Dont Forget Me

𖠰 Don’t Forget Me 𖠰

paring | treech x tribute! reader

synopsis | after you’re reaped for the 10th annual hunger games, you must decide where your loyalties lie. just how far are you willing to go to stay alive?

warnings | angst, violence, descriptions of injuries, death, suicidal ideation 

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

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

ALIEN Franchise (1979-2024)

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.

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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.

Don’t Forget Me II

I was not planning on writing another part, but I couldn’t help myself

Warning: Language (?)

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

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After the mayor finishes his speech, it only takes seconds before Peacekeepers grab you. They rip you and Treech apart, ignoring your shouts of protest. Treech tries to reach for your hand again, but the Peacekeepers yank him back, nearly knocking him over.

The soldiers marched you to the train station towards an old cargo car locked with a heavy padlock. As you stood in front of the train car, you nearly gagged. The stench was overwhelming. The cart smelled rotted and thick with manure. You doubt they’d even bothered to clean it. You desperately didn’t want to get in, but you had no choice.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

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“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

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The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.