there are worse games to play | part six
Summary: Unable to fix your slip up, you confide in Mags about your situation. At the end of the week, Finnick returns from the Capitol and you two share a moment.
A/N: I've found my love for writing reignited because of this series and I couldn't be happier that y'all are enjoying this project of mine :) Also, I know Mags is becoming a bit OC, but I personally feel like Mags has more of a sassy side that we never truly got to see in the original series (SOTR did give us a better imagining of her character -- also that book DESTROYED me, so there's that). I also feel like she would fully be aware of what was actually happening to victors in the Capitol, whether she experienced it herself or not. Just my take on it! I hope y'all enjoy this next installment :)
FYI -- afab!chubby!reader in mind for this one
Mags' writing stares back at you from the pad on the table.
How in the hell do you know about that? Who are you?
How do you even begin to explain things to her without her calling you crazy? "Oh hey Mags, by the way, I'm not actually from District Nine but from a separate universe where you're not real but rather a character in a book series that I love. And somehow I ended up in the series with you, and now I'm stuck here for the foreseeable future." You mentally shake your head at yourself because it sounds so far fetched even for you.
A different, more concerning thought enters your mind. Shit, what if she thinks I was sent by Snow or something from the Capitol? Your stomach sinks at the very idea of Mags - sweet, wonderful Mags - thinking that you've been sent to spy on them or pass information back to President Snow about the Victors from Four.
It's not the craziest idea and honestly, if you were in her position and having her background as a resident of Panem, you'd believe it more than the ridiculous concoction you created.
Move over, Wiress, I might take your title of "Nuts" after this conversation.
While you've been gathering your thoughts, Mags has been sitting and watching you, her body remaining tense and coiled as if ready to fight. Granted, with all of what she's had to go through in her lifetime, you don't blame her for being on edge regardless of her being in the comfort of her (the Capitol's) own home.
Her brown eyes stay guarded as you try to gather yourself to give her a well-deserved response.
"I... Mags, I want you to know first and foremost that I never intended for any of this to happen. Hell, I still don't know how it even happened. But, I know that there's crazier stuff that happens here in Panem, so I'm hoping you'll hear me out." You wait for some kind of acknowledgement from her, not wanting to say anything else just yet. She considers your words before offering the slightest head nod.
You let out a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding, "Okay, sweet. Uh, where do I even begin?" A weak laugh leaves your lips, your nerves flaring up as you realize this is it. This is the moment where your truth gets revealed, after a month of living with Mags and getting to experience District Four.
And getting to meet Finnick, your brain traitorously reminds you.
You start describing everything to the best of your abilities to Mags, starting from when you fell asleep watching Catching Fire to waking up on the beach and meeting her. You reiterate that you had no idea something like this was possible - traveling to a different universe, living in a multiverse reality - none of that seemed feasible to your understanding in your world.
You finish up by acknowledging her first question, "As for knowing what happens to Finnick and other Victors when they're in the Capitol... I read about it in the third book. Finnick reveals everything as a sort of distraction via the broadcasting system while rebel forces were trying to complete a rescue mission in the Capitol for some of the Victors that got left behind in the Arena during the last Quarter Quell."
Mags eyebrows furrow at that, no doubt thinking about how long it's been since the last Quell. You never got around to asking them about what number Games were happening this year, even though you've had plenty of time to do so. You just figured it was somewhere close to the 70th Games as Finnick seemed older than his 14-year-old self when he won during the 65th Games.
God, I can't believe I never asked about that! That would've been helpful in terms of telling where I'm at in the timeline. You mentally scold your past self for not doing that. Well, at least she seems willing to discuss this all with me. She hasn't kicked me out... yet.
A few minutes tick by as Mags seems to contemplate her next move. You wouldn't be shocked if she kicked you out - rationally, it's the most logical response to everything you just told her. You just hope, with everything in you, that she'll give you a chance given the world she lives in.
Eventually, she reaches over and grabs her notepad and pen once more. She jumps down a few lines and starts writing something out, stops, then scribbles over it to restart. You crack a small smile at that, considering all the times you did that in school when you took notes with a pen instead of a pencil.
Soon enough, she slides the pad your way. You grab it and scan over her words quickly, wanting to put an end to the never-ending dread that's existed within you the past four weeks.
How did Okay. So, hypothetically speaking, if your story is true, you're truly stuck here? You don't have a way to get back?
You look up to find her already watching you, her eyes seeming to have softened some as she's thought everything over a bit more. You give her a sad smile, shaking your head before speaking.
"Yeah... it seems like I'm sort of stuck here indefinitely for now. I haven't even given it any thought because realistically speaking, I have no background in anything related to that branch of science, so I don't even know where to begin."
She nods a bit before reaching out for the pad once more. You dutifully slide it back. She writes slowly, taking the time to think things over, before she's done.
Have you told anyone else about all of this?
A brief flash of panic strikes through you at the thought of telling anyone else, especially Finnick. Given how vehemently he was against you staying in the first place and how weird he's been around you, all it would take is one whiff of your story and there's no doubt that he'd instantly demand you leave Mags' house.
Or he might even involve the Peacekeepers if he felt I was a "risk" to others. You bitterly thought.
You clear your throat, "No, I haven't told anyone outside of you. I was trying to keep it to myself because even I realize how crazy it sounds," You let out a shaky laugh at that, "But Mags, please don't tell Finnick or anyone else. I don't think it would do any good and it would just make Finnick hate me more, and--"
Mags quickly cuts you off by grasping one of your hands that you'd been waving around while talking. You cease talking, simply staring at your contrasting hands. Soft skin, wrinkles of time spanning across both sets (hers more so defined), a clear sign of comfort during your spiraling thoughts.
God, I still can't believe that I'm here, able to touch and talk to some of my favorites. It's still baffling to me, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Keeping her hand in yours, she uses her other to write once more.
What made you think Finnick hates you?
A disbelieving laugh escapes you. You shoot her an incredulous look, "Mags, how can I not think that? The first week I was here, he was constantly asking you how long I was staying or if I really had to stay at your house. He's also always staring at me and giving me these weird looks. And-" You cut yourself off before you can finish that last sentence.
And he calls me gorgeous. Sadly, there's no way that you believe that Finnick Odair - Capitol golden boy, charming and looking like a Greek God - would think that you of all people is "gorgeous". You've been taught differently all your life.
Guys like him don't end up with girls like you.
Girls with an endless amount of stretch marks littering your body.
Girls who struggling to go shopping because the world doesn't consider your body size when creating things, especially clothing.
Girls who have difficulty looking in the mirror most days because you find something new to dislike about yourself each time.
Girls who've been told that "if a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you". Even though, as you got older, the taunts and name-calling became more difficult to brush off as a childish crush and the comments about your body became more targeted.
Girls who've had to brace themselves for the punchline being about their weight, even around people they thought were their friends.
Girls who have a hard time believing someone when they compliment them, never truly trusting their words.
You shake yourself out of your stupor, not noticing Mags' coy smile.
You had no idea of the conversations that took place long after you'd retire to bed most nights, conversations regarding a certain bronze-haired Victor's realizing he's becoming enamored with the newest addition to District Four (you). Mags convinced him the first night you arrived that you weren't a threat seeing as, in the last 50+ years, her gut has rarely led her astray when it comes to things like this. Since that night, whenever Finnick is over for dinner (which is most nights), he ends up staying later to see if there's anything new he can learn about you from Mags.
That day when he came to get you for dinner, however, became the main topic of conversation for them that night as Finnick had no idea what he did to give you the wrong impression regarding his thoughts toward you. He was baffled when you accused him of inspecting your body in a negative manner and conveyed as much to Mags when they talked.
"I mean, she didn't even let me get a single sentence out before she pushed her way past me! And not that it matters now, but I thought she looked rather stunning in her new clothes. I take it you took her to Deena's shop?"
"God, she doesn't even realize what she does to me..."
Mags thought it was cute how Finnick was trying to convey it to you through the nickname he bestowed on you right away - gorgeous. Little does she know how conflicted you feel every time he refers to you by that term.
Mags' silence was throwing you for a loop. You thought she of all people would understand seeing as she witnessed most of your interactions with Finnick from the first time you two met. Hell, she even said that first night that Finnick has trouble trusting people, so why can't she see his dislike for you?
She seems to realize that she's been zoning out and gives you an apologetic smile. Grabbing her pen, she quickly scrawls down something.
Dear, if I know anything from the handful of years that I've known that boy, he does not hate you.
You glance up and find her waiting, one eyebrow raised as if to challenge you to disagree with her again. You decide to table this... for now.
"Alright, so moving past all that, are you- I mean, do you believe- fuck, why is this so hard to say?" You whisper the last part to yourself, but Mags still hears you. She seems to understand what you were trying to say.
I believe you. Like you said, crazier things happen in Panem all the time.
You can't help it - you let out a small laugh at that. Still, you have one more question for her.
"So... where do we go from here?"
Mags gives you her usual grin.
Well, since you don't work tomorrow, I figured I could finally take you fishing and show you how we do it here in Four.
The smile that breaks out on your face at Mags' words is grateful and you feel some of the anxiety you've held in you over the past month slowly leave your body as the two of you clean up for the night.
Since that night, you've found yourself falling back into the easy-going rhythm you've developed since you arrived.
As promised, Mags took you out fishing the following day and it was... eventful, to say the least. You weren't the greatest fisherman, by any means, but Mags didn't seem to mind and got a kick out of you attempting to reel in a catch. Well, if you could even call it that, it was more like a minnow at best.
Standing in water up to your ankles with the breeze wafting through your hair, you find yourself feeling more at peace than you have in a while. Glancing over at Mags, you can see she has her eyes shut, inhaling a deep breath and letting it ease out of her.
Huh, guess her and Finnick have that both in common, feeling comforted by the water.
Speaking of, it was now nearing the end of the week and Finnick was set to arrive back in Four tomorrow morning. According to Mags, he ended up not being needed for as long as usual, and Snow decided to send him back early. This came as a surprise to both you and Mags, but neither of you chose to comment on it.
You don't know why, but you're looking forward to him coming back. Even though you just expressed to Mags earlier this week that you feel Finnick doesn't like you, you've always liked him.
Curse you, Suzanne, for creating such a lovely character. Well, I guess I can't say that since he's real in this reality. You ponder as you walk back to Victor's Village from the market. You went to pick up some fresh produce and some other necessities that were running low at Mags' house. Seeing as Finnick was coming back tomorrow, you also wanted to find something that you could maybe make him as a way to say "Welcome back!"
You had asked Mags if he had any favorite foods and she gave you a knowing look before shifting through her recipe drawer. You settled on making him a fruit tart since there was some fresh fruit at the market that caught your eye and you figured he deserved a nice treat, even though it can't make up for the awful things he had to endure this past week.
You hummed to yourself as you made the trek back, your thoughts once again drifting to Finnick. You know it's pointless to think about, but your mind likes to taunt you and you begin to picture what it would be like if you did get it all wrong and Finnick didn't actually hate you.
It's hard to wrap your head around, considering your experience with previous people in the past, but Finnick hasn't outwardly done anything to you like that. He hasn't called you any demeaning names or made comments about your weight. He hasn't cornered you or grabbed at the larger parts of your body.
Maybe... he is different from them.
You quickly shake your head, not wanting to get your hopes up. One step at a time, Name. You gotta focus on the task at hand - Operation Tart.
Soon enough, you're back at Mags' house and ready to bake. You want to make the tart tonight, so that it has time to chill and the filling has time to solidify before you put on the fruit tomorrow morning. The scent of fresh fruit and sugar fill the kitchen, and you continue to hum the song from earlier as you get lost in the realm of baking.
Mags walks in a little later, lighting up at the sight of you in the kitchen. She nods a bit at the dough in your hands and you shoot her a grin, "I settled on making a fruit tart. I figured out of all the recipes we sifted through it would be the easiest for me not to mess up." She huffs a laugh at that and grabs the cutting board and a knife, moving the fruit towards her.
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the only sounds being your humming, the whisk in your bowl of filling, and the distinct chopping sound from Mags' knife as she cuts up the fruit. You had gotten a good selection -- strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, kiwi, and some watermelon. You figured the watermelon would make a good snack over the next few days.
Before long, you both finish your tasks and the crust for the tart is baking in the oven, the filling set in the fridge to chill while you wait. You wipe down the countertops and set the dishes aside to wash in a bit, and you turn to Mags with a small smile.
"So, what do you want for dinner tonight? My treat."
A sliver of sunlight cuts through the small opening in your bedroom curtains, shining over your face. You scrunch up your nose, not quite ready to wake up.
Then you remember what day it is.
Finnick comes back today.
You sit up with a purpose in your movements, excitement slowly building up as you start going through the motions of your morning routine. Mags had talked with you briefly last night before the two of you parted ways for bed.
I just want to give you a heads up for tomorrow. Finnick might seem a bit out of sorts... just treat him like you normally would. Granted, I hope you start warming up to him a bit more after our last talk, but he hates being treated like glass when he returns. So, just don't draw attention to the fact that you know, okay?
You gave her a small nod then bid her goodnight.
Of course you wouldn't want to draw attention to that. You doubt that Finnick would ever want to talk about that to you, and you wouldn't want to make him feel uncomfortable or safe in the privacy of Mags' home, a place that's a sanctuary for him. Asides from that, you just hope that you don't make it obvious that you talked to Mags about everything else regarding him.
Finishing up, you head down the hall and round the corner to find Mags already at the table. She gives you her typical greeting then continues opening what looks like mail and sorting it into piles.
Interesting... I didn't even think of how the mail service would work in Panem, especially considering how "Big Brother"-y Snow is about everything.
You make your way over to the fridge, pulling out your tart ingredients to finish up your surprise. Then you grab things for breakfast - eggs, cheese, toast, and the extra fruit. You also grab the jar of huckleberry jam that you bartered for at the market yesterday. You start working on making some cheesy scrambled eggs and get some toast started.
Laying everything out on the table, you slide the finished tart back in the fridge to save for later. You sit down in your usual spot and motion to Mags to plate up, and the two of you start to eat. Chewing a piece of your toast, you swallow before asking, "Whatcha looking at there, Mags?"
She sets her fork down on her plate and grabs her notepad.
Some mail from the Capitol. Invites to a few upcoming events, mainly for mentors to make an appearance before the next batch of Games. They just finished up the Victory Tour before you arrived last month, so we still got some time before everything starts up again.
You nod and leave it at that. You couldn't imagine having to be at the beck and call of the Capitol, let alone President Snow, and having to constantly be thrown back into the throes of it even after winning.
The two of you idly chat while you finish eating and soon lose yourselves in your conversation about the upcoming events in the District. Apparently Four hosts a small festival at the end of each fishing season as a way to celebrate the season itself and to honor anyone lost out at sea.
You arrived near the start of February and with the upcoming fishing season starting in a few weeks, that means the next festival is going to be held soon as a way to welcome in the new season. You're a little excited for the festival because you haven't experienced one in what feels like ages. The last festival you remember going to was for some celebration happening in your hometown, various tents and food trucks set up as live music played in the background.
Your conversation is cut off by the sound of the door creaking open. Mags mouths Finnick at you and you nod, getting up to grab the tart from the fridge. There's some shuffling from near the entryway and shortly after, Finnick appears around the corner.
He looks the same yet... different. Off, like Mags had mentioned. Outwardly, he appeared the same - same tan skin, striking green eyes, slight smirk on his face. However, if you didn't know to look for the signs, you wouldn't notice how his mouth was held tighter around the corners or how he seemed to tense when someone made the slightest movement near him. He also was wearing more conservative clothes than you're used to seeing him in: a long sleeve cotton tee and full length cargo pants. The more skin covered, the better it seems, you note.
Regardless of it all, Finnick seems to let out a breath as he enters the kitchen. One of those full body sighs, releasing all the tension and stress that's been held for some time. He snags his usual chair and gives Mags a small smile when she locks eyes with him, seeming to brush off whatever concern she expressed in that brief moment.
Glancing away as to not get caught staring, you start cutting into the tart, slicing it up to bring over to the table. Finnick chooses this moment to talk.
"So what have you two been up to since I've been gone? Anything interesting happen to you, gorgeous?" Your face slightly heats up at the nickname, but you brush it off. You look up and find Finnick's eyes locked onto your form, which defeats your attempt at not seeming flustered.
You clear your throat. "Um, I started picking up some more hours at Deena's shop. Oh! And she got in some new stuff to make some jewelry, so that's something new we're going to be working on." Finnick seems to lose even more of the tension as he listens to you speak, a more genuine smile appearing on his face. Mags motions to outside and you smile a bit, "Mags also showed me how to fish."
At this, Finnick gasps and gives Mags a dramatic look. "I thought we agreed that I would get to show her!" Mags chuckles at this, shaking a finger at him. She jots something onto her writing pad and shows it to Finnick. You briefly see it once you set the now cut-up tart on the table.
Finnick crosses his arms and looks at you once again, "Well, gorgeous, we'll have to go out sometime so I can make sure that Mags taught you properly." She rolls her eyes at his words, but gives you a wink.
You hand out a small plate to both of them before dishing up a slice for each. Finnick glances down, not having realized you were bringing over some food. He looks to Mags then back to you, seeming to falter for a moment.
You shrug a bit, cheeks warming up once again. Jesus, get it together! He's back for all of five minutes and you're acting so obvious - don't make it weird!
"Um, well, Mags and I were talking and I figured it might be nice to come back to a little treat. She mentioned that you have a bit of a sweet tooth, and the market had some good fruit this week. I just... I wanted to do something nice for you."
Finnick seemed to be at a loss for words, unsure of how to proceed. Before he left, he was certain that you couldn't stand him (based on that last interaction you had in your bedroom) and now you were baking treats for him? He shook himself out of it and looked down at the fruit tart, mouth watering at the sight. He glanced up once again before digging in, his words holding a genuine sincerity to them that you hadn't heard from him before.
"Thank you, sweetheart. Truly."
Your cheeks were flaming at this point and you muttered a quiet, "You're welcome" before stuffing a bite into your mouth to prevent you from embarrassing yourself.
You chewed your bite slowly, savoring the tart and sweet combination on your tongue. And as the three of you ate your dessert and caught Finnick up on everything he missed, you found yourself reflecting on this new development.
A/N part two: I meant to post this last week as a birthday treat for y’all (27 is wild already), but I had some stuff come up and it just got too hectic. So here we are! I’m hoping to dive into the feels a bit more next chapter, obviously needing another time jump, and hopefully we can start digging into the relationship PLUS I want to touch on where we’re at in the timeline (and if it’ll stay the same or not… 😏). As always, let me know what you think :)
