#no beta we die like literally every thg character

[lovepersevering13]

Can I request something Everlark?

I have this idea about them on victory tour, but it's a bit raw. The prompt is "Well, I can't read your damn mind, sweetheart!" And it's about them having a fight shortly before they arrive in D1, which was tough for Katniss because of Glimmer and Marvel. And she is really struggling and starts a fight with Peeta on the train, but they make up again 🥺🥺🥺 thank u ✨

Haunted - Everlark

Thank you so much for this request!!! It’s longer than I originally planned it to be but I just kept wanting to add more… :)

Summary: The stress of the victory tour causes some tension between Katniss and Peeta

Warnings: Survivors guilt, guilt, arguments, mention of character death, minimal editing so there are probably some issues here… (Please let me know if there are any more I should add)

Word Count: 2164

There wasn’t much to enjoy on the victory tour. The repetitive, tedious and depressing routine caused each miserable day to blur together into a whirl of torture. Katniss constantly tried to remind herself that she was doing absolutely everything she could but in all honesty everyone knew by then that no amount of kissing, hand holding or giddy smiling at Peeta was going to pacify the rioting districts.

On top of the helplessness she felt surrounding the threats from president Snow, she was hit each day with a violent and guilt ridden reminder of each tribute who should’ve been in her place.

It really did feel as if the one and only thing stopping her from going completely mad was the undeserved, dutifully loving and gentle presence of Peeta Mellark by her side through it all.

As the train sped along steadily he lay sleepily next to her. Peeta didn’t have to be in there with her, but he was every single night without fail.

Always.

Katniss was grateful for Peeta. She really, truly was, even though she didn’t have the strength to tell him as much.

Usually she could sleep perfectly fine with Peeta next to her but even though she was curled up in her bed with Peeta’s sleeping face mere inches from hers she couldn’t rest. Her stomach was too heavy with guilt to do anything but lay paralyzed and count the seconds between his breaths.

The train was steadily but surely approaching district 1, Katniss found herself unable to think of anything but their tributes from last year. Before the games started Glimmer and the boy from one had the odds stacked in their favor (As much as they could be in the games) but somehow… She killed them both.

What tormented her the most on this night was that tomorrow she would look into the eyes of their loved ones and know that she was the reason their children were not in her place.

It was the one thing she couldn’t talk about with Peeta. He understood so much of what she’d been through but he hadn’t a drop of blood on his hands. Some days Katniss was so covered in the blood of others that she was practically choking on it. Like tonight.

Peeta rose with the sun every morning, a habit from the bakery. So when the blurry orange hues began to paint the sky out of the train window Katniss was not at all surprised by Peeta stirring next to her.

In the mornings Peeta looked so peaceful that it brought a sense of ease to everyone around him. At least it did for Katniss.

“You’re awake early,” He murmured softly, staring at Katniss with hazy blue eyes,

“So are you,” She stated, Peeta smirked and rolled onto his back,

“I’m always awake early,”

“I know,” She rolled onto her back, mirroring his position. Despite how close they come in sleep, the morning always brought a painful amount of awkward distance.

“You didn’t have a nightmare last night?”

Katniss answers silently with a large yawn,

“You didn’t?” She questions,

Peeta smiled, masking his worry over Katniss’s lack of sleep, “Not with you here,” He answered, turning to face her. Peeta shamelessly admired her.

The way the light brought out the prettiest of shades in her hair, the way her flushed, sleepy cheeks contrasted her deeply tanned skin and the way she let him find solace in her presence.

Peeta’s admiring was cut short by a rampant knock on the door,

“Katniss, we have a big, big, big day ahead of us!”

Then the day started. Breakfast, makeup, hair, a beautiful dress lined with cascading golden jewels that only Cinna’s trustworthy hands could craft. Katniss glimmered (pun not intended) on every light she touched. The dress wasn’t too heavy, itchy or revealing as per usual, and of course it looked beautiful. She looked beautiful.

Carefully Cinna adjusted the complex braid which was wrapped in a majestic crown around Katniss’s head. He placed three palm sized cards on the vanity in front of her.

“Here are the cards from Effie,”

“Thank you,” Katniss sighed. She had long ago given up on trying to deviate from the cards - even Peeta who was much better with speeches stuck to the cards.

“Now, show me that smile,” Cinna urged, one hand comfortingly and firmly placed on each of Katniss’s jewel studded shoulders.

Katniss would never perfect the art of forced smiles.

She moved on autopilot as she made her way to the justice building. Peeta took her hand, Peacekeepers opened the doors and Katniss stepped out into the blaring sun. Marvel, she noted, was the name of the boy. She killed him and didn’t even know his name. Her next breath took more effort than her last. Katniss had learnt days ago not to look at the family no matter how much she wanted to. Instead, she stared at the shimmery photo of Glimmer, Glimmer stared back at her.

Katniss was going through the motions but her mind was miles away. Specifically, up the top of a tree in the middle of the arena, Tracker jackers buzzing irritatingly around her head. On her skin.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Sting. Sting. Sting.

Katniss gritted her teeth and tried desperately not to reveal herself by swatting at the Tracker jackers.

She kept going, reading the cards, kissing Peeta’s cheek.

Sting. Sting. Sting. Her skin was bloating and her throat was closing in. Katniss kept her face placid. They couldn’t see her pain.

They couldn’t see.

They couldn’t see.

They couldn’t see.

The door slammed shut behind them with a thud just in time for Katniss to suck in a violently loud breath.

Peeta was still linked to her side- suffocating.

In panic, Katniss shoved Peeta off her, simultaneously stumbling back against the wall.

Effie shrieked.

“Katniss,” Haymitch hissed in warning. Katniss glanced at Peeta, his face was almost blank but his eyes scanned the room for people who saw Katniss’s small outburst.

Katniss took slow breaths, averting her eyes from everyone in the room. She spread her palms against the wall behind her, slowly tracing her fingers over a golden jewels implanted in the wall.

She stayed like that for a moment, those around her sharing weary looks until Cinna placed a hand on her arm and led her away.

Once Katniss wa re-dressed and designed for dinner, another extravagant golden dress, skin tight and floor length, accompanied by flowing sheer sleeves, a white shawl made of fox skin and a light golden glitter on her cheeks and eyelids which served to feminize her like the most delicate jewel. She sat at the vanity, swallowing her nerves thickly.

There was a knock on her door, Effie, she suspected.

“Come in,” Katniss called sitting up straight, she really couldn’t handle a lecture from Effie right now.

Peeta creaked the door open slightly, just enough that Katniss got a glimpse of his shimmery outfit, seemingly cut from the same length of golden fabric as hers. And, if it wasn’t just a trick of the light, his blonde curls were dusted with gold. Peeta was also not exempt from the makeup, he wore dark heavy eyeliner and his prep team had accentuated his jawline and cheekbones to such an extent that he looked nothing like the gentle Peeta she’d woken up to that morning.

“Cinna did a good job on your dress,”

“And Portia on your suit,” Katniss responded quietly. Peeta nodded and entered the room, he closed the door behind him, preventing passer-bys from overhearing whatever he wanted to discuss.

Peeta wanted to clear the tension before they had to spend the evening madly in love, it had proven much easier when they were at least friendly with each other. He also didn’t want to sleep alone that night.

“Can we talk about earlier?” He asked hesitantly,

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She stated,

“Look Katniss, this works better when we’re open with each other,”

“Agreed.”

Peeta waited momentarily, assuming her agreement would evoke further comment.

That was the thing with Katniss though, you could never assume anything.

Peeta grew impatient with every passing second,

“Well I can’t read your damn mind sweetheart,” Katniss recoiled at the term, Peeta knew that name got under her skin.“Look Katniss, I get that this is hard for you but we can’t get through this if we don’t work together.“

“You don’t understand Peeta,” She snapped dismissively,

“Help me understand, I want to understand Katniss!” He snapped back, running a hand through his hair, erasing what was probably hours of work.

Katniss pursed her lips, staring blankly at Peeta, how could she even begin to make him understand. She didn’t want him to ever have to understand the crushing weight that she carried constantly.

“You just wouldn’t get it.” She stated, with a sense of finality that Peeta couldn’t be bothered to argue with.

Peeta left, though he was cautious not to slam the door and immediately don a charming smile.

Katniss and Peeta made sure that they acted the same as usual all through dinner, though there wasn’t much of a difference: it was always an act anyway.

The main difference occurred after dinner, when Katniss sat on the edge of her bed waiting for Peeta. As more time passed she began to feel increasingly foolish. She had just expected him to apologize like he usually would, though she knew it wasn’t his fault. Katniss was so used to him doting upon her that it was easy to pretend she was always in the right.

Exhaustion and fear began to overtake her. The lack of sleep from the night before was beginning to catch up to her but she couldn’t handle the darkness of night alone. Without Peeta.

She did feel terrible for the things she’d said in the moment, she knew Peeta had been under similar pressures, she just felt jealous that he was able to handle it better than her.

The guilt of yelling at Peeta was the last unsteady brick needed to bring her crumbling down.

Katniss slipped on a deep green cardigan over her silky gray t-shirt and lounge pants before heading towards Peeta’s room. It was empty, bed made, shoes neatly lined by the door, bathroom door wide open- also, empty. Katniss had never really seen Peeta’s room before, he always came to her. It looked identical to hers, only she doubted it had ever been destroyed in a fit of rage.

Katniss continued her search, going to the next logical place- despite it being her least favorite room on the train. The door to Peeta’s studio was cracked slightly open and she could smell the paint fumes leaking out from it. She knocked on the door,

“Peeta?” She called weakly,

Peeta appeared at the door.

Peeta’s long sleeved cotton shirt and linen pants were speckled and splattered in paint- primarily, greens and reds. Katniss noticed Peeta’s leg was detached and perched against the wall. He clutched an elegant golden walking stick to support himself.

“Peeta-“ She started, “I’m sorry,”

“No, I am,”

The two clambered over each other to apologize.

“No Peeta. I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed recently and I was just…” Katniss struggled to put words to her feelings.

“I get it Katniss, I’m not mad. I know you’ve been put under a lot of pressure recently,”

“I’m still sorry,”

“Thank you.” Peeta smiled, limping to the stool in the middle of the room.

Katniss lets herself in, keeping her eyes trained to the floor- a fear of nightmares written on every walk in this room. She sat cross legged on the floor in front of him.

“We should talk about it though, when you’re ready?” Peeta suggested,

“I know,” Katniss nodded, this time deciding she probably ought to continue.

“Glimmer and Marvel… I killed both of them. Their blood, it’s in my hands.”

Peeta’s brows furrowed thoughtfully. If he believed the train wasn’t bugged he’d assure Katniss that the only hands stained crimson were Snow’s. However, Peeta wasn’t stupid.

“I killed Foxface,” He murmured instead.

Katniss was shocked, her illusion of loneliness in guilt being shattered around her was enough to make her look up to meet Peeta’s eyes despite the horrors all around them.

“What? Peeta, no. She ate those berries, it wasn't your fault,” Katniss corrected him.

“If I hadn’t been gathering them…”

Katniss couldn’t help but reach forward and gently rest her hand against his one knee.

“It wasn’t your fault Peet,” she promised, horrified at how someone as perfect as Peeta could be plagued by the same guilt she’d carried for so many months.

“Then it wasn’t your fault either,” Peeta took Katniss’s hand off his knee and cradled it in his hand,

“Promise me you won’t blame yourself for their deaths Katniss,”

“I promise,” She sighed, unsure how she’d ever truly keep that promise, but for Peeta she was willing to try.

(Let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome)