#everlark fanfic
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Us Among the Living Chapter 13 out now on ao3!
enjoy this long ass chapter!! y'all deserve it. this is a very everlarky chapter in this everlark fic so if you're here for the everlark you will not be disappointed!
also i'm working through all the comments!! i appreciate them so much thank you for sharing your thoughts with me it's why i write this fic <333
also happy passover friends!!
#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#everlark fic#everlark fanfic#everlark fanfiction#thg fic#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#us among the living
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Maybe when you're older
Katniss and Peeta Age: 5-6
“You better give that back Colton, or else.” the dark-haired girl sneered.
“Or what?” the older boy taunted.
“I’ll stick one of my daddy’s arrows in your eyes,” the girl retorted, glaring into his flesh like an angry bear from one of her daddy’s stories.
Th older boy bent down and tugged at her pigtails. Katniss’ face flushed bright red, she felt heat coursing through her veins. She unclenched her tight jaw and threw herself over the older boy’s arm and bit down, hard.
Colton let out a let out a loud yelp, dropped the crayon and scurried like a scared mouse.
“Here,” Katniss said, handing the orange to the blond-haired boy behind her.
“Thank you," the boy replied, attempting his best smile in between tears.
“Don’t cry. I got your crayon back, it’s all okay now.” Her silver eyes softened as she watched long steaks run down the pale boy’s face.
The boy nodded, lifting his shirtsleeve to wipe his wet face.
“Come, you can sit with me and Madge,” Katniss offered with a sweet smile.
The boy beamed up at her and grabbed her shirtsleeve as they strolled down the lunchroom.
After that day the boy and the girl followed each other everywhere like lost puppies. He never let go over of her hand and neither did she.
---
“My daddy took me swimming last weekend, “the girl said.
“I wish my daddy would do anything besides bake all the time. Was is nice? What colour was the water?”
“It was sooo fun. I keep begging daddy to take me again, but he keeps saying something about the Capitol adding more work time. It was so pretty Peeta, so many colours I can’t explain. It was blue and green and clean and sparkly and I just love it, love it.”
“Can I come with you next time,” the boy raised his head expectantly.
“Mmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask daddy.” She said, watching the boy intently as he unwrapped a piece of bread. Her mouth watered, she shifted her gaze quickly trying not to give away the fact that she hadn’t had a proper meal in days. But the boy knew her better, he pressed a piece of bread into her hand as her stomach let out a loud lurch.
“Thank you.”
She had watched her parents kiss multiple time, she never quite understood why they did it, but at that moment looking at her best friend’s face an idea crept into her mind.
Katniss grabbed both his hands, leaned up close and pressed her tiny lips against his. They both pulled back surprised, flushed and embarrassed.
---
They sat by side in art class, Peeta was immersed in painting his tree. While Katniss half-heartedly drew scribbles on her notebook, peaking at her best friend every so often.
She leaned in close, brought her hands to his eyelashes and stroked them, The boy pulled back surprised
“You’re eyelashes are very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
The boy turned around and kept colouring his tree a dark shade of green, the girl’s hair brushed against his shoulders as she watched him with droopy eyes.
Peeta turned once again and twirled her red ribbon against his index finger, the girl lifted her head, smiling and unwound her ribbon.
“Here.” She said, scruffily wrapping the string around his wrist.
---
“Daddy, I like a boy”.
“Really sweety? What’s his name?” The tall, dark-haired man asked his little girl.
“Peeta.”
The tall man laughed deeply thinking about Mr Mellark’s deep affections for his wife when they were kids.
“Daddy can I stay with him, he has bunk bed and bread and crayons and everything.”
“Won’t you miss daddy? And what about Prim? How will she fall asleep if you don’t sing to her.” The man pouted.
“Hmm. I can’t leave Prim, you’re right. Maybe when I’m older?” The girl earnestly questioned the silver eyed man.
“Maybe when you’re older.”
#idk what this is#wrote this quickly instead of studying#I don't love it but likee ehh#also I have no idea how 5 years old talk#I hope this is close enough#like I rrly don't know if they the eq to understand social ques#everlark#everlark fanfiction#katniss and peeta#peeta mellark#the hunger games#katniss everdeen#thg fanfic#everlark fanfic#The typos helpkhhh#Just corrected#I can't believe myself sometimes
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my 32 year old aunt, who is a big Hunger Games fan, wants to start reading Katniss/Peeta fanfics that are post-canon based but before having children (?) like, something about their relationship growing & healing after canon (idk i'm not a hunger games fan lol)
does anyone have any good fics recommendations for her?
#anyone pls send me recs#she never read fanfics before so pls dont send any weird shit lol#hunger games#the hunger games#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#everlark fanfic#thg series
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Sign Up Now Open! (Click Here)
Sign up for writing a fic by simply completing the linked google form so you can be added to the AO3 collection! Once that's complete, you can begin writing based on the prompt!
Prompt: After the 74th games but before the Quater quell! Can be anywhere between missing moments in canon to a complete AU! All lengths accepted!
Submission due May 8th, 2024!
On May 8th, the collection on AO3 will go live and the comment feast begins!
For additional information, visit the FAQ page!
This comment feast is not about which author has the most comments but rather focuses on the commenters! Which commenter can engage with the most fics in the collection?
This blog will be highlighting comments for all fics in the collection once posted!
If you have any further questions or comments, feel free to send an ask!
#thg fanfiction#everlark fanfiction#thg fanfic#hunger games fanfiction#hunger games fanfic#everlark fanfic#thgcommentfeast#reblog to boost please!#thgcommentfeastmay24#May24
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thg fic recs
These are the gifts written for me in the various fic exchanges I've participated in. All four of them are so different from each other, and all so good.
Deterioration of a Smile - FortuneFaded2012 @fortunefaded2012
Katniss Everdeen has been on death row for ten years, but she is convinced she has only been there for months. Convicted of a triple homicide she must contend with her mental deterioration, glass wall visitations with her fiancé Peeta Mellark, and her impending execution.
Rating: M
Words: 13,101
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A wedding in the district - AlwaysEverlark @alwayseverlark
Request:
Non-reaped!Everlark. Katniss and Peeta interact as guests at a traditional district 12 wedding.
Another take on “it would have happened anyway”
Katniss is invited to her first Merchant wedding.
Rating: M
Words: 5,785
______
you make me feel - Word_Addict
Peeta and Katniss meet, not at the Reaping, but at a dance months later. Will they still find a spark, even without the Games to ignite it?
Rating: G
Words: 1,115
______
The Revival Tour - atleastmymomlikesme @atleastmymomlikesme
The last surviving member of the Covey returns to his nomadic roots only to find himself in the least musical place in Panem- District 13.
Rating: T
Words: 2,297
#fic rec#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#everlark fanfiction#everlark fanfic#Katniss Everdeen#Peeta Mellark#The Covey#clerk carmine clade#the hunger games#thg#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas
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Hiiii! I wanted to write a little something simple for Everlark and decided to lowkey mix two requests! “A kiss on the chest” and “Katniss learning what they did to Peeta in MJ and kissing his scars”. It was supposed to be set Post-Mockingjay but I instead made it a sequel to my “Peeta wasn’t hijacked in MJ reunion oneshot AU”. If you haven’t read it, it’s fine, the title right there tells you everything necessary to know 😂.
I hope everyone who reads this likes it! I loved writing it and I would really appreciate anyone who enjoyed this to like/reblog! It makes me so so so happy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. Also thank you to all my constant encouragers, you guys make my day with all your sweetness 🥹🥹🥹🥹.
Summary : Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. [Non - Hijacked Peeta Mockingjay AU].
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Burned. Check mark.
Whipped. Check mark.
Starved. Check mark.
Shocked. Check mark.
Tortured (with water and [redacted][redacted]). Check mark.
I toss the file back onto the table where it was left by Peeta’s doctors, unable to stare at it any longer. Unable to stomach reading every which way Peeta was harmed while held prisoner in the Capitol. Again. I’ve already read it upwards of ten times tonight.
It never gets easier. Reading the extensive list of his injuries, reading the details they managed to pry out of him, visualizing what horrible acts were done to to him, listening to his doctors confer among themselves in sympathy and disgust, they themselves deeply disturbed by what he experienced at the hand of the president himself.
“Sweetheart, would you make up your mind?” Haymitch snaps. He’s in the worst mood he’s been in a while.
“Huh?” I furrow my brow and glare up at him.
“Either read that thing or stop messing with it.” He indicates toward Peeta’s file. “I’ve sat here and watched you throw it down and pick it back up a dozen times already. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re pathetic, Haymitch,” I say back but there’s little bite in my tone. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Peeta trapped in a freezing cold cell, naked and bloody and alone and terrified, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. It’s suffocating me, from the inside out. It’s taking up all of the space in my head, leaving no room for even bickering with Haymitch.
And Haymitch knows it too.
Of course, he of all people should be able to read me. After all, the same stupid file — and his crippling remorse — is undoubtedly what’s put Haymitch in such an awful mood in the first place.
“Just go see him, Katniss,” he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. “Go. You’re of no use to him just sitting out here, reading about what’s already been done. Get up and go see him.”
He’s right and I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, I know Haymitch has me there.
But still, I stall. It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta. The opposite, in fact. Since his rescue thirty-seven days ago — not that I’m counting exactly — I’ve spent copious amounts of time with him. I’ve spent every waking moment that I could in his presence and as many of my sleeping ones that I’m allowed.
The doctors aren’t really thrilled about our arrangement there. They want to keep watch on Peeta as he sleeps, to watch and study and take notes and examine him further, but evidently it’s rather hard to analyze his nightmares with me wrapped around his torso all night, like a protective pretzel.
It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta right now. It’s the fact that I don’t think I can look him in the eye, after reading exactly what those monsters Snow hired did to him, and pretend it isn’t all my fault.
“I don’t think the doctors are done with him…” I mumble, avoiding Haymitch’s eyes now.
“Cut the crap, Sweetheart.”
“Go away, Haymitch.”
“Go see the boy or I’ll find a way for you to spend tomorrow filming a propo.”
I glare at him again. “Would you stop?”
“Coin is getting hungry for some new ones.”
“Okay, fine, you win!” I exclaim, springing up out of my chair. “Congratulations, Haymitch. You blackmailed me into going to see my own boyfriend. Happy?” I hiss, kicking him in the shin as I walk past his chair.
Not hard enough to hurt him apparently. Not even hard enough for him to care. Instead he picks apart my wording with a smirk. “Your boyfriend? How darn cute.”
“Shut up,” I call as I exit the room.
The last thing I hear is him making loud, obnoxious kissing sounds in my wake.
-
I slip past the doctors, both the head and the medical, and beyond the nurses and supply carts and trays of food, into the room where I’ve spent more hours in the last month than I can count on two hands.
“Hi,” Peeta whispers softly as I close the door behind me. He’s shirtless, in bed and seemingly half-asleep already, laying on his side beneath the sheets. Waiting for me.
He looks so much better than he did the night of his rescue. His bruises are healing nicely, he’s gaining weight and muscle back, his hair is clean and curly again — thanks to me and Thirteen’s strong, medicinal shampoo — and his skin is starting to lose that scary, pale, translucent look.
But he’s still so hurt. He’s still injured — internally far more than externally — and I swear, I can feel my heart swell up and break into pieces just looking at him too long.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur softly, crawling beneath the blankets and folding him into my arms. Even with all the weight lost, he’s much too large for me to hold completely, so I make due wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and stroking the back of his head tenderly.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, burying his face where my neck and shoulder meet.
A wave of guilt ripples through me. “Sorry I took so long.”
But he shakes his head, still having no room for spite in his body. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s still so sweet. He’s still so warm and kind and generous.
Well, towards me at least. The same can’t be said for his behavior toward Haymitch, who he blames for leaving us both in the dark about the rebellion.
“You were worth the wait,” he whispers. “You’re worth every wait.”
I feel myself blush and cover it swiftly by kissing his cheek. “How was your tests today?” I ask, smoothing his hair back.
He shoots me a sardonic look now and I giggle like a little kid. Every day when his dry humor peaks through the darkness, I get filled with ridiculous, unparalleled — uncharacteristic — delight.
“Still tedious as ever?” I murmur, rubbing his shoulder with my pointer finger.
“Boring as ever,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again. He’s clearly exhausted from all the probing they did today. And I know I should sleep too.
I usually sleep whenever he sleeps, wake only when the doctors make me leave, spend as much time with him as I can before getting sent away. But tonight I just can’t. I can’t make my brain shut off, despite the fact that at least half the compound is in bed, the other not far behind.
And of course, even tired as he is, even with everything going on in his mind, he still notices my distress.
“What is it?” He whispers, not even opening his eyes.
“Hmm?” I feign oblivion.
“Katniss, I can see something’s wrong.” He opens his baby blues, peaking down at me through his long, tangled up lashes. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him, kissing his upper arm because it’s the closest thing within my reach.
“You saw my file?” He’s fully awake and coherent now, his voice much stronger than before. His tone leaves no room for question, even if I could lie straight to his face.
“Yes,” I whisper, feeling suddenly nervous he’ll be angry. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy to read it, I don’t know. The doctors left it out, I just assumed it was okay. “Are you mad?”
“No.” He chuckles lightly before moving his hand down to my hip, tugging me closer if even possible. “No, I don’t care. Read it as much as you want.”
He really means it too. He really doesn’t care if I invade his privacy, dig into his business and overstep my bounds. I don’t know if I’d be so generous if the situation were reversed.
Then again, going by the things I just read, he’s already been tortured and humiliated beyond belief. I doubt he has any concern for privacy left.
“You can ask me anything, you know,” Peeta says after a minute and I cup his cheek in my hand, shaking my head instinctively. I can’t ask him to talk about what they did. That would be cruel.
Instead I lean up and kiss him on the mouth, slowly and softly. Conveying every feeling I have for him, conveying every ounce of affection and gratitude and longing pent up inside me.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Peeta,” I whisper against his lips.
I feel his hand cradle the back of my head, massaging my scalp. “I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he finally says, resting his forehead against mine. “Not anything that you want to know.”
My eyes fall, breaking contact with his. I have questions, yes — understatement if I ever heard one — but I refuse to pry and I’m terrified to ask and I don’t even know where to begin after what I read.
But then something catches my attention. A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now.
“What’s this?” I murmur, running my finger lightly across the surface, clocking the way Peeta cringes a little at the contact. “Does that hurt?”
He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.”
“Nothing,” I immediately gasp, my head shaking and brows knitting together. The idea that Peeta earned anything that happened in that mansion blasphemous to my ears. “You did nothing, baby.”
“I know,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead lightly. “I just can’t remember why they whipped me that day.”
That day. Because there’s so many days where he was whipped to choose from. Of course.
My eyes land on another mark, this one dark purple and almost circular, high up on his torso, almost on his shoulder. It’s not a bruise, although at first glance it could be mistaken for one. No, it’s definitely a scar. From what, I can’t tell.
I trace it with my thumb, rubbing it back and forth. It’s raised and rough to the touch, a little jagged even, like it never properly healed.
His hand comes up to touch my arm, almost out of reflex, halting my ministrations. “That’s from the early days,” he explains, with almost a touch of humor in his voice. “They were more creative then… and they had a lot of matches on hand.”
It takes me a beat to figure out what he means by matches. “Fire? Fire matches, Peeta?”
“Yeah.” He nods sheepishly. “Snow had a big supply evidently.”
“I will burn him alive,” I say through gritted teeth before I can think better of it.
“Calm down, firecracker,” Peeta laughs but I’m fuming. I’m fuming mad and ready to fight at a moments notice. I probably could even make a half-decent propo right now, the amount of venom coursing through my veins.
I encourage my own anger, feed it, in fact. Because I want to be angry. I want to feel this rage.
Because if I don’t, I’ll start crying. And that’ll only serve to make Peeta feel even worse. Which I can’t let happen.
I’ve already done that too many times.
I don’t tell him any of what I’m thinking. Nothing good could come from that. Instead I search for a way to mask my anger, protect him from seeing it.
I stretch up and press a kiss against the corner of Peeta’s mouth, traveling to his chin, down the side of his neck and over his collarbone.
He responds by letting out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying the attention.
I journey further down his body until my lips land on his chest, exactly where his scar is.
“What are you doing?” He asks breathlessly, peering down at me now. “You don’t have to-“
“Let me,” I whisper, tracing it again with my finger. He shudders a little at the contact. “Let me make it better.”
I hear him swallow hard. “Okay.” He nods a little, quietly inhaling and exhaling.
I lean in slowly and press my lips to the mark, the whip scar, soft and tender.
I can feel him relax beneath me, deflating almost. I don’t sense any sign of discomfort, so I take that as my cue to continue on, kissing the same spot again and again, moving up and down the length of his wound, creating a circuit and following it repeatedly, waiting until he tells me to stop.
“Katniss,” he murmurs, sounding almost pained, like my name hurts.
“Yeah?“
“Thank you.” His voice is almost inaudible, almost a praise or a plea. Tears leak out the corners of his tired eyes.
I have to fight to keep my lip from trembling, to stop myself from crying too. Instead I crawl up his body, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist and fold my arms loosely around his neck.
“Let me kiss them all,” I say into his skin. My mouth travels across the top of his shoulder, my eyes closed, moving by the touch of my lips alone, not stopping until I land on his burn.
I press kiss after kiss into the bumpy, rough scar, until I feel Peeta’s breathing even out against me. I feel his heart beating against me and his chest rise and fall with mine, and an ember of hope that my method may be working grows stronger.
“Roll over for me,” I urge, keeping my voice as gentle as my touch.
“You don’t have to do them all,” he says but I can tell he’s enjoying this immensely. I can tell this helping him more than any treatment the doctors have recommended.
“I want to, Peeta,” I insist, no question in my tone.
Slowly and lethargically, he complies, rolling over so his back is facing me. I keep my hold on him, both my arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby animal clings to their mother.
He has a plethora of scars and wounds on his back. More than I’ve been able to stomach yet. Not once since his rescue have I been able to truly face the sight before me now.
I begin at the top, resting the palms of my hands on his shoulder blades, pressing my mouth to the center of his spine, to the back of his neck, the back of his ribs, anywhere with a painful mark or dark bruise.
I keep going, never tiring, as if I can kiss him better. As if my kiss can take away everything that’s happened, everything that I unintentionally caused and everything I ache to go back and stop. I kiss him like I can make him whole again. Like I can heal his fractured heart.
Eventually he relaxes underneath me, his breathing evens out again and he goes slack.
Even then, I keep kissing him. Even in his sleep, I refuse to stop trying to heal his hurt.
“I love you, Peeta,” I whisper against his arm, knowing full well that he cannot hear me anymore. “I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you from this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
My lips are still on his back when the doctors order me out of the room.
-
#everlark#thg#hunger games#katniss everdeen#Peeta mellark#mockingjay#mockingjay AU#the hunger games#my writing#oneshot#drabble#request#Everlark fanfic#everlark fanficton#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#300#thw#hunger games fic#everlark fic#hurt/comfort#kisses#kisses prompt#places to kiss prompt
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fic rec
hey i haven't been on tumblr in ages so this probably won't get any attention buuuuuut
after over a decade my new hyperfocus is now the hunger games (yes i'm late, i'm an aquarius) and i haven't been able to finish the last book bc of fanfic
which brings me to ask for recs!!
i'm on page 80 on ao3 but if anyone has any everlark fic rec especifically for:
katniss being actually preggers in the quarter quell
post-mockingjay/pre-epilogue
i'd be forever thankful!! :)
#the hunger games#everlark#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark fanfic#i havent watched the new movie yet bc i'm waiting till i finish the last book#which will be forever apparently#but anyways watched it in december '23 for the first time#am currently obsessed#also got the adhd diagnosis so that explains a lot#do i even still have active mutuals/followers??
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My friend sent me this and I LOL’d so hard because we’ve definitely experienced this in THG fandom, and I love it so much!! 😂🥰
#lol#there was only one bed#the hunger games#everlark#peeta mellark#katniss everdeen#everlark fanfic#everlark fanfiction#the hunger games fanfiction#thg fanfic#hunger games fanfiction#thg
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to see the face of god
chapter two: the star-crossed lovers
katniss everdeen x peeta mellark
When he was young, if he had a particularly bad day— a scolding from Father Snow, a fight with his mom, a bad test grade— he used to lay on the floor of his room and press his ear to the ground. He would imagine that if he tried, if he focused hard enough, he’d be able to hear the miners working underfoot, the crunch of the earth. And even deeper than that, feel the tectonic shift of its plates, grinding together or working in unison. The lava coursing through like blood through a network of veins. The core pulsing under its own heat, thumping. The body, the blood. The collaboration of nourishment. Now that was religious.
He’d lie there and he’d listen for hours, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. Such a waste of time, he knows, now. If he wanted to hear proof of God’s existence, he should’ve pulled Katniss Everdeen aside and asked for a song. Idiot. Idiot boy. Why didn’t he?
He can feel himself staring at her. He knows he should look away, but he’s transfixed by the blush on her cheeks, dawning over her face like a sunrise. And the look in her eyes, locked on his, so appealingly vulnerable. He never knew she could sing like that. Why didn’t he? It seems like something he should’ve gone out of his way to find out.
#the hunger games#everlark#katniss#peeta#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#katniss x peeta#everlark fanfic#my writing#my fics
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Neighbors — New Everlark One-Shot
fluffy little modern au one-shot about katniss and peeta meeting at a sandcastle competition on the lakeshore where katniss' parents fell in love <3
if you like everlark on the beach this is for you!!
i wrote this in one sitting in a matter of hours this morning lol hope y'all enjoy :)
#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#thg fic#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#thg au#hunger games au#everlark fic#everlark fanfic#everlark fanfiction#everlark au#beach everlark
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Fool Me Twice
A modern-day supernatural Everlark fanfic, full of surprises and angst. Who knew you could fall in love with the enemy?
Pairing: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Concept: Vampire & Vampire Hunter
Summary: Humans and vampires have been enemies for decades. Katniss Everdeen wanted the infamous vampire hunter in her hometown dead and she would do anything it takes. Her plan backfired and had to flee. Years later, Peeta Mellark is now the one out for blood… But what if he finds out maybe she’s not so evil after all?
Read Here on AO3
#wrote this at 3am#sorry if it sucks#first chapter is eh (sorry)#everlark fanfic#everlark fic#vampire au#vampire!katniss#vampire hunter!peeta#Peeta mellark#katniss everdeen#thg fic#ao3
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posted the other part of my series Stay with me? Always. :)
first was I'm a mutt.
and now I present Night Terror
#everlark#everlark fanfic#the hunger games#post mockingjay#everlark fluff#everlark hurt/comfort#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#stay with me? always
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Just for fun, I made a list of all my stories from the last few @thgseasonofhope fic exchanges. All three of them are so different from each other and at least one of them would never have existed without my giftee's prompts (which is good, because it definitely brought me out of my comfort zone).
and that has made all the difference
Eighteen-year-old Cinna interns for longtime stylist Tigris during that year's Hunger Games.
Rated: T
Words: 2159
______
Crave
Katniss develops some unusual cravings in the early stages of her pregnancy. Post-Mockingjay
Rated: M
Words: 1,467
______
Something Sweet
Pre-canon. Reminiscing about happier times in her past, Lucy Gray would like to create some sweet memories for the younger members of the Covey.
Rated: T
Words: 1,290
#thg fanfiction#everlark fanfiction#everlark fanfic#thg fanfic#Katniss Everdeen#the hunger games#thg#peeta mellark#The covey#lucy gray baird#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#Tigris#Cinna#lastleaf writes stuff#stuff i write
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I was thinking about the memory book and I had a thought… what if they had one for each kid? like I know we do that irl sort of, but them having a memory book for the kids with a mix of pictures and sketches and most importantly having every single milestone written down because yall know Katniss would be THAT mom. It warmed my heart.
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