imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

so I know I’ve been inactive for a long ass time now due to some mental health stuff, but if people are still interested in the Treech x Reader fic I would consider continuing it 🤷‍♀️

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; VI Treech x Mentor!Reader 🌲Treech’s POV🌲

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.64k

Warnings: Cursing

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead @valdezsttuff @nekee-lilac02 @shykittycat @aceofspades190 @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @lostmoongoddess24 @nothing2113 @gracethg @primroseluna @multi-fandom-quote-chaos @cdragons @boreddemigodd @yazissupercool @baby-ditzzy

🎬Mood boards🎬

******************Treech’s POV*****************

He was about to throw up.

It had now been five hours that Treech had been stuck in this train, and the lingering stench of stale animal manure combined with the periodic shaking of the car was more than enough to make the boy nauseous.

He slowly slid down to the floor searching for some for of relief, legs aching for rest after the prolonged period of standing. It made him feel less vulnerable, standing. Treech didn’t have the faintest clue as to why, maybe it was his height that he felt gave him an advantage. Whatever the reason, whenever he had felt intimidated or threatened he usually found himself refusing to rest for hours on end, not realizing the toll it took on his body until he finally sat down. The air in the car was thick and humid and Treech soon found himself shifting to remove his wool coat, before remembering was this car was previously used for. He would rather suffer the sweltering heat than ruin what could very well be his only form of protection.

Protection.

A scoff escaped his mouth before he could stop it, causing Lamina to look up from where she had buried her face into her knees, hiding in the corner of the car. Her auburn hair was beginning to frizz and tears stained her cheeks as they spilled from her puffy eyes. She was young, at only fifteen she was too young to be condemned to this.

They all were.

The pair had known each other back home. Lamina often babysitting Treech’s younger sister, Hazel when him and his pa were working in the forests and his ma was running errands. The ginger girl had always been quite timid, only exchanging a few brief words every now and then with him, and even then her voice always remained soft and gentle, barely above a whisper. Hazel adored her though, always returning home from their escapades with friendship bracelets adorning her wrists and flower crowns in her golden hair. And Treech loved nothing more than to see his baby sister happy. He had always held a soft spot in his heart for all the women in his life, Hazel, his ma, even Lamina had grown to be a surrogate little sister in his eyes. Which was why it was devastating to hear her name echoed out during the Reapings. He remembered how she had failed to hold back her tears as she was marched onto the rickety wooden platform, peacekeepers unnecessarily close to the poor girl only scaring her further. He had been so caught up in his immediate dread at Lamina’s named being picked that he barely noticed that the boy’s name was being selected.

“Treech Laurier.”

Shock couldn’t even begin to describe how he felt in those first few moments. He was eighteen and as it was his last year in the Reapings, Treech hadn’t thought himself as likely to be picked. An eerie silence fell across the male enclosure as his classmates and neighbors turned to face him, all wearing identical pitying faces. Realizing that peacekeepers would approach if he didn’t start moving, he maneuvered through the rows of teen boys and into the aisle of the town square. He felt a gloved hand push into his back, a peacekeeper, incase he decided to make a run for it. But Treech did none of that, slowly marching towards the platform where Lamina and the mayor stood, it took everything in him to keep the tears from escaping his eyes as he turned to see cameras pointed at him from every angle. Like a fucking animal. He ascended the stairs of the platform, eyes casted on the ground and the mayor mumbled out a quick speech, only glancing up once prompted to shake Lamina’s hand. As he peered into the already swollen eyes of the young girl, Treech knew he would do anything in his power to protect her, even if it came at his own demise. However as he was coming to peace with this newfound promise, peacekeepers tugged at their arms dragging them away from the crowds of citizens just as quickly as they were reaped. The District seven pair were then escorted out of the town square, two peacekeepers crowding both of them on either side. Treech finally allowed the tears to flow from his eyes no longer caring if he appeared weak, and after a few minutes of trudging along the dirts roads of their district, they came to a dilapidated train, the tracks it stood on rusted over from a year of no use. The peacekeepers ushered the pair into one of the cars, nudging the butts of their rifles into their backs as they did so. The metal door slammed behind the two and before their eyes could adjust to the sudden darkness, they were moving, albeit rather slowly. The first few hours were torture, Lamina’s sobs only further cementing the realization of their likely imminent deaths, nearly bringing the older boy to tears for the second time that day. Eventually Lamina’s sobs and shaky breaths died down to whimpers and moans, and as he stood against the metal wall, Treech racked his brain for anything, any memory or thought that would draw his attention away from the train car, and the Hunger Games, and the poor miserable girl sitting a few feet away from him. So he started listing things, at first mumbling the names of his family members under his breath, each murmur bringing a new fond memory to the boy’s head. It didn’t take long for this list to extend to his friends, boys he had grown up with and laughed alongside during the long work days in the forests; subsequently places entered the whispered mantra, his secret spot in the woods down by the lake, his house, even his old school. Nearly two hours went by like this as Treech carried on with this spiraling list, continuing to name everything and everyone he wanted to come back to when a high pitched whistling, followed by a screech that of metal on metal shook the boys out of his thoughts.

They were coming to a stop.

Treech was quick to stand up, not wanting to be caught in a vulnerable position when the doors opened. He could hear people from outside on the platform, peacekeepers barking orders and tributes groaning as they disembarked, disoriented and confused. He pressed his ear against the metal of the car, attempting to survey his surroundings without actually seeing them. But beyond the booming commands of soldiers and the trembling voices of young tributes, he also heard a girl too. She couldn’t have stood too far away from his car, and her voice didn’t carry any hints of fear or aggression, so she didn’t fall into the two categories of people he had listened to previously. From what the tall boy could make out, she seemed to be having a friendly chat with someone a few feet away from the train. It was beyond Treech who she would feel comfortable enough to talk with like that, the peacekeepers back home weren’t notorious for being welcoming, and although he hadn’t met any of the other tributes yet, he doubted any of them would be in the mood to carry a lighthearted conversation. As the voice gradually got closer and closer, Treech found himself listening for it more and more, disregarding his previous mission of ease dropping on the people outside in favor of tracking the captivating sound.

Her voice sounded like sunshine.

Too busy being drawn in by the captivating words, Treech barely had time to register the metal door of the car screeching open as he fell into the wall, nearly falling directly out onto the platform. He brought his hands to his forehead, groaning at the collision that was sure to leave a bruise. He turned away from the wall and towards Lamina, who had started to peer out into the train station before swiftly retracting her head. She was too scared to go first, and she was definitely more likely to hurt herself on the jump down, with the entrance to the train car being around five feet above the platform. Big brother instincts taking over, Treech quickly made his way over to the now open doorway, eyes roaming across the vast train station—he was listen for or rather looking for the girl with the enchanting voice. Failing to see anyone who could’ve possibly been his mystery girl, he heaved himself onto the platform. He then turned back to face Lamina, offering her his hand, trying to convince the younger girl to trust him enough to exit the shadows of the car and to jump onto the platform. After a few seconds passed the redheaded girl emerged from the corner of the train, meekly taking his hand in her own as she hopped onto the platform, falling into his chest as she did so. Treech let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the stench free, albeit polluted air. Lamina seemed to be more at ease too, her sniffles becoming fewer and farther between as she took in her surroundings; fear slowly melting from her face as she caught glimpse of the other younger tributes, some even younger than her. However that all came crashing down when something or someone startled the girl enough to shrink away into the material of his jacket, a small petrified whimper escaping her lips.

Lamina cowered behind him, her frail hands clutching onto his coat as she peered from behind his back. For a split second, Treech became concerned that a fight had broken out between the peacekeepers and tributes and quickly moved closer to his partner in an attempt at protection, but when he turned around to see who was Frightening the young girl so badly, he found himself standing face to face with the owner of the enrapturing voice.

“Hi, You must be Treech! i’m Y/N, your mentor!”

A/N

IM SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES. IVE BEEN STUDYING FOR EXAMS ALL WEEK AND THIS HONESTLY SLIPPED MY MIND. I PROMISE TO BE BACK ON THE GRIND. And I know this is really short, but as I continue to write this story I wanted to create small filler chapters where you get to learn more about Treech and his relationships with everyone bc I feel like that really isnt showcased in a lot of fics. Chapter seven is in the works right now and i’ll have is released by Friday!!!

XOXO

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; V Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 2.67k

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead @valdezsttuff @nekee-lilac02 @shykittycat @aceofspades190 @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @lostmoongoddess24 @nothing2113

🎬Mood boards🎬

You could’ve sworn your spine was broken

A groan of pain escape your mouth as you landed flat on your back, sandwiched between the solid dirt floor and whatever boy had landed on top of you. Similar moans could be heard from the others sprawled around you, with most people suffering from disorientation as well as the sudden adjustment to bright light after a prolonged period in the darkness of the van.

You attempted to sit up, albeit unsuccessfully as the person who had landed on you had yet to shift their weight off of you. Freeing your right hand from the tangle of tributes, you gently nudged their shoulder, fingers coming into contact with the soft wool of a jacket. Unfortunately this effort only produced a pained murmur from the boy as he rolled slightly off of you, yet it was not enough to allow movement on your part. Quickly growing irritated by the restriction of oxygen, you drove your knee into his back, using both hands to push the boy up off your chest.

“Watch it Sunshine.”

You instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Treech. A sigh of embarrassment leaves your lips at the realization; a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks at the physical proximity of the two of you, as well as the sudden nickname. You continue to shuffle underneath him, grumbling about how heavy he was, which managed to make the taller boy laugh. Finally, as the mess of tributes starts to untangle and take in their surroundings, Treech is able to stand up, relieving your body of the added pressure of his weight. After bringing himself to his feet he turns back around to face you, offering a calloused hand. Accepting his assistance, you take his hand in yours as you rise up off the ground. Only then did you realize where you were.

“The Zoo?”

Treech turns around to face his surroundings, a look of disgust painting his face as he noticed the crowds of Capitol citizens gawking at the tributes from behind metal bars. Most stayed a good distance away from the cage, as if they were scared the tributes would attack if they were to approach. The inside of the dome itself was unremarkable, save for the few trees and logs scattered across the ground, there wasn’t anything of use, including food and water. Just as you were noting the need to bring dinner for Treech and Lamina later in the day, you remembered the canvas bag you had brought with you to the train station. Turning away from the gaping mouths of the Capitol citizens—most of whom were shocked to not see one but two Academy students inside the cage, you searched the ground of the enclosure for your bag. You spotted it rather quickly, it had been with you when you were spilled out of the van and was lying where you had fallen. Scooping the bag up, you checked to see if the remaining food and water had been damaged. Thankfully, the vast majority of the food and drink remained unharmed, and would be able to be consumed by Treech and Lamina if you weren’t able to get back to them that day. You suspected that if word got to your parents of your little “field trip”, your grounding was sure to follow. However, as you caught a glimpse of Dill, who was currently in the midst of a coughing fit a few meters away from you, you were reminded of your original intention of offering food and drink to the rest of the tributes. You turned back to face Treech, who had found Lamina and taken a seat next to her on a nearby log.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to finish passing these out.” Holding up the bag to show the pair what you were referring to, you searched their bodies for injuries, getting the first good look at them since the fall, thankfully they both appeared to be unharmed. Although Lamina wasn’t technically your responsibility, you felt a sense of protectiveness over her and was equally as concerned over her wellbeing as Treech’s. Lamina gave you a soft smile, while Treech refused to make eye contact, more content to keep his focus trained on the audience that was growing outside of the enclosure. Rolling your own eyes at the boy’s constantly changing attitude towards you, you walked over to where the District eight tributes, Bobbin and Wovey were sitting. Wovey was one of the youngest tributes right next to Dill, she reminded you greatly of one of the young girls you used to babysit and like Lamina, you felt a great sense of protectiveness over her. Bobbin was a few years older with blonde hair that was almost as light at Coriolanus’s, he was missing his right arm starting at the elbow and you were curious as to if was from an accident in a textile factory. Being much older than both of the tributes, you felt much less intimidated when approaching them. Watching you advance, Bobbin wrapped his one good arm around Wovey, eyes tracking your movements as you got closer.

“Hi, are either of you two hungry?”

Wovey perked up at the unfamiliar voice and turned to face you, her almond eyes showing faint traces of tears. Her eyes dropped to scan the bag you held out a few feet in front of her, seemingly debating on whether or not you were a threat. After a few seconds of careful deliberation, Wovey deemed you safe to approach, sliding off the log she was sat on and grabbing the canvas bag. Unlike most of the younger tributes, Wovey didn’t wait for her partner’s permission to grab the treats, quickly snatching a sandwich and orange without any further hesitation. She passed the orange off to Bobbin, smiling at her new found treasures as the older boy began peeling the fruit for the two of them.

“Thank you, Miss!” Wovey angelic voice rang out as she hastily unwrapped the sandwich, sinking her teeth into the sourdough bread with a contented sigh. Bobbin, who had now finished peeling the orange, eyed the sandwich longingly yet made no move to approach the bag himself. Sensing the boy’s shyness, you reached in yourself, passing a second sandwich to the blonde boy. He gave you a grateful smile, unwrapping his sandwich and passing half of the peeled orange slices to his partner as you walked away.

Making your way towards the opposite end of the enclosure, you saw the girl from District nine, Sheaf performing what appeared to be acrobatics for the cluster of Capitol citizens who had gathered a few feet outside by the metal bars. Panlo, her district partner sat on a rock a few feet away, holding his head in his hands. The two shared a resemblance that under normal circumstances, would’ve led you to assume the pair were related. As Sheaf finished a series of back handsprings, you made your presence known to the pair.

“Would you guys like something to eat?”

Sheaf turned away from the Capitol crowd, holding a small pack of peanuts she had been gifted by a spectator for putting on a show. Panlo looked up from his spot on the rock, but didn’t show any signs of interest or fascination with the bag. Nonetheless, Sheaf walked over to where you stood, gently rummaging through the dwindling tote. She settled on a water bottle and an apple, giving you a short nod of appreciation, thankful she no longer had to perform to eat. She turned back around to face Panlo, curious to see if he would be taking food as well. When she was met with only a mop of chestnut curls nestled between between two hands, she sighed and dug through the bag once more to grab a second water bottle for her stubborn partner. The nimble girl walked back over to the rock, crouching beside the boy in an attempt to coax him out.

Realizing that the District ten pair were next of your list, you let out a groan. Not wanting to find out what move Tanner would pull next, you desperately searched the enclosure for anyone else you hadn’t offered food to yet. Luckily for you, Brandy, Tanner’s district partner was sat by the metal bars, quite some distance away from him. You made your way over to the girl. Her eyes were a nearly transparent blue, and she wore a patterned scarf in her auburn hair. Despite the thin layer of dirt that covered her clothes and her mouth being fixed into a scowl she was quite pretty. Clearing your throat to get the redhead’s attention, she twisted her head around to face you, the scowl on her face slightly softening.

“You want something to eat, Brandy?”

The girl quickly nodded, the grimace melting off her face as she used the palms of her hands to push herself up off the ground. Once standing, she gingerly took the canvas bag from your hands, occasionally looking back up at you as if she couldn’t believe what she was being offered. Eventually after a minute of searching through the now dirty material of the bag, she pulled out a piece of banana bread wrapped in tinfoil and a water bottle. Quickly stuffing the goodies into the pocket of her sweater, she offered you a somewhat sad smile as she handed your bag back to you. The poor girl wasn’t used to being shown kindness from Capitol citizens. Remembering that Arachne was her mentor, you hoped your classmate would have the decency to show up and provide for her tribute…

As you parted ways with Brandy, your eyes darted around the monkey house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dill or Reaper. Though after the events that took place in the van, you were silently dreading the imminent interaction between you and the latter. Spotting the pair proved to be an easier feat than expected, due to Dill’s continuous coughing fits, you could hear the young girl’s hacking from across the enclosure.

Despite their earlier spat in the van, Reaper sat protectively at Dill’s feet, a look of worry cast over his features as he helplessly watched his younger partner continue to cough. There were faint traces of dried blood at the corners of Dill’s mouth, leftovers from earlier fits. Rummaging through the remaining contents of your tote, you pulled out the largest water bottle you could find as well as a handkerchief with embroidered flowers along the perimeter from your dress pocket. As you got closer to the District eleven pair, Reaper took notice of your presence and straightened himself up, his concerned look being replaced with a glower at the sight of you.

“Didn’t learn any lessons from what I did to your little friend huh?”

While his treatment of Coriolanus had very much intimidated you, it hadn’t dissuaded you from attempting to help the pair, particularly Dill. However, instead of responding you placed the water bottle and handkerchief at his feet, not breaking eye contact as you did so.

“These should help with the coughing fits.”

Immediately understanding your intentions behind the gifts, he scooped the water bottle up and untwisted the cap, dabbing a bit of the water onto the handkerchief that he held in his other hand. He then handed the bottle over to Dill, who wasted no time gulping down the contents while Reaper used the now wet cloth to clean the dried blood from her mouth. Once he deemed Dill blood-free, he turned to face you, offering a thankful nod that let you know the two of you were on good terms.

Checking to see what was leftover in your bag, you saw only a single sandwich, two water bottles, and a handful of fruits left at the bottom. However this didn’t concern you as you only had the District twelve tributes left on your mental list, and you were near certain Coriolanus would ensure Lucy Gray was kept fed. You caught glimpse of the aforementioned boy and girl a few meters away towards the edge of the enclosure. They were speaking to Lucky Flickerman, a Capitol reporter, and upon further inspection, Coriolanus appeared to be holding the hand of Lucy Gray. Not wanting to interrupt whatever the two had going on, you set your sights of finding Jessup. Lyzzie had been assigned as his mentor and like Clemmie, she had been very pleased at the selection. After a few moments on scanning the area around you, you spotted the boy sitting under one of the few trees in the yard. He was tall, above average but still a bit shorter than Treech and Reaper, with a soft babyface that made him appear years younger than he actually was. Picking up your pace, you jogged over to where the boy stood, his eyes fixed on his partner and her mentor.

“Hi Jessup, would you like something to eat?”

The District twelve boy whipped his head around, startled by the sudden noise, but the panic melted from his face when he caught sight of you. He had been watching you when you were talking to Bobbin and Wovey, and was to ease knowing someone was ensuring the wellbeing of the younger tributes. Lucy Gray had also mentioned taking a liking to you after observing you at the train station greeting everyone at each cart, and she’d been looking forward to meeting you before she was pulled away by her own mentor. Jessup took the now rather light bag from your hands, debating over the contents before opting for the two water bottles and the sandwich. He handed the nearly empty tote back to you as he began to unwrap the tinfoil clad food. He patted the ground next to him with his hand, offering you a place to sit.

“As much as I would love to join you, I think Treech is beginning to wonder where I went. Tell Lucy Gray I said hi though, and that I quite enjoyed her performance.”

Jessup nodded, understanding your desire to get back to your tribute before you were inevitably swept away. Nevertheless, he smiled brightly as he bit into his sandwich, entirely grateful for the meal.

Walking away, you caught sight of the District seven pair only a couple meters away. You had practically made an entire circle around the monkey house and had ended up right where you initially started.

“Hey Red, miss me?”

Lamina looked up from where she had been sitting, smiling at the sight of her new friend. She quickly scooted down the log, making space for you to sit between her and Treech. You happily took the seat, much to Treech’s irritation, and emptied out the final contents of your canvas bag, offering an apple to the redheaded girl and a nectarine to Treech. Lamina grinned as she began tucking into her fruit, exhaling contentedly at the sweetness of the white flesh. Treech on the other hand, absently tossed his nectarine from one hand to the other, clearly uninterested in forming conversation with you. Taking notice of the boy’s subconscious actions, you let out a small suppressed laugh, which immediately garnered his attention.

“Something funny, Sunshine?”

You felt a familiar warmth creeping up onto your face at the repeating of the nickname.

“You didn’t tell me you could juggle, Lumberjack.”

Treech scoffed at the pet name, rolling his eyes. He looked like he was about to make a rebuttal when two peacekeepers approached you from either side. It was only then did you take notice to the fact that Coriolanus had already been apprehended by a second pair of peacekeepers, and was promptly being dragged out of the zoo much to his dismay. You felt one of the peacekeepers place his hand on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that told you it was time to leave.

“Stay out of trouble while i’m gone. I’ll be back later tonight with more food and blankets, I promise.” You snatched up your empty canvas bag as the second peacekeeper began tugging on your arm.

“I wasn’t concerned.” You could hear the disdain dripping from his words. Lamina punched his shoulder, unamused by his blatant rejection of you.

You were going to kill this boy before the games even begun.

A/N

Another chapter out!!!! 🎉🎉🎉 I’m so sorry I keep drawing scenes out but I can’t help but satisfy my urges to write subplots wherever I go. 😭 And what do we think of the nickname Sunshine, do we love it? Do we hate it? Also I’m thinking about doing a Treech POV chapter if y’all are interested. I hope you all have a good new year, and I will try to have chapter six up as soon as I can!! I love you all so much and genuinely appreciate every comment you leave. ❤️

XOXO

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; IV Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.71k

Warnings: Swearing, Violence

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead @valdezsttuff @nekee-lilac02 @shykittycat @aceofspades190

🎬Mood boards🎬

Let the record show that you went above and beyond as a mentor.

That was the first thought to pass through your mind as the heavy doors of the van were slammed shut by oblivious peacekeepers, trapping you and Coriolanus in a confined space with around a dozen tributes who wanted you dead.

You kept your eyes fixed at a point on the floor towards the opposite end of the van, scared of what—or rather who you would see if you lifted your gaze. Not that you would be able to blame them. Had you been in their position, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to seek revenge.

If Coriolanus was as unsettled as you were, he did a damn good job of hiding it. Straightening his posture, he brushed off the dust that had accumulated on his vermillion Academy uniform. While he may have had the confidence, he stuck out like a sore thumb and you were suddenly very grateful for having chosen against such a conspicuous outfit. Coming to the conclusion that you were just as safe, if not more safe than Coriolanus, due to having introduced yourself and offered food to several of the tributes you were currently riding with, you allowed your eyes to slowly lift from the dirty metal floor of the van. Unfortunately for you, the spot where you had previously been fixating at had been right where Treech was standing, with your eyes suddenly meeting as your gaze ascended from the floor. His arm was hanging onto the railing that ran along the length of the van, and his eyes bore into you the same way they had when you had slapped him minutes prior. Behind him you could see a little girl who you believed to be Wovey from District eight. Your few tedious moments of tension were broken by Coriolanus clearing his throat, an action that brought the rest of the tributes attention towards the two of you. If they hadn’t been staring already.

“Hi.” It was barely audible, but the echo of the van carried the single word and let it hang in anticipatory silence. Your face cringed at t he sound of if. Here you two were, a couple of rich Capitol kids who had waltzed into a vehicle with a bunch of exhausted kids who were being held like prisoners, and he was acting like it was some sort of field trip.

“What’s the matter, Pretty Boy? Got in the wrong cage?” The boy from District eleven, Reaper spoke up from where he stood at the opposite end of the van, next to Treech. Clemmie had been assigned as his mentor and had been more than pleased when it was announced, and you could see why. The boy was by far the biggest out of everyone in the van and stood well past six feet tall, with huge shoulders and a square jaw permanently shaped into a scowl, he was downright terrifying.

“No, not at all. This cage is delightful.” It was an awful attempt at clearing the tension, but you had to give your classmate credit for having the balls to make such a statement.

Reaper, however, didn’t appreciate the boy’s comment and suddenly lurched forward, making great strides across the van from where he formerly stood next to Treech. Before you knew it, the dark skinned boy had Coriolanus pressed up against the wall of the vehicle, his large hands fisting the material of his Academy coat.

The van suddenly came to life with action, with variously tributes egging on Reaper to kill Coriolanus. Exceptionally happy for the sudden opportunity to retaliate in the violence that was being imposed upon them.

“Get him Reaper!” You could hear a boy urging from somewhere behind you. Coriolanus’s formerly collected facade was quickly falling apart at the realization of his probable imminent death, his hands desperately reaching out in a feeble attempt to push the much larger boy off of him.

“I’ll kill you right now.” Reaper growled as he somehow managed to push Coriolanus further into the wall. You didn’t take Reaper as someone who was all bark and no bite, and was nearly certain he would go through with his threat if there was no immediate intervention.

“He’ll do it.” A raspy voice piped up from next to you—Dill, Reaper’s district partner. “He killed a peacekeeper back in eleven. They never found out who did it.” The young girl smirked a bit after the past comment, before a cough came over her and she was sent into a fit.

“Quiet Dill.” Reaper turned around only long enough to reprimand the younger girl, but his scolding had already brought all eyes towards Dill, which subsequently brought attention to you.

“Looks like Pretty Boy came with a friend.” Tanner, the boy from District ten, whistled out. He was Domitia’s tribute, and you had been severely disturbed by his reaping, where his hands had been shown to be bloody from what you hoped was a morning at the slaughterhouse. While now there was only faint traces of blood buried underneath his fingernails, the taller boy still wore a particularly wicked grin on his face as he slowly approached you, eyes never leaving yours. You subconsciously took a few steps back, your body now flush against the cold metal wall alongside Coriolanus. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in here?” Tanner’s question might have been phrased more nicely than Reaper’s, but it was still laced with the same tone of anger and vengeance. Your petrified eyes left Tanner’s unnerving gaze, and you peered over his shoulder, to shaken to answer the District ten boy. Treech’s eyes were also fixed on you, but in a way that was much more contemplative and pensive, as if he was debating on whether or not he should intervene. However, much to your shock it wasn’t Treech nor Coriolanus who came to your rescue. It was Lamina.

The sullen girl had slipped from her spot beside Treech without anyone noticing and moved to stand between you and Tanner, acting as a barrier to protect you despite her obvious shaking. Lucy Gray also made herself known, appearing from her spot deep in the van to approach Reaper, a silence falling over the riled up tributes as the girl spoke up.

“You got family back home?” The question was obviously intended for Reaper and Tanner, but she looked around the van as if her question was pointed towards all of them.

“They’ll kill them if you hurt either of them, and then they’ll kill you.” Lucy Gray spoke as if it were obvious, and the realization seemed to set in on the two boys and they thankfully backed away towards their respective district partners. Lamina let out a sigh of relief, her hands still shaking in little balled fists. You were in awe at her bravery, not only for confronting a much larger tribute, but also that she did it for you, someone who was virtually a stranger.

“Besides, I might need him, being my mentor and all.” The last part caused Coriolanus’s gaze to immediately shift to Lucy Gray, as if he was shocked that she was coming to his defense.

“Mender? How come you get a mender?” A girl with a bright red bob, Coral, interrogated from her corner of the van.

“A mentor.” Coriolanus corrected, he was always a stickler when it came to grammar and pronunciation. Something that could annoy you to no end when he went of his rants during class. “Each of you get one, to help guide you throughout the games.”

“And were supposed to trust you on that?” Coral retorted, unimpressed with the boy’s answer. “Why does Little Miss Rainbow get special treatment?” The redheaded girl pointed an accusatory finger at Lucy Gray, as if she was responsible for her mentor’s shortcomings. You made a mental reminder to warn Festus, Coral’s mentor, on how much of a firecracker she was before he could meet her for himself. You were near certain he would pleased though, feisty types tended to fare well in the games. Getting her to entertain the Capitol however, would be a different battle.

“She doesn’t get special treatment, you all have mentors.” Coriolanus reiterated, clearly still on edge from his close encounter with Reaper. “Then why aren’t they here?” This time Bobbin, a boy from District eight spoke up, clearly interested in the prospect of having a mentor.

“Just not inspired, I guess.” Lucy Gray added, a smirk forming on her face. She must’ve known her performance at the Reapings had garnered her mentor’s attention. You felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. Little did she know that only a few moments before her singing, Coriolanus had already given up any hope of her winning.

“Who does she belong to?” Tanner inquired, although he had backed a few feet away, his stare had never broken away from you. He slightly licked his lips which was already enough to make you shudder. What was his deal?

“Back of ten.” Your eyes suddenly moved towards the voice, landing on the tall frame of Treech, who had let go of his railing and was moving closer towards Tanner. “You got lucky Lumberjack, I’m honestly a bit jeal-”

Tanner didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew it, the van jerked, knocking everyone to the ground in a wave on shock and confusion. Lamina landed on top of you, which surprisingly didn’t hurt due to her being much smaller. She quickly moved off of you with a soft apology as everyone tried to regain their balance. However, another lurch sent everyone tumbling onto the floor once again. This time you landed next to Treech, your head falling against his chest as the floor started sloping, sending the piles of tributes and mentors into the metal doors with a slam. You tried to raise your head from Treech’s chest to get a grasp as to what was happening, but his arm reached out to wrap around you, holding you in place against his body. Before you could fight against him the metal doors of the van suddenly jutted open, dumping everyone out, and sending them falling towards the ground below.

A/N

We are Lamina stans here!!! Love to see Treech’s protectiveness as well, so stay prepared for that in coming chapters! Hopefully I will be able to post another chapter in the next day or two!

XOXO

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; III Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Slapping

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead

🎬Mood boards🎬

You were really starting to regret showing up.

Holding out your hand for the taller boy to shake, you hadn’t expected a warm reception or even a polite acknowledgment. After all, your people were the reason he was in this awful situation to begin with. However, these doubts weren’t going to deter you from making an effort.

So when Treech made no move to shake your hand you tried to not take it personally. A feat that became exceptionally harder as you glanced over towards the District twelve cart where you saw how well Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were getting on.

Your gaze drifted back towards your tribute’s, who had failed to take his eyes off of yours since you had made your presence known. Cold, calculating eyes studying you, as if you were his prey that he was in the middle of stalking. His stare didn’t hold any anger per say, but rather mistrust and suspicion. Something you had seen when first approaching many of the other tributes you had previously offered food to.

Gradually becoming more uncomfortable by the growing tension, you decided to offer the District seven pair food from your canvas bag in an attempt to diminish some of their skepticism—or rather Treech’s skepticism and Lamina’s outright terror. Shifting your bag off of your shoulder, you held the tote out towards the two.

“Would either of you like some food or water?”

You gave the pair a soft smile, praying they wouldn’t let their hesitancy prevent them from taking what was most likely their first meal in days. You were overjoyed when Lamina took a step forward out from behind Treech and towards the bag, her vibrant red hair glittering as she entered the sunlight. Yet your hopes were once again squashed as Treech held out his arm to prevent the younger girl from moving closer towards you. His umber brown eyes never once leaving your gaze.

“Don’t.”

His voice broke the ever growing silence, this being the first thing he had said to you throughout your short interaction. You weren’t sure if he was ordering Lamina to not come towards you, or rather demanding of you to step away from them. No matter his intention, Lamina shrunk away from the bag, despite her eyes showing an obvious temptation to go against the older boy and pursue the food she so desperately needed. While you wouldn’t force any of tributes to take anything from you, you wouldn’t deny the frightened girl food even if her district partner didn’t approve. So reaching into the canvas to pull out a water bottle and a persimmon, you held the offerings out towards the girl who’s eyes seemed to widen at the sight of the drink and fruit. However she still appeared to be to scared to take the food from you while the disapproval of Treech loomed over her.

“It’s okay Lamina, these are for you.”

This time Lamina didn’t wait for Treech to stop her and quickly scampered towards your hands to collect her treats, giving a final glance into your eyes as if she was scared you would pull the food away at the last second. However, after you offered a gentle smile and a small nod, the last of her worries were put to rest and she quickly snatched up the fruit and bottle. You involuntarily shivered as her cold hands brushed against your own, not failing to notice the dirt that caked the inside of her nails from long days of working in the forests back home. You suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the girl and a desperation to help her stay alive, when you were reminded of the tribute you could in fact save-who also happened to be standing right in front of you. Taking your eyes off Lamina, who was currently peeling her persimmon, you brought your gaze back up towards the taller boy.

And oh fuck was he pissed.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?”

Treech was clearly infuriated by your persistence in talking to the two of them—which was largely due to your inherent stubbornness, as well as Lamina’s approaching of you, even after he deemed you untrustworthy. The stare that once held only skepticism and wariness, now contained a multitude of resentment and irritation. You were just about to start fearing for your safety when a piercing whistle broke through the air.

“All tributes into the van, now!”

Peacekeepers began marching over towards District seven pair, and you saw this as your cue to make your way down to the other districts you hadn’t reached yet to offer them food and drink as well. Remembering the little girls who couldn’t have been older than twelve that you had seen during the Reapings, you felt especially desperate to make sure they were hydrated and well fed. However, as you attempted to move around the pair you had previously been standing with, you felt a strong hand suddenly grab onto your arm, sending you stumbling backwards into a solid chest.

Twisting around to meet your assailant, you sent your hand flying across the face of who you assumed was a peacekeeper. Unfortunately to your horror the groans you heard upon impact did not belong to a grown man, but rather a teenage boy. Now mortified at the knowledge that you had just slapped your tribute-who’s safety you were responsible for, you sheepishly brought your gaze up towards Treech, who was rubbing his own hand against his cheek, clearly more shocked than angered at you hitting him.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You were taken aback by his words. Not only for the fact that his voice had lost the sharp edge it previously held, but also that he cared more about you answering what you had assumed was a rhetorical question, than you striking him across the face. You felt your face heat up as you gazed into his still hard set eyes, unsure of how to answer his question, you had already informed him that you were his mentor.

luckily for you, your embarrassment was cut short by a peacekeeper pulling on Treech’s shoulder and yanking him towards a van that was parked on the opposite side of the train station. The taller boy tried to fight against the armed man, but his attempts were quickly shut down by a gun being nudged into his back. Treech spared one last look towards you as he was marched off towards the van, witnessing a slight scowl on his face as he eventually left your range of sight. Lamina, who you hadn’t noticed had already left, was waiting for him by the doors. Next to her was Lucy Gray and who you assumed was her district partner, Jessup.

You shifted your canvas bag back onto your shoulder, disappointed that you weren’t able to meet the rest of the tributes from the lower districts, who were currently being rounded up. The number of peacekeepers eventually dwindled as the last of the tributes were shoveled into the van, and you were just about to turn around and head for the exit when a flash of vibrant red clothing caught your eye.

Coriolanus was sneaking into the van with the tributes.

You wouldn’t usually think of yourself as an impulsive person, however something in your gut told you to follow your classmate. If not for your own curiosity than his safety. So watching diligently to ensure the remaining few peacekeepers’ attention was diverted, you swiftly made your way across the train station and hauled yourself into the now cramped vehicle.

You regretted your decision almost immediately.

A/N

So sorry for the short chapter and lack of updates this week as i’ve been sick, however more chapters are definitely on the way and i’m really excited to start building the relationship between Treech and our mc! I promise my posting schedule will start to be more often and consistent, please bare with me and thank you so much for your kind words and comments 😊

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

omg so sorry for not posting yesterday, I ended up contracting norovirus from my work and was throwing up all afternoon and night. Im feeling much better now and will be posting chapter three today!

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; II Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem

You had no reason to be this nervous.

That’s what you tried to convince yourself as you added the finishing touches to your outfit-a pair of teardrop shaped garnet earrings and an array of silver rings. You brought your hands down to smooth out your olive green dress, opting against wearing the flashy uniforms of the Academy.

The train carrying the tributes was due to arrive at the station in just under an hour, yet you had failed to get yourself to leave the comfort of your apartment. You wrote it off as being a perfectionist and wanting to make sure you embodied the glamour that was the Capitol. But you knew the truth deep down…

You were terrified.

Despite your outwardly confident and bold persona, you had always chased validation from anyone who would give it to you. After you had started expressing your distaste for the Capitol’s vision of the Hunger Games, your parents had almost seemed to forget you existed. Preferring to ignore you than to come to terms with the fact that their daughter was a district sympathizer.

So as you touched up your eyeliner, you started brainstorming ways you could win over Treech’s trust. You knew he wasn’t going to be pleased to have to talk to any Capitol citizen, especially after what you saw of him during the Reapings. The resentment, the bitterness, the disgust.

However Treech hadn’t been the only person who garnered your interest. The girl from District 12, Lucy Gray had put on a spectacular performance following her reaping. Despite her misfortune, she had shown an impressive amount of spunk and moxie. Something that immediately made you gain respect for the younger girl. Coriolanus, who had originally been displeased at being selected as her mentor, had reveled in the attention his tribute gathered, which had transferred over to him. That was the thing about Coriolanus, he loved people who benefited him. You could tell from the mere way he pretended to tolerate Sejanus’s presence. Tight lipped smiles and strained conversation, Snow wasn’t always the most discreet about his true feelings. No matter how many times the district boy tried to convince you of Coriolanus, your opinion hadn’t been swayed. You knew that deep down, the blonde had a small hope of working his way into Mr. Plinth’s good graces through Sejanus. He was a leech, as your grandmother would’ve said.

Gathering your canvas bag—which was filled to the brim with chicken salad sandwiches, water bottles, various fruits you had gathered from your kitchen, and freshly baked pastries, you made your way to the front door. Although you were only given the task of taking care of one tribute, it felt inhumane to only bring food for Treech. After hearing how some of your classmates reacted to their “unlucky picks”, you knew some—if not most of them wouldn’t bother to show up.

The walk to the train station helped to settle some of your anxieties. You adored the outdoors, and wished the Capitol had spared some of their natural forests and mountains instead of urbanizing every square foot of land they could take. The land that had remained untouched however, had been combed over by you, memorizing every blade of grass and every species of bird you came across. Many mornings where you allowed yourself to skip class had been spent taking nature walks with Sejanus, and even Clemmie and Lysistrata when they gave in to your pleading.

Despite your “radical ideals”, you still took pleasure in the company of several of your fellow peers. Before Sejanus moved to the Capitol, you, Lyzzie, and Clemmie had formed an unofficial friend group, spending your school days before the war weaving flower crowns and hosting elegant tea parties. Even now the three of you took care to ensure the longevity of your sisterhood, organizing girls’ days where you binged outlawed romcoms and ordered from whatever takeout sounded the most appetizing. This wasn’t to say they were your only friends, you and Diana were both fond of atronomy, and partnered with each other whenever the topic arose during class. And Festus had been known to forge late slips for you after one of your morning excursions, in exchange for some of your homeade sweets. Even Arachne, as stuck up and anti-district as she was, held a significant amount of respect for you, which you reciprocated. Both of you admired the other’s bluntness and unwavering loyalty to their respective opinions.

Your blissful reflection of your youth was interrupted by a rather grim thought, or rather a reality check. Twenty three kids were going to die. And while you had the privilege to lose yourself in your imagination of the freedom and opportunity you would be granted once you graduated from the academy, you had spared barely a single thought to the pour souls you were about to come face-to-face with. The weight of your bag pulling down on your shoulder eased some of your guilt. You couldn’t save them, but you could ensure they were well taken care of until the bitter end.

As you approached the entrance to the train station, you caught glimpse of a bright vermillion coat. The same coat you had chosen to bury deep in your wardrobe, in favor of a more approachable summer dress. Suddenly refreshed from the excitement of meeting another student, your pace picked up and you rushed around the corner to see which of your peers had had a similar idea to yours. Though to your dismay, you were greeted by the out of breath face of none other than Coriolanus Snow. He gripped a white rose firmly in his hand, his Academy uniform sticking out like a sore thumb against the muted colors of the train station. The peculiar color of the rose indicated he must’ve convinced his grandmother or ‘Grandma’am’ as he and Tigris affectionately referred to her as, to pluck one of her precious roses from her rooftop garden.

While you weren’t a fan of Coriolanus himself, the feeling didn’t extend to the rest of the Snow family. Tigris, his cousin was a stylist—though a heavily taken advantage one, at the boutique you often frequented with Clemmie and Lyzzie on your girls’ trips. The older cousin possessed a sweet and docile demeanor that made you instantly fond of her, often stopping by at the boutique for minor readjustments that you could’ve easily fixed on your own, just for the opportunity to converse with the tall blonde. You learned a lot about the Snow family from these visits; from Coriolanus’s childhood nickname, Coryo—which you found to be endearing despite his character, to the financial struggles they had burdened since they were both orphaned during the war. These small glimpses into the boy’s life had slightly altered the way you saw him. While you would never be able to trust the boy or let alone build a rapport with him, you sympathized with his struggles and hardships.

Lifting your gaze from your bulky canvas bag to the blonde boy standing in front of you, you offered him a gentle smile. Maybe he was maturing after all. Nobody else had bothered to show up for their tribute, not even Sejanus, thought that was most likely due to the dread of having to come face-to-face with a former classmate who viewed him as a traitor.

Coriolanus returned your gesture, though a bit more forced and strained on his part. His eyes were darting back and forth all around the train station, most likely looking for the train that would be pulling in any second now carrying the tributes.

Carrying Treech.

Your quickly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing. You turned to face Coriolanus, who looked as if he was about to speak to you, when the deafening sound of a train horn sounded from down at the end of one of the tunnels.

It was now or never.

Quickly making your way towards the edge of the tracks where the train was currently pulling in, you shuffled your canvas bag from one shoulder to the other. Suddenly quite fearful of the interactions that were about to take place. You hadn’t thought of if they had food allergies or not?? What if one of them was vegetarian?? Could you afford to be vegetarian in the districts?? Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a great fume of smoke erupted from the front of the train, the grand locomotive coming to a complete stop just feet in front of you. Snow wasted no time maneuvering around you and making his way to the back of the train cars, where Lucy Gray was bound to get off. You however, stayed where you were, rocking on the heels of your mary janes as you waited for the tributes from District one to disembark. You had managed to snag a sheet off of Dean Highbottom that contained a list of all the tributes names and their respective districts when he was to intoxicated to notice. A quick glance at your cheat sheet reassured your slight qualms over forgetting their names, Facet and Velvereen.

After a brief few moments of anticipation, the doors of the car flew open and two dirty sickly looking teenagers in matching white cardigans hobbled onto the platform. Facet going first and turning around to offer his assistance to Velvereen, a gesture which she gladly accepted. This small act of chivalry seemed to restore your confidence, and before you could think, your feet were moving towards the pair. A determined smile creeping up onto your face.

“Hi! Are either of you two hungry?”

The pair quickly spun around, eyes wide and startled as if they were frightened by the mere sound of your voice. Getting a good look at their faces for the first time, they looked quite different than the grainy images you had seen from a distance in the Academy. Facet’s golden hair was matted after days of travel, and Velvereen’s heart shaped face was rounded with a softness that made appear to be much younger than she actually was.

Sliding the canvas bag off your shoulder, you held out the bag for them. Offering the goodies and an encouraging smile.

Facet was the first to reach in, hesitantly pulling out a cherry danish before ultimately backing away. After catching a glimpse of the sweets her partner had pulled out, she deemed you safe enough to approach and reached in to grab two water bottles. A peacekeeper then approached, ushering the two to keep moving across the station. They were quick to scatter off, but not before Velvereen sent a soft smile your way.

Making your way down to the next train car, you were met by Marcus and his district partner, Sabyn, both looking weary and confused as they hopped onto the platform.

“Sandwiches? Water?” You offered, slightly intimidated by Marcus’s muscular stature. Sabyn didn’t seem to hold any of the hesitation the pair from District one had, and quickly reached in to grab two sandwiches and a brownie wrapped in tinfoil. She passed one of the sandwiches off to Marcus, and while he eyed you from where he stood, he quickly scarfed the sandwich without a complaint. Sabyn took her time, gently unwrapping the warm brownie from the tinfoil, almost as if she was scared it would disappear if she moved too fast. Once unwrapped, she too quickly ate her food, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips as her hand went towards the bag for a second. However, just as her hand grazed the canvas material, she seemed to recoil as if the bag was burning to the touch.

“It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to take a second.” You were beyond relieved that you were able to provide some sort of comfort after what appeared to be an exhausting journey. Meekly, Sabyn allowed herself to reach back into the bag, this time pulling out a slice of carrot cake. She quickly stowed the sandwich and baked good in her pocket before turning to Marcus, waiting to see if he would take anything. He shook his head, already paranoid at the vulnerability they were displaying to this stranger. Sabyn seemed disappointed by his reluctance but still gave a polite thank you before turning back to walk towards her partner.

Time seemed to fly as you made your way down the cars, stopping at each one to offer your depleting bag. The pair from District three seemed skeptical, but in the end the boy, Circ took a water bottle before the two were pulled away by peacekeepers. Coral from District four was put on defense as soon as you approached, but backed down when she saw how weary her district partner, Mizzen looked. The boy who couldn’t have been older than thirteen, shot out towards the bag after Coral gave him a nod of approval, ultimately grabbing a sandwich and chocolate chip cookie which seemed to intrigue him greatly. Coral gave a curt but polite thank you as she protectively led the now buzzing boy away. Hy and Sol from District five were too dehydrated to be cautious of the welcoming stranger before them, and immediately pulled out two water bottles which they proceeded to down in a few desperate gulps. You smiled at their eagerness and pulled out a few berry danishes, offering them to Hy who had finished his water first and was now wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty jacket. He gave a quick glance to Sol, who nodded encouragingly to him. He gingerly took the pastries, offering a dimpled smile before he and Sol were ushered across the platform. You moved down to the car which contained the pair from District six, Otto and Ginnee. While both appeared to be dehydrated and emaciated, they ultimately refused anything from the canvas bag, scattering off after being startled by a peacekeeper yelling a few meters away from the three of them. Shifting the bag back onto your shoulder, you made your way down to the next car, coming to a halt as you realized who you would be met by…

The doors to the car banged open, and a teary eyed girl you recognized as Lamina appeared in the shadows. The sight of you sent a small whimper to escape from her lips and the redhead quickly vanished back into the shadows as another face emerged.

Treech looked to be almost a completely different person than the one you remembered from the Reapings. His eyes no longer wide and fearful, but rather sharp and observant. His dark curls were still hidden underneath the worn out hat, and his well defined jawline twitched as he looked out across the station, not paying any particular attention to you. After a brief scanning he hopped down onto the platform, turning around to offer his hand to Lamina in a similar fashion to that of Facet. Lamina gingerly took his hand slightly stumbling off onto the platform as she braced herself against Treech’s shoulders. Now deciding that this would be the time to introduce yourself as his mentor, you cleared your throat before approaching the pair.

Lamina who had already noticed you, cowered behind Treech, very much still on edge from the Reapings as well as the train ride. Confused at Lamina’s sudden fright, Treech turned to see what had scared her, and was slightly shocked to see that it was not a peacekeeper or another tribute, but rather a girl.

“Hi, You must be Treech! i’m Y/N, your mentor!”

A/N

Sorry there isn’t as much Treech content this chapter as y’all probably wanted 😭. I don’t want to rush this series and want to spend the first few chapters really building the MC’s background. The good news is that my classes are dying down for winter break and i’ll be posting A LOT in the coming weeks, might even post a third chapter tomorrow 😌.

Would you guys like me to make a playlist to go along with this? Or mood boards?

xoxo

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

Y’all, I promise i’m gonna get part II out as soon as possible! I just have to finish a paper for AP Seminar and i’ll get right to it! If it’s not out by Thursday night feel free to send the FBI out after me 😭

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.55k

Warnings: None

“You alright, DuPont?”

You was snapped out of your thoughts as Clemensia entered the bathroom you were currently brooding in. Her eyes were fixed on the rim of the sink you were currently stood over, glossy red nails digging into the sleek marble. It was reaping day, and unlike most of your peers, the games didn’t elicit boredom or disinterest. They evoked anger.

As much as your parents wanted to believe they had raised a Capitol sweetheart, you were as passionate about the cruelty of the Hunger Games as your dear friend Sejanus, maybe even more at times. You had cried yourself to sleep the first year the games were broadcasted out of sheer disgust and heartache, not being able to stomach the sight of all the gore and death. From that day forward, you had spent every reaping day locked away in your room, silently mourning children you would never be able to save. This year however, you and a handful of your fellow classmates had been asked personally by the Dean to make an appearance at the school’s broadcast of the reapings. Most had quickly came to the conclusion that the annual winner of the Plinth Prize, a hefty sum of money that Sejanus’s father annually awarded to the highest performing student, was going to be announced. The prize money failed to excite you as well. While you were one of the top scoring students of your class, you had more than enough money to put you and half of the student body through University. You assumed however, Coriolanus, another one of your classmates, would be eyeing that award.

You turned to face Clemensia, who had grown worried by your prolonged silence, Opting to stare aimlessly into the gold rimmed mirror instead of answering her. Your hands released the cool stone of the sink, and instead twisted together and wrung out, as if there was an invisible towel in your hands. Lips pursing together, attempting to force some form of a smile.

“Never better Clemmie!”

Your eyes grazed over the clusters of people as you entered the main hall. Clemensia had split off from you to go join Coriolanus and Festus Creed, who were having what appeared to be a rather one-sided conversation. Across from them you could see Dean Casca Highbottom trying to not-so-subtly intoxicate himself with morphling drops. Despite him being the creator of the Hunger Games, you were shocked he was still allowed to make public appearances, let alone give speeches. Your eyes finally landed on Sejanus, who was standing off in one of the corners of the room, a scowl prominent on his face.

“Sejanus!” You called to him, as you made your way over to where he was standing, being careful to not let your velvety black dress get snagged on anything as you weaved between students and staff members.

“Ms. DuPont, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice dripping with over sophisticated sarcasm as you approached. What was likely his first smile of the day creeping onto his tan face.

“How are you holding up?” Your voice lowering down to what was just below a whisper. Unlike you, Sejanus was born in the districts, only moving to the Capitol after his father made a risky bet, siding against the district rebels during the war. As a reward, the Capitol offered him and his family a place in the city, with an income that put even yours to shame. Although he was only eight when he left, part of Sejanus had always resented his father for making him and his Ma leave District two. Here he was ostracized by the majority of his peers, and merely tolerated by the rest. The reapings were just another reminder of another thing he had lost when he left. His sense of belonging.

“I don’t understand…” The boy’s former smile was quickly replaced by a grimace. “How can they all act so nonchalant about all this?? Like this is just any other day?”

You knew deep down he was feeling guilty, for the money he had, the immunity he was granted, all of it. While he was safe in the Capitol, all his former classmates from district two were at risk of being selected as tribute, most of whom were even at their young age dropping out of school to work, just to support their families. You wanted to comfort the boy more than anything, to tell him he wasn’t alone and that you understood the agony he was going through. But the words refused to leave your mouth, already choked up at the sight of your friend in front of you. Instead you chose to gently place a hand on his shoulder, tracing the intricate detailing of his suit as you tried to collect yourself, so you would be able to console the compassionate boy. “It’s going to be fine Sejanus, we’ll figure out wh-”

Your attempts at comforting the boy were cut short by the sound of a throat clearing at the front of the hall. Dean Highbottom had taken his place in front of a large wooden podium, where a woman with graying hair and cold dead eyes stood. A shiver was sent down your spine as you caught a glimpse of them, the one milky white eye contrasting against the electric blue one. The woman had a sinister aura and you could feel yourself backing away out of instinct. On either side of her TVs displayed the beginnings of the reapings, cameras giving brief flashes of each of the twelve districts, where children were standing in fenced off sections. Your heart sank as the grainy footage showed a cluster of twelve year old girls from what you believed to be district eleven. All wide eyes and jerky movements, this was the first year that they were at risk of being reaped.

“I’m assuming you all are waiting for news of the Plinth Prize?” The Dean was clearly more than just a little inebriated by the sound of it, yet his words inspired an excited buzz to fill the hall, with many of your fellow peers speculating on who would be this year’s recipient.

“I’m here to inform you that the prize will work a little differently this year.” Highbottom’s voice echoed off the walls as an anticipatory silence fell over the crowd.

“Twenty four of the top accomplished students will each receive a tribute that is reaped today, to mentor and guide throughout the games. Whichever mentor gets their tribute to…perform the best, will receive the prize. Winning will be taken into consideration, but will not be the deciding factor.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You turned to face Sejanus to see if he was in as much shock as you were. How were a group of capitol kids who had no experience whatsoever with fighting or survival skills supposed to “guide” their tributes?? Considering what the Capitol was forcing them to do, you would be surprised if any of them would even speak to you.

Sejanus returned your stare, a look of imminent dread appearing on his face. Knowing his father, he had probably already bribed the dean to give him a tribute from District two.

Highbottom then began to roll of the names of students who would act as mentors, coinciding with the reapings from each district, as photos of the tributes appeared on the TVs, their names listed below them.

“District two male, Sejanus Plinth…” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sejanus sink lower into his seat. You silently reached over to grasp his hand as a photo of a well built eighteen year old boy appeared on the TV to your left. He had wide set shoulders and a scowl smeared across his face as a group of Peacekeepers ushered him onto the stage, nudging him in the back with the butts of their riffles. In large text below his figure you could read out the name Marcus. From the apparent misery plastered across your friend’s face, it was easy to assume that the two had known at each other at one point.

As the Dean went down the list of mentors, you found yourself zoning out, trying to think of ways in which you would be able to help your tribute. You would need to find out whether or not they were of any use with a weapon, and if not, where would they be able to hide and lay low. As your mind raced with all different types of scenarios you would need to prepare your tribute for, you almost missed Dean Highbottom calling out your name.

“District seven male, Y/N DuPont…”

Eyes bolting up to the screens in front of you, you were met with the sight of him. He was well built like Marcus, with dark curls peeking out from under a worn out hat. He looked like he was your age— seventeen or maybe eighteen, yet his eyes were those of a young child, filled with fear and terror. His olive skin seemed to have drained of all its color as he was marched to the platform, Peacekeepers on either side of him.

Your eyes trailed down the screen to where his name was listed…

‘Treech’

A/N

I haven’t seen enough fanfics for this man, so I decided to make one myself! Let me know if you would like a part two!

xoxo