged them off stage and tossed them towards the station. Lamina surprised him, though she fought them every step of the way, squirming against their grip.

Despite her struggle and his lack thereof, it didn’t matter because the Peacekeepers shoved them inside a cattle cart and locked the doors, leaving them in the dark.

But if your reaction to hearing “an innocent child died” is “Well, what nationality or religion were they?” then you are fucked up beyond belief.