#wp fic

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

chapter seven — tough cookie

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: reaping day, president sn*w, finnick being a cheeky little shit. lmk if i missed any!

word count: 3.9k

previous part — next part

The months go by in a blur.

Dahlia spends most of her days training for the Quarter Quell — her mornings are spent practising hand-to-hand combat and her afternoons building up a resistance to physical exertion. Juniper pushes them past their limits and it turns out she can be one tough cookie when she puts her mind to it.

The morning of the reaping approaches much too fast for Dahlia's liking. The houses in Victors Village are eerily silent as she yanks an ivory dress over her head.

She's endured twenty-four Reaping Days during her lifetime and she can hand-on-heart say that they never get any easier.

She sits on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands together when someone knocks their fist softly on her door. Juniper toys with the hem of her yellow sundress until Dahlia tells her to come in.

Juniper pads across the floor in her flat shoes and sits beside Dahlia. Dread hangs over their heads like a dark cloud and neither of them speaks for a while.

Finally, Juniper leans her head against Dahlia's shoulder and whispers, "I don't want you to die. You can't die. You're the only person I have left."

She sits up straight again and rustles about in the bedside locker closest to her. She has been sleeping in Dahlia's bed ever since the announcement; neither one of them can stand being alone.

Juniper holds out the palm of her hand to reveal a necklace made out of different coloured seashells. It's held together with a piece of thick string.

"You might already have a token and that's okay, but I made this for you," she takes Dahlia's palm and closes her fingers around the necklace. "I won't be offended if you don't wear it—"

"It's beautiful," Dahlia ties the string around her neck and ignores the way the seashells scratch at her skin. "Thank you."

The sound of heavy footfall meets her ears and she glances over her shoulder to see River approaching her bedroom door. He shoves his hands into his pockets and leans against the doorframe. "I, uh, saw the peacekeepers. They're on their way down here."

Dahlia's relationship with her brother has been strained since he called her a slut. She nods sharply and pushes past River, knocking her should into his as she goes by. She bounds down the stairs and Juniper follows closely behind her.

Her feet barely touch the floor before Ivy wraps her arms around her sister's waist. If this is the last time she ever sees Dahlia, she wants to commit every detail to memory.

As if on cue, someone bangs their fists against the front door. Dahlia looks up to see the crisp white uniforms the Peacekeepers wear through the pane of glass.

She pries Ivy's fingers off her dress and holds her at arm's length. "Listen to me. It's going to be okay. I promise," Dahlia whispers, smiling softly. "Just do what River tells you. I'll see you when I get back."

The Peacekeepers hammer on the door again and Dahlia fights back the quick remark on the tip of her tongue. It would only land her in trouble. She brushes Ivy's hair out of her face and reaches for Juniper's hand before throwing open the front door.

Wyatt stands a short distance behind the armed Peacekeepers lining the driveway of Victors Village. He offers the girls a crooked smile and grabs hold of Juniper's other hand.

The sun is positioned high in the sky and sweat clings to their clammy skin by the time they arrive at the town square.

The Peacekeepers clear a path through the citizens of District Nine and march them up the steps of the Justice Building, where the reaping was to be held.

Malaki stands in the centre of the stage and his neon yellow outfit billows in the wind. He taps the microphone and forces himself to smile through the ache in his chest. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour. As always, ladies first."

He makes his way to the left-hand side of the stage and reaches inside the glass bowl. Two slips of paper float about inside. His fingers graze a slip of paper and he walks back over to the podium.

Dahlia's heart beats against her ribcage like a hummingbird flapping its wings. She holds her breath and squeezes Juniper's hand as Malaki unfolds the piece of paper.

"The female tribute for District Nine... Juniper Sinclair!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" Dahlia's hand flies up on its own accord. Malaki's eyes flutter closed and the faint sound of a shaky sigh can be heard through the microphone.

She takes her place next to him and swallows the lump forming in her throat. The reapings are to be televised later tonight for everybody, including her competitors, to see. The last thing she is going to do is break down.

Malaki composes himself and smiles, looking out into the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have a volunteer! How commendable, especially given that this year is a Quarter Quell. Your female tribute for District Nine is Dahlia Holloway." He clears his throat of any emotion and grips the mic stand until his knuckles turn white. "Now for your male tribute."

He plucks a singular piece of paper from the second glass bowl. "The male tribute from District Nine... Wyatt Riley!"

Mere seconds after Wyatt's name is called, a group of Peacekeepers roughly manhandle them into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers throw them in a train compartment and leave without explaining why they didn't get to say goodbye to their loved ones.

Juniper boards the train and immediately starts pacing the worn-out carpet. She isn't sure exactly when tongue-twisters had become her vocal stim of choice but everyone had grown so used to it that they understood she needed time to calm down.

"Why don't you go down to your room for a little while? I'll call you when dinner's ready," Dahlia says. Juniper manoeuvres around Malaki on her way to find a quiet place to decompress.

Malaki opens his mouth as if he is going to say something. No words come out and after a couple of beats of silence, he accepts defeat and slumps to the floor by the train doors, cradling his head in his hands.

Dahlia wants to move, to comfort him and tell him that she has made peace with her fate, but she can not find the words.

Wyatt begins to nod off in the corner of the sofa and she reaches for the remote to flick through the re-runs of the reapings.

If she wants a chance at surviving this thing, she should know who she will be going to be up against.

Cashmere and Gloss from District One are going to be big competitors. It might be worth allying with them

Beetee and Wiress could be useful ——— they're smart. Beetee won his games by electrocuting six people at once.

Annie Cresta, a fragile and hysterical young girl, is chosen from Four before Mags volunteers to take her place. Finnick will be going back into the arena, too, but she hadn't expected anything less.

Put it this way, it wasn't a coincidence that the both of them were reaped. President Snow knows damn well that Dahlia would volunteer to spare Juniper from going back into the arena.

Johanna Mason is a force to be reckoned with, too. She isn't as innocent as she looks—— she won her games by pretending to be weak and killing the remaining tributes at the last possible second.

District Eight reaps a mother who has to peel her three children off of her. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark will be joining them in the arena but that doesn't come as a surprise to anyone.

The competition will be hard to beat this year. She's grateful for Juniper pushing them as hard as she did over the spring.

Nobody has much to say over lunch. Wyatt scoffs down dish after dish and drinks himself silly until two Avoxes carry him down to his room, patting his arm sympathetically when he sobs into their shoulders.

Juniper nibbles on plain toast and sips a hot chocolate before eventually retreating to her room to get some shut-eye.

Malaki has somewhat pulled himself together by the time mint-chocolate ice cream is served. His voice is thick with emotion as he says, "I'm sorry, you do know that, right?"

Dahlia meets his eye across the table and carefully reaches for his hand. She intertwines their fingers together. "You've done more than enough to help me over the years. Everybody has. I think it's about time I return the favour."

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, darling."

Night has fallen by the time they arrive at the new Training Centre; it towers over the other buildings, standing twelve stories high.

It's clear that President Snow pulled out all the stops this year and it makes her wonder if he had planned the Quarter Quell from the very beginning. She wouldn't put it past him.

A glass elevator brings them to their living quarters on the ninth floor, where a group of Avoxes have begun setting the table for their evening meal.

Wyatt has slept off his alcohol-induced sadness and is in high spirits. He launches himself onto an orange beanbag and snags a flask of champagne from the countertop. "To death," he laughs and toasts his glass in the air before downing the lot.

Malaki clears his throat awkwardly and takes a seat at the dining table. It's obvious he hasn't been this far out of his comfort zone in a long time.

Juniper had guzzled down three more hot chocolates on the train and is bouncing off the walls. She almost pulls Dahlia's arm out of its socket in her haste to get to the food.

Avoxes ladle thick carrot soup into their bowls before handing out plates of roasted ham and rice. A blackberry pie is passed around for dessert.

Juniper licks her plate clean and asks an Avox to fetch her paper and a pen in a sweet voice. "So, I was thinking—"

"Uh oh."

Dahlia kicks Wyatt under the table. He winces and mimics zipping his mouth shut.

Juniper drums her fingers against the grand oak table as she thinks. "You need allies, right? I'm gonna assume that you two are sticking together." The tributes nod and she scribbles something onto the wad of paper. "Finnick and Mags are an obvious choice — I mean, the old lady may slow you down a bit, but he's not going to leave her. Besides, allying with them will get you more sponsors."

"How?" Malaki saws his fork through a large piece of pie.

Juniper scans her notes and chews the end of the pen. "I mean, think about it. Dahlia and Finnick have been on the front page for the last four months. People are invested in their relationship. It's the perfect opportunity to gain sponsors."

"All they have to do is fight side by side and share a few sweet moments in the arena and Panem will eat it up. That's our advantage!" exclaims Juniper.

Wyatt leans forward in the beanbag and stabs a spoon in her direction. "Juniper, I never thought I'd be saying these words, but you are a genius. I don't even have to do anything!"

He plants a kiss on Dahlia's cheek and she scowls, swatting him away with her hand. He throws his head back in a laugh and bids everyone goodnight before leaving to claim the biggest bedroom in their living quarters.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

District Nine's stylists arrive at the Training Centre bright and early the next morning. Forrest, who has bushy eyebrows and uneven facial features, has been Wyatt's stylist since he volunteered during the sixty-sixth Hunger Games.

Forrest takes his time drinking a glass of champagne as if he doesn't have a care in the world regarding the tight schedule they are on.

Bloom, on the other hand, is a woman on a mission. She's typically an independent worker, but she has brought four assistants to help get Dahlia ready for the tribute parade that evening.

It turns out she isn't the only one cracking under the pressure.

Dahlia isn't given a chance to wake up and she's still half-asleep as someone glosses a nail varnish over her fingernails. She sits in front of the vanity and watches Bloom pull a straightening iron through her hair. "What outfit have you pulled out of thin air this time, I wonder?"

Her hair sizzles in the straightener and a soft smile plays on Bloom's lips. "You'll see," she evades the question with ease. Being Capitol means being born with the ability to avoid any topic in the history of mankind and she is no exception. "Just trust me. It'll be a showstopper, darling."

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

Her dark hair ends up being pulled back into a French twist with glittery hairpieces weaved into it. A few strands are left loose to frame her face and once she moves onto her makeup, Dahlia feels a shift in the atmosphere.

Everything has all of a sudden become very real.

Part of her wants to believe this is a horrible nightmare that she'll wake up from in a matter of minutes. The logical part of her brain knows better.

Yesterday was the last day she would step foot in her house. There would be no more train journeys to and from the Capitol. No more holidays or birthdays, winters or summers, sunrises or sunsets. This was it. She is going to die in that arena. Sooner or later, she has to come to terms with that, but for now, she has to stay focused.

Bloom dips her thumb into a pot of purple glitter and drags it across her eyelids before flicking her lashes out with a wand of mascara. She runs over her lips with a tube of gloss and attaches a pair of heavy silver hearts to her ears.

Her feet are crammed into a pair of high-heeled leather boots and Bloom finally reveals the outfit she will be wearing to the tribute parade.

It was a tight-fitted gold dress with a slit down the middle. It showcased her curves and just the right amount of cleavage to get her sponsors. The top half is fluffed into feathers and in the correct light, it looks like wheat harvested straight from the fields of District Nine.

Dahlia runs her fingers over it in awe as her stylist watches with bated breath. "I love it, Bloom. Thank you."

Bloom pulls the dress off the rack. Her assistants huddle around Dahlia, stripping her out of her bathrobe and helping her fit into the gown.

As her body begins to be moulded into the shape of the dress, she can see the cars pulling up outside of the Training Centre to take them to the Tribute Parade.

As if he has a sixth sense about this kind of thing, Malaki bursts through the door wearing a neon pink outfit that makes her head spin. "Oh, you look outstanding, darling! Are you ready to leave? We don't want to be late," he splays his hands across his hips.

Dahlia moves in front of the vanity as she ties the string of seashells around her neck. Bloom frowns disapprovingly but doesn't say anything.

In the glass elevator, the floors fly past so quickly that Dahlia soon feels queasy. It's a blessing in itself when they step into the lobby of the Training Centre.

Malaki gets roped into a conversation with Haymitch Abernathy and Dahlia doesn't stay around to find out what it's about.

Outside, Peacekeepers hold back reporters who are desperately trying to get tributes and mentors alike to answer their questions. Dahlia steps into the sunlight, and a camera crew from Capitol News ambush her halfway to her car. The rest of the reporters followed the flock.

"We meet again, The Angel of Death," Alistair D'Ettord grins and shoves a mic in her face. "Did you volunteer to go back into the Hunger Games for the glory? How many tributes do you plan on killing this year?" Alistair eagerly motions for his camera crew to zoom in on her face.

Dahlia stands like a deer in headlights as blood seeps through her fingertips. She wipes her hands on her dress and tries to block out the sound of the cannon firing one, two, five, nine, thirteen times. "As many as I have to," she smiles sweetly and struts away without sparing him another glance.

She weaves her way through the crowds and spots Wyatt standing by their car. He's tailored in a crisp gold suit that shimmers in the sun; it's simple but effective. He spots her in the crowd and a smile spreads across his face. He gives her a boost into the car and jumps in beside her.

"Wyatt Riley, where've you been hiding this little number?" she teases, wiggling her pointer finger up and down as the driver pulls into the main lane of traffic.

"I could ask you the same question," he raises a dark brow and vaguely gestures to her dress. "Bloom's a credit. She outdid herself again this year."

The driver pulls into an enclosed part of the Remake Centre, where their chariots lay in wait. Many of the tributes and mentors are already deep in conversation when they arrive, and as their car rolls to a stop, Wyatt helps her out before leaving to find Juniper.

Dahlia sets her feet on the uneven floor and finds the chariot marked with a number nine. Stroking the white horses, she feeds one a sugar cube and runs her hands through its mane. She's in a world of her own and doesn't hear someone calling her name until they are a few feet away from her.

Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen saunter over, dressed in matching black outfits. Peeta smiles at her but she doesn't return the sentiment, too focused on sizing the pair up. "Dahlia, right?" He sounds older than he is and it's hard to believe he has just turned seventeen. She nods and goes back to stroking the horses. "It's nice to finally meet you in person. We've heard a lot about you."

Katniss lingers nervously behind him and tries to get a feel for what kind of person she is. Peeta on the other hand, is more friendly and he extends a hand for her to shake. "I think what you did was really quite brave; volunteering for that younger girl," he says softly.

Dahlia keeps her eyes trained on the horses. "Well, it was the right thing to do." She doesn't like everyone treating her like some kind of hero. "I mean, you volunteered for Haymitch. That's pretty damn brave if you ask me."

Peeta murmurs a few words of agreement and ducks his head with a small smile. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick approaching. "We should probably get going," Peeta turns back to Dahlia. "It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she smooths her fingers through the horse's mane and turns away from the teenagers. A familiar voice called her name and she glances over her shoulder, eyes locking with Finnicks sea-green irises. "What do you want?" she deadpans.

Her snappiness doesn't deter Finnick and she begins to wonder if anything ever will. "I missed you too, honey. Sugar cube?" She plucks a piece of white sugar from his open palm and pops it into her mouth. "It's meant to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar but you and I... well, our impending deaths are just around the riverbend."

Dahlia's lips quirk into a smile and she ducks her head to hide it. She's grown to appreciate his warped sense of humour, perhaps because it matches her own. "You know, that may be the smartest thing I've heard you say since I met you. I didn't think you had it in you."

Finnick sucks his teeth and clutches at his heart. "You wound me, love." The colour rushes to her face and he takes a taunting step forward. "Do I make you nervous, honey?"

Dahlia's brain just about short-circuits at that. He's standing so close that she can smell the salt air that clings to his skin.

A sudden surge of confidence bursts through her as she sees other tributes with their attention trained on them.

She closes the gap between them, snaking her arms around his neck and leaning in until her teeth graze the shell of his ear. "Play along," she whispers, pulling back and firmly planting her lips on his own.

Finnick's taken aback by her boldness but it doesn't take him long to follow her lead. He pulls away and blinks incredulously at the smug smile she wears. "I didn't think you had it in you," he chuckles, using her own words against her.

"Break it up lovebirds!" Wyatt hollers, holding onto Juniper's hand tightly. Their younger counterpart has a habit of running off if she isn't tethered to somebody.

Juniper wrestles her wrist out of his grip and flaps her hands excitedly as she makes a b-line for the white horses at District Nine's chariot. She gently pats the horse's neck. "Do you think we could get a horse when we go home, Lia?"

Dahlia's heart flips in her chest at the mention of home. Finnick reaches down and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sure, June. Why don't you write to Ivy and run the idea by her?" she suggests.

Juniper nods before standing up straight and leaning in so that no one can overhear them. "I can't work out if you two are really together or not—" she whispers, "—but if you hurt her, I'll cut off your balls and turn them into a pair of maracas. Got it?"

"Got it," Finnick agrees, fixing her with an amused look. Backstage assistants let them know that there are five minutes until showtime and once Dahlia is settled in the back of the chariot, he leaves to assist Mags.

Dahlia sucks in a deep breath, palms damp with sweat. Wyatt keeps cracking god-awful jokes and she welcomes the distraction.

District One's chariot leads the way into the Parade Centre and as they begin to move, Wyatt interlinks their fingers together, trying to help her maintain some balance in the high-heeled boots. The sunlight is blinding and the audience stretches on for miles.

People in the stands wave signs of support and point at their favourite tributes that pass by. Her hearing has always been impeccable and if the crowd was anything to go by, she and Finnick were fan favourites this year.

Their white horses loop around the city circle and stop outside President Snow's mansion. He stands on a platform, dressed in a red suit and clasping a glass of wine in his withered hands.

Panem's national anthem sounds through the overhead speakers. As they travel around the bend of the city circle for the final time, Dahlia locks eyes with Snow and refuses to break his gaze until he's a dot in the sea of people.

[dcangel]

I’m barking!!?? Hello??

[mikashisus]

was thinking abt posting one of my eren fics here bc it’s already finished, but then i would have to post the prequel (which isnt finished) 🫠

i mean i technically could post it, maybe it would motivate me to finish this fic that ive been working almost 4 fucking years on.

[andreal831]

“Do not confuse my presence here with friendship. I am only here to make sure this works for Elijah. I don’t care if you live or die.”

[runningfrom2am]

top 2 on wattpad rankings is making me feel more powerful than it should

but anyways here’s my wp if yall want it??

runningfrom2am on wp

and lmk over there if you came from tumblr!!

[seumyo]

i hv a gift for u

... Sen, THIS IS REVOLUTIONARY I’M HOOKED. I’M SAT. I’M ALL EARS !! Bakugou Katsuki from the seneon? I’m fulfilled 🙂‍↕️

Teehee, I also have one for you too 💗

[korraofthereef]

I have yet to come across an actually good well written grammatically correct Bucky Barnes fanfiction on Wattpad.

Plz I need recs that actually have a romance plot and don’t just copy the dialogue of the movies and insert their own character into the plot with like 0 scenes with Bucky.

[awrkive]

chapter 10 of nb is out on wp!

[liviacardew]

my capitol oc!

introducing....

daphne lysander!

so, i'm currently writing a fic on wattpad, and daphne lysander (jessica alexander) is my oc!

her love interest is festus creed!

here's some information about her:

her father and festus' father have a rivalry.

she has an older sister named anemone (phoebe dynevor), and older brother named florian (jeremy irvin), and two younger twin siblings; hyacinth (florence hunt) and cyprian (will tilston)

her mother died giving birth to cyprian and hyacinth, when daphne was only five. her father remarried, and got married to lucilla montclair.

her father is the minister of health and he's very dedicated to his job. even if it means neglecting his children.

she was the mentor for mizzen.

she, livia cardew, and vipsania sickle are a trio.

she's also close friends with felix ravinstill and hilarius heavensbee.

her nickname is 'daff' <3

fic: we know everything everything about us by @vipsaniasickle on wp!

[silverflqmes]

𓍯 ྂ⑅ 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 !

notes. i feel the need to address things before anyone uhh reading this decides to continue but anyway. this is for my own self indulgence and enjoyment — i mean, it’s called a self ship for a reason.. so if you’re not comfy and don’t like this — don’t interact. block the tag, scroll, whtvr you gotta do. nobody’s forcing you to read. anyways without further ado, toorellie<3

━ 𖤐 ៸៸ SHUFFLING.. dynamics.

flirtatious x easily ( angrily ) flustered . extrovert x introvert . best friends to lovers . childhood friends to lovers . talks a lot x listens . god x worshipper . work of art x artist . mutual pining . anakin x padmé . sunshine x midnight rain . royalty x knight . tease x tsundere . confident tall bf x short feral gf

━ 𖤐 ៸៸ SHUFFLING.. us core.

hugs from behind, hand holding, using his thighs as a pillow, playing with each other’s hair, trolling one another in games, planetarium dates, dragging him to the bookstore + spoiling her with books, coffee dates, giving him flowers, kissing the back of his hand, cuddling on the couch, forehead + top of the head kisses, spinny hugs, comparing hand sizes, helping him practice his sets, proofreading her stories, lulling her to sleep by reading, self care nights, stealing and wearing his clothes, teaching each other their native languages, singing and listening to taylor swift, openly simping on main for him, words of affirmation, watching star wars, treating his injuries.

━ 𖤐 ៸៸ SHUFFLING.. tracklist.

falling in love with tooru? ah. it went a little something like this.

━ 𖤐 ៸៸ SHUFFLING.. oikosterone.

the slow burn of confessing to tooru in a slice of life format, all whilst following seijoh’s pov of haikyuu, instead of karasuno<3

notes. oh, so you stuck around? welp this is just a little self indulgence cause in two days it’ll mark four years since i’ve got into haikyuu on february twentieth<3 anything toorellie related will be tagged with — ; 🏹 ) toorellie. not that it will be much but yeah :’)

[luvkyu]

I think we should abolish schools or something... idk

agree. or like let people choose if they wanna continue their education cause school ruined me idk about u guys

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

Chapter Six — sex for secrets

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: forced sex work, dissociation + an autistic meltdown, slut shaming, wyatt being a better brother to dahlia even though they’re not actually related. if there’s anything else just lmk!

word count: 3.5k

previous part — next part

Dahlia set her plan into action and changed her form of payment that very evening. Most of her clients were head gamemakers or people who held a position of influence in the Capitol, which gave her a perfect opportunity to gather information on their beloved president and use it to her advantage.

Instead of being paid in cash, she chose to exchange sex for secrets.

She burned through her list of clients in fourteen days and before she knew it, she was on the train back to district nine. Malaki accompanied her on the journey home and flaunted a newspaper in front of her face.

She and Finnick had made the front page for two consecutive weeks. The paparazzi were having a field day with the story. Pictures of them had been circulating the whole of Panem and Caeser Flickerman had been hounding them for an interview since they spoke to Capitol News.

The plan seemed to be working so far and although being in the spotlight would surely make her episodes more frequent, it was a cross she would have to bear if it meant everybody she loved was out of harm's way.

Over breakfast, Malaki joked about how Bloom was growing more popular as the days went by. Dahlia polished off a bottle of fizzy lemonade before excusing herself from the table and retreating to her room on the train.

Dahlia waited for the heavy metal door to clunk closed behind her before she pulled off her slippers and sat on the edge of the bed. It was always difficult to tell what was real and what wasn't when she was on the train. She supposed it was because of all the bad memories she associated with it.

Either way, it would take seven hours to arrive home, and sleeping was the best solution to her problems. She curled up under the thick duvet and silk sheets, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

As six o'clock rolled around and they grew closer to home, Malaki opened the blinds to let the remaining slivers of evening light into her room before shaking her awake. "Wake up!" he beamed, tugging the duvet down to the end of the bed. She tossed about in protest and groaned into her hands. "Come on, I bet Juniper's dying to hear the gossip first-hand."

Dahlia muttered a muffled string of curses into her elbows before pulling herself up. She wrapped a beige cardigan around her and slid on her slippers as Malaki wheeled her black suitcase out into the hallway.

Although Bloom was an outstanding stylist, she couldn't help but feel grateful to dress in her own clothes again.

As the train pulled into the station and slowed to a gradual halt, Dahlia made her way down the carriage, waiting for the automatic doors to swing open. Fresh air filled her lungs as she hopped onto the platform and wearily offered her thanks to Malaki for hauling her suitcase down the steps.

A sad sigh escaped his lips as he scanned her face, looking for any sign that she was going to retreat into that hazy other world. This time around, they might not get her back, and that thought terrified him. "Darling, are you sure you're going to be okay?" he asked gently, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge that he had even asked a question.

Dahlia didn't blame him for being worried —the dark circles under her eyes did little to plead her case—but if she were to answer that question honestly, he wouldn't like what he heard.

The last thing she wanted to do was add to his worries, so instead of telling him the truth, she plastered a smile on her face. "Don't worry about me. It's Bloom you should be checking on — her fingers are probably bleeding from all the sewing," she joked, doing her best to swerve the question altogether.

Malaki had always been able to see through her lies and she half expected a lecture but he didnt press her for the truth. He was probably exhausted (it had been a long couple of days, after all). "Alright, if you are sure," he ran a hand through his hair, his golden rings getting caught in his dark curls. "If you need me—"

"I know," she cut him off kindly. "I'll call if I feel like throttling any reporters," she smiled. The phones in Victor Village only worked half the time but she chose to keep that piece of information to herself. He grinned, and she resisted the urge to flinch at how blinding his teeth were.

The train engine spluttered into life again and she gestured to the closest compartment. "Go on. Don't miss the train. I wouldn't want you getting stranded here, not without any skincare products," she teased, tightening her hold on the handle of her suitcase for something to remind her that this was real.

He chuckled under his breath, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder before catching himself and letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Call me if you need to!" he hopped up the steps to the train and waved through the windows until the surroundings blurred and she was a tiny dot on the platform.

Dahlia huffed out a breath of relief and rubbed at the ache in her chest. It was always easier to breathe when she didn't have reminders of the Capitol around her, even if she did have a soft spot for her escort.

The sun was beginning to set and although the warm light beat down against the nape of her neck, it did little to stop her from shivering.

She was tired of being cold all the time. It made it that much harder to stay in this world.

She tilted her suitcase up onto its back wheels, pulling it along the gravel as she headed for the small cottages in Victor village. The sooner she got home, the sooner she would be able to bribe River into gathering firewood.

She trekked up the familiar path to her house, noticing that someone had been watering her forget-me-nots. "Something smells nice," she announced, abandoning her suitcase in the entryway and preparing for impact.

As if on cue, Juniper deserted her post at the stove, dropping the wooden spoon back into the bowl and hurling herself towards Dahlia.

For someone who weighed fifteen pounds soaked through, Juniper always managed to knock the wind out of anyone she hugged.

"Oh my god, tell us everything! Is the news true? Are you actually going out with Finnick O'Dair?" Juniper squeaked, untangling her arms from around Dahlia's waist and holding her at arm's length. "I can't believe you never wrote me back! I've been dying here!"

Dahlia laughed, kindly shrugging off Juniper's touch and manoeuvring her way around the young girl. June had never been one to give up easily, though, and questions kept tumbling from her lips as she followed her into the kitchen.

Recent events were still weighing heavily on Dahlia's mind and her patience was beginning to wear thin as she sat cross-legged on a countertop. "June, I'll tell you everything over dinner, okay?" she grabbed the blonde's hands in her own.

Juniper nodded earnestly and started violently stirring the stew in the pot, adding in dashes of spices whenever she deemed necessary. She was clearly trying to get dinner on the table because the quicker they all sat down together, the quicker she'd get answers.

Ivy handed over the wooden spoon and pushed onto her tippy-toes to reach for tomatoes in the cupboard above Dahlia's head.

Ivy had always been considered the beautiful one in the family and her older sister couldn't agree more. That was part of the reason she had agreed to Snow's demands — there was no doubt in her mind that if she had refused, the president would've enlisted her sister into sex work at the tender age of nine.

He wouldn't have thought twice about it. He would not have even blinked.

Ivy was all skin and bone with cheekbones that could easily cut through glass. Her hair was black and had fallen out in parts from too much stress, but it covered her face like a curtain, and it wasn't noticeable from afar. Her eyes were by far her best feature —they were alluring, captivating, almost, and they spoke a million words. You never knew who Ivy was, not really, and that was something the Capitol would eat up.

"Is River out harvesting?" Dahlia covered her knuckles with the sleeves of her cardigan. Ivy didn't answer but a noise of agreement got caught in the back of her throat. "Does he know about Finnick?"

Ivy sauntered back to the stove with a sour expression, as if to say 'You bet he does — and he's not happy, either.'

Dahlia ran her tongue over her teeth, listening to the meat sizzle in the pot as her two mini-chefs expertly worked their way around the kitchen. She'd have to find some way to make it up to the girls; listening to River ran and rave for the last two weeks must have been torturous.

Juniper was true to her word and didn't ask about anything until they were sitting down at the table for dinner. "How long have you been seeing your fancy man for then, young lady?" she scooped generous servings of stew into their bowls and sat beside Ivy, impatiently rocking back and forth.

Dahlia desperately wracked her brain for an answer that would satisfy the girls; Ivy could sniff out a lie in milliseconds and Juniper would keep probing for the nitty-gritty details until she was satisfied, which made it incredibly difficult not to tell the truth.

She shoved a spoonful of stew into her mouth to buy herself some time. "We've been seeing each other for a couple of months," she said carefully. "We managed to keep it private for a while but someone walked in on us at a gala."

"What, they caught you having sex?" Juniper blurted out, eyes bulging out of their sockets as her fork clattered to the floor loudly.

"June!" she scolded, all the heat rushing to her face at the insinuation. She brushed back a few fly-away strands of hair and shook her head incredulously. Sometimes she forgot how little of a filter that girl had (which, admittedly, was rich coming from her —talk about the pot calling the kettle). "No, nothing like that. We were just hanging out in the garden and people started speculating, that's all," she insisted.

Ivy eyed her sister curiously. Maybe they hadn't been screwing, as June had so blatantly put it, but there had to be some fragment of truth to what the reporters were saying. She didn't care enough to ask, and the question wouldn't have left her head anyway, so she went back to picking at her food.

"What's Finnick like? Is he nice?" Juniper held her hands up in surrender as Dahlia glared in her direction. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger!"

Dahlia glanced out the window behind Juniper's head. The moon was already out and it was starting to get dark, which meant River would be home soon. Sliding out of her chair, she let the girls split whatever was left of her stew. "You can give me your character analysis when you meet him. I'm sure the two of you'll make a trip to the Capitol at some point or another."

Juniper jumped into a new line of questioning as Ivy took advantage of her opportunity and swiped a few tomato chunks from her older sister's bowl.

Dahlia chewed the inside of her cheek in an attempt to keep her temper in check. Hiding her distaste for the Capitol had worn her out but she refused to take it out on the girls. "Will you two be okay if I go to bed? I've got a migraine."

Juniper nodded sympathetically and anxiously tugged on her heart-shaped earrings. There was a silent understanding shared between the two. Dahlia liked to think that she shielded her victor from all of the terrible things life had to offer, but truthfully, they just never spoke about it.

Dahlia snagged a bottle of water from the fridge, fondly ruffling the girls' hair as she passed by and made a beeline for the staircase.

Her suitcase belted loudly against the steps as she carted it up to her room and shoved it underneath her bed. Out of sight, out of mind and all that jazz —in other words, she would likely forget it existed until Bloom showed up on her doorstep to whisk her away again.

She stripped out of her dirty clothes and heaped them together in the corner before tearing her chest of drawers apart for pyjamas. She stepped into polka-dotted bottoms and yanked a fleece over her head, running a brush through her hair for good measure.

Once the curtains were closed and her salt lamp was emitting an orange glow in the corner of the room, she wrapped herself in her duvet like a butterfly that was desperately afraid to leave its cocoon.

Worry ate away at her insides as she tossed and turned for hours on end, falling into the deep depths of sleep long after everybody else in the house had retreated to bed.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

Dahlia had been burning a hole in the living room carpet since she woke up. Her teeth tore away at the skin around her fingernails.

River had roped everybody into a mother's meeting and had swapped his usual work shift for the evening one. He had been scoffing under his breath, making a big song and dance about the whole situation until Ivy pushed him out the back door and locked him out.

Dahlia had been this close to ripping his head off and she was thankful that her sister had stepped in. The last thing she needed to deal with today was his inflated ego. He stropped off to the market to get some food and she hoped he would be calmer by the time he came back.

Juniper and Ivy were perched in the windowsill like two cats, their knees pressed up to their chests as they talked amongst themselves — well, as Juniper talked and Ivy listened.

Wyatt sat at the kitchen table, hands cupped around a steaming mug of coffee as he fought to keep his eyes open. At least she wasn't the only one running on empty this morning.

Letting out a frustrated groan, she collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, holding her head in her hands. She found comfort in sitting with Wyatt. He didn't ask questions or hound her for details or tell her what to do. He just smiled tiredly and sipped his coffee like it was any other morning.

A burst of gratitude swept over her at how easy it was for him to adapt to his surroundings. She often said he was like a chameleon, changing forms and personas depending on who he was surrounded by, and she supposed that was something they had in common.

It was eleven o'clock when Juniper fell out of the windowsill, landing with a thump on the floor and loudly announcing that River was coming back.

Dahlia wiped her clammy palms into her blue jeans and rested her hand on her abdomen to regulate her breathing. Wyatt poured the dregs of his coffee down the sink and inched his chair closer to Dahlia's. He would no doubt be playing referee between the older siblings.

River crept his way back into the house, his arms folded over his chest like a child throwing a temper tantrum. He set the bag of food down on the table and sat opposite his sister. The girls were quick to follow suit, standing behind Dahlia's chair like a firing squad.

He propped his head up with his hands and sighed. "I know you're not going out with Finnick but what I don't understand is why you insist on entertaining the rumours. They're painting you out to be a slut and you're letting it happen," he spat.

Juniper knew that Dahlia would retreat into her own head if given the opportunity. She traced shapes into the older girl's skin to keep her tied to this reality.

Wyatt's eyes rapidly darkened and he clenched his fists in his lap. "Watch your tongue," he warned. His voice was raspy and he leaned forward in his chair. "Call her that again and see what fucking happens." He stood to his feet and River followed suit, towering over the victor.

Before either of them had a chance to start fighting in the middle of the kitchen, a hologram on the telly began to fizzle into focus. The Capitol anthem rang out, bouncing off the walls of the house.

President Snow took the stage and as the anthem ended, he began to speak about the Dark Days.

Dahlia's feet were moving on autopilot as she walked into the living room and collapsed on the sofa in front of the hologram. Everyone else was quick to follow and the tension between River and Wyatt was quick to dissipate.

Juniper sat at her feet and clutched her hand like a vice, eyes glued to the screen. "It must be the card reading," June whispered. "They announce the twist a couple of months before the games begin. That must be what it is, right?"

Dahlia's face was paling as the seconds ticked by. President Snow pulled an envelope from a wooden box and began to read from the card.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them can not overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors!"

Dahlia keeled forward off the couch, landing on her knees as a scream clawed its way out of her throat.

She slipped away after that, and the feeling of being gently rocked back and forth was what brought her back to reality.

She was cradled in somebody's arms and the smell of pine told her that it was Ivy. She pried her eyes open.

The hologram had disappeared and the evening light blinded her. She didn't remember getting to the lake but gaps in her memory was normal when her brain was working in overdrive.

Ivy quietly shushed her and pushed back the damp strands of hair stuck to her temple. "I can't go back there. I can't do it," she sobbed.

Dahlia lay her head in Ivy's lap and the younger girl threaded her fingers through the knots in her hair just as their mother had done when they were kids.

There was a chill in the air as Ivy brushed the sand off her kneecaps and led Dahlia back to the house, keeping a firm hold of her hand in case she broke free and started to run.

As they neared Victor's Village, Dahlia could hear a wailing sound that was no doubt coming from her female counterpart in the reaping. Her feet were moving on autopilot as she slipped in the back door.

River had backed himself into a corner and was watching nervously as Juniper scratched at the skin on her arms. Wyatt was sat on the floor beside her, yet he maintained his distance in case it escalated the situation.

Ivy dimmed the lights and kicked River and Wyatt onto the porch. The last thing June needed was an audience.

Dahlia crouched down in front of her. "June, it's just me. I know you're probably struggling to understand what is happening and why it's happening and that's alright. It's okay to be scared and confused because I am here to help. Do you want me to explain what's going to happen?"

Juniper hummed under her breath and flapped her hands as she tried to break apart what Dahlia was saying. Once she could understand what was being said, she nodded anxiously.

"There's three months until the reaping so that gives Wyatt and I plenty of time to get back into shape before the games. We're gonna train like careers and you're gonna be our coach! I need you to listen carefully to this next part, okay?"

Juniper continued humming but she pried her eyes open a fraction of an inch.

"I'm going back into the games. Me. Not you. I love you but I will never forgive you if you volunteer. Do you understand?" she warned, gently brushing away the tears rolling down her warm cheeks.

Juniper sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Promise me you'll come back. Promise me."

Dahlia swallowed the lump in her throat. It was hard to lie to Juniper— it was like kicking a puppy when it was already down. "I promise."

[mikashisus]

i love all my fics dearly, but now and then i think about that one nagi fic i started writing and never finished…

i might move it over here tbh.. maybe it’ll motivate me to finish it. it was partial smau too and it was mostly fluff (shocking ik, all my fics have angst)

so uh.. expect a nagi fic soon then ig! 🫡

[andreal831]

My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

[problematic-camren]

my longest TIAC chapter yet.

[leafington]

mmm enemies to lovers with nanami...