#adsofraser writing

[adsosfraser]

Hello!! 👹👹👹

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss

enjoy catching fire divergence with our everlark babies <3 👹

"I don't know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks." I find my own eyelashes nearly tangled up with his. I'm so caught up in tracing the curve of the light dazzling through the infinitesimal strands that I don't notice our noses are nearly touching until I feel the bridge of his press up against me. Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks into my eyes so suddenly I almost jolt out of my skin. But I hold firm in where I'm sat, curious to see him and feel him again this close. His eyes are as perfect and crisply clear as those late spring days, unburdened by the typical grey rain clouds that come with the occasional spring showers. He's about to say something when I push myself forward, greedy and impulsive in my pursuit. Our nest up in my room is cozy and snug, like our cave that shielded us from the outside world of impending death. I press my lips against his, reaching my hand to the nape of his neck for something to hold. I feel safe and warm, like Peeta is his own personal sun and his lips are spreading life into mine. When I feel that thing again, that want for more, I pull back, my cheeks burning with embarrassment at my selfish act. The sleep syrup has long passed through my system. My actions are from a mind not imbued with sedatives and the like. Peeta looks as if he's trying to contain his confusion, joy, and dismay all at once. He licks his lips, flicking his gaze down to my own before staring back up at me. "You know, that's the first time we've ever kissed without cameras zeroed in on our every move." He's allowing me an out, a way to explain myself or brush the kiss off entirely with a quip. I squeeze his hand in mine, bringing it up to brush a kiss against it. I offer a small smile, uncertain still. ""Yeah." I agree. "Our whole relationship has been tainted by he Games. Normal was never a part of it. "Nice for a change.""

this was such a quick turn around I'm so proud of myself like I really wrote this within minutes of getting the ask 🐿️

thanks for sending in the prompt @atelierlili 🩷

from this ask game

[adsosfraser]

I would recognize you in total darkness: in different bodies, in different times

Claire wakes up in the hospital with no memory of who she or anyone is. But she is not alone.

Read on AO3

[adsosfraser]

do no harm

peeta and prim share some cookies and tea; set between the hunger games and catching fire

wc: 1062

At the gate, Prim raced to the far corner of the mammoth mansions dotting Victor’s Village. When she first moved in with her sister and her mother, but she’d gotten used to it. Sort of. 

Her rucksack thumped against her back in a satisfying rhythm as she galloped to the rare sight of the only other blond head in the strip of Victor’s houses that wasn’t related to her. 

“Peeta!”

Prim skipped to a halt at his steps. 

Peeta’s smile was bright, just like his hair and the sun. Prim could see why Katniss was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. “Hey neighbour! Good to see ya!” 

“I have some tea with me, you want some?” 

“Of course, I have some cookies that will be fresh out of the oven too. You know you’re always welcome to try my baking experiments.”

Prim smiled, toeing the first step up to his house. That was all the invitation she needed for a tasty treat. She would always have time for her sweet tooth. “Mhmm.” 

Peeta nodded his head towards the bag hanging from her back. It was a vast improvement from the hand-me-down school bag she had used for the past seven years. “Here, let me take that.” 

They set up on the stools of Peeta’s kitchen as Peeta pulled a pan of cookies fresh out of the oven. He plopped a plate full of them on the kitchen island in front of Prim and busied himself with putting the kettle on for the tea.

Once they were both situated and satisfied with their cup of tea and share of cookies, they chewed in companionable silence. Prim looked around inside the large kitchen, at the oven and stove that were exact replicas of the ones in her house, and noticed how dolefully bare the place was. Yes, statues and paintings that the Capitol had meticulously placed for every Victor’s House  at their creation decorated the pristine white walls. But the only sign of life in Peeta’s kitchen were his baking implements and an apron from Mellark’s Bakery. Prim’s art projects and pressed plants were strewn about all over in their house, much to some people’s grumbling when they accidentally floated to the floor or onto the counter where food was prepped. 

It was bare, save one flower in a vase. It was a peculiar flower, and she had no idea how he procured it unless he had Katniss’s knowledge of the woods. Its petals were white and the leaves that still clung to the clipping were shaped like arrows. The stigma had a nice yellow to it, as if she would sneeze out pollen with one sniff too close. 

“So what has our resident doctor been up to today?”

Peeta brought Prim out of her musings and the dissection of his home. 

“Usual. Coal.” She shrugged.

“Some very exciting stuff there. I truly miss the lectures Mrs. Bernard would give on it.” 

Prim let out a huff of air and looked into Peeta’s charming face. His eyes were a brilliant blue, more vibrant than her darker shade and his smile was dazzling. And most importantly, Peeta gave her way more attention than that jerk Rory Hawthorne did on a good day. He was polite and kind and a proper gentleman. Why couldn’t the boys in her grade be like that?

“But I’m sure you’ll put coal behind you one of these days to become a healer. My brother Graham said you were a great help to his wife when the baby came. You’re a natural Prim, really.” 

Prim preened at his praise. “My mother says I show even more promise than she did at my age.”

“You’re incredible Prim. Everyone can see this is your calling.”

Prim smiled, blushing a brilliant shade of red. 

“My mother is already letting me catch some of the babies during delivery.” 

Talk of babies and Graham’s specifically reminded her of her true purpose of being in Peeta’s home, offering him a peace offering of tea. She’d often come over for sweets since he and Katniss returned from the Games two months ago. But she hadn't come over since that night after the delivery. 

Katniss had had bloodcurdling nightmares before. But that night she could make out more than just incoherent screams. She stood in the open door of her sister’s room, with Buttercup hanging from her arms, as she listened to her sister cry about Peeta leaving her. Crying for him to come back. When she slipped under the covers after Katniss had stopped thrashing, she hugged her body close to her sister and curled into her, croaking out the Valley Song, as her mother fed Katniss a draught of sleep syrup. The mockingjays didn’t stop when she sang like they did for her father and her sister, but she still tried. 

“I know how to stitch a body together now and how to ward off illness with herbs and tinctures.” 

Prim sat tall in her chair, commanding the space of the kitchen. Even barely scraping 5’0, her head level with Peeta’s chest, she exuded a fierce confidence. She stared right into Peeta’s eyes, straight into his soul. 

“If you hurt Katniss, I know just as easily how to reverse that.”

Peeta eyed his cup, now drained of all its liquid, with only the tiny dredges of tea leaves left at the bottom, and gulped.

“Prim I would never.” 

Prim glanced through the window, across the manicured lawn to her own house. Katniss had eyes in the back of her head and now a new ear to boot. 

“She’s sad. And scared. She needs a friend.” Prim looked pointedly at Peeta. 

The message was clear to both of them. Prim was unsatisfied with how Katniss and Peeta avoided each other like the plague and she wasn’t going to rest until that was remedied. She would be like the last half of her namesake. Nice and soft, but a thorn in the resident’s of Victor’s Village sides. 

Relaxing her face from the scowl it was in (which was alarmingly a carbon copy of Katniss’s signature scowl), she beamed at Peeta and swiped her bag from where it was laying on the table. 

Primrose hopped off the stool and whipped her head to the entrance of the house, calling over her shoulder. “Thanks for the cookies! See you around!” 

[adsosfraser]

Guiding Light

Claire stood upon the hill of standing stones and the wind did rise. She placed her hands upon a forget-me-not, and travelled to a far, distant land. The folk had stolen her over again.

Claire wakes up in darkness, with only Jamie's voice to guide her.

or, what if Claire had been abducted from Craigh na Dun, as Frank had originally thought?

Read on AO3

[adsosfraser]

Promise

an outlander drabble set during dragonfly in amber/season 2

wc: 602

The words echoed in my mind, from a life so long separated from the present, as though I were wading through a thick fog of memory, like the smog that had choked the streets of London as leather Victorian shoes slapped up and down the cobblestones. Or would choke the streets that was. The last words from Jamie rang clear and true in my mind as I navigated the glimpses of a time gone by. To care for you both. 

But it clashed with the words I struggled to bring forth again. 

“Couldn’t feel properly…toward a child not of my blood.” 

I looked back to Jamie as the words bubbled to the surface, missing most details but still delivering the destructive truth behind them.

“-an intruder…I’d resent it.” 

The butterflies returned in my stomach and I clutched at them, reassuring myself they were still there. Still safely tucked away up inside me. 

“Jamie…”

His eyes stayed firm on me, expectant. 

“I can promise you I’ll go through the stones should it come to it. But it won’t.” My hand reached out to hold his large and calloused one. Maybe if I squeezed hard enough, our touch would run off all visions of death and destruction on that perilous moor. 

“But you can’t make me promise to return to-” My throat bobbed as I swallowed the thickness that had built up. “To, well, him. Nor leave our child behind.” I thought of Fergus, the surprisingly delicate and endearing soul Jamie plucked from the brothel. My heart swelled thinking of him, and the child nestled under my heart. No, I didn’t want to make them suffer through feelings of inadequacy and to wonder why Frank would be so indifferent to them, based solely on their parentage. “They deserve a father who loves them. Wholly. A child shouldn't have to grow around resentment.” 

“Claire, surely Frank,” Jamie nearly spat out the word. “Wouldn’t turn either of you away. No man that loves you as you say he does would.” He reached for my face, stroking the skin of my cheek as I leaned into him, fluttering my eyes closed. “I certainly couldnae leave, save you begging me to leave ye be.” 

I finally said what had been plaguing my mind since the pure desperation of our agony clashed the other day, where he forced my hand to a blade, a blade intended to stab right through his flesh. 

“Now that we both have clearer heads that have prevailed, as it were. I’ve been thinking.” I paused. “I don’t want to cause you such torment. It’s as though a dagger has pierced my own heart as well. But, had you killed Black Jack Randall in a fit of rage, it’s likely our baby would not be alive either.” I rubbed lazy circles over my womb, comforting its inhabitant. “I wouldn’t have come to Inverness and thought the stones at the right time had Frank not brought me.  Or I might not have come to Scotland altogether.” 

Grabbing a glass from the nearby table made of a dark cherry oak , I swallowed, oblivious to its contents before the sweet and acidic wine hit my lips. I just needed some conduit to imbue the clarity and resolve I needed for my next words. Jamie waited patiently, rubbing the flesh of my knee through my thin shift. 

“I promise to do what’s best for our children. And I trust to follow your lead in that.” 

I made a promise to myself then too. That my children would only know love. Even if I had to be the sole provider of it.

[adsosfraser]

She Moved Through the Fair

Read on AO3

On the train home from the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss opens up more to Peeta, spurred on by the fear of losing him, and he lets her in as they worm their way into each other's lives. They grow together and face the 75th Hunger Games with the only option that will keep both of them alive. Written for "This Would Have Happened Anyway" Challenge for Winter 2024.

[adsosfraser]

Supernova

Part of the Anidalark Series

In which Katniss Everdeen, freshly relieved of her title of Jedi Knight of her own volition, goes AWOL during the outer rim sieges, and waltzes conveniently right into the arms of her husband Senator Peeta Mellark.

or, an anidala inspired Everlark one shot take two - without all of the (or well I mean as much peace as can be expected with Everlark) trauma of the Revenge of the Sith timeline.

Read on AO3

[adsosfraser]

calamity's cocoa

a zombie apocalypse fluff-adjacent oneshot. in which Peeta's mother meets a satisfying ending. meet cute wc: 1793

happy katniss everdeen day <33 (it's still May 8 shh), this was originally written for the d12 fluff fest but I shall post it now instead

Snow falls unhurried to the ground. I watch as the flakes lick the pavement, not sticking but melting immediately. The sight would make me smile, were I in a well-insulated home, with a roaring fire to warm my toes and a cup of hot cocoa in my hands.

But, I speed on ahead on the precarious mountain highway, dodging abandoned cars that dot the two lanes. They slowly stretch farther and farther apart as I push deeper into the mountains, my foot like lead against the accelerator.

I catch a blur from my right, where there is a gradual hill down into the valley. I'm used to deer and other manner of critter in my woods, so I calmly slam my foot on the brakes. Well, as calmly as one can in a situation like this.

As the creature comes closer into view, I gasp at the distinctly human shape. It doesn't move as I ram right into it, sending its body crumpling right into the windshield and flying straight up over behind me. Even at the reduced speed I'm going, there's no way a human would have survived that.

But then, the disjointed limbs reanimate in my rear view mirror. I jump quickly to my bow and arrow, shoving the driver door open with a speed I didn't know I possessed and send one of my arrows flying straight through the walking corpse's eye. I scan my surroundings for more of the creatures, they usually travel in swarms, like a hive mind and I slip back inside the car. There is no sign of others as I turn the key over to the piece of junk I had borrowed just this morning.

I see a streak of light blond in my peripheral vision. My heart races. I was so certain I had killed that zombie with that arrow straight to the eye.

"Holy Fuck!"

My head jerks back into the headrest as the car splutters to its death.

And then my eyes take in the boy standing in front of my window with a sheepish smile. His hands are deep in his pockets as he shivers in the cold. I roll down the window, happy to see no signs of deteriorating flesh from him.

"Hi."

"Uh, hello."

He looks back at the blonde zombie, her hair limp and pale and her flesh sagging away from her bones.

"That was my mother."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I couldn't kill her myself, so I nudged her in the right direction."

"When was she bitten?"

"Five days ago."

I look down to the chains wrapped around her neck.

"If-" The man looks down at me, hopefully shy. "If you have nowhere to stay, you can come with me Katniss."

The use of my name forces me to inspect him closer and my eyes widen as the recognition dawns on me. I haven't seen that face since middle school. Or was it elementary?

"Peeta?"

His face brightens with a smile. "You remember me?"

"Of course I do. You remember me?"

"I remember everything about you."

My face heats at his sincere candour. The pines around us groan and I push open my door. It sticks with the ice and cold and Peeta helps pull from the outside as well. Soon, I'm free with a quiet thanks to him and I reach the trunk for my hunting bag, my bow and arrow already in hand. I never seem to stop owing my boy with the bread. The boy who saved my life from certain starvation so many years ago. So I try to match his kindness in at least an attempt of some repayment.

"Lead the way?" I gesture with my bow in hand.

We abandon the car, its obvious defects no worth risking out necks out in the open to fix for hours in the cold, exposed to both the weather and the creatures that go bump in the day.

It's not far as Peeta limps his way with a rudimentary wooden crutch to a secluded cabin surrounded by chestnuts, oaks, maples, and pines. The trees offer a good camouflage; the house is well hidden within the leaves and bark. He notices my stare as he looks back at me with a smile for the tenth time, making sure I'm following and safe. That I haven't been left behind. Which would be impossible considering I'm practically breathing down his neck.

"I was bit. My brother had the crazy idea to chop off my leg and somehow it worked."

I don't know how to respond, so I simply don't.

My silence doesn't seem to bother him, as he keeps trudging on through the small clearing we're in, pointing out this bird and that rock or a random squirrel along the way. And then we finally stop before the cabin. It's nice and huge, befitting a family like the Mellark's, who soared into wealth as their bakery became renowned in this part of Appalachia a couple years ago.

It reminds me of my father's cabin, the logs of pine expertly crafted into a cohesive stack, but on a more extreme scale. In fact, that's the very destination I had in mind before I rammed into Peeta's mother. The peace and quiet of my father's cabin, where he taught me how to hunt and fish and swim. To survive. And now, all I have left of my father is his wisdom. It does give me some comfort to know that he didn't have to go through this shit show. That his death happened long before the outbreak, and wasn't marred by his corpse reanimating.

Peeta stomps his boots before the entryway and I follow suit, falling into a routine almost instantly. We toe off our shoes in the mud room. There are no mud prints, or motes of dust in sight. Peeta calls out to someone and I tense, unready for a presence other than him. And then, I hear the bells jingle and hear hooves clopping against the wood floors.

"Lady!" I crouch down and wrap my arms around the goat's neck.

It's been years since I've seen the creature. She was Prim's, and it broke my heart to see her go away when we could no longer sustain a goat in our new apartment. Her hair was in two braids, and she bawled as she put one last pretty pink ribbon on her beloved goat. Tears spring to my eyes too a that memory, and how young and innocent my baby sister was. Her heart was, and is so big.

"I begged my dad to adopt her when I found out you were moving. I wanted to give her back to you guys." He looks around sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck as a blush colours his face. "Sorry it took a few years. So much has happened."

"That's actually—" I smile up at him, scratching the spot between Lady's shoulders that she loves. "—so sweet of you Peeta."

"Is your sister…?"

Lady runs away, happy with her quota of pets for the day, and I hear clomps up the steps to the second floor.

"Alive? Yes, I was going to meet her at our father's cabin. Same with my mother."

He exhales a big breath and reaches out a hand to me. He knows I'm perfectly capable of getting up from my squat alone, but something in me makes me accept the help.

"Hot cocoa? I still have some packs stashed away after all these months."

"Sure." My lips twitch into a soft smile.

My face will surely fall off from all the smiling I seem to be doing today. And it's barely noon.

He leads the way to the kitchen, taking my bag from me and dropping it down near the island. The entire place is open and tall, the beams of pine and cedar reaching high up in the air to almost twenty feet. The large windows on the wall opposite the kitchen offer a breathtaking view of the mountains. My mouth gapes like a fish as I take in the leather couches, the stainless steal fridge, and the kitchen island with a nice stone surface.

Peeta's already at the kettle when I finally take a seat at one of the stools. It swivels and I swing myself side to side as he putters about. My brows furrow at the sight of the cord attached to the kettle, and into an outlet that is clearly working, and then I remember the sight of the massive solar panels on the cabin roof. The water heats up quickly and he pours two cups of the liquid into plain white mugs with the hot cocoa powder. He ushers us into the living room, and we fall into the loveseat. The cushions swallow us and we slide into one another, our legs connecting with a tingling rush of warmth. He begins a speech, jaw set and eyes determined.

"With this whole death of civilisation, or well rebirth, whatever people want to call it these days. I've really sorted my priorities. We've all been forced to." Peeta pauses, licking his soft and plump lips as he looks directly into my eyes. My palms sweat at the eye contact and I regrip my mug with the sleeves of my long shirt. "And well, I uh." His eyes dart to the side and quickly back at me. "I like you Katniss. I have ever since I heard you sing the Valley Song in Kindergarten. Your hair was in two braids instead of one that day and your hand shot straight up when the teacher asked for a volunteer. The birds stopped when you sang, just like with your father." Next, his eyes swoop to the bottom of my braid, a yearning behind them as if he wants to reach out and caress it. "I don't presume to know how you feel, and I don't want to force-"

Impusively, I rush forward to shut him up with a kiss. I don't know what makes me do it, seeing the sentimental side of him with Lady, the way I watched my boy with the bread, my dandelion in the spring through the years before my sister and I moved in with our uncle Haymitch, or the cozy feeling of the snow falling down softly outside around us, with a warm cup of hot cocoa in my hands. But I whisper the words to him that I never even admitted myself. I let myself feel a semblance of happiness that I've forbidden myself from over the years. My chest blossoms with the warmth that overwhelms it and I break away from the kiss. My first one.

"I like you too Peeta."